Coming out of the yakiniku restaurant, the afternoon sun was just right.
Having dealt with an almost terrifying amount of food, Oguri Cap, with a look of utter satisfaction on her face, followed Kitano as they aimlessly strolled through the shopping district to digest.
They hadn’t walked far when Kitano noticed the footsteps beside him stop.
He looked back and saw Oguri Cap squatting by a decorative flowerbed on the roadside.
Her blue eyes were unblinkingly fixed on the lush ornamental grass in the flowerbed, her gaze filled with pure curiosity, and even… a hint of inquiry?
Just as Kitano thought she was observing some small insect, he saw her reach out, carefully pluck the tip of a small blade of grass, sniff it under her nose, and then—under Kitano’s dumbfounded gaze—put it straight into her mouth, chewing gently a couple of times, as if savoring a novel texture.
“Hey!
Cap!” Kitano quickly stepped forward, pulling her up with a wry smile.
“What are you doing?
Those are ornamental plants, you can’t eat them!
And they might have been sprayed with pesticides!”
Oguri Cap was pulled up, showing no sign of realizing she had done anything wrong.
Instead, with a tone of sharing a discovery, she calmly pointed at the flowerbed and said, “Kitano-kun, this grass tastes a bit astringent, and the fibers are very coarse.
It’s not as sweet as the kind from Kasamatsu.”
Kitano: “…”
He sighed, rubbing his forehead, and complained helplessly, “I’m telling you… you’re a highly watched Uma Musume now, can’t you pay attention to your image?
Also, who taught you this habit of wanting to taste every green plant you see?
You’re just like a free-range goat!”
“Goat?” Oguri Cap tilted her head, seemingly genuinely pondering the comparison, then seriously replied, “Goats only eat grass; I eat everything.
And, I was just tasting it.”
Her matter-of-fact demeanor choked all the lectures Kitano had prepared in his throat.
“Forget it, I’d be a fool to argue with her about this,” Kitano waved his hand as if giving up on treatment.
Oguri Cap’s steps immediately froze, her eyes fixed on the golden, crispy pastry.
Kitano looked at her, completely captivated in an instant, and said helplessly, “…Didn’t you just finish eating yakiniku?”
Oguri Cap turned her head, her eyes pure.
“Yes.
But that was savory, and this is sweet.” The logic was clear and irrefutable.
Three minutes later, she contentedly held several warm taiyaki, eating them in small, quick bites.
Kitano watched Oguri Cap, her cheeks puffed out like a squirrel hoarding food, and inwardly grumbled, “What happened to digesting?
This is practically opening a second battlefield!”
To prevent her from continuing her mad dash down the path of tasting all herbs and opening new battlefields, Kitano quickly suggested, “Let’s go, I’ll take you to the arcade for a bit.”
At the arcade, Oguri Cap showed little interest in fighting games or shooting games that required complex controls, but she stopped in front of a claw machine filled with various plush toys.
The machine wasn’t filled with ordinary plush toys, but a series of cute food-shaped dolls—a plump rice ball, a fried shrimp with an open mouth, and a hamburger patty with a goofy expression.
She inserted a coin and operated the joystick, her gaze as focused as if she were facing a formal race.
Unfortunately, her precision seemed to only apply to running and eating; the claw always loosened at the critical moment.
After failing five or six times, she wasn’t discouraged, but calmly turned to Kitano.
“Kitano-kun, you try it.”
Kitano took over the controls.
With a bit of feel and luck, on his third attempt, he successfully grabbed the chubby rice ball plushie.
Oguri Cap, who had been holding her breath and staring intently at the inside of the machine, saw the plushie successfully drop and her eyes immediately lit up.
She slightly opened her mouth and let out a short, clear sound:
“Wow.”
She nodded, looking at Kitano, her eyes gleaming with undisguised admiration, then very seriously and emphatically gave him a thumbs-up.
Although she didn’t speak, her gaze and gesture clearly said: Kitano-kun, amazing!
Kitano looked at her, expressing appreciation so unreservedly for once, and felt a little like laughing, yet also a little pleased.
“Thank you,” she said softly, then cradled the rice ball plushie securely in her arms, not letting go, as if holding some precious emergency rations.
Next, they tried Taiko no Tatsujin.
Oguri Cap’s sense of rhythm was surprisingly good, but her strength control was poor; one hit almost punched through the drum surface, drawing side glances from nearby players.
Kitano quickly pulled her away, fearing she would truly break it if she continued playing.
Just as Kitano was about to insert coins to try other games, a claw machine in the distance suddenly erupted with a loud commotion—a vibrant Kansai dialect and a slightly helpless female voice could be heard.
Kitano subconsciously glanced toward the source of the noise.
He saw a petite, white-haired Uma Musume excitedly gesticulating at the claw machine, while the green-haired female Trainer behind her wore a helpless “here we go again” expression, trying to calm her down.
“Another Uma Musume and Trainer…” The thought flashed through Kitano’s mind.
For residents near Tracen Academy, this sight was not uncommon.
He quickly retracted his gaze, not interested in it, and his attention returned to the machine in front of him and Oguri Cap.
Leaving the claw machine area, the two tried other activities in the arcade.
They played rhythm-based music games, with Kitano strictly controlling Oguri Cap’s hitting force, and experienced the skill-based coin pusher machines.
They even tried a photo booth—although Oguri Cap still maintained her calm expression in front of the camera, only clutching her rice ball plushie tightly in her arms.
However, no matter where they went, Oguri Cap’s radar could always accurately pinpoint any place selling food.
Passing a yakisoba stall, she stopped; seeing a crepe cart, she peered; the sign for an ice cream shop made her unable to tear her eyes away.
“Cap, didn’t we just finish eating yakiniku?” Kitano looked at the additional snack bags in his hand, and even more snack bags, and couldn’t help but ask the soul-searching question for the Nth time.
Oguri Cap was taking small bites of a giant rainbow swirl ice cream.
Hearing the question, she looked up, a little cream still on the corner of her mouth, and answered with pure eyes: “Yes.
But this is sweet, and sweet goes to a different stomach than savory.”
Kitano: “…”
He sighed, rubbing his forehead, and internally complained furiously: “A different stomach?!
Is this some kind of Uma Musume-exclusive physiological structure?!
What happened to the digestion walk?!”
It really helps the fic grow!