Kuroha had been back for several days now.
With less than a week left until the finish line of the Classic season—the Kikuka Sho—Central Tracen Academy was already thick with tension.
On the weekend, inside a clubroom.
A room that was usually empty and forgotten was now drowned in a heated, almost noisy atmosphere.
A banner hung right on the wall, scrawled in bold, over-the-top letters:
"TAKE DOWN MCQUEEN!"
Three big sofas faced a TV.
On one sofa sat Mejiro Ryan and Mejiro Palmer.
On the other sat Daitaku Helios and Daiichi Ruby.
And on the middle sofa sat the so-called "Top Four" trio—Aines Fujin, Haku Taisei, and Hakuya Rock.
"Thud-thud-thud—!"
On the TV screen, a purple figure was leading the pack with absolute dominance.
That elegant yet overwhelming stride made every Umamusume in the room wear a grim expression.
"Click."
After the purple-haired girl hit the line, Ryan finally paused the video.
She looked around at the group with a helpless sigh and spread her hands.
"So. Everyone saw it, right?"
"Honestly, even McQueen in the Japan Derby…I don't have any confidence I could beat her, let alone in the Kikuka Sho."
"A 3,000-meter Long-distance race… at this point, we should probably be thinking about how not to get blown out by a huge gap."
"So this is the real long-distance bloodline of the Mejiro family," Taisei muttered, frowning slightly.
"Huh?" Helios blinked, dressed up like a flashy gyaru. "She's that scary?"
"But Ryan and Palmer—you two are Mejiro too, right? Shouldn't you both be monsters at Long-distance?"
As she spoke, Helios looked toward Palmer, the girl with long, waist-length blonde hair.
"Uh…"
Ryan and Palmer exchanged an awkward glance.
Palmer sat properly on the sofa, but her left leg was wrapped in a band of compression tape. It was obvious she'd been injured. She scratched her head, troubled.
"I mean… sure, but…"
"I'm definitely not on McQueen's level. Sometimes I wonder if I'm even related…"
"And…" She rubbed her thigh, her expression dimming. "I can't even run the Kikuka Sho. I fractured something in my last race, and Trainer-san said I need half a year to recover."
Even Mejiro and Mejiro weren't born equal.
At the same age, McQueen and Ryan had already earned labels like "one dominant ace" and "one top powerhouse."
And her?
She was a weak Mejiro who went seven straight losses in her Classic year—someone who struggled to win even an OP race.
Honestly… if she hadn't run into Ryan by chance in class yesterday, she probably wouldn't even have been invited here.
Ryan, straightforward as ever, wasn't thinking about any of that. She leaned in and started analyzing seriously.
"So normal tactics probably won't work…"
On the opposite sofa, Aines raised her hand.
"McQueen's stamina reserves are bottomless. She didn't even sweat after the Derby."
"If we just run the standard way, she'll swallow us one by one at the end."
"Then we mess up her rhythm?" Helios said casually—she'd basically been dragged here last-minute. "If it were me, I'd try a Great Escape."
"Right? Ruby~" Helios scooted closer to Ruby like she was testing her luck.
"..." Ruby gave her a calm look and said nothing.
Ruby was aiming for the Triple Crown, and the Kikuka Sho had nothing to do with her this time—but that didn't mean she couldn't come collect intel on McQueen.
After all, she'd definitely run into her eventually.
And last time, watching Teio's debut race had put a ridiculous amount of pressure on her…
A Classic-year Umamusume getting outpaced by a rookie in her debut was just too absurd.
"You say 'Great Escape' like you ever do anything else…" Taisei shot Helios a look and let out a weary sigh.
And yet—
Right as the group was getting red-faced, arguing at full volume about "how to beat McQueen"—
"Um…"
A cool, elegant voice—tinted with helplessness—floated in from the corner of the room.
In the single-seater sofa tucked away at the edge, McQueen was sitting there with a cup of black tea, staring at everyone with a deadpan expression.
"If this is a 'secret meeting' to figure out how to deal with me…"
"Why did you invite me?"
For the past ten minutes, she'd been in pure discomfort, unable to sit still—like her entire body was itching.
Seeing that, even Helios—supposedly McQueen's "teammate" here—couldn't resist a jab.
"She's got a point… Is this what you call 'plotting loudly right in front of the target'? Ryan, you're unreal."
"Ahaha…" As the organizer, Ryan scratched her head, grinning with that bright, slightly dopey smile.
"Well… if we didn't invite you, wouldn't it look like we were deliberately excluding you?"
"We're all friends!"
"..."
McQueen stared at the bunch of idiots she couldn't bring herself to hate, and in the end, she could only shake her head.
"I swear… you're impossible."
Watching them all huddle back up and resume brainstorming ways to "take her out," McQueen pressed a hand to her forehead in resignation—
but a faint smile quietly tugged at the corner of her lips.
They were a little dumb…
…but as opponents, they weren't bad.
Still, they were too far behind.
McQueen's eyes shifted as she coolly assessed the others—rivals who carried Mejiro blood in their veins.
Other than Ryan, the rest probably couldn't even beat Teio, much less beat her.
So these were the opponents she'd have in Central in the years to come…
McQueen lowered her gaze.
And suddenly, she understood why her Trainer-san had been so strict about forbidding Teio from rushing overseas three weeks later.
"Tenno Sho… back-to-back wins…"
Murmuring the Mejiro family's old vow, McQueen felt a strange fog settle over her heart.
…
Meanwhile, in Tokyo—on Ousaka Promenade.
Weekend afternoon crowds rolled past in waves.
The ginkgo leaves lining both sides of the street had started to yellow. They rustled softly in the autumn wind, and every so often a few golden leaves drifted down, adding a touch of romance to the lively avenue.
Kuroha walked through the crowd, glancing sideways with a helpless look at the girl clinging tightly to his arm.
"I'm just saying… March, is the team really holding me that tightly? It's not like I'm going to run away."
"That's not necessarily true…" Fujimasa March muttered, and instead of loosening her grip, she hugged his arm even tighter.
"Trainer-san, you disappear for a month at a time. Who knows if you'll suddenly fly to the other side of the planet again?"
Today, March wasn't wearing that slightly oversized school uniform anymore.
She'd changed into a well-tailored, long black coat. Under it was an off-white turtleneck sweater, paired with a sleek dark skirt, and silver-white sneakers.
It looked striking—almost dazzling.
And of course, as Central's universally acknowledged "strongest active Umamusume," she was basically a walking spotlight.
The turn-head rate on the street was absurd—like two hundred percent.
Plenty of passersby and fans recognized her and got excited, itching to ask for an autograph—
but they all backed off under March's naturally icy aura.
Because of the overseas expedition, Kuroha had left March at home alone for over a month.
So today, she'd dragged him out—by force—claiming it as "compensation," and turned it into a date.
The funny part was, Ardan had originally come along too, to help buy food.
But March had whispered something to her—quietly, secretly—and somehow got the Mejiro girl to stay home willingly.
The two of them wandered like that with no real destination in mind.
From the bustling shopping district, they gradually drifted into the quieter depths of a park.
Along the way, Fujimasa March looked lively on the surface, tugging Kuroha along to see this and that.
But Kuroha could clearly feel it—her mind was nowhere near the glittering storefronts or the scenery.
She was a little stiff, her gaze constantly flicking away. Every time their eyes met, she'd jerk her head aside like she'd been shocked, the tips of her ears turning faintly red.
"…"
What a dummy.
Kuroha could more or less guess what she was thinking. Amused, he shook his head without calling her out, letting her drag him around as she pleased.
Before they knew it, the sky had dimmed.
The orange-red sunset spilled its last light across the park, stretching their shadows long over the stone path.
"Tired? Let's sit for a bit."
Kuroha pointed to a bench by the lakeside.
"Mm." Fujimasa March nodded and obediently followed him over.
The lake shimmered with ripples of light. Somewhere in the distance came the occasional call of birds returning to their nests. The quiet around them felt… almost deliberately intimate.
Fujimasa March sat on the bench, hands unconsciously twisting the hem of her trench coat. Her long legs pressed together a little too neatly, like she was fighting a fierce battle in her own head.
After a brief silence, she finally spoke in a small voice. "Um, Trainer…"
"Hm? What is it?"
Kuroha turned, looking at her gently.
Fujimasa March lifted her head. In those red eyes was a mix of nerves and hope.
"I mean, um…"
"Before… I mean before training camp…"
"What you said…"
"After I retire…"
Watching the girl who was usually so bold and dashing turn this adorably awkward over a single sentence, the smile in Kuroha's eyes deepened.
He didn't let her struggle any longer. Leaning in slightly, he brought his face close to hers.
The warmth of his breath hit her, and Fujimasa March went rigid in an instant.
"Marriage?"
The soft word landed in her mind like a cannon blast.
Fujimasa March's whole face flared scarlet, the blush spilling down her neck and over her ears until she looked like she was steaming.
"I-I just, um… I-I-I…"
She stammered helplessly for several seconds, then ducked her head and buried her face, giving a tiny, barely-there "Mm."
"How do you feel about it, March?"
Kuroha put aside the teasing and asked seriously.
Hearing him ask outright, Fujimasa March patted her hot cheeks, drew a deep breath, then suddenly looked up—straight into his eyes.
"I'm planning to retire after this month's Mile Championship!"
"…"
Kuroha went silent, a bead of sweat forming at his temple. "…You don't need to rush that much."
Fujimasa March wasn't like Inari One and the others. Even though it had been ten months since her True Blooming period ended, she was still in incredible shape—nothing about her looked like she was nearing the end of her peak.
By any reasonable measure, she could easily keep fighting for at least another half year.
At his words, Fujimasa March tucked a strand of silver hair behind her ear. Her stunning face was set with unwavering resolve.
"I've taken every honor worth taking. Once I win the Mile Championship, I can retire as the Spring-and-Autumn Mile King. I won't have any regrets!"
After a pause, Kuroha, half-joking, prodded her.
"Then what about the Arima Kinen? You lost to Inari One last year. Don't you want it back?"
"I don't!"
The silver-haired girl clearly had her mind made up. Her answer was sharp and certain.
"That one can go to McQueen. She's the future of the next era, and…"
She hesitated—then held Kuroha's gaze without blinking, those deep red eyes steady.
"I have other things I want."
It was obvious. This ash-gray horse girl had already decided.
And what those "other things" were… didn't need to be said.
Kuroha stared at the girl beside him—his very first treasured Uma Musume—for a long moment. Then he let out a quiet, understanding laugh.
"…I see. Got it."
He reached out and gently pinched her heated, rosy cheek.
"Then from here on out, March, just focus on finishing your closing performance."
"I'll handle everything else."
With his answer, Fujimasa March's long horse ears flicked forward and back, and her face bloomed into a radiant smile.
"Mm… mm! I will, Trainer!"
So that was why Ardan hadn't followed them today.
Watching March beam, Kuroha finally pieced together what kind of "agreement" she must have reached with Ardan.
"All right, it's getting late. Let's head back. Unless there's somewhere else you still want to go—"
Kuroha stood up, brushing off his clothes.
Before he could finish, March suddenly reached out and caught the edge of his coat.
Her slender hand lifted, pointing across the street. Her voice was quiet, but unmistakably clear.
"Trainer, I want to go there."
Kuroha followed the direction of her finger.
Neon lights blinked and pulsed. Across the road sat an extravagantly decorated, atmosphere-heavy couples' hotel.
"…"
That night, they disappeared behind that door together.
And in the end, the struggle between Mega Steelix and Mega Florges was fierce enough to last deep into the night, only finally settling in the small hours.
…
Morning.
"Bzzz—bzzz—"
The phone on the bedside table lit up, its soft vibration breaking the silence of the room.
In the center of the king-sized bed, the mound of blankets shifted. Kuroha squinted and poked his head out.
In his arms was the sound of a girl's gentle breathing. The vivid, intimate warmth against him made the last haze in his head clear by degrees.
He blinked up at the unfamiliar ceiling for a moment, until the fragments of last night's reckless memories slowly came rushing back.
He let out a long breath, reached for the phone, and unlocked it.
A message from Symboli Rudolf.
"…Kuroha, the Chairwoman got back from her overseas inspection early this morning. If you're free today, tell me. Let's go to the Chairwoman's office together."
"…"
Kuroha glanced to the upper-right corner of the screen.
8:20 a.m.
"Only slept three hours…"
He set the phone down and exhaled again.
Last night had gone far too late. No matter how you counted it, he'd slept less than three hours.
Normally, three-something hours was enough for him to recover.
But that was under normal circumstances.
Last night's "until-dawn" intensity was not normal by any definition.
He lowered his head slightly, looking at the girl curled against his chest.
Fujimasa March was sleeping soundly, long lashes resting peacefully against her cheeks. The fierce, commanding face she wore on the track was completely unguarded now, her breathing steady and soft.
Maybe she sensed him moving. Or maybe the air felt chilly after the blankets shifted.
March unconsciously wriggled closer, like a lazy cat, nuzzling into his arms in search of a more comfortable position.
With that motion, the thin blanket slipped down a little.
"…" Kuroha felt his body very decisively refuse to behave.
He took a slow breath, wrapped an arm around the precious warmth in his arms, and pulled the blanket back up around her—tucking it in snugly.
"Sleep some more. I'll deal with it at noon."
After deciding, he replied to Symboli Rudolf with a later time, then sank back into sleep again.
(End of Chapter)
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