The day after I officially became Haru Urara's trainer.
I met up with her the moment her classes let out, and we got straight to work.
I'd been looking back on my meeting with the Chairwoman and Ms. Hayakawa earlier that morning. I had wondered what that summons was about, but I'd left the room after firmly declaring my intent to train Haru Urara. Both of them looked like they had something they wanted to say, but I wasn't about to let them pull me away from a girl with such a bright future. Perhaps they'd intended to entrust her to a veteran rather than a greenhorn like me, but I was the one who stepped up—and she was the one who accepted.
As a rookie, I didn't have much in the way of professional pride, but I had absolutely no intention of handing her off to someone else now that she'd put her trust in me.
"Alright, let's dive right into training… or so I'd like to say. First, Urara!"
"Yup! What is it, what is it?"
"I need you to take a test!"
I stood before her, having already changed into my tracksuit. Urara, similarly dressed in her gym kit, tilted her head so far over that her ears flopped sideways.
"A-A test? I'm… I'm not really good at school stuff…"
Her tail wilted dejectedly. I gave her a wry smile and held up the stopwatch I'd checked out from the equipment room.
"It's not that kind of test. I just need to see how you run."
The term "Horse Girl" is a broad one; their aptitudes and abilities vary wildly from person to person.
In the racing world, events are categorized by distance: Sprints, Miles, Medium, and Long. Each requires a vastly different set of skills. You have the Sprinters, built for explosive speed. The Milers, masters of the 1600-meter mark. The Middle-Distance runners, and the Stayers who thrive on endurance. While some "All-rounders" can handle any distance, they are incredibly rare.
On top of that, every girl has her own preferred strategy.
There are the Runners, who seize the lead the moment the gates open and never look back. Then there are the Leaders, who stay just behind the front of the pack, waiting for the perfect gap to overtake. The Betweeners linger in the middle or slightly back, accelerating through the final corner to sweep past the competition. Finally, there are the Chasers, who stay at the very back until the final stretch, where they unleash a devastating burst of speed from the outside.
Generally, a girl chooses the style that suits her best before taking on a race.
Running at the right distance with the right strategy allows a Horse Girl to truly shine, though they still have to deal with being boxed in, marked by rivals, or even physical jostling depending on the heat. Elements like the field of competitors, the track surface, and the weather are all vital—but knowing exactly who Haru Urara is as an athlete is the first priority. That knowledge would dictate our entire training regimen and race schedule going forward.
"…And that's the gist of it. This test is so I can figure out what kind of runner you are."
Urara stared at me, mouth slightly agape as I finished my explanation. But a moment later, her face lit up with a beaming smile, and she began hopping up and down on the spot.
"Whoa… Amazing! You sound just like a real Trainer!"
"I am a real Trainer. I'll have you know I have a license and everything."
I was only reciting knowledge that even a casual racing fan would know, but to Urara, it seemed like a revelation. There was a slim chance she was making fun of me, but looking at that pure, radiant smile, I knew that was impossible.
"Anyway, Urara, here's the plan. We'll do a warm-up, and then I want you to run one lap of each distance. There aren't any other girls on the track, but I want you to run like it's the real deal. Give it everything you've got… Hm? What's wrong?"
As I was giving instructions, I noticed Urara staring intently at me. I tilted my head in confusion, and she gave me a brilliant, toothy grin.
"I want you to call me 'Urara'! Is that okay?"
"Oh… If you're fine with it, sure. Er… Urara."
"Yay! Okay, time for warm-ups!"
"One-two! One-two!" she chirped, beginning her calisthenics. I scratched my head as I watched her.
She was incredibly friendly—perhaps too friendly. Since this was my first time training anyone, I wasn't sure what the "proper" professional distance was supposed to be. I'd heard of trainers using nicknames, but I hadn't expected to be on a first-name basis on day one. Still, after being rejected by every girl I'd tried to scout recently, her openness was a welcome change.
"Trainer! I'm all ready!"
"Right! Let's start with the Sprint! Don't push so hard you hurt yourself, but give me your best effort. You can run however you like!"
I raised my voice to match her energy. She was so fired up; I couldn't afford to look gloomy.
"Alright! I'm gonna do my best!"
"That's the spirit! Ready? And… Go!"
I clicked the stopwatch with a surge of excitement. Simultaneously, Urara kicked off and hammered down the track.
The first test was a 1200-meter Sprint on the turf. Since Tracen Academy had so many students, they had an abundance of practice tracks; we were using one of them to clock her time.
She's just starting out, and this isn't a real race, I thought. Let's see. If she hits 13 seconds per furlong… no, if she breaks 14, that's a decent start.
Horse Girls are creatures capable of hitting speeds over 60 kilometers per hour, though obviously, they can't maintain top speed from start to finish. Even so, this was a world where top speeds exceeded 70 km/h and averages over 60 were commonplace.
In a real Sprint, a girl at top speed would cover a 200-meter furlong in about 10 to 11 seconds. A 12-second furlong is roughly 60 km/h, and 13 seconds is about 54 km/h. For a dedicated sprinter, anything over 13 seconds is usually considered quite poor.
Still, Urara was a novice. She would get faster. And even if the time was bad, it might just mean she wasn't suited for sprinting. Without any rivals to push her, it might be hard to find her "gear," though the lack of interference usually makes for a cleaner, faster time.
I was mulling these thoughts over while tracking her splits, but then—
Is it just me, or is her form falling apart? And she looks gassed, and she's not even halfway yet…
I watched her, blinking in disbelief. I'd seen countless girls run during my time at the training institute and at the track, but Urara's gait was visibly unrefined. It lacked… everything.
"Phew… hah… Goal!"
Urara crossed the 1200-meter mark. She was panting, sweat beading on her forehead, but she wore a look of total triumph.
"...?"