Even though Grass Wonder’s tail incident had lasted quite a while and created a somewhat awkward atmosphere, Kitahara Sota didn’t dwell on it for too long, treating it merely as a minor, insignificant episode.
After chatting briefly and releasing her tail, he refocused his attention back to his screen, diligently resuming his work without giving Grass Wonder further thought.
After all, why should he worry?
Previously, he might have suspected she swung both ways, but given how openly she adored Special Week and treated him like a trusted brother, that possibility was clearly off the table.
As for the tail incident itself—wasn’t that further proof she viewed him merely as a good friend? Surely she wouldn’t do something so sensitive to a person of romantic interest?
Even so, a subtle awkwardness lingered between Kitahara and Grass Wonder for some time afterward.
Once he finished his work, Kitahara glanced at Grass Wonder and Agnes Digital to confirm they didn’t need his help before leaving the dormitory once more, intending to take a stroll around campus.
Since today was Sunday, the campus bustled with trainers and Uma Musume leisurely wandering around. Even the abandoned warehouse and the spots conveniently overlooked by security teams remained lively.
Kitahara deliberately picked less crowded areas. Many recent transfers to Tracen were acquaintances, and being recognized would almost certainly end with him being pestered.
For the same reason, he had left Eclipse behind today.
Alone, he had at least some chance of resisting attempts to join his team, but with Eclipse present, someone new would probably slip onto his roster before he even realized.
As he wandered, consciously avoiding busy routes, Kitahara eventually arrived at a quiet, secluded grove.
This area had once been Agnes Tachyon’s favored haunt. Although she currently resided in his dorm, few people knew of it.
Even if they did, knowing Agnes Tachyon had moved to his dormitory, they’d still avoid this area instinctively. After all, why deliberately approach danger when one could simply steer clear?
That conveniently provided Kitahara with some much-needed solitude.
It sure is peaceful here…
Walking leisurely through the shaded greenery, Kitahara reflected on the chaotic events of recent days, sighing inwardly.
Well, despite all the precarious situations, I’ve managed to overcome them through my own efforts. Although the amount of close contact has increased, the relationships have remained normal.
Still, sometimes the pressure could be overwhelming.
Especially now, during this training camp—his entire dorm overflowed with the scent of Uma Musume. Coupled with everyone casually strolling around in pajamas, his mental strain grew daily.
If not for his strict exercise regimen and some acupressure techniques he’d discovered to manage his stress, things might’ve gotten unbearably awkward by now.
He’d briefly considered other methods to relieve stress, but the Uma Musume’s heightened senses posed a significant problem. If he tried anything, they’d immediately detect it, making things irreversibly awkward.
However, after spending a bit more time in this secluded grove, Kitahara noticed to his surprise that his distracting thoughts gradually subsided, and his mental fatigue noticeably eased.
What a nice place.
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
Since he wasn’t afraid of Agnes Tachyon, perhaps he could visit more frequently to relax and clear his mind…
Lost in thought, Kitahara continued deeper into the grove.
Soon after, he reached a quiet clearing and spotted an unusual figure standing ahead.
Black ears, flowing black hair, a black trench coat, and black stockings—from head to toe, dressed entirely in black.
Huh? Did Eclipse come looking for me?
Kitahara paused briefly, quickly realizing it wasn’t her.
Despite the similar monochromatic outfit and hairstyle, subtle differences were apparent—the clothing style, posture, height, and overall aura differed significantly. Others might have struggled to tell them apart, but after a lifetime spent with Eclipse, Kitahara had no trouble.
After eliminating Eclipse, he quickly recognized this person’s identity.
Manhattan Cafe.
One of Agnes Tachyon’s few friends—and frequent guinea pig.
Like Tachyon, she was notorious within Tracen Academy as an eccentric, perhaps even more mysteriously so.
In short, Manhattan Cafe possessed the ability to see things invisible to others and had a “friend” no one else could perceive.
Ghosts? Spirits? Something else entirely?
Kitahara wasn’t sure. But such phenomena tended to terrify young girls, leaving Cafe with few friends. Eventually, she’d become desperate enough to befriend a mad scientist like Tachyon.
Thinking this, Kitahara suddenly realized something else.
Wait… Since Manhattan Cafe hardly has any other friends, doesn’t that mean she lost her only normal friend when Agnes Tachyon moved in with me?
Although she still had her invisible “friend,” it wasn’t quite the same.
Could she be here, looking for Tachyon right now?
Kitahara considered briefly, finding this the most likely scenario.
To be honest, despite Manhattan Cafe not being especially dangerous, Kitahara preferred avoiding involvement with supernatural phenomena.
However, gazing at Cafe’s lonely back and realizing that perhaps because of him, she’d lost her only genuine companion—left alone to wait in this secluded place, hoping for Tachyon to return—his conscience twinged uncomfortably.
Moreover, according to Tachyon, no trainer dared to take Cafe on due to her ghostly “friend.” Although the invisible companion reportedly performed adequately as a substitute trainer, it couldn’t provide the comfort of genuine friendship.
Thus, Manhattan Cafe was merely registered under a team with no actual trainer, teammates, or real friends.
Even if her “friend” fulfilled trainer duties, she remained only a spectral entity, never truly a friend.
Watching the lonely figure, Kitahara debated internally for several moments before finally giving in and stepping forward.
He had no intention of becoming Cafe’s friend or deepening their relationship.
Instead, he simply planned to inform her of Tachyon’s current location, suggesting she visit occasionally. He’d serve as a bridge only this once, keeping interactions minimal afterward to maintain a safe distance.
As for the ghostly “friend”…?
Actually, Kitahara Sota wasn’t particularly worried about the “friend.”
Sure, she might be strange, but he’d never heard of her hurting anyone. Besides, with Nice Nature and Agnes Digital in his dorm—both arguably more frightening than a ghostly “friend”—there was little reason for concern.
Thus, he approached the black-clad figure and called out casually.
“Manhattan Cafe-san, are you looking for Agnes Tachyon?”
The black figure’s ears twitched slightly, but she neither turned around nor responded.
Hm? Did she not hear me? Or did I mistake someone else for her?
Confused, Kitahara took a few steps closer.
Hearing footsteps behind her, the “Manhattan Cafe” finally seemed to realize someone was addressing her. She turned around, surprise and confusion flickering across her face.
“Were you…talking to me just now?”
Long black hair, golden eyes, and that distinct white ahoge atop her head—exactly matching Kitahara’s impression of Manhattan Cafe.
No mistake, it’s definitely Manhattan Cafe.
Confident he had the right person, Kitahara considered that perhaps she didn’t recognize him. So, he began introducing himself.
“Sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Tachyon’s trainer—Kitahara Sota—”
But before he could finish, “Manhattan Cafe” abruptly cut him off, pointing at herself with a strange expression.
“Let me confirm once more: you…really were talking to me?”
“Is there someone else here?” Kitahara replied, puzzled.
This Cafe-san…seems a little off. Did Tachyon experiment too much on her?
Wait—
A gentle breeze rustled the surrounding leaves, and Kitahara suddenly noticed something bizarre.
This “Manhattan Cafe”…didn’t seem to have a shadow.
The breeze stirred again.
Even though it was summer, a chill seeped into the shaded grove.
Kitahara immediately understood.
The figure standing before him wasn’t Manhattan Cafe herself, but rather her invisible “friend”—the ghostly entity that shared her exact appearance.
Just as he realized this, the real Manhattan Cafe emerged hurriedly from behind the trees, confirming his suspicion.
“You mistook me for Cafe, did you? Understandable, considering we’re identical…”
The “friend” rested her chin in one hand, golden eyes examining the man before her with playful interest. Her lips curved into a mysterious smile.
Someone other than Cafe can actually see me…
However, her amusement lasted only a moment before she noticed Kitahara’s expression shift abruptly.
Seriousness, curiosity—excitement?
“Can I touch you?”
Kitahara stared at her earnestly, his eyes ablaze with the hunger for knowledge.
A real ghost! An honest-to-goodness ghost! And not just any ghost—a ghostly Uma Musume!
Though Kitahara’s skills as a trainer had reached absurd heights, his passion for understanding and research had never diminished. However, he had lately sensed his growth slowing. He’d reached a bottleneck, unable to find new breakthroughs.
And yet, here stood before him a ghost, potentially opening an entirely new dimension for exploration:
If I’ve reached the limits of the physical realm, perhaps spiritual training is the next frontier…
Kitahara was a realist at heart, but the existence of this “friend” proved the undeniable reality of things unseen.
He didn’t know why he could see her—but it was clearly an opportunity.
And opportunities were meant to be seized.
Thus, he boldly asked the “friend” for permission to touch her, his gaze intense.
The ghost’s smile stiffened slightly.
From the moment she’d become conscious, she’d always been the one to scare others. This was the first time someone else had unsettled her.
Could this guy have some sort of strange fetish…?
The “friend” inwardly muttered, yet oddly didn’t refuse his request.
Shrugging lightly, she indicated he could try—though she remained confident it would fail. After all, she’d never once been touched, not even by Cafe. Seeing her was already remarkable enough. Actually touching her was impossible, so naturally he couldn’t—
A warm pressure.
Her shoulder dipped slightly beneath his fingertips.
The ghost’s expression froze completely.
Behind her, the real Manhattan Cafe’s eyes widened, equally stunned.
Only Kitahara’s expression continued changing—from excitement, to surprise, to contemplation, before finally settling into confusion.
Strange…is this what a ghost feels like?
The sensation differed completely from any Uma Musume he’d touched before. Yet, somehow, it felt oddly familiar—as if he’d experienced this before…
A memory slowly surfaced in his mind: a white figure.
He didn’t know her name or identity, nor had they ever properly conversed, yet he often encountered her during his wandering years.
She wasn’t in any of the games he remembered. Her appearance resembled Kiryuin’s small white horse—pure white, but with longer hair and pale lavender eyes.
He’d tried questioning her several times, curious about her constant appearances. Was she following him like the mysterious veteran Uma Musume, or did she have some request for him?
But she’d never answered—only silently touching his face, a mysterious gleam flickering deep in her lavender eyes.
The sensation back then was very similar to touching the “friend” now.
No warmth or tangible solidity—but a clear sense of genuine contact.
But unlike the “friend,” the white Uma Musume’s touch had been even stranger—though he couldn’t quite define how.
Notably, that white Uma Musume only appeared when Eclipse wasn’t around. She looked so similar to Eclipse that Kitahara once suspected it was just Eclipse with her colors faded.
Yet when he later mentioned this mysterious horse girl to Eclipse, her usually indifferent face immediately turned grave, warning him to notify her immediately if he saw the white figure again.
Afterward, Eclipse stayed close to him, and the mysterious white figure rarely appeared again. After coming to Tracen, he’d never seen her at all.
Could she have been a ghost, too?
Kitahara grew increasingly convinced of this theory. After all, she was elusive, often vanishing abruptly…
Suddenly, a strange sensation on his hand jolted Kitahara back to reality.
Looking down, he saw the “friend” gripping his hand, fervently guiding it toward her own face. Seeing his gaze return, she eagerly tilted her head upward, voice urgent.
“Quick, don’t stop! Keep touching me—harder!”
Kitahara: “…?”
—
This is a fan translation of 人在特雷森，专职摆烂 by 多功能复读机 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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