Poor Guy Never Stood a Chance (2/2) 17: Chapter Eleven: Marked on Day One?
Poor Guy Never Stood a Chance (2/2) Mihono Bourbon lowered her face toward Kitano’s bowl of miso soup.
Her soft, sakura-colored lips puckered ever so slightly.
Then she blew on it.
A cool breath brushed across the steaming surface, scattering the heat rising from the soup.
And she did not stop there.
With absolute patience, Bourbon repeated the same motion again and again, carefully cooling the bowl as if performing a delicate maintenance procedure.
“Hiss…” Somewhere in the cafeteria, someone sucked in a sharp breath.
In the next instant, every gaze in the room snapped toward the culprit.
Kitano Ryuichi.
The man who had somehow gotten a beautiful Uma Musume to personally cool his soup for him.
There were not many people in the cafeteria right now.
It was technically lunch break, and Tracen Academy’s cafeteria served food around the clock, but this was still an odd hour.
Only a few Uma Musume sat here and there in small groups.
A couple of teams had just finished training and were eating with their trainers.
Unfortunately, because the cafeteria was so quiet, every little movement from Kitano and Bourbon stood out like a stage performance.
Several trainers looked at Kitano with a mixture of envy and pity.
Envy, because this slightly handsome newcomer had a gorgeous Uma Musume doting on him.
Pity, because every experienced Tracen trainer in the room could already see where this was going.
That was not the kind of thing an ordinary trainee did for her trainer.
That was the behavior of an assigned Uma Musume whose affection meter had already hit max.
In other words, this guy had been marked.
His future had probably been quietly scheduled without him even realizing it.
Uma Musume were sincere creatures.
That was common sense in this world.
And Tracen Academy was a mostly closed environment filled with exceptional trainers and equally exceptional Uma Musume.
Naturally, talented people were drawn to talented people.
Spend enough time together, and many relationships that started out pure and earnest had a funny way of… evolving.
Most veteran trainers understood that all too well.
At first, they treated their assigned Uma Musume like precious students.
They cheered them on, supported them, spoiled them a little, and watched them grow.
Then one day, without noticing when the line had been crossed, they found themselves standing at the entrance to the abyss.
And everyone knew the cruel truth.
A human body was no match for an Uma Musume’s.
Even an average Uma Musume had around three times the physical ability of a normal adult.
If one of them truly decided to do something, no ordinary person could resist her.
Every year, Tracen Academy had a handful of “missing trainer” incidents.
Most of them turned up later in clubrooms, empty classrooms, or some forgotten corner of an old school building.
Others were found at an Uma Musume’s house.
And in the worst cases, inside the Uma Musume dorms.
That last one was especially bad.
The dorm rooms were shared by two students.
Which meant if a trainer was discovered there, there were two culprits.
The recovered trainers were usually… worn out beyond recognition.
And it was not as if they had been hated by their assigned Uma Musume.
Quite the opposite.
Before getting knocked out and dragged away, most of them had been model partners with deep bonds and excellent trust.
The problem came later.
Unanswered love.
Unspoken feelings piling up day after day.
Then, at some point, boom.
The dam broke.
That was why Tracen trainers walked a razor’s edge with their assigned Uma Musume.
They could not be too distant, or it would affect the girl’s mood and performance.
But they also could not be too affectionate, or their personal safety and dignity would be in danger.
And for trainers who failed to notice until they were already wrapped in obvious, undisguisable affection?
Well.
Good luck.
Their odds were not great.
Accept her confession: same-day horseplay.
Pelvis destroyed.
Reject her confession: same-day ambush.
Confinement.
Forced same-day horseplay.
Pelvis destroyed.
For a trainer in crisis, those seemed to be the only two available routes.
So they were careful.
Extremely careful.
Their fragile pelvises depended on it.
There were still several seniors lying in the hospital, after all.
Nobody had forgotten.
And now, watching the way Mihono Bourbon treated Kitano, the trainers quietly mourned for him.
Poor kid.
He had no idea what was waiting for him.
Hopefully, he had already reserved a hospital bed.
Meanwhile, several Uma Musume in the cafeteria watched Bourbon’s example with sparkling eyes.
Then, one after another, they picked up the miso soup or drinks from their own trainers’ trays and started blowing on them too.
Their excuses were all suspiciously identical.
“Ah, Trainer-san, your miso soup is too hot!
I’ll cool it down for you!” “This drink is way too warm.
It’d be awful if you burned yourself, Trainer!” The trainers stared at them in weary silence.
One girl was blowing on a drink with ice cubes in it.
What exactly was she worried about?
That he would swallow the ice whole?
That the carbonation would destroy his intestines?
Back at Kitano’s table, Bourbon finally seemed satisfied after blowing on the soup for a while.
Kitano, his face stiff with embarrassment, thought she was finally going to return the bowl.
Instead, Bourbon picked up the spoon she had been using for her omurice, dipped it into the miso soup, and stirred it with meticulous care.
Then she scooped up a small spoonful and brought it to Kitano’s mouth.
“Please check the temperature, Kitano-san.” Her eyes shone with solemn purpose.
Her expression did not change in the slightest.
Then, with perfect seriousness, Mihono Bourbon said, “Please open your mouth.
Aah.”