After carefully putting away the treasures he had acquired and the gifts he had prepared for others, the calm expression Kitano usually wore to deal with the outside world finally completely relaxed.
He walked with practiced ease to the corner of the balcony, where his faith was enshrined—a set of meticulously maintained fishing gear.
“Alright, the best way to get rid of Uma Musume worries—sit by the water, and all worries are gone!”
Humming an off-key tune, he skillfully checked his old pals: a flexible fishing rod was his main weapon, a multi-layered tackle box filled with live bait, lures, fishing lines, and small accessories was his treasure chest, and an old baseball cap was essential for sun protection.
His actions carried a sense of sacred ritual, as if he wasn’t preparing for entertainment, but rather for a holy expedition.
“Enough bait, enough groundbait.
Surely I won’t get skunked again today, right?” he muttered to himself, his tone filled with the eternal optimism characteristic of a fisherman.
Riding his bicycle through the increasingly bustling streets, he arrived at a relatively secluded stretch of river on the city’s edge, where the water quality was still decent.
This was a tacitly understood old haunt for him and his fishing buddies.
Sure enough, he saw three figures already there from a distance, a scene like a frozen landscape.
“Oh!
Kitano, over here!
We were waiting for you!” Fukuda Daiki was the first to wave, his voice so loud it could scare away fish within a ten-meter radius.
Trainer Kiryuin Yuu turned his head, a much softer smile than usual on his face, and nodded in greeting.
Okabe Yuta, however, was completely absorbed in his own world, his eyes fixed on the bobber on the water’s surface.
He merely raised a hand in acknowledgment, as if any extra movement might disturb the giant possibly lurking beneath the water.
Kitano walked over with a smile and found his usual spot beside them.
He set up his folding stool, propped up his fishing rod, mixed the bait, and scattered the groundbait—a series of fluid movements, full of the ease of a seasoned angler.
“How’s the bite today?” he asked, as he lightly cast his hook, adorned with fresh bait, into the water.
“Don’t even ask,” Fukuda Daiki immediately began his live report.
“Yuta-senpai seemed to have snagged something just now.
When he reeled it in, guess what?
A broken plastic bag!
Kiryuin-san, though, is steady; he’s already caught a few tiny crucian carp.”
Kiryuin Yuu smiled somewhat awkwardly.
“Luck, pure luck.
Haven’t seen any big ones yet.”
Okabe Yuta then pushed up his glasses, correcting him with a serious expression.
“It wasn’t a snag, it was a bite!
Definitely a big one, that force…
What a shame, it won’t get away next time!” His tone was filled with the classic fish tale of a fisherman.
The topics ranged from whether the new bait, rumored to have a mysterious attractant factor, was just a scam, to why the school cafeteria always served green peppers lately, and then to which recent blockbuster was purely a popcorn movie.
The air was filled with the unique scent of river water, earth, and bait—a tranquility that was uniquely theirs.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled light, and the river water rippled under the gentle breeze.
Kitano felt the subtle sensations transmitted through his fishing rod, anticipating that clear tug, while listening to the rambling chatter of his friends.
The sense of detachment and pressure he felt from the Uma Musume world was completely washed away at this moment, leaving only pure peace and anticipation.
“Rod in hand, the world is mine!
This is what life is all about,” he thought.
“My own stretch of water, a rod, a group of friends…
If life could continue like this, I’d ask for nothing else.”
Of course, as an experienced fisherman, another voice deep inside him was quietly muttering:
“But according to the universal law that fishermen catch everything but fish, will I get skunked again today?”
Time quietly slipped away with the subtle tremors of the bobber and the ripples on the water.
The sun grew increasingly intense, but the four on the bank seemed to have entered a state of self-forgetfulness.
“I say, are we really going to get skunked today?” Fukuda Daiki was the first to lose his patience, reeling in his rod and pacing back and forth on the bank.
“Did all the fish go to an Uma Musume fan meeting?”
Kiryuin Yuu, who had been silent, suddenly said softly, “Perhaps the joy of fishing isn’t in the outcome.”
He looked at the shimmering water, his gaze distant.
“Just like training an Uma Musume, what’s important isn’t whether you can win today, but…”
“Stop, stop, stop!” Okabe Yuta abruptly interrupted, “Kiryuin-san, no talking about work by the water!
That’s the rule!”
Kitano chuckled at his words.
Just then, an unusual heaviness suddenly came from the fishing rod in his hand.
Everyone’s gaze instantly focused on him.
“Here it comes!” Kitano whispered, quickly lifting the rod.
The rod tip instantly bent into a breathtaking arc.
Under everyone’s expectant gaze, Kitano slowly reeled in the line.
However, the big fish’s struggle was very strange—it neither darted left and right nor plunged downward, but rather pulled upward in jerks.
When the trophy finally surfaced, all four of them were stunned—it was a large, rusty tin bucket, with deep green algae clinging to its sides.
“Congratulations, Kitano!” Fukuda Daiki was the first to react, applauding solemnly.
“You’ve successfully caught the Most Promising Container Award of this year’s River Cup!”
Okabe Yuta pushed up his glasses, analyzing rigorously. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
“Judging from the degree of rust, this should be an artifact from the Showa era.
I suggest handing it over to a museum.”
Even the usually serious Kiryuin Yuu couldn’t help but turn his face away, his shoulders shaking slightly.
Kitano looked at the dripping, broken bucket and sighed helplessly.
“At least it proves there are indeed giants in this body of water.”
As the sun set, the four packed up their gear, ready to head back.
Fukuda Daiki’s keepnet held only a few pitifully small crucian carp.
Okabe Yuta insisted he felt at least three effective bites.
Kiryuin Yuu maintained his gentle smile, quite satisfied with his small crucian carp.
Kitano’s catch was the most unique: a broken bucket, a tattered shoe entangled with aquatic plants, and a few dead branches from the riverbed, hooked from who knows where.
“Typical Kitano,” Fukuda Daiki patted his shoulder, “always full of surprises.”
On the way back, the setting sun stretched their shadows long.
Kitano pushed his bicycle, the rusty bucket clanking on the handlebars.
“Actually, when you think about it,” he suddenly began, “fishing is a lot like life—you never know what you’ll catch on the next cast.
It could be a surprise, or it could be…
a broken bucket.”
Okabe Yuta mused, “But it’s precisely because it’s full of unknowns that people can’t resist it.”
Kiryuin Yuu softly added, “And what’s important is never what you caught,”
He looked at the silhouette of Tracen Academy in the distance, “but this peaceful time, and the people you can share this time with.”
Fukuda Daiki loudly declared, “I’ve decided!
Next time we’re going sea fishing!
I heard there are real giants out there!”
The four looked at each other and laughed, their laughter carrying far in the twilight.
The rusty bucket clanged on the handlebars, as if accompanying their bountiful journey.
Kitano looked back at the river surface, gradually fading into the twilight, a smile playing on his lips.
Although he hadn’t caught any fish today, he had gained something more precious than fish.
“Are you coming next time?” Fukuda Daiki asked when they parted ways.
“Of course,” Kitano patted the bucket on his handlebars.
“I need to deal with this trophy; maybe I can transform it into a special keepnet.”
In the twilight, the figures of the four skunked fishermen gradually disappeared around their respective street corners, leaving only their laughter echoing in the evening breeze.
It really helps the fic grow!