[ So this fic get 40 collection and 9k views. It is not much, but okay for 15 short chapters to have it. Therefore, I am going to continue this fic. But don't hope too much for daily release guys, most of the times I will update it in bulk for a week around 7-10 chapters (maybe)]
[Anyway, if you guys spot any inconsistencies remind me about it]
Post-Winning
Shuta An's Alto could carry four passengers, so after the races ended, he and Mr. Kitahara decided to take their respective Uma Musume to Nagoya's city center for dinner. To make things easier, Shuta An left his car in the Kasamatsu Racecourse parking lot.
"Parking is free for Academy Trainers anyway," he remarked casually.
"If it weren't," Mr. Kitahara quipped, "An-san would probably have driven the car straight back to the Academy the moment he found out."
Shuta An shook his head firmly. "No."
"Oh?" Mr. Kitahara raised an eyebrow. "I thought An-san couldn't bear to pay the parking fee."
"If Academy Trainers had to pay to park here, I wouldn't have brought the car at all," Shuta An replied with a shrug. "I don't have much in savings, so I save wherever I can."
Mr. Kitahara didn't press further. From what he knew, his friend had only graduated a little over a year ago—he probably didn't have more than a few million yen to his name.
"I still need to take the Uma Musume under my charge on expeditions later," Mr. Kitahara murmured, "so saving money now is essential."
Then, as if remembering something, he slapped his forehead. "An-san! You should've received today's prize money, right?"
"Isn't the prize money always transferred right after the last race of the day?" Shuta An raised an eyebrow. "Oguri Cap and the other one both have their own bank accounts, so it should've already gone through."
"Which means," Mr. Kitahara mused, "An-san earned 320,000 yen today. Do that nine more times and you'll match Japan's average annual income."
"How could that happen nine more times?" Shuta An smirked. "It's easy to rack up wins in Kasamatsu, sure—but it gets boring fast."
"Besides," Mr. Kitahara added knowingly, "your goals aren't in Kasamatsu anyway. You've told me that more than once."
Meanwhile, a few meters behind them, the Uma Musume walked in pairs.
"What about you?" Oguri Cap suddenly asked Fujimasa March, who was walking alone with her head lowered.
Berno Light, trailing behind them, perked her ears. Though she had more win distance than the gray filly ahead, she knew that if both of them ever raced head-to-head, she wouldn't stand a chance.
"My dream?" Fujimasa March echoed softly. She pointed to herself, thought for a moment, then answered, "Before… it was probably to stand on the stage of the Tokai Derby."
"Before?" Berno Light caught the word immediately.
"That's right." Fujimasa March turned, smiled briefly at Berno Light, then looked back to Oguri Cap. "But now, my dream has changed."
"What changed?" Oguri Cap asked, her curiosity piqued.
Up ahead, Shuta An heard their conversation and chuckled quietly. "Oguri Cap really is slow with things like this," he muttered. But that clumsiness suited his taste. "Uma Musume who are too sensitive get easily distracted. Oguri Cap being like this actually makes my job easier."
Behind him, Fujimasa March declared her new goal. "I want to face you again, Oguri Cap—and this time, I'll win."
"Is that so?" Oguri Cap's expression remained calm. "Then I'll be waiting."
She didn't doubt Fujimasa March's strength, but with her Trainer's guidance, Oguri Cap believed she'd outpace her rival before long. There would be no rematch victory for March.
Hearing the quiet confidence in Oguri Cap's tone, Fujimasa March bit her lip and fell silent. "Words mean nothing," she murmured under her breath. "Only actions matter."
The group arrived at the restaurant called Lian, a long-established favorite near Nagoya Station. Since they had booked in advance, a waiter guided them to their six-person private room on the 4th floor. Their set meals had already been pre-ordered. Once the waiter confirmed there were no dietary restrictions and left, Shuta An spoke up.
"Mr. Kitahara, there's something I'd like to ask of you."
"What is it?" Mr. Kitahara asked, surprised. To him, Shuta An was the one who usually knew more; it was rare for him to ask for help.
"I'd like Miss Fujimasa March to teach Oguri Cap how to sing and dance," Shuta An said with a sigh, glancing at Oguri Cap, who was busily taking in the room's decor. "I really don't want to see her perform that Kasamatsu Ondo again."
Oguri Cap turned around, protesting, "I think it sounds fine! I'm sure Mom would love it too."
"But your audience isn't just your mom," Shuta An replied dryly. "Meeting the audience's expectations is also an Uma Musume's duty."
"I'm not the right person to teach her," Fujimasa March interjected. "I'm not that skilled myself. If I tried to teach Oguri Cap, it might just waste time."
"Then who is suitable?" Shuta An frowned. "This needs to be handled soon."
"I know someone who'd fit," Berno Light said, raising her hand slightly. "But I'm not sure she'd be willing."
"Oh?" Everyone turned toward her.
"Who?" Shuta An asked.
"Norn Ace," Berno Light replied. "But she seems… a little hostile toward Oguri Cap. I don't think she'd agree to teach."
"I can help persuade her," Fujimasa March offered quickly. "She's actually a fan of mine."
Shuta An didn't respond immediately. Instead, he focused on Berno Light's earlier words. "Hostile? What do you mean? Has she pulled any pranks on Oguri Cap?"
Before Berno Light could answer, Oguri Cap spoke up herself.
"No, nothing like that. After school started, she just said she had a lot of luggage and couldn't finish unpacking her dorm, so she asked me to live somewhere else. I didn't mind—it was quite comfortable where I stayed."
Shuta An, however, wasn't so easily convinced.
"You're not still living off-campus, are you?" he asked sharply.
"I moved back after the simulation race," Oguri Cap said with a tinge of regret. "Honestly, I kind of liked the place I was staying before."
Even though Oguri Cap had answered so earnestly, Shuta An still planned to visit the Academy the next day to have a word with Norn Ace's Trainer.
"As a Trainer," he thought grimly, "If one of my Uma Musume pulled something like that, I'd at least owe an explanation."
He didn't voice it aloud, however. Instead, he simply said, "Never mind. I'll think of another solution. I won't trouble Miss Fujimasa March any further."
Fujimasa March immediately understood what he was implying and could only nod in silence. 'When I get back to the Academy tonight, I should make sure them apologize properly to Oguri Cap,' she resolved quietly.
Seeing the atmosphere grow heavy, Mr. Kitahara quickly tried to lighten the mood.
"This is actually my first time at this restaurant—or rather, my first time having Western food somewhere like this," he said with a chuckle. "An-san, you must know about these things, right?"
"I'm ashamed to say I don't," Shuta An admitted, scratching his head. "After resigning from West Coast, I spent some time in my father's hometown, but I never really got familiar with all this. I still feel like I've let the old man down."
"Come now, An-san, don't be so hard on yourself," Mr. Kitahara said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "You've managed to build a life in a foreign country—your father would be proud."
"I hope so," Shuta An muttered, pouting slightly. "Though even if he isn't, there's nothing he can do about it now."
Mr. Kitahara didn't quite catch that last part and let it slide. But Oguri Cap, sitting nearby, twitched her ears ever so slightly. Although it wasn't exactly a celebration, Shuta An and Mr. Kitahara shared a few drinks. Oguri Cap and the others had wanted to try the restaurant's famous pear-apricot cocktail, but both Trainers firmly refused.
"You can't drink alcohol yet—it'll mess with your performance," Shuta An said sternly, swirling his glass. "Only those of us who don't have to race anymore get to drink."
"And the Academy specifically forbids active Uma Musume from drinking, whether they're in local circuits or the Twinkle Series," Mr. Kitahara added. "Even the Emperor of Central didn't dare promote sake until after she retired."
"Hmm." Oguri Cap relented obediently, setting down her chopsticks.
Despite claiming they'd only have a few drinks, it didn't take long for Shuta An—who had a weak tolerance—to become noticeably tipsy. And then, with lowered inhibitions, he revealed a side of himself few had ever seen.
Leaning back in his seat, he said to Mr. Kitahara, "You were curious about my family background before, weren't you?"
"I was—and so is everyone else at the Academy," Mr. Kitahara admitted with a wry smile. "After all, Ann-san, you were a top student who studied in America. There's no logical reason for you to end up here in Kasamatsu. Even if America didn't work out, you could've easily gone to Europe, right?"
At that, the three Uma Musume at the table perked up, listening intently.
"If I wanted to go, I could," Shuta An said, waving his hand loosely. "But becoming a Trainer there would be another story entirely. No matter the country, they wouldn't grant me a license."
"Why not?" Mr. Kitahara frowned. "Did you offend someone important in the States? Your abilities are more than enough."
"Europe's racing system isn't controlled by the Americans," Shuta An replied, taking another sip of baijiu. "Their reason was simple—they weren't confident in my bloodline."
He laughed bitterly, the sound rough around the edges. "Today, Oguri Cap ran the 800-meter dirt race in the 49-second range. The commentators and spectators in Kasamatsu were shocked out of their minds."
His tone turned sarcastic. "That kind of record? I could do that too."
"Eh?!" Oguri Cap's eyes widened. The statement was absurd—no ordinary human could possibly run as fast as an Uma Musume.
Even Mr. Kitahara blinked in disbelief. "Ann-san… are you drunk?"
"I— I'm not drunk!" Shuta An protested, shaking his head vigorously. "I'm telling the truth. If I'd been born as an Uma Musume, Kitahara, you'd probably only ever see me on TV."
He raised his index finger toward the ceiling. "For instance, if the Emperor of Central had an Uma Musume daughter, everyone in Japan would be watching her, right?"
"Ann-san means…" Mr. Kitahara trailed off, chills creeping up his spine as the pieces fell into place.
"If I were an Uma Musume," Shuta An said slowly, "that's probably the kind of situation it would be."
"Then the URA Association in Europe would have more reason to accept you as a Trainer, not less," Berno Light murmured. "A Triple Tiara Uma Musume's child becoming a Trainer—Europe should be honored by that."
"How could that be?" Despite his drunkenness, Shuta An's ears caught the comment instantly. He grinned and said proudly, "My maternal grandmother is Sea Bird."
"Eh!?" Mr. Kitahara was instantly sobered. "The Sea Bird—the strongest Uma Musume of the century, with a Timeform rating of 145?!"
"Exactly." Shuta An smiled bitterly. "That very same strongest-of-the-century—seven wins in eight Twinkle Series races, victor of both the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe and the Epsom Derby. She's my grandmother… though we never met."
"No wonder Ann-san never went to Europe…" Mr. Kitahara exhaled, shaking his head. "If I were you, I wouldn't either."
"Why do you say that?" Fujimasa March asked curiously. Oguri Cap and Berno Light looked just as puzzled, their ears twitching slightly.
"Senior Sea Bird has already passed away," Mr. Kitahara explained gently. "And her death was… reportedly connected to the URA Association in France."
He sighed and placed a reassuring hand on Shuta An's shoulder. "So you moved from Europe to America, right? Couldn't stay there either, and ended up here in Japan… either here or Australia, I suppose."
Then he turned toward Oguri Cap and Berno Light. "To be honest, you two are incredibly lucky."
At that, he couldn't help but feel a pang of pity. "A Triple Tiara Uma Musume's child becoming a Trainer… that already narrows it down. Your mother must be Allez France—the third Triple Tiara Uma Musume in French history, and like her mother, winner of the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe."
He bit his lip, his expression a mixture of admiration and regret. "It's a shame, really. If Ann-san were an Uma Musume, we might've witnessed three generations conquering the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe."
"Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe…" The name alone carried a distant weight. For the three young Uma Musume at the table, that legendary race felt far removed from their current world.