Getting outmaneuvered was annoying, no question about it.
But Toujou Kaisoku had, at the end of the day, made it into Tokyo University through Symboli Rudolf’s connections.
The catch was that even after getting into Tōdai, she still had to race.
Because during her interview, she’d personally agreed to participate in Tokyo University’s promotional efforts—
“…Why didn’t I stop to question what ‘promotional efforts’ actually meant back then…” Kaisoku buried herself entirely under her blankets.
From despair to elation to the bitter sting of being played—she’d run through most of the emotional spectrum in a single day.
Her visibly deflated state left Satono Diamond, who’d been planning to celebrate with her, at a complete loss.
“But Kai, you did get into Tōdai—that’s a first.
A genuine breakthrough.
It’s incredible, you know?
Try to be at least a little happy.” Diamond tried to coax her, but Kaisoku wasn’t cheering up.
“It’s not that I hate running.
I just genuinely think my talent doesn’t compare to yours or Kita’s.
Even if I got on the track, I don’t have the mental fortitude for it.
When it comes down to it, I’m just a background umamusume.
And sure, I’m supposed to promote Tōdai, but… what kind of placement would even count as promotion?!” Kaisoku’s inferiority complex was etched into her bones.
Whether it was the original Toujou Kaisoku or the transmigrated office drone, both were, in their own way, life’s losers.
Neither had confidence in domains they weren’t good at—if the girl hadn’t already been academically gifted, she never would have considered applying to Tōdai in the first place.
“So it’s not that you’re upset about running, and it’s not that you’re upset about being tricked—you’re worried you won’t live up to everyone’s expectations?” Diamond finally read the subtext.
Listening more carefully, Kaisoku didn’t actually sound angry about being manipulated.
What she feared was letting people down.
“Well… I mean, without Student Council President Rudolf pulling strings for me, I couldn’t even have gotten into the early admissions program.
I’d have had to gamble on the national entrance exam.” Kaisoku muttered, “Though it would’ve been even better if she hadn’t schemed behind my back…”
—Anyway, I’m going to Tōdai to study.
Tracen Academy’s Student Council President shouldn’t have any jurisdiction over me there.
When I think of it that way, it’s actually bearable.
Kaisoku told herself.
“That’s true.
You keep complaining, Kai, but it’s always about yourself, never blaming anyone else.
I really like that about you,” Diamond said with a smile.
“And I’ll keep helping you going forward—you’re still a long way from the racecourse, after all.”
“…Huh?”
“Huh?”
Kaisoku blinked.
“What do you mean, a long way?”
“There’s no way anyone would send you onto the track before you’ve completed honkaku-ka…” Diamond suddenly realized the depths of Kaisoku’s cluelessness about basic umamusume common sense.
“The absolute minimum prerequisite for entering the Twinkle Series is completing honkaku-ka first.
Otherwise, you’d only be eligible for amateur races.”
“Is that so?!” Kaisoku was stunned.
“I thought I’d have to start running right away!”
“That’s how it works, yes… Kai, are you really okay on basic common sense?” Diamond sighed.
“Goodness, I do worry about your future.”
“Setting aside Kai’s common sense for a moment—so she’s basically been informally accepted by Tōdai, right?” Kita asked.
“But I don’t think Tōdai has training facilities for umamusume.
How would she even represent them in competition?”
“…Eh…” Kaisoku hadn’t considered this.
“Are they going to build me a training facility from scratch?”
It sounded fantastical, but given Tokyo University’s resources, it wasn’t entirely impossible.
“That’d still be absurdly expensive…” Diamond shook her head.
A proper umamusume training facility isn’t something you can just carve out of a random corner.”
“…I can’t even visualize spending more than a thousand yen at once… don’t ask me…” Kaisoku had already shut down.
She’d just received triple her usual pay from Miss Ten, but with her level of frugality, forget buying nice food—she fully intended to stash it all as emergency escape funds in case things went sideways.
“Well, Tōdai surely won’t mistreat you.
I mean, you’re literally the only umamusume in the entire university.
They’ll probably treat you like a treasure?”
“Until they realize I’m completely useless trash…”
“There it is—Kai occasionally shows that old gloomy streak…” Diamond patted the wilted Kaisoku.
With looks like hers, she really was gorgeous—but with that dejected expression, she resembled a moldy daikon radish.
Not an ounce of cuteness left.
“Kai’s talent is actually really good… it’s just that weird deceleration issue that doesn’t make any sense.” Kitasan Black, who’d raced against Kaisoku once, had the clearest impression.
In the beginning, Kaisoku’s form and speed while leading had been top-tier.
But her cornering was poor, and once she was overtaken, she’d decelerated dramatically—as if the very act of being passed had done something to her.
It clearly wasn’t normal.
The explosive final spurt she’d unleashed afterward proved she hadn’t run out of gas, so why had there been such a severe drop in speed?
“I can’t figure it out.
How about I race Kai again sometime and we try to work it out?”
“Kita, have you not noticed that Kai’s already gone back into defense mode?” The Kaisoku in front of Diamond had burrowed entirely into her blanket cocoon, only a small rear end and a white tail poking out, projecting an air of absolute impermeability.
The moment this defense mode activated, Diamond knew it meant no.
Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep—beep-beep-beep-beep—
Just then, the phone in Kaisoku’s back pocket began vibrating, emitting a strange series of beeps that startled her into poking her head out of the blankets.
She fumbled around her pockets for a while before discovering the phone had been in her back pocket all along.
Flipping open the clamshell phone, she saw an unsaved number—not that her contact list was extensive.
It contained exactly three entries: Satono Diamond, Kitasan Black, and Miss Ten.
“…Hello?” She cautiously pressed the receiver to her ear.
“May I ask who’s calling?”
“Is this Miss Toujou Kaisoku?” An elderly voice came through the speaker.
It sounded familiar.
After a moment’s thought, Kaisoku realized it belonged to the professor who’d interviewed her—the university president, in fact—and she hurriedly responded.
“Yes!
Um… I’ve already received the acceptance letter.”
“Oh, I had Symboli Rudolf deliver it to you.
She said she wanted to see your expression when you opened it—do forgive her little bit of mischief.
She truly does think highly of you.” The president of Tokyo University spoke into the phone with a warm chuckle.
“Since its founding, Tokyo University has never had an umamusume among its students.
On one hand, the academic pressure is daunting.
On the other, Tracen Academy absorbs virtually all umamusume with competitive aspirations.
So we take your decision to apply to Tōdai very seriously, and I hope you understand that.”
“I understand… So, what’s the reason for your call?” Kaisoku asked tentatively.
“Ha ha, to discuss what comes next, of course.” The president laughed.
“Tokyo University doesn’t have training facilities suited to an umamusume’s needs.
So while you are officially a Tōdai student, for all training activities beyond your academic coursework, I’ve already made arrangements with Symboli Rudolf.
She’s agreed to let you use Tracen Academy’s dormitory and training grounds—think of it as being an exchange student who can come back anytime.”
“…What do you mean, exactly?”
“Tōdai will reserve a single room in the dormitory for you along with all your student privileges, and you’re welcome to return at any time.
But you will simultaneously be enrolled as a member of Tracen Academy.
Your uniform is already being custom-made as we speak.
Rest assured, you’ll always be a student of Tokyo University—we’ll take care of everything.” The president’s kindly voice had begun to sound rather sinister in Kaisoku’s ears.
“…I’m… I’m also going to be a Tracen Academy student?” Kaisoku’s face had gone white enough to make her dizzy.
She’d just thought she was free of Symboli Rudolf’s clutches, and now her own university was shipping her straight back into the lion’s den!
“Um… is there any room for negotiation?”
If you have specific requests regarding your accommodations or treatment, I’m happy to consider them.
But the exchange student decision itself is set in stone.” The president said it with a smile, but for Kaisoku it landed like a hammer blow.
She could already picture Symboli Rudolf’s enigmatic grin.
“Besides, having both Tracen Academy privileges and Tōdai privileges isn’t a bad deal, is it?
We’ll make special adjustments for your situation too—online classes, for instance.” The president had actually been quite thorough, even accounting for future housing and study logistics, and had generously waived Kaisoku’s tuition fees.
The terms were genuinely appealing, and they reflected both Tōdai’s deep pockets and how seriously they were taking her.
By any reasonable measure, this was an extraordinarily generous arrangement.
But Kaisoku had already developed deep psychological scarring where Symboli Rudolf was concerned.
She couldn’t help it—the kid wasn’t exactly new to how the world worked, but this was the first time she’d ever been played this thoroughly.
Logically and emotionally, the kid was spooked.
She’d planned to steer clear of Rudolf in the future, and now she was being hand-delivered to the woman’s doorstep.
What kind of cosmic joke is this?!
I’m done for… If that Student Council President has me in her sights… what’s my life going to look like?
Toujou Kaisoku silently set down her ancient clamshell phone and let out an unprecedented wail.
“You played me!
Symboli Rudolllllf!!!”
“Achoo!” Far away at Tracen Academy, Symboli Rudolf rubbed her nose as she reviewed Toujou Kaisoku’s exchange student paperwork.
She’d been sneezing all day for no discernible reason.
Allergies?
It wasn’t even the right season.
Still, with matters successfully concluded, she was in fine spirits.
Toujou Kaisoku had exceeded her expectations.
If the girl’s grades had truly been lacking, not even the most accommodating university president would have admitted her.
Which meant Kaisoku wasn’t just academically gifted—she had serious racing talent to boot.
Letting someone this promising slip through her fingers would have been maddening.
And the arrangement benefited both institutions: Tokyo University wanted more umamusume applicants to demonstrate that Tōdai was accessible to them, while Tracen Academy wanted its retired racers to have stronger motivation to pursue higher education.
The two sides had struck a deal instantly, with Kaisoku as their test case—could one umamusume excel on both the track and in the classroom?
For Rudolf personally, the chance to guide a gifted young talent onto the racecourse was thrilling enough on its own.
Whether the girl came from Central Tracen didn’t matter.
If that mattered to her, Rudolf wouldn’t have had such a strong relationship with Oguri Cap.
What Rudolf valued was ability, not some nebulous concept of “glory.”
She believed Toujou Kaisoku would surprise her.
After all, anyone with enough willpower to cram for the Tōdai entrance exam in two weeks and barely scrape past the cutoff was no weakling, no matter what she claimed.
For both schools, it was a risk-free experiment, and Kaisoku fit both sides’ requirements perfectly.
With both the Tōdai president and the Tracen Student Council President giving the green light, the remaining paperwork was little more than formality.
Once Kaisoku graduated, Rudolf planned to bring her straight to Tracen Academy and let her soak in the competitive atmosphere.
She knew—when an exceptional umamusume saw rivals even stronger than herself, the instinct to compete would ignite on its own.
Kaisoku would be no exception.
That was the impulse every talented umamusume shared.
Once she experienced Tracen’s atmosphere, her passion for racing would awaken whether she liked it or not.
Kaisoku was the ultimate catfish thrown into the Tracen pond—if Central Tracen’s umamusume couldn’t even outrun Tōdai’s “amateur,” the psychological devastation would be immense.
Thinking it through, investing in Toujou Kaisoku was a can’t-lose proposition.
She literally couldn’t lose if she tried.
Maruzensky, however, had gotten to know Kaisoku’s personality a bit after their heart-to-heart, and she suspected the girl wasn’t exactly celebrating right now.
Quite the opposite—she was probably on the verge of tears.
…Oh well.
I’ll send her something nice later.
Maruzensky watched Rudolf’s satisfied expression with a sympathetic smile, then pressed her palms together in Kaisoku’s direction—a gesture of reverent apology, her face solemn as a prayer.
“Sorry about that—Toujou Kaisoku.”