Chapter 132: New Candidates for the Practice Race
After Makoto's prompt, Kitasan Black lay on the air cushion for a while, staring blankly at the sky before sitting up with a start. She rubbed at her wrist guards and scrutinized Makoto from head to toe.
Makoto tensed up. "What's wrong? Are you hurt? Let me see—"
Before Kitasan Black could react, he moved closer, grabbed her wrist, and undid the Velcro on the guard.
In the morning light, the skin of the girl's wrist gleamed pearly from sweat. There were no scrapes or bruises; only a faint pink imprint from the Velcro, slowly fading with the circulation.
When Makoto pressed his fingertips against her skin, he could clearly feel the springy resilience through the tissue.
This was the elasticity of fascia honed by long training, like a drawn composite bowstring storing power. Tracing along the tendons and pale blue veins toward the wrist joint, the arcs where the ulna and radius crossed were smooth; the metacarpals and phalanges felt normal in bone texture and joint connection.
He moved his hand to the base of her palm.
That's the part people instinctively put out when they fall—if the angle between that area and the ground isn't aligned with the body's center of gravity, injury is possible. So if she had taken a bad fall, it would likely be this area.
But to his touch, the calluses from previous strength training were as they always had been—tough, almost like the rubber studs on spiked shoes. The muscles and bones showed no abnormalities; pressing firmly produced even a bit of hardness under the fingertips.
"No scrapes, no bruising, muscle tension and bone feel all normal…"
Holding Kitasan Black's wrist and palm, Makoto unconsciously looked toward the cushion and murmured, puzzled, "Could it be some other part? But that's impossible…"
"I-I'm fine, Trainer…"
Kitasan Black finally registered what was happening. She quickly withdrew her hand and automatically rubbed the spot Makoto had just inspected.
"I was just… surprised you'd joke like that…"
"Joke?" Makoto froze.
"How to put it…"
She tapped her chin and thought back aloud.
"If it were before, you'd either comfort me or explain how to train— I don't think you'd ever say 'you weren't ready yet' like that."
Makoto thought it over and realized she was right. He did tend to say light, situational jokes to ease the mood, but he'd never really teased this particular Umamusume before.
"Although I did tell Dia-chan that Trainer's been different lately—so that's kind of nice."
Kitasan Black continued, "I'm not saying the old way was bad, but sometimes it was a little too serious, and it could feel stressful. Now… "
She suddenly smiled.
"It's like what Crow-chan said: Trainer's not that old after all. He has things he likes, he can make jokes like just now—that's how someone his age should be."
"But since Trainer said it… fine!"
Her expression brightened, she pumped a fist with renewed energy.
"Weren't ready yet? Then I'll keep training till I am!"
"Shall I begin, Trainer?"
…
Over the next few days during breaks between special training sessions, Makoto found himself thinking about what he'd called a "change."
The more he considered it, the more he realized Kitasan Black was right.
At first—whether in training, races, or everyday interactions—his subconscious aim had simply been to apply knowledge and experience to guide this girl.
After spending several months together day and night, the relationship between instructor and trainee had quietly begun to change.
He had grown accustomed to the girl's obedience, her maturity, and her relentless effort—but over time, his attention had begun to drift beyond just her training performance. He now found himself caring about her daily life, her moods, and what she was thinking.
Recently, those changes have become the most noticeable.
Because of their shared enthusiasm for extreme stunts—and the conversations that branched out into topics like traveling and movies—Makoto had come to see Kitasan Black not merely as a student, but as a kindred spirit, someone of his own age and interests.
Their time together now felt more like training alongside a peer rather than supervising a subordinate.
Or, as Satono Crown had once teased him, he was finally acting like someone his age—showing natural emotions, being expressive, and not constantly carrying himself like an overly serious adult.
And this new dynamic between them was undoubtedly better than before.
He didn't know exactly how Kitasan Black saw things, but he could clearly sense that their rapport had deepened. He could now read her moods more easily—sometimes even guess what she was thinking before she said it.
That not only made their training more effective but also made their daily interactions far more comfortable.
Realizing that, Makoto couldn't help but feel a growing anticipation for the days ahead—and greater confidence in both their training and the upcoming races.
That evening, after wrapping up the day's session and reviewing its gains and losses, Makoto was just about to head to the cafeteria with Kitasan Black for dinner when his phone buzzed.
It was a message from Special Week.
As he opened it, Kitasan Black, who was helping tidy up the training equipment as usual, asked casually,
"Another meeting, Trainer?"
"No, not this time—it's from Special Week-san… hm?"
Scanning through the message, Makoto blinked in mild surprise and looked toward the academy cafeteria.
"Special Week-senpai…"
Kitasan Black immediately tensed up.
"Don't tell me something came up and she can't join the practice race anymore? That would be such a shame…"
The lineup for the weekend's practice race had already been decided, with the same number of assisting Umamusumes as last time.
Alongside the Triple Crown winners Gold Ship and Deep Impact, the other two were Vodka and Special Week.
Makoto had long considered Vodka's Japanese Derby victory as a one-of-a-kind reference point. He'd wanted to give Kitasan Black the chance to run alongside her over the 2400-meter distance.
As for Special Week, aside from her racing experience, her other advantage lay in her preparation for the upcoming "Summer Dream Trophy."
Since arriving in Tokyo, she'd been undergoing recovery and conditioning training for that event, drawing on her extensive self-training background—often with help from Daiwa Scarlet and Vodka.
Now that her close friend Silence Suzuka had joined her in Tokyo, her training level had improved even further.
However, the content of the message wasn't what Kitasan Black had expected. Instead, Special Week was making a different kind of request: another friend of hers wanted to help with the practice race.
"Why so pessimistic?"
Putting his phone away, Makoto chuckled and shook his head.
"Relax, it's good news. One of Special Week's friends recently arrived in Tokyo. She's also been invited to take part in the Summer Dream Trophy."
"She heard you're preparing for the Japanese Derby and said she'd be happy to lend a hand."
"Eh? Really?"
After a brief moment of surprise, Kitasan Black's eyes lit up.
"If she's also entering the Dream Trophy, then she must be an amazing senior!"
"I definitely have to thank Special Week-senpai properly—she must've gone out of her way to invite her for me."
"Oh, right, Trainer! Who is she? Did Special Week-senpai mention her name?"
"She did. She even sent over her past race records and full profile—like I was going to say no," Makoto replied with a wry grin, tapping the phone in his pocket.
"This one is… Grass Wonder."
"You know her, right, Kitasan?"
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