In the blink of an eye, a week had passed since Kazuomi arrived at Tracen Academy.
Even after seven days, his circumstances remained far from optimistic.
As a trainee, his work consisted almost entirely of performing miscellaneous tasks for the office staff and attending the freshmen’s introductory theory lessons as an observer.
Ms.
Tojo, his assigned supervisor, ignored him completely.
She was absent from the office for most of each day.
Even when she appeared, she carried herself with an icy attitude that clearly warned everyone not to speak to her.
She collected whatever documents she required and left immediately.
She displayed no intention of instructing Kazuomi.
The situation left him completely trapped.
If matters continued this way, the school could simply fail him during some future performance evaluation and dismiss him for lacking the required qualifications.
More importantly, the person holding absolute authority over that evaluation was his supervisor, Hana Tojo.
Kazuomi had imagined many ways in which Ms.
Tojo might deliberately torment him.
What he had never anticipated was that she would possess no time to acknowledge him at all.
He had prepared himself mentally to confront the demon queen.
Instead, he was facing an entirely different problem.
When the evaluation eventually arrived, Kazuomi could hardly accuse Tojo of failing her responsibilities—especially after that old man had granted her complete authority over him.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.”
During the lunch break, Kazuomi lay helplessly upon his bed and released a long sigh.
“What’s wrong?”
Koji lay on the floor with his legs crossed, leisurely flipping through a magazine.
“You’ve looked worried for the last few days.”
“The situation is becoming extremely bad.”
Kazuomi rubbed his forehead and stared blankly toward the side of the bed.
“Encountered a problem, newbie?”
Koji turned another page with a lollipop between his lips.
“You know that Ms.
Tojo is responsible for supervising me.”
Kazuomi waved one arm listlessly, as though attempting to scatter his worries.
“Yeah.
You mentioned it.”
“I’ve been thinking…”
Kazuomi hesitated.
“If you had been assigned to supervise me, perhaps I wouldn’t be this worried.”
“Oh?”
Koji finally lowered the magazine and looked toward him.
“That sounds interesting.
What happened?
Did Hana do something to you?”
“After becoming my supervisor, Ms.
Tojo has barely acknowledged me.”
“She was strict at first, but only because you and I had done something wrong.”
“Now she simply ignores me.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“She’s my supervisor, but she isn’t fulfilling that responsibility at all.”
“To be honest, I’m at a complete loss.”
Kazuomi had struggled to obtain this opportunity.
He did not want it to slip from his hands without accomplishing anything.
He had made a promise to his sister.
“I see.”
Koji considered the situation.
“She’s behaved like that for the entire week?”
This can’t continue.”
“Hmm.”
A faint smile appeared on Koji’s face.
“So it can’t continue.”
He paused.
“Then let me ask you something.”
“What have you done during this past week?”
Kazuomi blinked in surprise.
Still, he answered honestly.
“I’ve followed the freshmen around and listened to their classes.”
“But most of the time, the senior staff have been ordering me around.”
“I deliver documents, run errands, make tea, and carry water.”
“I see.”
Koji nodded as though he understood.
“No wonder you think I would have been a better supervisor.”
“Exactly.”
Kazuomi sighed.
“You may look unreliable, but at least you wouldn’t completely ignore me the way Ms.
Tojo does.”
Koji watched the dejected boy from the corner of his eye, then returned his attention to the magazine.
“Although I’m currently on paid leave, let’s imagine that I were your supervisor.”
“I probably would guide you constantly and help whenever you encountered trouble.”
“Right?
That’s exactly what I mean.”
“However—”
Koji interrupted him.
“I don’t think that would necessarily be good for you.”
Kazuomi froze.
“What?”
The answer was not what he had expected.
He looked at Koji, who had already returned his attention to the magazine.
“This may sound strange coming from me, but tell me something, Kazuomi.”
“Does someone need to teach you every part of your life?”
“Do you believe everything you will ever face must first be taught to you in a classroom?”
“What do you mean?”
“When you enter society, you won’t find that school has prepared you for everything.”
“I don’t know why you abandoned higher education, but I assume you thought carefully before choosing this road.”
“Yes.”
“Reality is harsh.”
Koji’s voice remained calm.
“You were fortunate enough to receive an opportunity to enter this academy.”
“But you need to understand the difference between your situation and everyone else’s.”
“You are here to learn.”
“They are here to work.”
“Waiting for Hana to teach you everything is completely unrealistic.”
“That is especially true for someone like her.
She would spend every waking hour working as a trainer if she could.”
“It is natural for you to feel lost.”
“However, rather than waiting for someone else to change, perhaps you should first attempt to find your own solution.”
Koji slowly lowered the magazine.
For once, his expression became serious.
“It’s true that you never received systematic professional education.”
“Compared with trainers who studied the relevant theories in formal programs, you began with an enormous disadvantage.”
“You currently possess advantages that many novice trainers could never obtain.”
“What advantages?”
“Have you considered this?”
Koji continued.
“Even students receiving systematic instruction at an academy usually learn through textbooks, recorded lessons, and video footage.”
“They rarely receive opportunities to observe actual Uma Musume closely in the field.”
A new light gradually entered Kazuomi’s eyes.
It was as though Koji’s words had opened a path through the fog surrounding him.
“Yes, it’s customary for juniors to assist their seniors.”
“But in the end, aren’t they asking for your help because you appear to have nothing else to do?”
“If you began acting according to a plan of your own, I suspect you would possess an extraordinary amount of free time.”
“You don’t have the academic pressure of the Uma Musume or the workload carried by the senior trainers.”
“If you genuinely wanted to study independently, you should have no difficulty finding the time.”
“Besides, the academy has an enormous library.”
Koji gestured vaguely toward the campus.
“As far as I know, its archives contain race analyses from numerous major competitions and reports written by many different trainers.”
“If you use those materials properly, they may prove considerably more valuable than ordinary professional textbooks.”
“Hana may seem difficult to approach.”
“Still, if you demonstrate genuine determination and perseverance, I doubt she will continue ignoring you forever.”
“Or you could pass the professional certification examination through your own ability.”
“Show her that she underestimated you.”
“Koji…”
Kazuomi was deeply moved.
Koji had genuinely considered the problem from multiple angles.
He had begun by reprimanding Kazuomi, yet ultimately showed him a direction forward.
He was right.
Koji understood the situation more clearly than Kazuomi himself.
Although he was ordinarily unserious, lecherous, and constantly making crude remarks—
At critical moments, Koji truly was a reliable senior.
“Ah, I’m only talking nonsense.”
Koji’s expression changed instantly.
He lifted the magazine and twisted around on the floor like a worm.
“Still, these Uma Musume have fantastic legs.”
“I really want to touch them.”
Kazuomi stared at him expressionlessly.
“Forget it.”
Taking this man seriously was clearly an act of self-inflicted suffering.
Kazuomi climbed from the bed and began organizing the items on his desk.
His notebook.
Lecture notes.
Reports.
Bag.
Water bottle.
He packed everything away.
“What are you doing now?”
“I’m going to the library to study.”
Kazuomi slung the bag over his shoulder and walked directly from the room.
Koji remained alone upon the floor, reading his magazine.
After some time, he muttered:
“I was merely talking to myself.”
“That doesn’t count as giving him advice or helping him.”