The next morning, Oguri Cap and Berno Light met at the Academy gate. Like the gray-haired Uma Musume, the chestnut-haired logistics girl had also gone home the night before.
Thanks to Oguri Cap's growing success, Berno Light now enjoyed a much lighter workload. Spotting her friend, she waved cheerfully. "Oguri! Good morning~!"
"Good morning, Berno." Oguri Cap returned the greeting, but her voice was soft, her movements slow. She covered her mouth as she stifled a yawn.
"What's wrong? Didn't sleep well?" Berno asked, tilting her head. Oguri Cap wasn't one to complain about her bed, so her fatigue stood out.
"Yeah… not really." Oguri admitted without hesitation but didn't elaborate further.
Berno didn't pry; she had a pretty good guess about the cause. "It's probably related to Trainer," she muttered, puffing her cheeks. "You really should talk to him."
Oguri Cap didn't respond, but she understood what Berno meant—and that her friend wasn't just saying it for her sake.
Meanwhile, unaware of their exchange, Shuta Trainer arrived at Kasamatsu Tracen Academy much later than usual. Dropping his bag on his desk, he walked straight to the Director's office.
The Director, already standing, greeted him with a knowing smile. "Good morning, Shuta-kun."
"Good morning, Director~." Shuta responded with his usual polite ease. Now that Oguri Cap held a Central G2 title, he had the confidence to speak on equal footing with Academy executives, yet he still respected the Kasamatsu Director who had supported him early on.
"Is something the matter today?" The Director poured him a glass of ice water and passed it across the table.
"Yes." Shuta accepted the glass, then nodded. "I came to apply for a leave of absence."
"Another expedition?" the Director blurted out before chuckling. "Well, I do recall you saying you wanted to challenge the top of your generation."
"But Japan's Classic Race circuit doesn't permit local Uma Musumes," Shuta explained, swirling the ice in his glass. "So, I'll have to take a different route."
"Oh?" The Director leaned forward, curious. "And what might that be?"
"I plan to have Oguri Cap challenge the first two legs of the French Classic Race series," Shuta said plainly. "The third leg, though, is a 3110-meter marathon with a four-month gap after the French Derby—too costly and disruptive. Competing there would mean missing Japan's autumn GI season, so we'll stop after the second leg."
"I see." The Director picked up his pen. "So, how long will you be away? I can approve it now."
"No need to rush." Shuta placed his cup down and waved a hand. "We're departing on the 14th, so we still have almost a week."
"Then come back on the 13th to collect your leave slip," the Director said with a warm smile.
Shuta rose, bowing slightly. "Thank you, Director."
The Director watched him go, unable to suppress a small, wistful grin. He didn't truly believe one of his Academy's Uma Musumes could conquer a Classic overseas—but dreams were worth having. "I wish you and Oguri Cap a victorious return."
"Thank you for your kind words." Shuta's smile widened as he left the office.
In the days that followed, Oguri Cap resumed light training. Shuta adjusted her regimen, adding strength drills to bolster her endurance.
"Trainer isn't planning to turn Oguri into a muscle girl, is he?" Berno joked, half-serious.
"How could that be?" Shuta shot her a glare before smirking. "Even if she did, I'd still like her." Both girls froze. Oguri's face flushed pink, while Berno blinked rapidly.
"Ahem." Shuta cleared his throat. "Oguri, keep running. Berno, if you're that free, go buy something."
"Buy what?" Berno asked—then winced as Shuta flicked her forehead.
"Two French phrasebooks," he ordered. "You'll both need them soon."
He didn't expect them to master French overnight, of course. But being able to look up phrases and handle simple conversations could make all the difference abroad.
"I can't be with you two every step of the way in France. You'll need to manage basic communication yourselves," he said firmly. The young trainer had already planned everything in his mind.
On the afternoon of the 13th, he returned to the Director's office to collect the leave slips for himself and the two Uma Musumes. When he got back, a familiar figure appeared at the doorway.
"Something up?" Shuta asked, recognizing his friend immediately.
"I signed up for the Central Trainer exam." Mr. Kitahara met his gaze squarely. "The first test's at the end of May."
Shuta wasn't surprised—Kitahara had been preparing for almost a year. Taking the exam now was the logical next step. After all, the Central Trainer qualification wasn't a one-shot deal; each attempt built valuable experience.
"I wish you the best," Shuta said sincerely, extending his hand. "With how much you've prepared, you'll do fine."
"Thanks for the encouragement." Kitahara clasped his hand firmly. "Once I pass and get into Central with Fujimasa March, I'll make sure Oguri can use Central's training facilities whenever you need."
"I appreciate it." Shuta patted his shoulder lightly. "But focus on passing first."
The Central Trainer exam had multiple stages, and with Kitahara's talent, even clearing the first one wouldn't be easy—but that was exactly why Shuta respected him so much.
On March 14th—White Day.
While couples exchanged gifts across Japan, Shuta Trainer was leading Oguri Cap and Berno Light through the bustling halls of Osaka Kansai Airport.
"The flight departs at 12:30 PM," he explained as they approached the international terminal. "We'll be in the air for fourteen hours and fifty-five minutes, arriving at Charles de Gaulle Airport at 7:25 PM local time. After that, we'll take a taxi straight to the hotel."
Oguri Cap did a quick mental calculation. "So, we'll land around 3 a.m. tomorrow, Japan time?"
"That's right. But don't force yourselves to stay awake on the plane." Shuta glanced back at the two Uma Musume. "This is your first time going abroad, isn't it?"
Oguri didn't need to answer—her family had never had the means for international travel. Berno Light, whose family was a little better off, still shook her head. "This is my first time too."
"I thought you might've gone overseas with your family." Shuta looked mildly surprised, but quickly brushed it off. "Well, I suppose neither of you have ever experienced jet lag, then?"
"Jet… what?" Oguri tilted her head in confusion.
"I know!" Berno Light proudly raised her hand.
Shuta ignored her. There was little difference between "knowing" and "not knowing" for someone who hadn't experienced it firsthand. He took the time to describe what it felt like—your body refusing to accept the new time zone, your stomach growling at the wrong hours, the dull headache that lingered for days.
"I'll have to go on a diet…" Oguri muttered unhappily.
"That can't be helped." Shuta Ann shrugged. "You'll only need to endure it for four days. Once your body adjusts, we'll rest three more days, then begin training next week."
"Alright." Oguri nodded firmly. "I'll try to adapt quickly."
Berno Light scratched her cheek. "Should I just give up then?"
"That's not happening." Shuta Trainer's smile turned sharp. "You can't expect to be napping in the hotel while Oguri and I are training, can you?"
"Ugh…" Berno groaned. As the team's logistics girl, she had no real excuse to slack off during an overseas expedition.
Meanwhile, in France, the URA Association had received the overseas registration from Japan several weeks earlier—but no one paid much attention to it. The entry was from East Asia, a region where no Uma Musume had ever competed in their circuit before. Most staff assumed it was just for show.
"Probably just for publicity," one clerk said with a chuckle. "'Registered for the French Classic Race!' You know, that kind of headline."
It wasn't until two days later—when a detailed list of accompanying items arrived from Japan, along with inquiries about procedural requirements—that they realized the entry wasn't just for show.
"Wait… they're actually coming?"
The staff began re-examining the registration file, and soon the office was filled with murmurs.
"Hmm… this Oguri Cap isn't affiliated with the Japan Central Tracen Academy. She's a local regional Uma Musume?"
"Basically, yeah—she's from the countryside circuit."
"You can't dismiss her like that," another said. "She just won a G2 prep race for their Japan 2000 Guineas. She's perfectly qualified for our French 2000 Guineas."
"But that's Japan," the skeptic replied. "Their Derby-level Uma Musumes raced in Europe for years and never won a thing. This one's only a G2 winner."
"Not necessarily." A woman at the corner desk, who had been quietly scrolling through documents, finally spoke. "I found something more interesting."
The others turned toward her. "Oh? What did you find?"
"This Uma Musume's Trainer graduated and interned on the U.S. West Coast," she began. "But after that, he disappeared for a while—and when he resurfaced, he was working at a small Tracen Academy in Japan."
"Maybe he broke some rules," someone joked. "If he's been exiled to the countryside, he's probably trouble."
"Not so fast." The woman raised a hand. "There's something else—you'll want to hear this."
The chatter stopped.
"This Trainer has a rather significant family connection," she said, pausing for effect. "Can anyone guess?"
"No, but you're clearly dying to tell us," someone teased.
"Fine." She smiled. "His mother is Alice."
Silence fell over the office. Then, almost in unison:
"Wait—that Alice?!"
"The Triple Tiara Uma Musume?"
"The very same." She nodded. "Now do you see the connection?"
Murmurs rippled through the staff.
"The Americans must've treated him poorly if he ended up in Japan," one of them said. "So now he's proving himself through this Oguri Cap."
"It's still going to be tough," another sighed. "Japanese Uma Musumes rarely perform well on our Classic circuit."
"Maybe. But let's not spread this around just yet," the woman advised. "If this Trainer's Uma Musume manages a top-five finish, we'll publicize it. It could even prompt Paris Tracen Academy to reach out to him."
"The child of a Triple Tiara Uma Musume training another potential legend how poetic." Some of the staff were already smiling at the thought.
Shuta An knew nothing of these conversations. While Oguri Cap and Berno Light slept soundly beside him on the plane, the young Trainer sat awake, studying the layout of Longchamp's 1600-meter course on his tablet.
"It's just a warm-up," he murmured, scrolling through the track map, "but that's no excuse to go in blind. Preparation is everything"
Outside the cabin window, the endless sea of clouds reflected faintly in his eyes—determined, focused, and quietly burning with ambition.