“Crossing the line!
First place goes to Tamamo Cross, edging out Oguri Cap by a quarter length!”
The support staff member acting as a makeshift commentator shouted, and the Umamusume in the stands erupted in cheers.
“As expected of Japan’s strongest Umamusume.
Tamamo Cross won without breaking a sweat.”
“Pfft, it was just a mock race.
Oguri Cap didn’t even try.”
“Tch.
Who lost to Tamamo Cross at the Autumn Tenno Sho again?
It sure wasn’t Oguri Cap.”
Fans of both Oguri Cap and Tamamo Cross in the stands immediately started bickering to defend their idols, while the military instructor rubbed his temples, trying to calm them down.
Not a single person cared about Urara’s loss.
Or rather, everyone knew she’d lose; they were just guessing by how many lengths.
But compared to the heated debate over who was stronger, that tiny bit of attention wasn’t worth anything.
People only had eyes for the powerful Umamusume.
Those two, the front-runners for the Arima Kinen, were undeniably the biggest stars right now.
As for Urara…
Heh.
Just another stray on the sidelines.
Teio watched the race end, the noisy arguments ringing in her ears.
Her gaze immediately shifted to Nakajima Shin.
Seeing his fiery eyes fixed on Tamamo Cross, a brilliant smile on his face, a sour bitterness welled up in her chest.
One hand clenched into a painful fist, knuckles cracking.
The other drifted to her thigh, as if she could feel the fragile bones beneath her soft skin through the fabric.
If only I hadn’t broken my legs.
I’d still be the majestic Tokai Teio.
The Umamusume with the highest chance of achieving an undefeated Triple Crown and seven G1 wins.
My trainer’s eyes wouldn’t keep darting between Oguri Cap and Tamamo Cross.
But I did.
Not once, not twice.
Four times.
Looking at the whole world, the only one who broke their legs that many times and still won was White Lily, who pulled off a miracle by winning a G1 late in her career.
But her legs were still way better than mine.
She didn’t break them three times in half a year.
Can I create a miracle?
Probably not.
Teio gave a bitter smile.
She wrapped her arms around herself as if afraid of the cold, her body trembling slightly.
An Umamusume who had long given up on running, on the glory of competition.
If she hadn’t met her trainer, she never would’ve rediscovered her desire to run.
She wouldn’t have clung to the thought, “Maybe even this broken body can shine one last time,” willing to run her legs to the bone just to win her debut race for him.
To prove his efforts weren’t wasted.
Winning major races?
That was just an unrealistic fantasy.
All I really wanted was to win that debut race.
To burn everything I had, become the most special person in my trainer’s heart, become his idol.
After that, nothing else would matter.
I could retire peacefully, let him find a better trainee, and stop wasting his three years on me.
That should’ve been enough.
So why does it feel so unsatisfying now?
The President, my friends, Oguri Cap, Trainer Musaka, Tamamo Cross…
I don’t want my trainer, the only one who treats me like a normal person, to drift away.
I want to stay by his side as long as possible.
I want his eyes to only look at me, not at anyone else.
I want him to keep thinking of me.
But it’s so hard.
I can’t do anything.
Heart aching, Teio shivered all over, her trembling growing more frequent.
But no one noticed her.
She sat alone in the back row, surrounded by noisy chatter, yet not a single voice was for her.
Just as Teio looked up at the sun, praying to the Three Goddesses for help, her vision suddenly went dark.
It felt like a sack was thrown over her head.
Soft fabric wrapped around her body, darkness swallowing her, except for a sliver of warm sunlight filtering through from above.
Then the fabric near her nose began to shift downward.
Sunlight streamed from her hair to her forehead, washed over her eyes.
The bright glare made Teio blink, and she closed her eyes.
Only when the light against her eyelids softened from that intense orange-red did she open them.
Where the sun had been, Nakajima Shin’s sharp, handsome features now filled her view.
“Why are you shaking so much?
Do you have a fever?” Shin asked, his voice laced with concern.
He brushed back her bangs, bent down, and pressed his forehead against hers.
Feeling no heat, he frowned.
“You’re not running a fever.
Did you get chilled by the wind?”
“…”
Teio stared blankly at her trainer, so close.
His dark brown eyes shone like starlight, bright and clear.
Not blinding like the sun, nor cold enough to make her shiver like the moon.
He was right there.
His warm breath stirred the fine hairs on her face, flushing her pale skin.
Her heart pounded wildly.
Seeing Teio say nothing, her face turning a tipsy red like she’d had a drink, Shin finally realized he might’ve gotten too close.
He quickly took a step back, his own face flushing awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand.
Damn.
I brought my past-life habits over to the Umamusume.
Back when he was with horses, he always liked rubbing their heads.
If he suspected one was sick, he’d press his forehead against theirs.
Not just to check for fever, but because if they were actually sick, feeling his body warmth would perk them up.
Their listless bodies would gain energy, and their restless moods would calm down.
After chatting with the veterans earlier, he’d walked over and seen Teio shivering from the cold.
He quickly threw the jacket she’d borrowed yesterday over her shoulders.
Then, influenced by her horse ears, his brain had automatically made him lean in to check her condition.
He completely forgot that this kind of closeness between a guy and a girl might not be appropriate.
He was just her trainer.
Not some other role that allowed for intimate contact.
Shin rubbed his neck awkwardly, muttering to himself, “Teio probably won’t mind me getting this close, right?
I was just worried about her health and leaned in instinctively.
Next time, I’ll definitely remember to use the back of my hand to check her temperature.”
After muttering for a bit, he saw her face was still red, staring at him without a word.
He figured she must’ve short-circuited from his sudden intimate move and didn’t know how to react.
Shin immediately pressed his palms together, offering an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, Teio.
I didn’t mean to do that.
I just saw you shaking so hard and leaned in without thinking.”
“N-no, it’s fine.” Teio quickly shook her head, then carefully tested the waters.
“Um, Trainer…
could you do it again?”
Shin froze, tilting his head with a confused, “Huh?”