By the time Oguri Cap finished her 400-meter run, Shuta An called out to her from the edge of the track. "You can head back to the guest room. If I'm not mistaken, Berno should be waiting to have dinner with you before heading to the hot spring together."
"What about Trainer?" Oguri Cap asked innocently—so innocently, in fact, that both Tojo Hana and Silence Suzuka, who were watching from outside the field, felt secondhand embarrassment for her. "Trainer isn't going to the hot spring?"
"I'll stay out here for a bit, enjoy the evening breeze," Shuta An replied with a wave of his hand. "You two go ahead and soak. Don't stay in too long."
"Okay." Realizing how her question might have sounded, Oguri Cap quickly nodded and hurried off, fleeing the training ground of the hot spring inn as though running from her own awkwardness.
When Oguri Cap disappeared into the lobby, Shuta An turned toward the corner of the fence where Tojo Hana and Silence Suzuka were hiding. A faint smile curved on his lips. Tojo Hana was hidden well enough, but Silence Suzuka's green earmuffs betrayed her entirely.
Shuta An, assuming she was merely curious about the training, didn't mind. He simply followed Oguri Cap's departing path—but instead of returning to the inn, he took a detour for a short night stroll through Biratori Town, hoping to sample some local specialties.
Although a rural area, Biratori and nearby Monbetsu were quite lively at night thanks to their proximity to Monbetsu Racecourse. The streets hummed with a relaxed energy, neon lights reflecting on the damp pavement.
"The end of August will be the test," Shuta An thought as he walked. "That'll show whether this summer's effort has paid off—or been wasted. If we lose, I'll have to rethink everything."
He needed Oguri to build enough credentials to qualify for Central turf stakes by the end of the year. That goal weighed constantly on his mind.
Eventually, he found a small restaurant and ordered seafood fried rice. While waiting for his meal, he noticed three Uma Musume seated nearby—all familiar faces from Tojo Hana's Rigil team at Central Tracen Academy. He recognized them immediately but had never spoken to them, nor did he intend to.
Turning his back toward them, he focused on his meal—until he overheard a familiar name.
"It'd be great if Dober-chan could've come to Hokkaido with us," said a bright, chestnut-haired Uma Musume.
"That accent…" Shuta An murmured under his breath. "American—like mine."
"But Dober-chan's not in our Rigil team," another Uma Musume, a sleek dark bay, replied. "How would she come on our summer camp? I didn't even invite my own fan club members."
"Exactly! And she's from the Mejiro family—she'll be at her family villa. Taiki Shuttle, stop dreaming!" said the third Uma Musume with a teasing snort.
"But don't you think that Trainer staying in the same inn as us seems perfect to help Dober-chan?" Taiki Shuttle persisted. "Even our Trainer looked really pleased after talking with him. Fuji-san, you know how Trainer Tojo usually acts, right?"
Fuji Kiseki hesitated. "…That's true. Trainer was in an unusually good mood during afternoon practice. Maybe it was because of that conversation with the local Trainer."
"Heaven knows what they talked about," Taiki Shuttle pouted. "Fuji Kiseki, do you know?"
"I don't." Fuji Kiseki twirled a strand of hair, thoughtful. "But if he could get our Trainer to speak kindly, maybe he could even help Dober-chan overcome her… issue."
"Too bad we'll never know," Taiki Shuttle sighed. "If Dober-chan's androphobia isn't cured before debut, it'll seriously affect her Twinkle and Dream Trophy careers."
"That's the Mejiro family's problem," the third Uma Musume—Amazon—shrugged. "You're her roommate, but she's not on our team."
"Amazon…" Taiki Shuttle whined softly.
Shuta An quietly took in their entire conversation.
"Androphobia, huh…" He narrowed his eyes. "Seems Uma Musume everywhere deal with the same things."
At West Coast Tracen Academy, he'd heard of cases like that—Uma Musume who grew anxious, uncommunicative, or even aggressive around men. Those students were assigned female Trainers and housed together in restricted dorms marked with warnings to keep male Trainers away.
"I wonder what type Mejiro Dober is," he mused. "Probably just shy and reserved."
He chuckled to himself. "If I weren't managing my budget so tightly, I'd offer my help—maybe earn some treatment fees to fund Oguri Cap's training."
When his fried rice arrived, Shuta An ate quickly, paid his bill, and passed the trio unnoticed on his way out. They never realized the 'local Trainer' Taiki Shuttle talked had been sitting right behind them.
Back at the inn, Shuta An opened his guest room door—and froze.
A startled scream echoed.
He reflexively slammed the door shut.
But the image had already burned into his mind: Oguri Cap and Berno Light, fresh from the bath, towels clinging precariously to their bodies. Water droplets traced along pale skin, sliding over collarbones before disappearing beneath the folds of fabric.
"Ahem." Shuta An cleared his throat and forced his thoughts away, reopening the door as if nothing had happened.
The two Uma Musume had already retreated into their rooms, leaving only damp footprints across the floor.
—The next morning—
When Silence Suzuka casually asked what had happened in their guest room last night, Shuta An grew evasive.
He hadn't discussed how to explain the scream with the others, so he simply said, "There was a small accident. It's resolved now."
"I see," Silence Suzuka said quietly, not pressing further. She led their morning jog as usual, her calm demeanor matching her name.
Shuta An followed behind, benefiting from her steady pace and slipstream—but his mind wandered back to the previous night.
"Even with separate rooms, I should've expected something like that," he muttered under his breath. "At least I shut the door fast enough."
His approach was simple: treat the incident as though it never happened. He hadn't done anything improper—merely stumbled into an awkward moment. His conscience was clear.
Up ahead, Silence Suzuka mused silently, "Before the scream, I heard a door open." She could easily guess what had happened, but held no resentment. Given Kasamatsu's modest circumstances, she respected how much personal sacrifice Shuta An made to support his Uma Musume's dream.
Compared to Trainers obsessed with investments and publicity, he seemed grounded. Still, in her heart, Tojo Hana—who had personally scouted her—remained number one.
"I really look forward to Shuta Trainer entering Central," she whispered softly to herself.
After their jog, the two returned to the inn at separate times. When Shuta An entered the lobby, Oguri Cap was already eating breakfast with unrestrained enthusiasm, drawing curious glances from Central's Uma Musume.
"Probably because of her eating habits," he thought quietly, heading back to his room to change before joining her.
When he finally sat down, Oguri avoided his gaze, cheeks faintly pink. Berno beside her wasn't much better, still flustered from the night before.
Keeping to his plan of calm detachment, Shuta An buttered a slice of toast. "Today's schedule remains the same. Morning swim, afternoon rest, then warm-ups and a 400-meter lap at 7:55 p.m."
"In other words, exactly like yesterday."
"I understand," Oguri Cap replied evenly. Her tone was steady, though her eyes flickered with unease.
"If I hadn't seen that look," Shuta An thought, "I might've believed she wasn't affected at all."
Even so, he decided to observe quietly. "If this incident creates a mental block, it could hurt training progress. I'll monitor them for a month and adjust if necessary."
Yet, another concern occupied him that morning—his upcoming home visit to Oguri Cap's family.
A Trainer couldn't arrive empty-handed, but what gift would be suitable for a middle-aged woman?
"Should I ask Sachiko-san?" he mused, only to dismiss the idea immediately. "No—that'll definitely be misunderstood."
He sighed, finishing his coffee. "I'll just look around the town later. Maybe inspiration will strike."
Sapporo, as the administrative center and largest city in the Hokkaido region, offered countless shopping areas bustling with activity. After more than an hour's ride on the JR train from Biratori Town, Shuta An arrived in the metropolis, his purpose clear: to find an appropriate souvenir.
Although Sapporo boasted numerous commercial centers, most were concentrated in two main districts—one of them clustered around Sapporo Station. That was his destination. As he stepped off the train and into the crowd, he murmured to himself, "Preferably something small. If it's too big, I won't even know where to send it." After all, Oguri had yet to tell him her home address.
During the ride, he had finally decided: cosmetics. It was a safe, elegant choice—something suitable for a middle-aged woman, neither too personal nor too distant. That line of reasoning led him to the Daimaru Sapporo Store, the most reputable department store near the station.
Within minutes, Shuta An reached the towering complex. Daimaru's seven floors each offered a different category of goods; the first floor glittered with cosmetics and jewelry. He stepped inside and began to browse, quietly aware of how much he stood out. Most shoppers came in pairs or were young women alone, and on this floor—drenched in pastel hues and the soft glow of vanity mirrors—a solitary man in a trench coat could hardly blend in.
"I should buy what I need and leave quickly," he told himself. Soon his eyes landed on a Tiffany Gold Rose hand cream. It was refined, practical, and understatedly elegant. He asked the clerk to package it in a gift box and, once it was neatly wrapped, slipped it into his bag. Just as he turned to leave, however, the corner of his trench coat was caught by a small, ivory-pale hand.
Shuta An frowned, instinctively tugging free before turning to see who had stopped him. Before him stood a young Gray Filly holding the hand of another, even younger Gray Filly. The smaller child's expression was panicked, her large eyes glistening with unease.
Realizing this, Shuta An's tone softened. "Sorry," he said, assuming the situation, "I don't have any spare change either." He pulled a 1,000-yen note—Hideyo Noguchi's familiar portrait—from his wallet, intending to hand it over.
To his surprise, the older Filly gently pushed his hand back. "I'm not begging," she said calmly. "I just have a favor to ask."
Her accent struck him immediately—light, melodic, and distinctly familiar. "She's from America, just like me," he thought.
Out loud, he asked, "What do you need?"
The Gray Filly inclined her head and guided the smaller child forward. "My name is Kurofune. This little one got separated from her mother, and I've been helping her look. But I need to return to the station soon to meet my own family. When I heard your accent, I thought you might be able to help."
Shuta An's expression sharpened. "Aren't you worried I might kidnap her? Wouldn't the police be safer?"
Kurofune smiled wryly. "I don't have the best impression of the police back home… and, well, Japan's not always that different."
"That's fair," he admitted. Even Japanese media often criticized local law enforcement for inefficiency.
A saleswoman who had overheard them interjected helpfully, "You could ask the broadcast station to make an announcement."
"Ah." Shuta An exhaled, mildly embarrassed. He had been away from big cities long enough to forget the obvious. Soon, with the store staff's assistance, an announcement was made, and within minutes, the small Gray Filly was reunited with her mother.
"Hehe, thank you, big brother and big sister!" chirped the child, her voice clear and sweet as birdsong.
"It's good that you found your family," Shuta An replied evenly. With a polite nod to the mother and daughter, he added, "Madam, young lady—goodbye." And with that, he left without further ado, slipping the brief encounter into the depths of forgetfulness.
As he disappeared into the crowd, the small Filly pouted. "Kirin didn't even ask for big brother's name."
Kurofune narrowed her eyes, watching his retreating figure. "He sounded American," she murmured. "Maybe he's traveling too."
Kirin's mother gently patted her daughter's head. "If it's fate, you'll meet again someday."
"Mm! Kirin understands!" the child said brightly.
By the time Shuta An returned to Biratori Town, the memory had already faded to a faint afterimage. The hot spring inn was lively as always, with Sachiko-san directing staff to prepare the dining room for the evening rush.
"Shuta-kun, did you go to Sapporo?" she asked, catching sight of the shopping bag in his hand.
"Yes," he said lightly. "Picked up a few things."
Sachiko-san smiled but didn't pry further. Later, as Oguri Cap and Berno Light returned from the pool and changed into their casual clothes, they joined Shuta An at the table, where he was quietly enjoying a plate of fried fish.
Once both Uma Musume were seated, he set down his chopsticks and said, "Tomorrow's daytime training will be suspended."
"Eh?" Both girls looked equally puzzled.
"Didn't I say back in Kasamatsu that we'd visit Oguri's family?"
Oguri Cap blinked. "Oh—right, you did."
"So tomorrow, Oguri, I'll trouble you to lead the way," Shuta An continued, his tone light. "I'm looking forward to meeting your mother."
"Mm," Oguri Cap murmured, nodding. Her voice carried a shy undertone that didn't escape him.
He found it natural. Oguri Cap's family lived modestly, and this was surely her first time bringing both a friend and her Trainer home. A little embarrassment was to be expected.
"I wonder what kind of person her mother will be," he mused silently. "If I recall, she's a single parent—perhaps strict?"
Unconsciously, Shuta An projected fragments of his own past onto the unseen figure of Oguri Cap's mother.