On April 24th, the French URA Association released the second-to-last registration list for this year's French 2000 Guineas.
"So many Uma Musume have signed up" Oguri Cap and Berno Light followed behind Shuta An, glancing at the long list of names.
"That's irrelevant," Shuta An replied calmly. "In the next half month, you'll see many of these names disappear."
"Disappear?" Oguri Cap blinked in confusion.
"Yes," he confirmed. "They'll withdraw after consideration. This is very normal in Europe."
"I don't understand," Oguri Cap pouted. "If they've already signed up, what's the point of backing out?"
"Because unlike Japan, Europe has more race options," he explained. "If they skip this one, there are always others. Also, race slots are limited. Some Uma Musume dislike the risk of a crushing defeat hurting their mindset, so they sign up early to secure a place, then observe the field. If they feel their chances are low, withdrawing costs them nothing."
"I think you should still try no matter what," Oguri Cap said earnestly. "If you avoid opponents just because they're strong, you can do it once or twice—but not for life."
"You're not wrong." Shuta An gently stroked her silver hair. "But Europe's dense Twinkle Series schedule actually allows Uma Musume to keep avoiding battles if they want."
"That's hard to understand…" Berno Light squeezed her eyes shut, unable to picture her close friend constantly running away from competition.
"Then what do you think, Trainer?" Oguri Cap passed the question back to him.
"For me— I understand the reasoning, but I wouldn't do it," he said after a moment of thought.
The truth was that the West Coast Tracen Academy also disapproved of excessive avoidance. Classic-tier Uma Musume might avoid prep races to secure their standing, but eventually, everything funnels toward the Kentucky Derby, Preakness Stakes, and Belmont Stakes for the Classic Triple Crown—or the Oaks, CCA Oaks, and Alabama Stakes for the Triple Tiara. There is no alternative path. Even for high-status, high-prize races outside the Classic routes, strong horses of the same generation inevitably gather. In America, you can avoid a few battles, but not endlessly.
In Japan, opportunities to evade are even fewer. Prep races are limited; for a distance-specialist Uma Musume, sometimes only a single major race fits the schedule for months. There's simply nowhere to hide.
Compared to Europe, Shuta An was far more familiar with the systems of Japan and the West Coast.
That afternoon, while sharing her knowledge of Mile races, Miss Miesque heard the same question from Oguri Cap.
"What do you think, Miss Miesque?" she asked curiously. She wanted to know the stance of the seven-crowned legend before her.
"As for me," Miss Miesque replied with a light smile, "I've never had the experience of avoiding anyone. It was always others who asked about my schedule so they could avoid me."
Oguri Cap was stunned—and secretly envious.
"I want to become a Uma Musume like Miss Miesque" She strengthened her resolve, determined to push herself harder.
"Alright," Miss Miesque said, "I've already taught Oguri all my insights regarding Mile races. I know what matters most for you and Mr. Shuta is the Jockey Club Stakes after the 2000 Guineas, but with Oguri's talent, she'll naturally grasp things across different distances as her experience grows."
Oguri Cap nodded deeply. Over the past month, this senior—despite being from another country—had taught her everything without reservation.
"Thank you very much." Oguri Cap rose from the bench and bowed respectfully. Miss Miesque accepted the gesture without hesitation. She felt she had earned it.
While Oguri Cap was speaking with her mentor, Shuta An remained at the desk in his room, browsing recent weather data on his computer.
"Berno said she wants to compare the French horseshoes with the ones we brought. If the difference is significant, she'll buy a few pairs for Oguri," he muttered, half-distracted as he scrolled through the files.
Suddenly, a familiar sensation passed through him. He opened the attribute viewer—
"Oguri Cap has mastered Miss Miesque's Mile insights! Mile adaptability: A → A+!"
"Eh?" His eyes widened. "It improves like this?"
Symboli Rudolf's face flashed in his mind. "Should I ask Miss Rudolf to talk to Oguri and Teio about middle-distance races?"
But he quickly shook his head. "It might not work."
Not because Symboli Rudolf would refuse, but because her middle-distance adaptability wasn't as exceptional as Miss Miesque's dominance over the Mile. Even if she helped, the effect might be limited.
"Never mind. Focus on what's in front of us," he murmured, massaging his temple. "With A+ in the Mile, our chances in the 2000 Guineas just shot up."
Originally, his long-term plan had Oguri Cap focusing on 2000–2400 meter races after France—perhaps running Arima Kinen once for experience.
"But now it'd be a waste not to run a Mile," he frowned. "I might need to adjust her schedule for the first half of next year"
While Shuta An contemplated Oguri's future, in the editor-in-chief's office at Paris Turf, Boussac was focused on the present.
"The paparazzi gathered plenty of photos. Enough for a special issue." He exhaled. "It's a pity they didn't catch any intimate shots of Miss Miesque and Shuta An. That would've sold like wildfire."
"Still, this is enough." Boussac narrowed his eyes. "Why would Miss Miesque help an overseas Uma Musume instead of returning to the Academy?"
During the drafting process, the editors of Paris Turf deliberately avoided steering the article toward Paris Central Tracen Academy—after all, they still relied on the Academy for future access and couldn't afford to burn that bridge.
Instead, in the final version, they subtly shaped the narrative to nudge readers into drawing their own conclusions about Shuta An.
Shuta An had no idea. Miss Miesque had no idea. Their interactions were perfectly ordinary, and neither ever imagined their actions might be twisted. Thus, when Paris Turf hit the stands the next morning, the two of them were completely blindsided.
"Good grief— even without saying it outright, anyone who reads this will assume Miss Miesque and I are a couple." After scanning the article once, Shuta An immediately caught the malicious framing.
But he didn't rush to speak with Miss Miesque yet. Instead, he went first to the room next door to find Oguri Cap and Berno Light. The French 2000 Guineas was less than half a month away—he couldn't let anything shake Oguri's condition.
Oguri Cap, as expected, was composed. "Those media reports are false, Trainer. Don't worry, they won't affect me."
"If any reporter tries to bother Oguri, I'll step in and chase them off," Berno Light added quickly. "Trainer, leave it to me!"
"Of course, I trust you both." Seeing the two Uma Musume so steady, Shuta An finally relaxed. "I'll go discuss countermeasures with Miss Miesque."
"Go on, Trainer." Oguri Cap rose and gently pushed him toward the door. "Berno and I understand."
"Understand what?" he muttered under his breath as he stepped out.
Miss Miesque, on the other hand, was feeling something completely different. When Shuta An invited her to the café for a talk, she was still in her room chatting with her close friends on the phone.
"Although getting dragged into a dating rumor is annoying," she complained lightly, "the way Mr. Shuta rushed to clarify it with me. Am I really that lacking in charm?"
Her best friend laughed on the other end. "Maybe he already has someone in his heart, so he's eager to prove his innocence?"
"Ah—" Miss Miesque paused, then rolled her eyes with a helpless smile. "Indian Skimmer, what you said is possible—no, it's probably exactly right."
"Hmph hmph, that reaction totally gives it away! I can read this sort of thing instantly!" Indian Skimmer sounded smug enough that her tail might as well have been wagging.
When Miss Miesque arrived at the café, Shuta An had already ordered her a cappuccino. She looked over the table—and noticed he was holding an Americano instead of his usual Flat White.
"Changed your taste?" she teased lightly. "Or does your mood decide what you drink?"
"Exactly." Shuta An admitted without hesitation. "Given my mood now, only an Iced Americano can heal me."
"Unfounded rumors can create trouble for both of us," Miss Miesque began calmly as she sat down. "But I don't mind much. These things don't bother me. After the Prix d'Ispahan, I'll return to the United States to spend my vacation with my Trainer. Once the buzz peaks, the Academy will naturally suppress it for my sake. I have seven G1 titles after all—they won't let the public develop unnecessary speculations about my private life."
Only after she finished speaking did Shuta An respond.
"As the strongest active Uma Musume of Paris Central Tracen Academy, you should be protected."
"But I'm different." He shrugged. "First, I'm not a Trainer belonging to Japan Central Tracen Academy. Second, to the French side, I'm merely the child of an old friend."
Then he set down his cup, looked directly at her, and said clearly, "And most importantly, I don't like my private life being arranged by others."
"Everyone has a different tolerance for that. I understand." Miss Miesque nodded without surprise. "So, Mr. Shuta, what is your plan?"
"Direct confrontation is impossible. Those media excel at twisting the truth, and their circulation isn't small." He took a brief sip. "So I plan to ask the French URA Association to intervene. At least get them to redirect the media's focus. Oguri's preparations must not be disturbed."
"Once the French Derby is over, we'll leave France. At that point, even if they claim I'm the illegitimate child of the Louis family, it won't matter anymore." He wrinkled his nose at the thought. "I thought British media were bad enough, but I didn't expect the French media to be just as bad."
"Ahaha~" Miss Miesque let out an awkward laugh. As a French Uma Musume, despite frequently challenging in Britain, still harbored a mild instinctive rivalry—much like normal people. Hearing Shuta An compare the French Stress unfavorably to the British one put her in an awkward position. She couldn't deny it not when Paris Turf had just published a sensationalized article pairing the two of them together.
Realizing this, Miss Miesque patted her chest lightly. "Although I can let time smooth things out for me, since Mr. Shuta has said so, I'll also express my dissatisfaction to President Sagace and ask the Academy to communicate with them."
"Then I'll rely on you for that." With that reassurance, the weight on Shuta An's shoulders finally lifted. "If both sides cooperate, we should be able to shut down this nonsense. Otherwise, it's bad for both of us."
"I always feel like Mr. Shuta dislikes me," Miss Miesque muttered with a soft pout, half-joking.
"Well… I'm sorry for giving Miss Miesque such a misunderstanding," Shuta An said, scratching his head, eyes dropping to his cup. "But I already like someone. I don't want her to misunderstand."
He hesitated slightly at the end. Miss Miesque simply assumed he was choosing his words and didn't think too deeply about it.