Chapter 22

"Holy sh*t!!!"

From the spectator stands, two middle-aged men suddenly burst out with a string of crude exclamations.

"Total dark horse! She actually won that beautifully!"

"That's the champion of the Yunotori Sho—Seiran Nichirin—completely crushed! And she was one of the favorites for the Habuto Sho too!"

A five-length victory.

To outsiders, it might not mean much.

But to seasoned fans? They understood instantly.

It meant their strength wasn't even on the same level. A five-length gap—that was like a whole different dimension!

"Is this some Central-tier graded Uma Musume come down to toy with the locals?" the two muttered.

And right now, their thoughts were shared by the majority of the audience watching the Keihin Cup on TV across the country.

The South Kanto Triple Crown... was about to be hit by a storm.

...

"Huff... Hah... Hah..."

Fujimasa March gradually slowed down and finally came to a stop.

Rain poured harder and harder across the track, but her heart was clearer than ever.

"So I've really made it this far now, huh...?"

Panting heavily, Fujimasa March felt the world around her expand like never before. The sky felt wider. The earth, endless.

Even under the downpour, the girl seemed to savor it—spreading her arms slightly like embracing the tempest.

A subtle, white firefly-like light flickered wildly in her eyes.

[Uma Musume Data Update Registered]

[Fujimasa March]

[Domain: None] → [Domain: Awakening]

Behind her—

Seiran Nichirin was doubled over, breathless and exhausted, her calves trembling faintly with every gasp.

As some hidden realization dawned on her, the light in her eyes began to fade.

"You're Seiran Nichirin, right?"

Suddenly, a cold voice called out from ahead.

Still catching her breath, Seiran looked up.

A silver-haired figure stood in front of her, hair whipping in the storm—

Fujimasa March.

"You should've had energy left for the final straight. So why didn't you catch up?"

Even though she had won, Fujimasa March couldn't shake the question in her heart.

This Uma Musume—Seiran Nichirin—had an explosiveness far beyond hers in the final leg. Even if she couldn't beat her, she shouldn't have fallen behind by five lengths.

Seiran Nichirin opened her mouth slightly, as if trying to say something, but in the end, no sound came out.

"A loss is a loss. There's nothing else to say."

Gritting her silver teeth, she forced herself upright and turned her face away, the rain running down her blue hair like a curtain.

"The Habuto Sho... I won't lose again."

Fujimasa March silently watched her staggering figure walk away.

Then, solemnly, she said, "I'll be waiting!"

...

Back inside the paddock tunnel.

Fujimasa March had only taken a few steps when a large hand gently pressed a towel over her head.

She didn't react much—just blushed, stopping in place as the hand carefully wiped the rain from her hair.

"Trainer..."

"Mm? What's up?" Kuroha replied softly as he continued drying her off.

"I won!"

"Of course you did!"

He gave her a quick rub-down before hurrying back to the waiting room, handing her the dry change of clothes he'd prepared earlier.

Even though Uma Musume had superhuman bodies, Kuroha still worried about them catching colds.

...

Inside the waiting room—

Inari One was pacing like she had ADHD, her tiny frame jittering around like a live wire, grabbing her ears, scratching her head.

"What's with you? Nervous about your own race in a few days?" Kuroha asked, confused.

"You—what the heck do you know?!"

Hearing Kuroha's voice, she turned around and lashed out, baring her teeth in a cute snarl.

"Aaagh! Whatever! I'm going outside to wait for you guys!"

Done playing hyperactive child, Inari One gave a shout and stormed out of the room.

"...?"

Kuroha had no idea what her deal was.

Tilting his head in confusion, he eventually shrugged and pulled out a Central License exam prep book to review.

Good thing he had only graduated early a few months ago—his memory was still in its prime. This kind of test material was no problem at all.

Click.

The door opened. Fujimasa March stepped in, now wearing dry casual clothes.

Her silver hair, still slightly damp, lay across her shoulders, tracing the elegant lines of her neck and collarbone. Her right ear, adorned with a bow, twitched slightly, tinged red from the warmth of her body.

Strands of her silver-white tail were still beaded with raindrops, swaying restlessly behind her.

"All changed?" Kuroha asked, putting his book away.

"Let's head back, alright? Make sure to take a shower when we get to the dorm. I don't want you catching a cold tomor—"

He stopped mid-sentence, realizing Fujimasa March wasn't responding.

"Hm? What's wrong? Did you lose something?" he asked, glancing up.

"T-Trainer... do you remember you said... if I won, you'd give me a reward?"

Fujimasa March's voice was quiet, and as she spoke, a deep blush crept up from her snow-white neck.

"...Right... I guess I did say that..." Kuroha blinked.

Then his brain exploded.

Wait—hold up—

Was she about to...?!

"I want my reward. Right now!" she declared, eyes locked onto his.

"...Here? Isn't that a bit much?"

He stood there stunned for a moment, slowly accepting that his little Uma was actually throwing herself at him.

They were about the same age—teenagers in the prime of youth. Sometimes he had a hunch something like this might happen...

But he didn't expect it this soon.

Seeing that he hadn't rejected her, Fujimasa March's tension melted away.

In a slightly bashful tone, she mumbled, "Just a kiss... isn't that okay?"

"..."

...

Just outside the waiting room door.

Inari One was squatting on the ground, bored out of her mind.

Just when she thought she'd be waiting a while longer...

The door opened, and Kuroha and Fujimasa March walked out—both looking a little... off.

"Huh? That was fast! Barely two minutes!"

Inari One stared at them in disbelief.

Smack!

"Ow!!"

In the next instant, she was clutching her head with a dramatic yelp.

"You're a little too young to be thinking that much, huh?" Kuroha grumbled, withdrawing his hand.

"I'm not that young! I'm a year ahead of March!" she huffed defiantly—though her 139cm height really didn't help her case.

"Anyway, today was a huge win! I'm treating you to hotpot!"

"Now you're talking!"

(End of Chapter)

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