The next morning.
Sunlight filtered through sparse clouds, pouring down over the Mejiro family's private training grounds.
The air was filled with the clean scent of grass and morning dew. A few sparrows chirped on the fence. Everything looked quiet, peaceful, and beautiful.
And yet, standing by the track, Naise Fumino felt like the world had gone insane.
"…"
Her eyes were wide, her lips slightly parted. The composed, cool, intellectual beauty she usually projected had completely collapsed.
She looked at Kuroha in front of her—who was holding a notebook and calmly jotting down notes like nothing was wrong.
Then she stiffly turned her neck and looked several meters away.
There.
Super Creek, who by all logic should have been wrapped in thick plaster and lying in a hospital bed, quietly awaiting the end of her career.
Was currently bouncing around on the grass like an overjoyed little deer.
Creek lifted her knees high a few times, tested a couple of hops, then her face lit up with astonished delight.
"It really… doesn't hurt at all?"
Not even a trace of soreness. As if yesterday's bone-crunching sound that had ripped her apart with pain had been nothing but a nightmare.
"You…"
Fumino stayed silent for a full thirty seconds, her brain crashing and rebooting several times, before she finally forced out a sentence and looked at Kuroha.
"…Are you a reincarnation of the Three Goddesses?"
Other than a miracle, she couldn't think of any scientific explanation.
That kind of absurd injury—how could it possibly be healed after just one night of sleep?!
"What kind of nonsense are you saying?" Kuroha looked at her with a strange expression.
"If I were one of the Three Goddesses, the first thing I'd do is change the blessing into eternal night."
"…" Fumino's mouth twitched.
"Alright, stop looking like some country bumpkin who's never seen the world," Kuroha said, waving a hand.
Then his expression turned a notch more serious, and he lowered his voice.
"But there's something I need to remind you both about."
He pointed toward Creek, who was still savoring the feeling of being reborn.
"Here, you can run a few laps and get it out of your system. But the moment you step out that gate…"
Kuroha narrowed his eyes and gave a firm, careful instruction.
"You'd better obediently disguise it as a limp. Bandages every day, a cane in hand. Don't let it slip."
"Once July's summer break comes, find an excuse to go abroad, or recuperate somewhere remote. When you come back, you can drop the act and tell the outside world it was a medical miracle, or a freakishly fast recovery."
As he spoke, Kuroha snapped his notebook shut with one hand, his tone carrying a faintly intimidating edge.
"Otherwise, if the URA Association or some insane medical institute drags you off to be cut into samples, don't come crying to me."
"And if anyone asks, don't you dare say I treated it. I won't acknowledge a thing."
In the future, Silence Suzuka would also suffer a comminuted fracture in the final race of her career, and only after years overseas would recovery even become possible.
But in this era, medical technology wasn't nearly as advanced as it would be several years later.
And Creek's condition had been far worse than Suzuka's.
A comminuted fracture was the lightest part of it.
Even in the best overseas medical institutions, a cure would have been almost impossible.
The moment she heard the words "cut into samples," Creek—still basking in joy—jerked her neck back in fright, immediately stopped hopping around, and stood perfectly still like a well-behaved child.
Fumino also snapped back to reality.
She rolled her eyes, then rubbed her forehead with an exhausted sigh.
"Fine, fine… I'm not an idiot. I understand what's at stake."
If the outside world learned that a first-class, lifelong disability that should have been permanent could heal overnight, the entire Uma Musume world would quake.
The trouble that followed would be far beyond what they could endure.
"…You sure?" Kuroha raised an eyebrow.
"Am I?!" The purple-haired beauty instantly grit her teeth and glared at him.
Kuroha laughed and waved it off, not continuing the argument.
"As long as you know," he said. "But…"
His tone shifted.
"During this period, you should start preparing Creek's retirement application."
"…" Fumino's face turned pale in an instant.
Right. Retirement.
Even if the injury was healed, reality was still cruel.
As Creek's trainer, Fumino understood it perfectly.
If Creek entered races right now, with her physical ability, she could still crush lower-level events.
But… there was no point.
For an Uma Musume who had just brushed the summit at the Tenno Sho, bullying small races brought no honor at all.
And in the public eye, Creek was now a "critically injured patient."
She couldn't possibly race.
But if she waited until after summer break—meaning a comeback in September or October—then her peak would have been gone for over half a year, and physical performance would inevitably decline.
Nearly a 10% drop in overall physical specs. Her Domain unusable. The athletic heart gone. Her mind no longer clear.
Even the running techniques she'd hammered into personal perfection would become difficult to apply in practice.
Would her overall strength really drop by only 30%?
A comeback like that would only tarnish her former brilliance.
The mood grew heavy.
"By the way."
Just then, as if remembering something, Kuroha added casually.
"If you only finalize the retirement after the break ends…"
He thought for a moment.
"Six months from now—early next year—the first URA Series that the Chairwoman is hosting. Can Creek enter that?"
Boom—!
The words struck like lightning, instantly tearing open the gloom hanging over the training grounds.
Fumino's head snapped up. The dimness in her eyes flared into an astonishing brilliance.
"Right!" she exclaimed, clapping her palm in excitement.
"It's not like there's only the 'Glitter Series' system anymore!"
The URA Series—Fumino had heard of it before.
A special set of races outside the regular Glitter Series schedule, independent of the standard circuit, created as a stage for Uma Musume who had been retired for a year or even longer.
In the past, because Creek was still in her peak, powerful and in full bloom, Fumino had never bothered to study those races.
But now it was different.
Her mind started spinning at high speed.
If they waited until after summer break to retire, the timing would absolutely be too tight.
But if they started counting from now, there were still nearly six months before the URA Series.
Retired for eight months and retired for a year—those weren't worlds apart. There was room to maneuver.
"She can! Absolutely she can!" Fumino clenched her fist, eyes burning with fierce fire.
Kuroha watched her get so energized and couldn't help feeling speechless.
"Maneuver? You're not thinking of pulling strings, are you?"
"Hmph!"
Fumino snorted, arms crossed over her chest, chin tilted up.
"What do you mean, pulling strings? That's called making reasonable use of rules and network resources."
She glanced at Kuroha.
"You're a little brat who's been a trainer for less than three years. What do you know about real-world connections and social dynamics?"
"…" Kuroha choked on that.
Fair enough.
If you talked seniority, he wasn't even twenty. In Central Tracen Academy he was just a blazing new star.
When it came to association connections and institutional clout, he really couldn't compare to a second-generation trainer like Fumino—an experienced veteran who knew how things worked.
"Alright."
Fumino moved decisively, turning around at once.
"I'll go talk to Creek. As for the treatment cost and the wear-and-tear from borrowing the training grounds during this time… calculate it yourself and send me the bill later. I won't short you a single yen."
She waved her hand and strode toward Creek.
But just before she fully turned away, her steps paused slightly.
The purple-haired woman half-turned. Sunlight fell across her profile, and it seemed to tint her pale cheek with the faintest blush.
She didn't look at Kuroha. She only stared at the grass underfoot, her voice muffled.
"Anyway…"
"Thanks, for everything these past few days."
And before Kuroha could respond, she turned as if she'd done something guilty, and bolted toward Creek like she was fleeing the scene.
"…"
Left alone where he stood, Kuroha watched her retreating back with a strange expression.
"Tsundere?" he muttered, rubbing his chin.
"But you're not even a blonde twin-tail. Did you put points into the wrong attribute?"
Still…
Kuroha swept his gaze across the training grounds bathed in morning light, listening to the girls' playful chatter in the distance.
He stretched lazily, a relaxed ease flashing across his face.
No matter what, this was the best ending.
(End of Chapter)
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