When Shuta An woke up, the first thing he did was reopen his attribute viewer. It clearly displayed a new notification: he had acquired a "teachable skill."
"As the name suggests, that means I can teach it to Oguri Cap, right?"
Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Shuta An narrowed his eyes and read the description carefully.
When executing a Senko (pace chaser) strategy, reduce stamina consumption and increase acceleration ability.
"A very useful skill," he muttered. "But… how exactly do I teach it to Oguri Cap?"
The panel offered no guidance, and Shuta An could make little sense of it.
"Never mind," he said with a small sigh, glancing at the clock on the bedroom wall. "Since I'm awake this early, might as well go for a morning run."
He quietly changed into sportswear and slipped out of the guest room. Biratori Town, a quiet rural area far from Sapporo, still lingered in the pre-dawn chill. The air carried the scent of dew, and even though it was summer, Shuta An shivered as goosebumps rose on his arms.
"A little exercise will fix that," he murmured, beginning a slow jog.
Having scouted the area during his evening walk yesterday, he knew the local roads well. To avoid disturbing the Uma Musume still asleep in the hot spring inn, he decided to jog from the inn to Mombetsu Racecourse, rest there briefly, and return in time for breakfast.
Jogging southwest, he admired the tranquil scenery of Biratori Town.
"It's rural like Kasamatsu," he thought, "but the view here is much better."
At a crossroads, he noticed a Uma Musume standing by the roadside, waiting for the light to turn green. He didn't recognize her, but the Central Tracen Academy tracksuit made it clear—she was under Tojo Hana's care, likely another Uma Musume staying at the same inn for summer training.
"Chestnut hair with green ear covers like carrots?" A rather impolite association crossed his mind. Clearing his throat, Shuta An refocused on the traffic light, deliberately avoiding any more glances at the "carrot" ahead of him.
As fate would have it, their routes overlapped. He even considered changing his destination to avoid misunderstanding—but the "carrot" seemed completely unconcerned, so he stayed his course. After all, he wanted to reach Mombetsu early to observe the track conditions.
Still, to avoid any awkwardness, he decided to speed up and overtake her, just to make his intentions clear. Within seconds, he drew level on her left side, eyes fixed straight ahead, increasing his pace to widen the gap. But the "carrot" let out a soft hum—and accelerated too, as if unwilling to be overtaken.
"What the hell? Do Central racehorse girls all have fighting spirits this strong?"
Annoyed yet amused, Shuta An broke into a run. Predictably, the "carrot" matched him stride for stride, her steps quickening. A phantom ache shot through his leg—the memory of his youthful folly at West Coast Tracen Academy, where he once raced a Uma Musume, lost spectacularly, and fractured his leg.
This time, he knew better. Shuta An immediately slowed to a walk along the roadside.
"Why aren't you running anymore?"
To his surprise, the "carrot" stopped too and turned around with a puzzled expression.
Her chestnut hair shimmered under the morning sun, tousled gently by the wind. She pressed both hands against her head to keep it neat—yet the sight made her look even more delicate. To a passerby, it might have seemed as though Shuta An had just bullied her. He couldn't deny it—he was briefly captivated. Just for a moment.
As a Trainer, he was used to beauty; all Uma Musume blessed by the three goddesses possessed striking features. Whether it was Oguri Cap or Berno Light, each could effortlessly turn heads in a crowd.
"But after spending enough time with them, the novelty fades," he thought wryly.
Out loud, he replied, "I'm just an ordinary person. I sped up earlier because I didn't want you to misunderstand."
The wind quieted. The chestnut-haired girl lowered her hands, smoothing her clothes before tilting her head.
"An ordinary person? You're a Kasamatsu Trainer—hardly ordinary."
"What's wrong with being a Trainer?" Shuta An shrugged. "Trainers are ordinary people too."
"Still, no ordinary Trainer would bring an Uma Musume to Hokkaido for summer camp this time of year," she countered. "Sachiko-nee-san told me everything."
The mention of the innkeeper's name jogged his memory—"And I also have a junior studying at Central Tracen Academy."
"Wait, you're Miss Sachiko's junior?"
She smiled softly and bowed. "Yes. My name is Silence Suzuka."
Stepping aside to avoid the bow, Shuta An gave a brief nod.
"I'm Shuta An, Trainer from Kasamatsu. Pleasure to meet you."
"Sachiko-nee-san praised Shuta-kun for quite some time," Silence Suzuka continued politely. "Thank you for staying at her inn."
"It just happened to suit my needs," he waved off casually. "No need to thank me."
"Then, shall we continue jogging?" Suzuka asked as she turned around. "But I'll stay in front, if you don't mind, Shuta-kun."
"Not at all," Shuta An chuckled. "For a Trainer, watching a Uma Musume's running form from behind is a rare pleasure."
From his angle, he didn't notice the faint blush spreading across Silence Suzuka's cheeks.
Following her lead, they soon reached Mombetsu Racecourse. Although no races were scheduled today, the grounds were far from deserted. Locals and tourists strolled about, enjoying the early opening of nearby recreational facilities. The track itself was off-limits for maintenance—but Shuta An, as a licensed Trainer, had permission to enter the stands for observation.
After presenting his credentials to staff, he was allowed through. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Suzuka's envious gaze.
"The Uma Musume behind me is from Central," he explained to the staff. "She's here for summer training. I'll vouch for her and make sure she behaves."
The staff, good-natured and accommodating, readily agreed. As they passed through the gate, Suzuka whispered shyly, "Thank you, Shuta-kun. I wouldn't have been able to come in otherwise."
"You're not planning to run on the track during maintenance, are you?" Shuta An asked warily. "I'd get scolded for that."
"No, of course not," she assured him quickly. "I'm not good at dirt tracks."
"Makes sense," Shuta An nodded. Japanese Uma Musume tended to prefer turf, after all.
That thought sparked an idea. Opening the attribute viewer, he checked Suzuka's stats.
Preferred distances: Mile and Middle-distance. Favorite running style: Front-runner,
'an escape uma musume huh? No wonder she reacted when I tried to overtake her'
He skimmed past the physique data without care—but paused at a line marked with "???" under skills.
"What's this?"
He focused on it, but nothing happened.
"Never mind. Probably a secret of hers—and she's not one of my trainees anyway."
Putting the matter aside, he turned his attention back to studying Mombetsu's layout.
As one of Hokkaido's local racecourses, Mombetsu boasted the largest track in Japan—1600 meters in Circumference for the outer circuit, 1300 for the inner. The Hokkaido Shimbun Hai (G3), Oguri Cap's target race in late August, would use the outer track.
The final straight spanned 330 meters—considerably longer than the short 140-meter stretch of Kasamatsu. Yet in Shuta An's eyes, Mombetsu still wasn't a track suited for late-charging Uma Musume. Right-handed layout, long opening straight, and gentle first bend—everything favored runners from outer gates who secured position early.
From his ten-year collection of meteorological and race data, he also knew: Average temperature in August: 18–26°C; Average rainy days: 8; Once it rained, the track dried very slowly due to the cooler climate.
All this meant Oguri Cap would likely face heavy dirt conditions.
"Good thing I bought rain-ready shoes and horseshoes earlier," he thought. "Otherwise, I'd have to scramble for replacements now."
Still, one finding frustrated him: among past Mombetsu 1800-meter races, front-runners had the highest win rates.
"But Oguri Cap can't be made to lead," he mused grimly. "Not in her first Hokkaido G3."
His gaze shifted to Silence Suzuka, who was curiously exploring the sidelines.
"If this were a turf track, it would suit her perfectly."
Almost as if in response, Suzuka sighed softly.
"I really don't like this kind of track."
"Hm?" Shuta An blinked. "Monbetsu favors front-runners, doesn't it? But Miss Suzuka dislikes it?"
She turned, smiling faintly. "You saw through me, huh? Yes… I'm an escape-type Uma Musume. But I'm not good with right-handed tracks."
Her tone remained gentle, yet thoughtful. "During testing at the Academy, my times were always slower on right-handed circuits. So my Trainer told me to focus on left-handed races."
Shuta An nodded, understanding. It meant that for Suzuka, future Grand Prix races like the Takarazuka Kinen or Arima Kinen—both right-handed—would pose a disadvantage.
"Still," he thought silently, "a weakness isn't the same as impossibility."
But he didn't voice it. The scars—both physical and professional—from his West Coast days had taught him restraint.
"Besides, Miss Tojo is strict enough. Better not meddle."
So instead, he smiled brightly.
"Miss Tojo must have her reasons. I believe you'll become a G1 Uma Musume under her guidance."
"Then I'll take Shuta-kun's words as a blessing," Suzuka replied softly, eyes lowered toward the tiles beneath her feet.
For a fleeting second, Shuta An thought he caught a trace of regret in her voice.