When Shuta An awoke, only a short time had passed. Oguri Cap had just completed her winning live, and he now found himself in the medical room of Chantilly Racecourse with Berno at his side.
"Trainer, we need to go to the awards ceremony soon." Berno Light, having pushed down her anxiety, put on a gentle smile and took his arm. "If we're any later, the reporters will sniff out a story and start chasing us again."
"If they ask, just say I fainted from excitement." Shuta An quickly synchronized their cover story with her before getting up from the bed.
"Mhm!" Berno Light nodded without the slightest doubt.
After rising, Shuta An glanced at the attribute viewer and quietly sighed. "That sudden explosion of power in Oguri's final push—even the attribute viewer can only label it with '??'"
Back in those last few dozen meters of the French Derby, he had assumed Oguri Cap would have to rely solely on her fighting spirit. But out of nowhere, a sensation both familiar and indescribable had radiated from the Gray Uma Musume.
"I've felt this before— but when exactly—?"
While these thoughts spun in his mind, Shuta An followed Berno Light out of the medical room, masking his questions beneath a victor's bright, confident smile.
"We need to head to the podium area now." He checked the time on his phone, then took Berno Light's hand. "Let's run."
Berno Light squeezed his hand in return and quietly jogged alongside him.
"One whole week— this will be hard to endure," the Chestnut-Haired Horse Girl sighed inwardly. "But this is exactly what Oguri deserves."
When they arrived at the podium area, the awards ceremony had not yet begun, and Oguri Cap was still changing in the locker room. Shuta An, however, didn't get a moment to rest—he immediately crossed paths with Edward de Rothschild, the president of the French URA Association.
"Mr. Shuta," President Edward greeted first, "a pleasure to meet you. Congratulations. You have trained a Uma Musume with infinite possibilities."
"President Edward, the pleasure is mine." Shuta An shook his hand and added, "Oguri is a genius. I only helped open a path beyond common sense."
"Truly so." Edward's smile eased into seriousness. "Mr. Shuta, are you interested in staying in Paris? Paris Central Tracen Academy would gladly welcome a Two Crowns Trainer."
"Well—" Shuta An shrugged and refused without hesitation. "I still have a Uma Musume waiting for me back home. I can only decline."
"I understand." Edward didn't push further. "Then, regarding Oguri Cap's next race—have you decided whether she'll continue challenging the French Triple Crown?"
"Let's not." Shuta An's mouth twitched. "Oguri can't run the 3100-meter Royal Oaks at Longchamp. As for her next race, I don't have a solid plan yet, but she will get a proper vacation. If anything, her next run should be in the autumn."
"Then what about the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe?" Edward pressed again.
Shuta An waved a hand. "The 2400 at Chantilly already forced Oguri to give everything for a narrow win. The 2400 at Longchamp will be even harder."
"I see…" Edward sighed. "Then, Mr. Shuta, you will return to France someday to challenge again, right?"
"Of course." Shuta An grinned. "I'm not retiring when Oguri does. I'll train new Uma Musume, and if one of them is suited for France, I'll definitely come back."
Satisfied with that promise, Edward nodded and asked, "During your stay, do you have any suggestions for improving the Twinkle Series system?"
"It's not quite a suggestion—" Shuta An still gave one. "But the Prix du Jockey Club is too close to the Epsom Derby. If you want to raise its reputation and attract more European Uma Musume, I suggest shortening the race distance."
"Shortening—?" Edward narrowed his eyes, then smiled thoughtfully. "I'll note your suggestion. Our URA Association will discuss it."
For the French URA Association, it was embarrassing that the first two crowns of the French Classic Triple Crown had been taken by an overseas Uma Musume. However, because the Trainer himself had strong ties to France, public sentiment remained calm. Even so, losing the two crowns meant Paris Central Tracen Academy would pour resources into finding new stars in the coming year.
But that had nothing to do with Shuta An, who was preparing to step on stage with Oguri Cap and Berno Light. After Oguri Cap received the trophy from the URA Chairman, she didn't immediately lift it for the crowd. Instead, she turned and handed it to Shuta An.
He blinked, stepped back, and gestured for Berno Light to join them. "This honor belongs to Berno too."
Oguri Cap nodded. "That's right."
When Shuta An first touched the Prix du Jockey Club trophy, he always felt a chill from the weather.
"Or maybe I'm just in high spirits now—" he murmured before raising the trophy together with the two Uma Musume.
"The French Two Crowns achieved after 26 years! Oguri Cap has carved her name into the Twinkle Series' history!" The Green Channel commentator was more excited than during the Japanese Derby broadcast.
No one blamed her—everywhere from Tokyo's busiest districts to quiet Kasamatsu, spectators who watched the French Derby were cheering for the "Star of Kasamatsu."
"Perhaps she's no longer just that," Symboli Rudolf said. "She deserves to be called the 'Star of Japan.'"
That evening, Shuta An and Oguri Cap declined the celebration banquet hosted by the URA Association.
"So I'm the one who has to go?" Berno Light pointed to herself and pouted. "It'll look bad if no one attends."
"Just don't be overly enthusiastic," Shuta An advised. "Smile, listen to compliments, and if they try to dig for future plans, say you're preparing to go home and have no interest in the Triple Crown."
"Mhm, mhm, I know." Berno Light stuck out her tongue. "Trainer, relax. I won't leak anything."
"Honestly, I doubt any reporter would dare pick on Berno tonight," Shuta An muttered, patting her shoulder. "Just enjoy the banquet."
"You know that's impossible—" she murmured under her breath, too soft for him to hear.
After Berno Light left, Shuta An returned to his room and checked the clock—exactly 7 PM Paris time. He opened the window. The sound of rain drifted in. Unlike his irritation that afternoon, now that victory was secured, the rain felt soothing.
"What a pleasant sound," he murmured while gazing at the illuminated Chantilly Castle. He extended his hand, catching raindrops before closing his fist as if holding the castle itself. "I should thank Oguri. Without this win, I wouldn't have this peace."
Just as he finished speaking, the door opened behind him. He turned—and as expected, Oguri Cap entered. Unlike earlier, she now wore a loose gray nightgown, relaxed and entirely unguarded, radiating a quiet allure. Shuta An froze for a heartbeat.
"What are you staring at, Trainer?" Oguri approached.
He snapped out of it and smirked. "I'm looking at Oguri."
"Honestly, it still feels like a dream," she said, gazing out the window. "We actually exceeded our goal for the year."
"Now you hold two overseas Classic G1s. You can run anywhere from here on out. Even if you retired this year, you'd qualify for the Dream Trophy easily." He wrapped an arm around her waist and sniffed lightly. "This citrus smell—it's not perfume, so what is it?"
"I'm not retiring yet. I'll keep running in the Twinkle Series for at least two more years—for the fans back home." She answered calmly before explaining the scent. "It's essential oil. I heard French Uma Musume talking about tail care this afternoon, so I tried some too."
The Gray Uma Musume patted his lower back with her tail. "How does it feel, Trainer?"
She watched his expression closely.
"It's great. I really like it," he said after inhaling gently, eyes closed.
Oguri's mood brightened.
"What would you like to drink?" Shuta guided her from the balcony to the living room.
"As you wish," she replied—unexpectedly obedient.
"We've been in France for months yet never tasted their wine," he mused. "But since you're still active, alcohol is off-limits. Let's have grape juice."
"Mhm." Oguri sat on the sofa, shifting to leave room beside her.
The clock read exactly 7:05.
"This is so good!" Oguri's eyes shone as she finished the first glass. "I have this in my room but never tried it. I didn't expect it to taste this amazing."
"Trainer, your taste is incredible!" she declared with a dazzling smile.
"Of course, it is." Shuta swirled his glass. "Otherwise, how would I have found Oguri with just one bump?"
"I'm so sorry—" Oguri blushed deeply at the memory of their first meeting. She quickly poured herself more juice and held her glass out for a toast. "I was in a rush and acted rudely."
"No need to apologize." Shuta pinched her cheek gently. "If anything, you've already repaid me far more through your actions. I don't even know how to return it."
They continued chatting while drinking. After refilling her glass, Shuta noticed her hand trembling slightly.
"What's wrong?" he asked, turning to find her cheeks flushed, gray eyes hazy, the citrus scent of her tail blending with the fragrance of grape juice rising from her.
Oguri Cap, now completely relaxed in her nightgown, leaned against him. From the slight opening below, he could—
"Ann~ one more glass." Her words, especially the intimate new way she addressed him, stole his attention entirely.
"No more juice, okay?" Shuta lightly flicked her nose. "Tonight, isn't just for a grape juice tasting."
Now he regretted not using carrot juice. This wouldn't have happened.
"Hold me—" Oguri murmured, her breath warm against his ear.
And of course, he wouldn't refuse. Scooping her up into a princess carry, he kissed her cheek. "They say grapes need a year to mature before becoming wine—and I've spent more than a year with Oguri, haven't I?"
He was a little drunk himself, cheeks flushed and ears burning. Still holding her, he headed toward the bedroom. Before entering, he glanced at the clock.
7:30.
Tonight's grape juice tasting had only just begun.
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