What's the first thing an Uma Musume should do after getting injured?
"If it's bleeding, you need to quickly apply direct pressure with cloth or gauze to stop the bloodflow. Maintain pressure for ten seconds before removing the gauze. If the bleeding hasn't stopped, repeat the process…"
Sunday Serenity answered the exam questions, her face clouded with frustration.
Two hours later, she had finally finished answering every question.
Then, as if lifted by an unseen hand, the test paper drifted away. Nearby, book pages turned on their own, and a red pen, defying gravity, stood upright on the desk, marking each answer with brisk strokes.
"Unfortunately…"
Sunday Silence's voice whispered by her ear.
"You've failed the exam."
"Oh, for goodness' sake!" Sunday Serenity clutched her head. She had been cooped up in this library for nearly half a month because of this infuriating test.
By nature, she wasn't one to sit still. Whenever she had nothing to do, her mind would wander to all sorts of wild ideas—like rescuing kidnapped teenagers or teaching troublemakers a lesson.
And since she was a woman of action, whatever she imagined, she would make happen, no matter how much effort it took.
If something helped her ideals, she pursued it relentlessly.
But when it came to things she found utterly useless—like medical knowledge—every word felt like an eternity.
"Why am I stuck taking trainer exams? It's not like I can actually apply to Tracen Academy anyway…"
She let out a groan of pure agony.
It felt like she had been dragged back into her old world, forced to become the most boring, ordinary student imaginable—down to her very core.
"Of course we can't take Tracen's official exams," Sunday Silence replied. "But there are things we still need to know."
"Like what?"
"Emergency treatment for injuries, how to adjust an Uma Musume's physical condition…"
"It's not like I'm going to get hurt."
Even if she were, human medical treatments wouldn't work on her.
"We might not need this knowledge ourselves," Sunday Silence said. "But Manhattan Cafe does."
"Haven't you noticed? These past few nights, she's been talking more during training—or rather, instead of training."
Sometimes they didn't train at all.
Instead, the two of them wandered the quiet campus like ordinary friends, chatting aimlessly as they walked.
It was nothing like before, when Sunday Silence would run ahead and Manhattan Cafe would chase after her. Their companionship had taken on a different shape.
They were no longer just shadows to one another.
Words and actions had woven their bond tighter than ever.
And that also meant there was more she could do to help Manhattan Cafe with her training.
Like studying up on trainer knowledge, so she could help improve Manhattan Cafe's abilities more effectively.
That was the original plan, at least.
But somewhere along the line, it had turned into aiming for professional-level expertise—even to the point of trying to pass Tracen's official trainer exam!
After all, those who passed the Central Tracen exam were all elite trainers, one in a hundred. Countless hopefuls were turned away by that very test, unable to enter the top-tier academy.
"If I could pass this, maybe I really do have what it takes to be a trainer," Sunday Serenity muttered under her breath.
"Manhattan Cafe's current trainer is professional enough, but he still can't grasp the full picture of her condition," Sunday Silence explained.
"The truth is, her hooves—well, her nails—are thin. During intense running drills, they're prone to splitting. There was one race where her nails gave her so much trouble she couldn't perform well and ended up with a terrible result."
After that race, Manhattan Cafe came off the track with blood seeping from the cracks in her nails, staining her whole toe.
The image was like white lilies splattered with crimson rain.
That she had endured the pain all the way to the finish line was, in Sunday Silence's eyes, truly remarkable.
But even so, finishing at the bottom of the pack left Manhattan Cafe deeply discouraged.
Injuries and illness were inescapable realities for Uma Musume.
With their incredible speed came equally incredible risks.
They were like glass artworks on display—brilliant and dazzling, yet terribly fragile.
That was why a trainer's most important duty was always to protect their Uma Musume's precious feet.
Sadly, many trainers became so fixated on pursuing speed that they overlooked this.
Even Manhattan Cafe's own trainer had fallen into that trap.
Of course, a big part of it was that Manhattan Cafe never told him about her injuries, keeping them completely to herself.
That was her own issue—she didn't want her trainer to worry too much.
That was exactly why Sunday Silence was studying trainer knowledge, especially anything related to medical care.
Around her trainer, Manhattan Cafe might hold back, but around her most important "friend," she was far more open.
She wouldn't hide her disappointment, nor would she put on a brave face while treating her injured feet.
Back then, watching an injured Manhattan Cafe, Sunday Silence hadn't been able to do much to help.
All she could manage was to hand her a gauze—and even then, her touch was so faint the gauze would slip and fall within seconds.
But now, things were completely different.
With the ability to interact with the physical world, she could do so much more than before.
Like flipping through books and taking notes.
Or staying right by Manhattan Cafe's side when she was hurt, looking after her without ever leaving.
That was an advantage she never had before.
Now, Sunday Silence wanted to make the most of it.
"Partner, learning these skills is in our best interest too. Just like any trainer must know—when to accelerate on different track lengths, how to pace based on remaining stamina."
"And how to adjust running form for different track conditions. Mastering these will help us immensely."
In short, she meant becoming their own trainer. Sunday Serenity got the idea.
But why am I the only one studying?
Wouldn't it be the same if you learned it, Professor Sunday Silence, who wasn't exactly gifted at teaching others in the first place?
She kept that thought to herself.
Once she'd had enough, Sunday Serenity dragged her exhausted body—nearly crushed under the weight of all that knowledge—toward the door, ready to return to the mirror world for a break.
They'd meet up with Manhattan Cafe again that evening.
But just as she reached to push the library door open—
Zap—!
A sharp sting shot through her hand.
Yes, a real sting!
It was the first time as a ghost that Sunday Serenity had ever felt pain!
Her fingers, as if they'd touched a living soul, were now marked with faint, translucent wounds.
Her whole body recoiled as if from an electric shock.
Stuck to the library door was a talisman she hadn't noticed before, inscribed with the words: [Ward Against Evil].
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T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 3 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
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If you guys wanna check it out.