In the evening, Shuta An bathed and went to bed early.
Since he had instructed Oguri Cap and Berno Light to rest ahead of schedule, he naturally felt obligated to set an example. The moment he pulled the blanket over himself, he slipped into sleep with hardly any resistance.
As always, the Dream World awaited him. On the same night Oguri Cap triumphed in the French 2000 Guineas, he and the Dream World's Oguri Cap had taken the G3 Major Prize Kyoto 4-Year-Old Special together.
With three consecutive Major Prize victories in Central, Shuta An felt he had finally earned Trainer Setoguchi Tsutomu's trust. Therefore, during the awards ceremony the night before, he made a suggestion:
"Oguri Cap is ready for G1 competition. Even if Classic-season Uma Musume were barred from the Yasuda Kinen two years ago, the Takarazuka Kinen is still open."
But Setoguchi Tsutomu's lack of enthusiasm had immediately dimmed Shuta An's heart.
"Oguri should be given the chance," he reflected now. "She can run 2200 meters, and she still gets a full 5 kg allowance."
Other Classic-season horses skipped the Takarazuka Kinen for understandable reasons—any horse with the aptitude would aim for the Derby, and the gap between the races was too harsh. But the Dream World's Oguri Cap, just like the real one, had never been granted the luck of participating in the Classic series.
Today, however, Shuta An wasn't at Ritto Training Center. He was in Kasamatsu, assisting Trainer Sagami Masayuki with morning work. He was the top jockey in the region—race offers came nonstop—but he no longer accepted everything. Most of the mounts he took now belonged to influential owners. He won for them, then recommended they send promising young stock to Sagami Masayuki's stable.
Sagami Masayuki had been completely unaware until one owner unintentionally revealed the truth.
"Shuta-kun doesn't need to recommend me," the soon-to-retire trainer had told him. "Whether I win the Tokai Derby or not depends on fate. There's no need to force anything."
"Fate can be changed," Shuta An replied without hesitation. "As long as we work hard enough, we can help you win it."
"I've already made peace with it," the trainer said with a weary smile.
Shuta An could tell he didn't mean it. And who wouldn't wish to become a "Derby Trainer"?
"Even though Oguri won the French 2000 Guineas, I still secretly hope for the French Derby" Shuta An thought.
But even if she managed to take a second crown, he had no intention of aiming for the third one.
"Three thousand one hundred meters—longer than the Kikuka Sho—on Longchamp turf." Unnecessary no matter how one looked at it.
After finishing morning training, Shuta An rushed to Kasamatsu Racecourse for his afternoon bookings, skipping lunch entirely.
Just as he reached the entrance, Setoguchi Tsutomu appeared.
"Trainer Setoguchi? What brings you here? You could have waited until tomorrow at Ritto."
"I discussed your proposal with the owner," Setoguchi said without preamble. "But we've decided to remain cautious."
He continued, "Oguri Cap has raced heavily in the local circuit. The step up in Central is harsher. So we'll aim for the G2 New Zealand 4-Year-Old Championship next month."
"I understand." Shuta An showed no surprise. "Thank you for letting me know."
He bowed deeply.
"I wanted her to challenge strong older horses like Tamamo Cross in the Takarazuka Kinen," the trainer admitted, bowing slightly in return. "But she should grow a bit more this summer. Naturally, you will still be her main rider—that won't change."
"Hm." Shuta An steadied himself. "I'll make sure she keeps winning."
"Not 'make sure'—'definitely.'" Setoguchi patted his shoulder. "Top Central jockeys have already approached us asking to ride Oguri Cap."
Hearing that, Shuta An clenched his fists behind his back.
"So train harder than ever. Don't give them the chance," Setoguchi said with a strained smile. "I want you and Oguri Cap to remain partners for life."
"I'll give it everything I have."
Despite the unease boiling inside him, Shuta An won all four races that afternoon with flawless finesse.
"Strongest in the region! Strongest in the region!"
He waved and smiled at the cheering fans, but his heart was elsewhere—already drifting toward Oguri Cap, peacefully grazing back at the ranch.
"I hope she recovers well"
When he awoke, he reached for his phone on the bedside table.
"Six o'clock."
He got up, fixed his rumpled pajamas, and went to wash his face. Today he would take Oguri Cap and Berno Light to Montmartre.
The historic hilltop in the 18th arrondissement—130 meters above Paris, home to centuries of art and laughter. Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet— all had lived there at one time. But Shuta An wasn't here to tour their residences.
His destinations were Sacré-Cœur—and one other place. He had already resolved that this would be where he spoke to both of them.
"Le mur des je t'aime," he murmured fluently.
The Wall of I Love You's.
Before eight o'clock, Shuta An led the two Uma Musume out of the hotel by car. By the time they arrived and stepped into Montmartre, it was almost nine.
They hadn't done anything yet, and the morning only had a little over two hours left. Feeling a tinge of impatience, the Young Trainer brought Oguri Cap and Berno Light straight to Sacré-Cœur.
Despite its name, the church wasn't built to thank Christ but "as atonement for the crimes committed by members of the Paris Commune."
For Shuta An, the origin didn't matter. He chose Montmartre today because Sacré-Cœur's dome was open for climbing, and from it—on a clear day—Paris spread out in a full panorama. It was the most cost-effective stop on a one-day Paris tour.
Since it was a weekday, Montmartre wasn't crowded. The moment the three stepped inside Sacré-Cœur, the atmosphere was so quiet that their steps naturally softened.
"Construction began over a century ago, but it wasn't finished until about sixty years later," Shuta An explained as the one most familiar with Paris. "The design responds to the Paris Opera House—but since neither of you are into opera, we can skip that."
He pointed up at the ceiling. Oguri Cap and Berno Light followed his gesture. On the dome was a mosaic of the Holy Child Jesus—majestic, solemn, and overwhelming even to those unfamiliar with Christianity.
"Wow~" the two Uma Musume breathed at the same time.
"So beautiful~" Oguri Cap rubbed her eyes, almost doubting what she saw.
Berno Light clasped her hands together as if in prayer—though Shuta An couldn't hear what she murmured. After taking in the murals and decorations, the three non-believers climbed to the top of the dome.
"Woah!!!" Another gasp from both. "It's so beautiful"
Even without the sunset colors, the morning view was enough to overwhelm. From the dome of Sacré-Cœur, no matter where one looked, some recognizable landmark of Paris appeared—like opening a blind box.
The city lived up to its nickname, "The City of Romance." Oguri Cap and Berno Light couldn't stop looking.
"It's really beautiful" Berno Light whispered.
Oguri Cap nodded. "Completely different from Hokkaido. The atmosphere here is much stronger."
"When the Prix du Jockey Club comes," Shuta An added, "Paris will take on the colors of Chantilly Racecourse winner."
"If I win, does that mean—" Oguri Cap blinked, but Shuta An cut in—
"Yes. Oguri will become the hero of this year's French Twinkle Series."
Even if she came from overseas, even if no analyst believed in her before the 2000 Guineas, even if some still doubted her 2400-meter adaptability—if she completed the nearly 30-year-absent French Two Crowns, Paris would shine in her colors.
He had no doubts.
After leaving Sacré-Cœur, Shuta An took them through Place du Tertre, Au Lapin Agile, and Le Bateau-Lavoir.
They ate a simple lunch at a Japanese restaurant, strolled around the district, and soon it was past three in the afternoon. Though it looked like he was aimlessly wandering with them, Shuta An kept quietly observing Oguri Cap and Berno Light.
"They seem prepared now," he murmured, then cleared his throat.
"One last place. Then we'll head back to the hotel."
"Eh—?" Both Uma Musume responded with clear disappointment.
Feeling a little guilty, Shuta An simply walked, saying only, "I'm sure you'll like it."
After several minutes, the three arrived at a small, unremarkable park—Square Jehan Rictus. It looked deserted, indistinguishable from the tiny parks hidden in Japanese neighborhoods.
"Trainer brought us here" the two Uma Musume muttered faintly.
But as they circled past a cluster of trees, the wall came into sight—an indigo-blue tiled wall, cluttered with writing, messy from a distance as if vandalized.
Yet up close, looking over Shuta An's shoulder, they spotted a word they recognized—"Daisuki (Like)."
"This is" Oguri Cap asked softly. Berno Light's eyes flicked toward a guitarist sitting nearby. His presence made her uneasy, though she couldn't explain why.
"This is the Wall of Love," Shuta An replied. "Created by Frédéric Baron after he collected expressions of love in over three hundred languages."
"Over three hundred" Oguri Cap covered her mouth in amazement. She hadn't eaten three hundred kinds of food, yet here were three hundred ways to convey a single feeling.
"And as you can see," Shuta An turned around, his eyes first meeting Oguri Cap's, then moving to Berno Light's—pausing—"all these sentences mean the same thing."
"I love you," he said softly to Oguri Cap.
Berno Light lowered her gaze—but Shuta An shifted to her as well.
"I love you."
"Oh—!" The nearby street artist cried out, even though he didn't understand Japanese. Their expressions said enough.