After leaving the dorm, Kitahara Sota walked off with an easy heart, heading toward the meeting point he'd set with Nice Nature.
As for handing over his dorm key to Hayakawa Tazuna?
To be honest—if it were any other Uma Musume, the moment he even considered giving them his key, even if they weren't one of his own girls, he'd hesitate.
Because sure, he'd probably get the key back in the end.
But would it come back... alone? Or with a little something extra—like a backup copy, or a backup copy, or maybe even a backup copy? He couldn't be sure.
There were far too many precedents of older trainers crashing and burning in exactly this way. So from the moment he joined, Kitahara had sworn to himself:
Even if one of his own girls had a legitimate reason to enter his dorm, even if they came in person to borrow the key, he would rather haul himself back in person than ever let them touch his keys.
Fortunately, up till now, he hadn't spotted a single Uma Musume with designs on his dorm key.
What did that prove? That his handling had been perfect. They didn't even think of him that way!
And with Tazuna? There was even less to worry about.
To all of Tracen's Uma Musume, she was the infamous Green Devil. To trainers, she was practically the Savior. Her safety rating was beyond question.
Forget being cautious—if one day he really did crash and burn, kidnapped into some basement by an overzealous horse girl, it'd probably be Tazuna who came to rescue his pelvis.
In that case, forget handing her a key in an emergency. If she ever asked for a permanent spare "for his protection," he'd hand it over without hesitation.
Did people not understand the sheer value of the Green Devil's brand?
So, despite giving out a spare key, Kitahara felt no anxiety at all, and went off lightheartedly to his meeting with Nice Nature.
Not long after he arrived, she appeared from another corner.
A greeting, a few words—and they headed to the racetrack.
With the team so large now, it was impossible to bring the whole squad to every race. So Kitahara's practice had become simple: take the racer and Eclipse, no more.
The others didn't object.
For one thing, with so many in the team, if they all went every time, no one would train anymore—they'd just spend every day watching others' races.
For another, they'd gradually realized that dragging each other down like this would only worsen the competition between them, and risk outsiders sneaking in.
So, though it was never discussed aloud, Kitahara's team had quietly agreed: this way was best. It gave everyone fair progress, without anyone tripping the others up.
As for the scents clinging faintly to Kitahara—those of the Chairwoman, Tazuna, and Rudolf—Nice Nature noticed. But she didn't press.
Because even though Kitahara hadn't shown up at the training ground yesterday, she'd spotted him at lunch in the cafeteria.
And it was clear he was talking business with Kudou Kazuya, so she'd wisely left him be.
Later, she'd heard about him and Rudolf heading into the Chairwoman's office. So carrying a trace of their scent wasn't surprising.
The only odd part was that after a whole night, it should have dissipated. Why was it still so distinct now?
It couldn't be... that they spent the night together?
The thought flickered—but she didn't cling to it.
After all, the Chairwoman, Tazuna, Rudolf... they weren't on the same plane as her and the other younger girls.
It was like school. A girl in love might fret over classmates or schoolmates stealing her boyfriend. But would she worry about the principal or the dean?
Completely different category.
So although the lingering scent seemed excessive, Nice Nature dropped it quickly, focusing instead on preparing for her race.
Off the bus. Into the venue. Into the temporary waiting room.
Just like Tokai Teio's race, this was an early-stage but rare G3. Every opponent here was strong—most of them future rivals at G1 level.
But Kitahara and Nice Nature were both calm. Not a flicker of nerves.
Kitahara's attitude was easy to read. He'd brought Nice Nature in just to clean up his old mess.
The rest? He'd rather slack. Winning or losing didn't matter.
But Nice Nature—
"You're not nervous?"
Watching her so at ease, it was Kitahara who grew puzzled.
Teio he could understand. A genius like her had the capital to be arrogant.
But Nice Nature? True, she'd won both her debut and base races. But shadowed so long by the curse of always third place, she wasn't exactly confident.
And this was her first graded stakes. Kitahara had expected nerves—fear that the curse might strike again, fear of being shut out of first forever. He'd even prepared himself to give a pre-race pep talk.
But now... she was calmer than him.
In fact, calm enough to tease him.
"What is it? Kitahara-san, do you want me nervous?"
"No, just asking. If you're not nervous, good... But if you are nervous, don't force yourself. You can talk to me."
"Mm. I will."
Her tail swayed gently.
The truth was, Nice Nature knew—if she faked nervousness right now, she could probably get his comfort.
But she didn't want to.
Not because she disliked closeness. Not because she didn't treasure stolen chances. Not because she was shy.
But because she didn't want to burden him with something false.
Her view was much like Special Week's: feelings should be mutual.
But unlike Spe-chan, she didn't use cuteness to draw him closer. Instead, she chose another road.
Accompanying. And helping.
Accompanying was simple—Uma Musume were with their trainers all the time anyway. She only needed excuses to stay near him more.
Helping was harder. Normally, trainers looked after the girls. Students rarely had chances to help trainers.
People often said a girl's best way to help was by winning on the track. But Nice Nature didn't believe that.
Because victory was a shared duty. Just as trainers had an obligation to guide, Uma Musume had an obligation to win.
What Nice Nature wanted was beyond that: to provide help in daily life, to lighten his load, to never add to his troubles.
Feelings were two-way. Help should be two-way. She couldn't take Kitahara's care as a given just because she liked him.
She wanted to give back. To pay. To stand equal. To interweave lives and support each other.
And then, in that position, stand openly before him, and confess.
So, though she would press close to him when fear was real, though she had moved into his side when she knew it caused no burden—
She would not invent nerves, would not fake weakness just to wring comfort from him.
As for why she wasn't nervous?
Simple.
Maybe once, she'd have feared. That the curse of third would fall again. That she'd never touch first place.
But now—seeing Kitahara beside her—fear and tension had no foothold.
Time passed.
Soon, it was entry time.
She and Kitahara left the waiting room, walked together until the fork.
Just as they parted—Kitahara heading to the trainers' stands—Nice Nature called softly behind him:
"Wait, Kitahara-san."
He turned, puzzled.
She walked up, and carefully began fixing small details he hadn't noticed: smoothing his collar, straightening creases, brushing his sleeves.
Her expression was focused, her touch gentle. She'd practiced this many times during camp, always finding chances to tidy him.
Kitahara didn't resist. It wasn't strange. She was in her first OP-level race, and didn't want her trainer to look sloppy by her side.
When she finished, she nodded in satisfaction.
Then she lightly tapped his chest with a small fist, muttering:
"At least take care of your image a little, Kitahara-san..."
He gave a helpless smile.
"You know I'm not good at this..."
Not laziness. Even he couldn't let his girls lose face in a proper race.
But perhaps he was too used to not valuing himself. Even trying, he only reached "passable."
Eclipse?
Well, she'd once handled his daily life. But she was clumsy too. At first, a disaster. Now barely normal. Once Nice Nature and Creek came, she happily dumped it all and enjoyed his care instead.
Nice Nature paused at his words. Her tail flicked more sharply. Then, in a slightly different tone, she spoke.
"Um, Kitahara-san."
"What is it?"
She raised her eyes, steady, mustering courage.
"If I win this race... will you grant me a request? As a reward."
He froze. For a moment he almost thought she was going to ask him to take her shoes off, like Tachyon had.
Then he remembered—this was Nice Nature, not Tachyon.
"You know you're setting a flag, right?"
He sighed. Why did they all like to do this before races?
But before she could worry he'd refuse, he added:
"Alright. Whether you win or not, I'll grant one request. If you win—I'll grant you one extra."
Anyone else, he wouldn't agree so easily.
But Nice Nature was always obedient, considerate. He trusted she wouldn't ask anything outrageous.
And she had helped him so much—supporting training, easing his life. He wanted to give something back.
With this safety net, he figured it wouldn't be a flag anymore. It might even ease her pressure. So he simply made it buy one, get one.
Her eyes lit up, thrilled. Of course she accepted immediately.
Then, with time pressing, they parted.
Kitahara went to the trainer's stand. Nice Nature stepped lightly toward the field.
Her steps were light, her smile bright.
But once she entered, the other competitors' smiles vanished. Their footsteps grew heavy.
Different from usual.
Normally, Nice Nature's uncontrolled aura alone was pressure enough.
But "uncontrolled" didn't mean "uncontrollable."
Her menacing presence at ordinary times was already the result of holding back.
And during Kitahara's nursing, he hadn't only taught her to restrain.
He'd taught her to control. And to strengthen.
Because her style was this. Pressure was her weapon. Gate-blocking was officially recognized by URA as a racing method. He wasn't about to let her throw it away.
The strengthening wasn't obvious in daily life. Because as her aura grew, so did her mastery. She actually felt lighter, tricking people into thinking she was weaker.
But that was an illusion.
On the track, no need to suppress or hide—
The monster Kitahara always saw in her, sharpened further under his guidance, now bared itself fully.
The pressure crashed over her rivals like a wave. Like prey caught in a predator's gaze.
Some even swore they heard boss battle music as she entered, drawing all eyes, like a final boss.
Nice Nature herself, used to this, simply gave her formal greeting to her tense rivals and slipped into her gate.
Terrifying, yes—but few believed she could win.
Because though she'd won her debut and base races, most assumed it was only because her opponents underperformed.
And with her focus on suppressing others, her speed and strength weren't considered outstanding.
And since the audience couldn't feel her pressure, they easily believed she was weak.
Against opponents who had all won their debuts, all prodigies, her odds plummeted—ranked fifteenth in popularity.
And that was only thanks to Kitahara's other girls performing so brilliantly before her. Otherwise, she might've been dead last.
But Nice Nature didn't mind.
Fifteenth, curses of third—it all meant nothing compared to the figure watching from the stands.
Wins on the track mattered.
But long ago, she'd realized—there were many kinds of "first place."
Some, more important than any rank on a board.
And now, the most important "first" was beside her. So what was there to fear?
Time moved again.
The gates filled.
Crouched, ready to start.
Bang!
The gates burst open.
Nice Nature fired at full power instantly.
Buzz—
Normally, this moment was when everyone scrambled to sprint.
But Nice Nature's unleashed aura stunned the girls around her for a heartbeat.
By the time they snapped back, they had already made the fatal mistake no runner of this level should ever make—
A late start.
Nice Nature, meanwhile, surged forward easily, taking a fine position.
Yet strangely, despite the clear advantage, she didn't push for the lead. She drifted mid-pack.
Others might think her too weak to advance.
But Kitahara on the stand knew.
It wasn't that she couldn't. She didn't want to.
Because mid-pack maximized her gate-blocking field. She could squeeze both front and back.
And indeed—though boxed in, she looked relaxed, conserving stamina.
Her rivals?
Faces twisted.
Even the leaders, even the trailers, wore strain.
It was barely the start, and already a few girls' breathing and steps were broken.
And those still steady weren't fine either. Heavier steps. Greater drain.
Every few moments, another mental check against her crushing aura.
Some tried to bolt, to escape the field, lessen the pressure.
But every time, Nice Nature simply tightened her aura.
And with the race plan Kitahara had tailored, she raised the cost of escape so high it was intolerable.
So, under this torment, the race reached one-third distance.
If the audience had a system, they'd see it clearly—debuffs stacked all over Nice Nature's rivals, especially those ahead:
Late start. Rushed. Heavy steps. Strength drained. Thoughts dulled. Willpower fading...
And that was with them being prodigies. With iron wills.
If it had been ordinary first-years? Add "fear," "loss of fighting spirit," even "fainting" to the list.
And even then—this wasn't her limit.
If she wished, she could do worse.
Focus her aura onto a single target, carve trauma deep.
Feign calm, then explode midway for a shock.
Force rivals off-line, into danger, even into fouls...
But Nice Nature was a gate horse, not some shameless mutt with no bottom line. Forget doing such things—she had never even thought of them.
Kitahara knew this. Otherwise he wouldn't have sighed about creating a monster.
But he had never mentioned such possibilities to her, and never once considered telling her to use them on the track.
By the time the race entered the last third, the abnormality was undeniable.
Clearly, this was supposed to be the fiercest stretch of the race.
Yet those in the front were already buckling, stamina spent, one after another faltering.
The mid-pack, who by logic should have had more stamina—were closest to Nice Nature, and thus suffered the greatest pressure. Not long after the leaders slowed, their pace, too, began dropping sharply.
And the rear-guard chasers...
They still had enough stamina to keep their footing. But accelerating forward was no longer possible.
So at this moment, after conserving herself for so long—Nice Nature finally began to accelerate.
With reserves intact, with practiced overtaking skills, she breezed past the slowing runners ahead.
And with a lead of a length, she seized the victory.
In truth, she could have widened that lead much further.
But this was her first time showing her strength after Kitahara's conditioning.
Even she hadn't expected to shut them down this badly. She almost felt embarrassed about it. So she held back, not daring to win too hard.
After crossing the line, she immediately drew back her aura. Still a trace lingered, but compared to before it was little more than a breeze.
Then, after giving polite greetings to the rivals who still stared at her with fear, she walked back into the tunnel.
There, a man was waiting.
"Congratulations."
Kitahara smiled as he spoke.
"So, what reward does our Miss First Place want?"
Hearing that, Nice Nature looked up at him. Her tail swayed gently.
She stayed silent for a moment, then slowly spoke.
"Kitahara-san, I remember what you said. If I won, I'd have two chances to make a request..."
"Of course. I never go back on my word."
Kitahara gave a little laugh.
"And as long as it's within my ability—even if it's a little excessive, it's fine. You've helped me so much, Nice Nature. I've wanted to repay you."
"In that case..."
She lifted her gaze, gathered her courage, and said earnestly:
"My first request is this: since Kitahara-san, you're not good at looking after yourself in daily life—then let me take responsibility for that."
Kitahara blinked.
This was a reward?
"But Nice Nature, you still have school, and training..."
"There's always the evenings. And now that my race is done, I'll often need to go to Kitahara-san's place anyway for continued care. It's perfect—I can tidy up your room, and if another girl has a race, I can come in the morning to help you get ready..."
Truthfully, Kitahara wanted to refuse.
Not because he feared raising Nice Nature's affection. In his mind, she was one of the "safe" girls.
But this would make her busier. It felt like exploiting her. Like free child labor.
He knew Nice Nature was a thoughtful kid. She must have made this request because she could see he was overwhelmed, and wanted to ease his burden.
But as a trainer, he truly hated the idea of his troubles spilling onto the very children he was meant to protect.
The problem was—he had already promised. And her insistence was iron.
After several failed attempts to dissuade her, he could only sigh and agree.
Even so, he couldn't see this as a "reward." He was already thinking—when they got back to the waiting room, maybe he'd offer her some compensation himself. Take her shoes off, perhaps. Something like that.
But that could wait.
This was only the first request. He hadn't forgotten his promise.
"And the second?" he asked, putting on a mock-serious expression.
"This time, it has to be for yourself. If you try to offer me another chore, I won't allow it."
Facing his fake severity, Nice Nature looked hesitant.
Not because she believed it. She knew he was pretending.
But the truth was, she hadn't thought this far ahead. Before the race, she had only prepared one request. Having two made her happy—but what to ask for with the second?
Then, in her searching, her eyes flicked to the phone in Kitahara's pocket.
And a bold idea sprouted.
"Kitahara-san... you really mean it? Even if it's a little excessive, it's okay?"
"Of course."
"Then..."
Her tail swayed harder. She lifted her face, cheeks a little warm.
"Could I add you on LINE, Kitahara-san?"