13: Chapter 12 Little Girl, Take Care!
13: Chapter 12 Little Girl, Take Care!
Entering the University of Tokyo, Keiko surprisingly didn’t feel the suffocating pressure she had expected from her dream school.
Aside from the massive name at the gate, the place looked just like any other campus.
In her past life, she had considered studying abroad, but had given up due to the financial burden.
Back then, her TOEFL and Japanese scores were pretty good.
Although they weren’t at her current level—which felt like having a built-in translator cheat—she had a decent shot at getting into Todai.
But that was only if she applied as an international student.
The difficulty for international students and local Japanese students was completely different.
When she chose the art academy, she never expected to end up in a situation like this.
Of course, she was far away from the Earth she knew, but some things seemed to have carried over to this world.
Staring at the famous red gate, she took a deep breath.
She didn’t know if she was on the right path.
She was just moving forward according to her own goals.
Since this was her second life, if only for the sake of the original Tojo Keiko—the poor girl whose body she had taken over—she had to find happiness.
She had worked herself to exhaustion just for this.
“Are you nervous?” Maruzensky asked.
She felt the girl was far too quiet.
Although she occasionally looked at the campus sights with curiosity, she rarely spoke.
So Maruzensky broke the silence.
“No…” Keiko shook her head.
“I’m just a bit curious about this place.” “Actually, Tracen Academy is pretty nice too.
You can see cherry blossom trees right as you walk in.
During the blooming season, the entire academy is filled with drifting pink petals.
It’s like being submerged in a sea of pink.
Once you see it, you’ll never forget it.” Maruzensky smiled.
“Rudolf told me you have talent for racing.
So why did you choose the University of Tokyo?
I don’t think you made this choice on a whim, did you?” “Talent for racing…” She fell silent for a moment.
“How many Umamusume enter Tracen Academy every year?” “Well, I haven’t looked at the exact numbers.
But it should be at least in the hundreds…
and even more if you count the regional branches.” Maruzensky replied.
Her answer didn’t surprise Keiko; she had calculated as much.
“And out of those, how many actually become famous?” Keiko asked.
“I don’t hate racing.
But if you do the math, achieving results that lead to self-fulfillment, let alone securing a stable life after retirement, is incredibly difficult for an average Umamusume.
They say as long as you win a GII race, you won’t have to worry about putting food on the table, but since GII races are already highly competitive graded events, very few Umamusume can actually reach that level.” “Hmm…
I never thought about it like that.
For most Umamusume, racing might not be about practical matters.
To them, it’s just a step toward achieving their dreams.” Maruzensky replied, but Keiko had already considered this argument.
“Yes, for most Umamusume, even if they never become famous, their time racing will be a precious memory.
But what about their lives after retirement?
They either marry their trainers or marry average salarymen to become full-time housewives, using their racing memories to get through the rest of their lives.
On top of that, there’s the physical toll of racing.
Setting aside those who get injured during races, even the lucky ones rarely retire without any chronic health issues.” Keiko saw it clearly.
The path of an Umamusume might indeed be one of dreams.
But there were countless runners who failed miserably or were forced to retire early.
Even those who completed their careers usually left the track with chronic injuries.
Chasing dreams was a fine goal, but Keiko had already chased her dream in her past life.
She had failed too hard, and she had lost the luxury to dream.
Beneath her young shell lay the soul of an exhausted corporate slave.
The only useful things she carried from her past life were her willpower and the knowledge she had crammed during her final year of high school.
So she chose to change her life through exams, rather than gambling on a path she knew nothing about, which might only end in injury.
“It’s not that I don’t have dreams.
I just can’t bear their weight.
Maruzensky-senpai, do you understand?” Keiko stopped walking, following Maruzensky’s lead.
Maruzensky couldn’t read the emotion in the girl’s eyes, but she had never seen such quiet calm in an Umamusume of her age.
It was as if her eyes belonged to an adult forced to mature after being beaten down by life, rather than a teenager.
“…Then all I can do is wish you luck, Tojo Keiko.” Maruzensky found herself unable to counter the girl’s argument.
Simple talk of “dreams” was no longer enough to sway her.
She could only offer her blessings.
Although the girl lacked grand dreams, she possessed a fragile quality that made people want to protect her.
Those eyes would probably stay in Maruzensky’s memory for a long time.
“Thank you, Maruzensky-senpai.” Keiko bowed and turned to enter the building.
Following Maruzensky’s directions, she walked straight into a quiet office.
A robust, white-haired old man sat at a desk, playing with a tobacco pipe.
He offered a gentle smile as Keiko opened the door.
“Rudolf told me about your situation.
It’s quite rare for an Umamusume to choose the Todai path.” The professor’s words made Keiko slightly anxious, but he quickly changed his tone.
“Still, I think the University of Tokyo could use some fresh blood.
An Umamusume is a great choice.
I like it.” “Hello, Professor.” Keiko nodded.
“I’m here for the early entrance exam.
May I ask where the test paper is?” “No rush, the test is right here on my desk.
Don’t worry, even though I have high expectations, I’ll reject you without hesitation if you don’t meet my standards, regardless of Rudolf’s recommendation.” The professor chuckled.
“But my requirements include an interview alongside the written exam.
And for me, the interview score is very important.
Still, no need to be nervous.
I’ll ask you a few questions once you finish writing.” “I understand.
How much time do I have?” Keiko nodded.
A combination of a written test and an interview, and apparently only one paper—every single point would count.
The pressure was no less than a normal exam.
“I’ll give you forty minutes.
The exam isn’t long, so that should be enough.” The professor checked his watch, casually deciding the time limit.
Keiko nodded.
A small desk and chair had been prepared for her.
Once the professor placed the exam in front of her, she quickly picked it up and scanned the questions.
‘No familiar patterns.
Did he write this himself?’ She figured that since he was a Todai professor, it was normal for him to draft his own questions.
She had looked up past Todai literature entrance exams, but it seemed the professor had no intention of following the usual formula.
She took a deep breath, cooling her nerves.
This was her first step toward happiness.
If she showed fear now, she wouldn’t even get decent points for her attitude.
After scanning all the questions, she decided on the order of answering and began writing.
She skipped the harder questions for later, focusing on the ones she was confident in first.
After a quick double-check, she used the remaining time to tackle the difficult problems.
Though it was a common exam strategy, it worked wonders.
She wrote quickly at first, slowing down toward the end.
But even as her pace dropped, she managed to finish every question.
She put down her pen, double-checked the paper one last time, and handed it to the professor.
“You still have five minutes left.
You could double-check again.” The professor suggested with a smile.
“The questions were quite tricky, weren’t they?
I figured you’d check past papers, so I custom-made this to throw you off.
I know it was tough, but if you want to jump straight to Todai, it’s only fair that we raise the bar.” “It’s fine.
I’ve already checked it four times.
If I still made a mistake, then there’s nothing I can do.” Keiko replied calmly.
“I don’t like gambling, but I also hate half-hearted attempts.
So, this is my absolute best.
Thank you, Professor.” “For a middle schooler, you have an exceptionally mature attitude.
I feel like I’m talking to someone in their twenties.” The professor smiled as he took the exam.
Instead of grading it immediately, he sat back down and looked straight at Keiko.
“Are you ready to start the interview?” “…Haven’t you been interviewing me since the moment I stepped into this room?” She smiled wryly.
“Most of my interview score has probably been decided already, hasn’t it?” “Haha, I figured you would notice.” The professor dropped his act.
“I like you.
Are there really many girls like you nowadays?
You’re just a middle schooler, yet you carry yourself like a young adult who has been in the workforce for years.” “I’m probably an exception.
After all, I only have myself to rely on.” She replied seriously.
“You must have seen my file, Professor.” “Indeed.
But I won’t give you extra points just because of your tragic background.
You aren’t the only unfortunate person in the world, and I’m not easily moved by past sob stories.” The professor said with a smile.
“Now, let’s get down to business.
First question: Why did you choose the University of Tokyo?” “I think that question is a bit odd.
The University of Tokyo is the best university in the country.
My reason for aiming for Todai is very simple—just because it has the best resources.” Keiko didn’t bother with diplomatic answers.
She had decided from the start to tell the absolute truth, except for things regarding her transmigration.
“Of course, I could praise the university’s excellence, but I don’t think a place like Todai needs flattery from me.” “Hmm—indeed.
Next question.” The professor nodded, amused.
“Why did you choose to give up on Central Tracen Academy?” “Because I don’t have much confidence in my racing skills.
I feel pursuing academics at Todai fits me much better.” Keiko shrugged.
“Of course, if I fail here, I’ll have to join Tracen Academy as agreed in my bet.” “So you’re content to let a bet decide your future?” The professor’s expression grew serious.
“What is your answer to that?” “Of course not…
Even at Tracen, I’ll keep studying and trying for the Todai exams.” She shook her head.
“There’s no rule saying you can’t study hard at Tracen, right?
If I fail once, I can try a second time.
If the second time still doesn’t work, maybe I’ll go for Waseda—though, their tuition is way more expensive…” “Well, I think I have a good grasp of who you are now.” The professor nodded thoughtfully.
“I have one last question.
If the University of Tokyo needs you to participate in some promotional activities for the school, would you agree to help?” “…?” Keiko was taken aback.
She couldn’t tell if there was some hidden catch in the question.
School promotion?
What did that have to do with her?
But she didn’t overthink it.
“If the university requires it, I will do my best to cooperate as a student.” “That’s good.
You can head back for now.
In a few days, I will notify you of the results by email.” The professor smiled.
For some reason, a shiver ran down Keiko’s spine.
It felt like she was being watched.
The feeling of being plotted against made the professor’s smile look as terrifying as an owl.
“…Okay, I’ll be leaving now.” Keiko respectfully left the office.
She was still confused by the last question.
If she could actually get into Todai, participating in a few promotional events wasn’t a big deal, right?
Was that really something he needed to ask separately?
Unable to figure it out, she shook her head and walked out of the building.
Meanwhile, back in the office, the professor pulled a voice recorder from under his desk.
His smile was so wide all the wrinkles on his face bunched up, looking just like an old fox.
“She’s indeed quite mature, and her academic level is good…
but she lacks a bit of street smarts.
So young.”