When it came to training guidance, teaching by example often worked better than instruction by words.
Many experienced trainers frequently invited former trainees to help their current Uma Musume through joint runs and mock races.
Besides formal training sessions, there were also casual gatherings—all designed to help senpai pass their experiences on to their juniors.
Compared with theory-focused direct instruction, exchanges between senpai and kouhai were much more relaxed.
Under such atmosphere, Uma Musume found it easier to absorb experience, especially subtle details that trainers might overlook.
Like what Vodka had just pointed out—Yasui Makoto genuinely hadn't noticed before.
Reflecting carefully, he indeed felt that although younger, Almond Eye had a slightly sharper competitive edge than Kitasan Black. Without consciously observing, such things weren't easy to spot.
Realizing this, Yasui Makoto was about to seize the moment to say something to Kitasan Black when a sudden uproar arose from the stands.
Even the broadcast announcer's voice grew noticeably surprised.
"It's... contestant Gold Ship."
"Hmm... Gold Ship seems to be resisting entering the gate. She looks extremely agitated, and the staff are desperately trying to calm her—Ah!"
"There must be some misunderstanding. Gold Ship has pushed away the staff—is she planning to enter on her own?"
"No, she's running to the railings—what's this? She's kicking the fence?! This—this..."
"…Should I say, as expected of contestant Gold Ship?"
As the announcer and commentator finished their words, their tense voices clearly held a touch of helpless amusement.
The surprise among the audience soon transformed into laughter. Amid increasingly loud laughter, cheers and screams chanting "Gold Ship!" and "Golshi-sama!" quickly rose in unison, filling the Kyoto Racecourse with a joyous atmosphere.
Amid this laughter, a low, angry growl emerged from beside Yasui Makoto's group.
"What the hell is she doing...? That idiot—does she even realize this is a race?"
Clutching the railings so tightly her knuckles paled, ears flattened back against her golden hair, Orfevre narrowed her eyes, glaring fiercely at the gate area.
Nakayama Festa still had a lollipop dangling casually from her mouth, her expression seemingly relaxed. Yet her twitching ears and tail clearly revealed her inner agitation.
One arm folded across her chest, the other adjusting the chain glasses on her nose, Dream Journey was notably calmer than her younger sisters.
"Don't panic, Frev."
"You already know Golshi's always had trouble entering the gate."
"Besides, the staff—look, even Old Man's gone over there himself, right?"
Exactly as Dream Journey had said, after Gold Ship's odd behavior at the gates, the staff who'd been pushed away approached again—this time joined by an elderly figure standing behind the railing.
The old man wore a camel-colored vest over a Tracen Academy trainer's uniform.
His short white hair was neat, his posture perfectly upright. Walking with the staff, his steps seemed even more agile than those of the younger people around him.
Before even reaching Gold Ship, he raised one hand high, waving some kind of hood-like accessory, shouting something.
On the big screen facing the audience stands, his aged yet energetic face wore a clearly visible smile.
As if by miracle, the silver-haired girl who'd been kicking fences just minutes ago suddenly quieted down.
Obediently walking toward the old man, she let him pat her cheek fondly. She quietly donned the hood, then confidently thumped her chest.
After taking a deep breath, she waved to the old man, playfully shook her fist at the staff around her, then walked alone toward the gate.
The starting line of the Tenno Sho (Spring) lay directly opposite the audience stands. Seeing this scene distantly through the big screen, Orfevre silently let out a relieved sigh.
Her knuckles, having dented the railing, relaxed slightly, and her tense body finally eased.
Pulling the bare lollipop stick from her mouth, Nakayama Festa unwrapped a fresh one and popped it into her mouth, scoffing lightly.
"What a waste of my candy… Always making us worry."
Dream Journey glanced sideways at her, shaking her head. "You should really eat fewer sweets."
Then she adjusted her glasses, staring fixedly at the gate area, brows slightly knitted.
"Seems Old Man's words still hold some sway… But Gate 1, of all places…"
"I wonder if Golshi's ridiculous 'training' these past few days… actually did any good."
"Also…"
"Please, Golshi, don't miss the break again like last Tenno Sho…"
...
"Alright, after a brief bit of drama, contestant Gold Ship has finally entered the gate safely."
Seeing the gate area settle back into order, the announcer's voice regained composure, sounding relieved.
"The remaining contestants are entering their gates under the staff's guidance. The race is about to begin…"
The familiar commentary voice echoed around her ears. Gold Ship's ears twitched as she unconsciously touched the cold gate frame, reaching toward the hood covering her face.
She disliked this hood. The thing felt cheaply made, always causing a strange itchy sting against her skin.
But precisely because of this irritation, it distracted her from even more inexplicable anxiety, forcing her wandering attention—always distracted by something—to remain focused on the race in front of her.
For example, right now, besides noticing the pitifully torn-up state of the inner turf, she could also see the faint glimmer slipping through the gate's gaps.
That shimmer was from the gold embroidery of Kizuna's race uniform. Pretty flashy, but doesn't suit my tastes, obviously…
Wait—damn, why's my mind wandering again...?
Suddenly alert, she shook her head quickly, trying to refocus her thoughts back to the track ahead. But then memories from last year's moment suddenly surfaced.
Or rather, after losing last time, the gentle companionship of an aged figure handing her sugar cubes with a kind smile.
The lingering sweet yet faintly bitter taste now on her tongue—that must be from those sugar cubes back then…
Wait—my mind wandered again?! Didn't I just say that?!
Argh, this is so annoying!
Damn it… Why does racing have to be so troublesome?!
Can't we just start already—I still have plans to eat Taiyaki with everyone later!
Speaking of which, didn't Kita-chan bring some Taiyaki for lunch earlier? They were delicious, I'll have to ask her where she bought them...
Tch, Dream-nee's definitely gonna lecture me again about eating fewer sweets…
And that Frev…how dare she say something like that. I'll find a chance to settle that with her…
Festa didn't even speak up for me either—honestly, I seriously trained with that 'Golshi-sama's Anti-Late-Gate Mahjong Special Program,' didn't I?
Anyway, after this race is over, definitely—
Click.
Like a sharply-honed reflex from countless blindfold mahjong sessions, the crisp sound of the mechanical lock flicked into her ears. Her back instinctively straightened.
Threats of "Miss the start and you're dead" and muttered curses about her "absurd training methods" twisted into an invisible rein in her mind, forcing her weight forward onto her already well-positioned front legs.
The rough hood rubbed harshly against her eyelids, making her involuntarily blink.
The moment her feet touched the battered inner turf, the anticipated terrible sensation came clearly, yet she didn't even frown.
She swallowed involuntarily; the bittersweet memory of sugar cubes and the expected delicious Taiyaki uncontrollably filled her thoughts.
Instinctively, from the corner of her eyes, she glanced sideways at the sixteen figures to her outside and the surging excitement from the stands far beyond. Her lips curled upward in a broad grin directed into the empty air.
It's finally starting, everyone...