“This is a misunderstanding!” Kitasan Black knelt on the ground, eyes brimming with unshed tears, staring pleadingly at Kaisoku—who was now firmly barricaded behind Satono Diamond.
She was hoping Kaisoku might say something in her defense.
But the girl was still reeling from the near-loss of her first kiss and couldn’t muster a single word of support.
Kaisoku’s obvious distress only fueled Diamond’s anger further.
If this were a Pokémon battle, Diamond had just used Dragon Dance twice—with Attack and Speed boosted—and was ready to wipe Kita out in a single turn.
Sweep Tosho, who’d initially considered intervening, decided this was above her pay grade.
That scene had really not looked like a misunderstanding.
“Kita.
As your childhood friend, I’ll grant you one sentence to explain yourself—” Diamond’s smile had turned genuinely frightening.
Kita swallowed hard, but in her calmer moments realized that even a successful explanation probably wouldn’t save her from a beating.
Nearly running Kaisoku into the ground through overtraining wasn’t exactly better than trying to kiss her.
Her courage to even open her mouth evaporated, and she hung her head.
“I’m sorry, I was wrong—guilty as charged.”
“—It wasn’t entirely Kita’s fault.
I haven’t trained like that in a long time, so I was a bit…” Kaisoku finally raised her hand in defense.
Kita was, after all, the coach she’d recruited.
She owed her at least half the blame.
She hadn’t anticipated that Kita—unlike the overprotective Diamond—would genuinely forget that her trainee was still a complete beginner.
The core issue was simply that she couldn’t keep up with Kita’s training intensity.
It had probably looked like dehydration to Kita in the moment, but really she’d just run out of breath and blacked out briefly from oxygen deficit.
She recovered quickly.
Hearing the full explanation, Diamond’s expression softened somewhat.
Knowing it was a first-aid situation rather than anything else took most of the edge off her anger toward Kita, though some still lingered.
“If you wanted training help, you could’ve just asked me, Kai.” Diamond emphasized.
“Kita’s skill level is high, but she’s completely hopeless at teaching.”
“—Who says…?
I just momentarily forgot that Kai hasn’t done this kind of volume before.” Kita muttered under her breath, but one glance from Diamond and her head drooped again.
“Sorry.
I got carried away.”
“It’s normal to feel anxious, Kai, but you need to pace yourself.” Sweep Tosho chimed in.
“Tōdai isn’t rushing you.
I think you have plenty of time.
And real training can only start properly after honkaku-ka anyway—everything before that is foundation work.”
“Right—honkaku-ka is an umamusume’s coming-of-age milestone.” Diamond agreed.
“Okay, clearly no more training today.
Speaking of which—Kai, did you eat breakfast?”
“…Grrrrrumble.” Kaisoku quietly covered her stomach.
The cafeteria did serve breakfast, but she’d woken up so early that the kitchen was still prepping.
She’d headed straight to the track on an empty stomach.
The blackout was probably partly hunger-related.
“Um… no…”
“Kai…” Diamond was at her wit’s end.
“You absolutely have to eat something before training.”
“I know, I know…” Kaisoku recognized Diamond’s concern and offered zero resistance.
“Never again.
Promise.”
“Good… Let’s get breakfast, then.
My treat.” Diamond decided that was enough scolding and clapped her hands.
“After we eat, we can figure out a proper training plan for Kai.”
“Can I…” Kita raised her hand tentatively.
“…come too?”
“You’re forgiven—this time.” Diamond sighed at her childhood friend’s pleading.
“Aww—that’s not fair!” Kita protested.
“It wasn’t all my fault!”
“Just stop talking—” Sweep Tosho hauled Kita to her feet.
“And Kita, you really can’t teach.”
“Waaah—it was just one mistake…” Kita’s protests fell on deaf ears.
Diamond was too preoccupied replaying that scene in her mind.
Watching Kaisoku happily anticipating breakfast, Diamond’s sense of crisis intensified.
Her Kai was just… a little too trusting, wasn’t she?
So smart, yet she kept doing reckless things—pushing her body past its limit to keep up with Kita’s pace.
Was that admirable perseverance or just foolishness?
Either way, Diamond didn’t dislike it.
Whether it was cramming for Tōdai or training on the track, that desperate intensity was completely at odds with Kaisoku’s fragile appearance.
What kind of environment produced someone like this?
Diamond didn’t understand, but she was drawn to it all the same.
Before anything else, though, they needed to get Kaisoku’s health up.
It wasn’t just the week of sleep-deprived exam cramming—even before that, the girl’s constitution had been poor.
Kaisoku had been one of the most frequent absentees at school, having been hospitalized with a high fever right at the start of term for a full week.
By the time she returned, her withdrawal combined with the class already having splintered into established cliques meant nobody bullied her, but nobody approached her either.
Her social anxiety had started showing its first signs then.
The current Kaisoku had emerged from her shell, but the anxiety persisted.
She was simply forcing herself through the fear to interact with others.
Diamond noticed every time, though only she—only she—understood how much effort the current Toujou Kaisoku was putting in.
She couldn’t help reaching out to ruffle Kaisoku’s hair.
“You’ve been working so hard.”
“I know, I know.
I’ll take it easier next time.” Kaisoku’s cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk’s around a rice ball.
She swallowed with effort before answering.
“Lesson learned—will apply next time!”
Diamond and Kitasan Black worked out a joint plan to help Kaisoku train, but today was firmly off-limits.
This kind of thing required moderation—there was no shortage of umamusume who’d trained so recklessly they’d developed lingering injuries.
That was putting the cart before the horse.
Back at the dorm, Kaisoku found a small package at her door.
Spotting the sender’s name, her eyes lit up.
Her gift had finally arrived—
Maruzensky had originally promised her a sports car, which Kaisoku had rejected with every ounce of persuasion she possessed.
She didn’t have a license, for one thing, and a luxury vehicle would be meaningless to her regardless.
After extensive negotiation, she’d traded the car for something far more personally valuable.
Kaisoku carried the package inside and tore it open.
Before her sat a top-of-the-line “supercar”—not the four-wheeled variety, but a laptop with supercar-tier specs.
Its sticker price was a fraction of an actual supercar’s, but paired with the accessories she’d requested, its value to Kaisoku was immeasurable.
“Oh my GOD—I couldn’t afford this drawing display even in my past life!” Kaisoku gazed rapturously at the digital art setup before her, her face radiating pure bliss.
She couldn’t let go of her former craft.
Even if it was just for relaxation, she wanted to draw.
In this life, she’d never be a professional animator or illustrator—AI or no AI, that ship had sailed.
But this top-tier drawing display paired with a high-end computer wasn’t just about satisfying a small artistic itch.
Someone with her proficiency across multiple software suites could easily pick up freelance work to supplement her income.
For an artist, this setup was the ultimate dream kit—the kind of gear she’d have sold a kidney for in her past life.
“Ahhhh… bliss… absolute bliss…” Kaisoku’s expression rivaled a streamer pulling the rarest card in the pack.
This setup had been the stuff of fantasy in her previous life—hundreds of times she’d imagined owning it.
She’d never expected to achieve that dream in another world entirely.
Time to draw—” She powered on the computer, barely containing her excitement.
This body had never held a stylus, but her muscle memory flowed seamlessly—years of relentless practice had made her proficient in virtually every technique.
It was one of the few things she could genuinely be proud of.
But when the rush of excitement faded and she looked at the nearly-complete piece on the screen, her expression dimmed.
“But… as always… there’s no personality to it…” She thought with a touch of bitterness.
In her previous life, her technique, color sense, and fundamentals had all been excellent.
But her fatal weakness was the absence of innovation.
Her style was textbook academic—precise, polished, the kind that scored high marks under any instructor’s rubric.
But in the real world, her impeccable technique lacked a soul to drive it.
Yes—a soul.
Personality.
She loved art, but she lacked the innate spark of a true artist.
Her work was the product of countless hours of grinding at the fundamentals.
It was a mortal’s art.
Technically impeccable, devoid of inspired brilliance.
That was one reason she’d never broken through.
Still, she maintained that the skills she’d honed through sheer effort were the right foundation.
All she needed was a catalyst—a finishing touch to breathe life into her work.
Just one flash of inspiration, and her art could transcend from competent to extraordinary.
But she’d exhausted an entire lifetime chasing that flash and never found it.
In this new life, would she finally discover that missing spark?
She didn’t know.
And she didn’t dare gamble on it—because this body and this life weren’t hers alone.
She was borrowing the body of a girl named Toujou Kaisoku, and she owed it to that girl to fulfill their shared dream: happiness.
And yet she’d still wished for these tools.
She had to admit it—old habits died hard.
But this time, in this life, she would find true happiness.
For Toujou Kaisoku, and for herself.
She would live happily.
“So keep going, Toujou Kaisoku.
Don’t slack off.
Full speed ahead—” she told herself, clutching the promise of happiness to her chest like something precious, the words a whispered prayer from someone who’d been parched for far too long.
From that point on, Kaisoku’s daily routine took on a steady rhythm.
Mornings: wake with Diamond, wash up, eat breakfast, train with Kita—and occasionally Sweep Tosho.
After morning training, she’d return to the dorm to draw, posting finished pieces to a secret social media account nobody knew about.
Then she’d head off to class to zone out.
After morning classes, she’d decide based on the afternoon schedule whether to nap for an hour or read.
Tōdai hadn’t formally enrolled her yet, but the university president—who’d taken a personal interest in her—had already sent over study materials on umamusume racing, along with assorted literary supplementary reading.
It wasn’t just the university paying attention.
Tracen Academy had also been generous—sending not only the training shoes and pre-ordered uniform but a monthly financial stipend from the Student Council, specifically allocated to improve Kaisoku’s living conditions, deposited directly into her bank account.
Under this steady, full routine, the day of Kaisoku’s middle school graduation finally arrived.
The school might not have been a perfect place, but the people she’d met here were irreplaceable.
When the bald principal handed her the diploma, she felt a small pang of something bittersweet.
But this wasn’t an ending.
It was a true beginning.
Graduating middle school meant her enrollment at Tokyo University was official—and so was her exchange student status at Tracen Academy.
It also meant honkaku-ka was approaching.
Her debut race drew nearer with every passing day.
She was still nervous, but she’d never received this much support and attention before.
It couldn’t be helped—a grade-skipping Tōdai prodigy was impressive enough, but a umamusume who’d done it was completely unprecedented.
And then—as cherry blossoms drifted through the spring air—
Toujou Kaisoku successfully completed her honkaku-ka.
In other words, her debut race was about to begin—!