At dusk,
Kuroha followed the address Ginjirou Musaka had sent and arrived at a park near Central Tracen Academy.
At the gate, Ginjirou had been waiting for quite a while.
But the veteran trainer's face looked haggard, and the streaks of white in his hair were stark under the evening sun.
"Kuroha, sorry to make you come all the way out here," he forced a small smile.
"No need to be so polite," Kuroha chuckled, then asked, "What did you want to talk about?"
"…Let's walk and talk."
Leaning on his cane, Ginjirou turned toward the deeper paths of the park; his tone was heavy.
"Mm."
Kuroha nodded and followed at an unhurried pace.
They walked side by side along the quiet gravel path. Wind combed through the leaves.
In the end, Ginjirou spoke first. "Things have really been going your way lately."
There was genuine admiration in his voice, though he couldn't hide the fatigue. "Chasing Light's name keeps getting louder."
"I watched Fujimasa March in the Osaka Hai. That was a beautiful win."
"You flatter us, senpai."
Kuroha smiled modestly. "It's all thanks to their own hard work."
"It's not just Fujimasa March. I heard Mejiro Ardan and Sakura Chiyono O in your squad both took victories in their races as well."
Ginjirou's voice held the warmth of a senior pleased with his junior's success, but also a faint, hard-to-notice loneliness. "Truly… the younger generation is to be feared."
After a few simple exchanges, silence returned—this time longer.
Kuroha didn't try to force conversation. He simply walked with him.
He could feel how weighed down the older man was, as if an invisible boulder pressed on his shoulders.
At last, Kuroha turned his head and asked softly, "Ginjirou-san… is it because you're worried about Oguri Cap's mind and body?"
The moment he put it into words, Ginjirou's body stiffened.
"…Nothing gets past you, does it, kid?"
He turned, voice rasping. "It's my fault… all my fault for not noticing something was wrong with that child in time."
"If I'd been a little more attentive—if I'd realized her injury earlier—she wouldn't be missing the entire season…"
Self-reproach and regret wrapped around the old trainer, making him seem even older than his years.
Kuroha listened quietly without interrupting.
He knew that sometimes, simply being heard is a kind of comfort.
Only when Ginjirou's emotions had settled a little did Kuroha finally speak, calm but firm:
"Ginjirou-san, do you really think Oguri's injury is only because you didn't catch it in time?"
Ginjirou blinked, lifting his head.
Meeting his eyes, Kuroha went on:
"Last fall's back-to-back campaign pushed her body beyond its limits. Injury was almost predictable. But that isn't the whole story."
"Oguri's personality may look carefree on the surface, like she doesn't care about anything… but in truth, she's extremely sensitive to other people's feelings."
"That kind of personality makes her desperate to answer other people's expectations."
Because Fujimasa March exists, Oguri no longer clings to the obsession of being national number one.
Then why did she insist on that brutal string of races?
Others might not know. Even Oguri herself might be fuzzy about it.
But Kuroha—who knows the future—was certain.
"Expectations?" Ginjirou murmured.
"Yes. Expectations."
Kuroha's tone grew heavier. "From Kasamatsu to Central, she's shouldered too many expectations."
"From her hometown, from fans, from the association… The title 'Grey Monster' put her on a pedestal. Every time she runs, it feels like a task she must complete."
"Stringing together graded wins, then—still in her classic year—defeating horses in their senior year… everyone built her a shrine of expectations with their own hands."
"So she stubbornly took on three straight G1s—to answer what others expected of her."
Kuroha paused, then added solemnly, "So forgive my bluntness, Ginjirou-san…"
"Focusing only on her physical condition is not enough."
"The Arima Kinen win at the end of last year may have soothed the public for a while."
"But the day would come when that stubborn drive to answer expectations would crush her."
"She's the first morning star after the Symboli Rudolf era—the weight of gazes and burdens on her is immense."
"If someone had been easing that burden for her, fine. But if even you, Ginjirou-san, are that short-sighted…"
Kuroha's words were not gentle, yet Ginjirou didn't bristle—he paid attention to what came after.
The old man fell silent, then let out a wry laugh. "To think I'd live this long only to be schooled by a kid who isn't even twenty."
He laughed at himself, and the cloudiness in his eyes cleared a little.
He remembered back then—
His own charge ran race after race and lost again and again. He failed to find the key, offering only hollow encouragement, piling his expectations, his trust, his dreams onto that horse girl…
It led to an irreparable outcome.
He would never forget how, after her final race, that child's brilliance dimmed and went out.
Had he almost made the same mistake again?
Truly, growing older in years and younger in wisdom…
Ginjirou sighed.
He had indeed been strict with himself: never to foist his empty dreams onto horse girls.
But because of that, he'd overlooked something: a horse girl's world doesn't contain only her trainer.
Compared to the many people who believe in Oguri now, how tiny are his personal dreams?
And back when she won, briefly restoring people's faith—
Can he really say there wasn't even a moment where he once again entrusted his dream, once again "believed" in Oguri?
He asked his heart.
There must have been…
"So it really was you behind it the other day," Ginjirou said at last, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Kuroha sighed helplessly. "I'm not a wishing machine, you know."
Ginjirou shook his head and started walking again. "Sometimes, kid, you really seem like you can do anything."
Kuroha chuckled. "If only."
Oguri's fixation, like her injury, is best addressed early.
At this point, some solid psychological guidance is most of what she needs.
Many trainers don't value that—and that's how tragedies happen.
As for how Kuroha provides emotional value and clears mental roadblocks for his own horse girls?
Beyond his keen observation…
Well, there's tonight with Fujimasa March and Mejiro Ardan…
What you need is a body like diamond—and a kidney like diamond.
"Right—an experienced trainer at the Academy recently retired," Ginjirou said suddenly. "A vacancy opened up."
"If all goes well, you'll be a Senior Trainer soon. You should get more resources."
"By then, you'll have some say with the Central URA Association as well."
"Senior Trainer? Already?"
Kuroha blinked.
That was awfully fast.
He'd only joined Central in November of last year.
It hadn't even been half a year, and he was being pushed toward the senior ranks.
Rocket-fast.
At Central Tracen Academy, Senior Trainer isn't just an honor; it means top-tier resource access and a voice within the URA Association—
the lifetime goal for many ordinary trainers.
Seeing Kuroha's undisguised surprise, Ginjirou instead smiled—like it was only natural.
"Fast? I'd call it well-deserved."
He stopped, turned, and tapped the ground lightly with his old cane.
"Don't forget—since you joined, in less than half a year, your squad has already produced a G1 champion."
"And that's not even counting your other girls' results in graded stakes."
Ginjirou's gaze sharpened. "With a report card like that, forget six months—even give those time-servers five years and they still couldn't match it."
"On merit alone, you've earned a special promotion."
Kuroha could only smile wryly.
"Results are one part… but to pry open the jaws of those fossils in the Central Association, Ginjirou-san—you and Rudolf-tachi must've pushed, right?"
"Hah! You really do understand those association geezers."
Ginjirou laughed heartily. When the laughter faded, he glanced at the sky, now fully dark.
"All right, it's late. I should head back. As for Oguri—thank you. I owe you one."
"You're too polite, senpai."
"Enough with the hemming and hawing." Ginjirou waved a hand and turned for the park exit. His back looked straighter than when he'd come.
"I'm off!"
Kuroha stood and watched the old man's figure melt into the night.
"Senior Trainer—voice in the Association…"
He rolled the words on his tongue, a glint of thought in his eyes.
If he could gain more say—
then unreasonable race scheduling, decisions that might cause permanent harm to horse girls, even flawed training methods…
Maybe he could intervene at the source.
"…Why am I thinking so far ahead?"
After only a moment's musing, he cut the thought short.
"None of that concerns me yet. Better to take care of my own girls first."
Right now, he still had seven, between active and soon-to-debut, who needed his attention.
Kuroha checked his phone—late already.
Thinking of the two girls in the dorm who were still waiting to "consult him privately and in depth," he couldn't help a wry smile and a shake of the head.
"A sweet burden… huh."
(End of Chapter)
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