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Chapter 230 - Uma Musume Pretty Derby: Ten Meters [230]

Maybe she didn't really care about Yasui Makoto's quick change of wording. Or maybe her attention was still mostly on the track.

Either way, after glaring at him with mild resentment for a while, Kitasan Black pursed her lips and looked down.

She shifted her feet—and only then noticed her toes.

Th-this… that wasn't fat, was it?

Ugh, whatever. It's all Trainer's fault. I'll deal with him after training!

She turned her attention back to the track.

Yasui, meanwhile, kept up his act of "serious observation" for a moment. When he didn't sense any movement beside him, he stole a glance—saw Kitasan Black watching the track with full focus—and quietly let out a breath of relief. Then he returned to analyzing and explaining in earnest.

They'd only just started applying the notes, but from what he'd seen already, Super Creek's judgment had been right.

Preparing for opponents together with Kitasan Black was, in fact, better than him doing everything alone.

Kitasan Black had always been quick to grasp things. Most training methods and pre-race instructions—say it once, and she understood.

Even if she wasn't at the "hear one, infer three" level yet, that was fine. Getting to that point required race experience, and that was exactly what she still lacked.

With that kind of intuition, she could actually read a lot by observing opponents.

Sounds of Earth's plan, for instance—and the differences between that opponent and herself.

Sounds of Earth's cornering wasn't at Super Creek's top-tier level, but it was still G1-class—and near the top even among that group.

The corner-acceleration drill clearly wasn't new to her, which meant she'd likely used it before, and could use it again in the Arima Kinen.

Based on her race performances, her best running style was Late Surger, with Pace Chaser as her second.

If she used the same acceleration approach in the Arima Kinen, then you couldn't wait until the straight to figure out how to answer it—couldn't even wait until the corner. You'd need preparatory positioning before the bend, setting things up in advance.

Especially since her Pace Chaser style wasn't "less used" because she was weak at it—it just meant she didn't rely on it as often.

If she chose Pace Chaser on race day, then Kitasan Black's response would have to start even earlier.

With the notes proving effective, Yasui didn't stop after that single day. Over the next several days, he kept bringing Kitasan Black to watch the Arima Kinen opponents' training—and every night, they did thorough reviews.

Kitasan Black took it seriously. This was a kind of race prep she'd never experienced before.

Before, Yasui would arrange everything and give instructions, and she would train and run exactly as told.

It was comfortable. Easy. She didn't have to think too much. She understood his plans and instructions well enough—she just needed to execute.

And in the middle of that, she'd sometimes thought: if only she were a little more capable, if only she could help Yasui too.

Her days were already packed—classes, training, races.

But Yasui had only been a trainer for a little over a year. Even if Grandpa said he'd help, the training side still depended on Yasui himself—so he had to be busy all the time.

And sometimes, even when she rested, he was still working.

Like the days after the Kikuka Sho—she'd asked him out more than once, and each time he'd said he had interviews, social obligations, things that sounded exhausting.

So now, being able to prepare for the Arima Kinen together—feeling like she was finally helping—filled her with a new, unfamiliar kind of excitement.

How to put it…

It felt like fighting side by side.

Yeah. Side by side with her Trainer—winning the Arima Kinen together!

With that thought burning in her chest, she found herself looking forward to the year-end G1 more than ever.

...

That day, in Central Tracen Academy's cafeteria—chewing on a carrot stick, Duramente studied the girl across from her for a moment.

Across the table, Kitasan Black was chewing one too, but her eyes were fixed on a small notebook in her hands. Under her breath, she muttered as she read.

"Lovely Day-senpai… watched her twice, then… Rouge Buck-san… and next… Lia Fail-san…"

"Are those… Arima Kinen opponents?" Duramente asked, suddenly curious.

"The next one is… Gold Ship-senpai… huh?"

Kitasan Black jolted and looked up, ears twitching as she scanned around in confusion.

"Just now… who said something?"

Seeing her like that, Duramente let out a quick laugh without meaning to—and laughter rose from the side as well.

Sitting at the same table, Real Steel stirred the carrot sticks in the sauce in front of her and smiled.

"Duramente asked you. She was asking if what you were mumbling just now were Arima Kinen opponents."

Then she sighed, a little envious.

"The Arima Kinen… Kitasan gets to run it. Must be nice."

"Huh? Um, that—" Kitasan Black froze again.

Before she could finish, a loud complaint—equal parts envy and frustration—burst out from beside them.

"Tell me about it!"

Jun Tsubasa—who'd run the Kikuka Sho alongside Kitasan Black and Real Steel—glared at Kitasan Black with lingering resentment. Propping her cheek on her hand, she pouted.

"Seriously… how did I even get hurt running that race last year…"

"Damn it. If I hadn't gotten injured, with two straight wins earlier and then placing in the Kikuka Sho, I'd definitely have made the Arima Kinen field, right?"

Kitasan Black's mouth twitched. She scratched her head awkwardly, sneaking a glance at Duramente and Real Steel.

She knew that entering the Arima Kinen depended on fan voting—but after following public opinion for a while, she'd realized she often couldn't make sense of how those votes were decided at all.

If it was based on results, then in her mind, both Duramente and Real Steel seemed far more likely to make the Arima Kinen than Jun Tsubasa.

After all, whether you looked at number of races, the grade level, or overall results, those two were clearly ahead.

And yet, oddly enough—Duramente's inflammation had mostly settled, but she was still in recovery and couldn't run the Arima Kinen anyway, so voting wasn't really an issue there. That much made sense.

But Real Steel had been excellent both before the Classic Triple Crown and throughout it—yet she still hadn't pulled a top-ranked vote count.

Kitasan Black had checked before. This classmate—also a friend and rival—only ranked around twentieth in popularity across platforms.

Even though the final results weren't out yet, with popularity like that, it would be hard to make the Arima Kinen.

As always, when she couldn't make sense of it, she'd gone to Yasui.

"Maybe it's because… people are emotional. Impulsive."

After thinking it over for a while, Yasui had given her that answer.

"Trainers can vote too, and plenty of pros do as well—but most votes come from passionate fans."

"Results, training, preparation… what they really want to see is whether the race is exciting, whether it delivers."

"So sometimes they vote on impulse."

"Like Real Steel—I think the reason her popularity's dipped is that a lot of the fans who supported her saw she didn't win the Classic Triple Crown… and their love turned into resentment."

"Something like that. I don't know if that makes sense to you."

Kitasan Black wasn't sure she understood.

She only felt that Real Steel was clearly strong, yet still might not get to run the Arima Kinen—and that was such a waste.

And after what Jun Tsubasa had just said… she didn't know if it might have hurt Real Steel's feelings—or even Duramente's.

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T/N: UGUHASIUhASIFHSA god i keep thinking real steel is cheval grand but SHES NOTTTTT and i keep double guessing myselfffff

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