On the other side.
While the girls in Kitahara’s team were busy trying to invite over Komata Hajime’s girls to discuss countermeasures, Kitahara Sota had already arrived at the meeting place he and Komata had agreed on.
On the way, he also quietly removed the bug and GPS tracker that Agnes Tachyon had planted on him.
Tachyon probably thought she’d hidden it well, that Kitahara never noticed.
But in truth, he’d always known. He just couldn’t be bothered to care.
Now that he needed privacy, he took it off. When he went back later, he’d put it back on again.
Because—even if his current relationship with his Uma Musume was normal—only a few months had passed. There were still two years ahead.
If something unexpected happened and he really was thrown into a basement, maybe that little device could save his life.
About five minutes after Kitahara arrived at the meeting place, Komata Hajime showed up too.
Because today she was going to introduce him to her parents—and they had to act as boyfriend and girlfriend—
Komata wasn’t in her usual school uniform. Instead, she wore a black-and-white bodycon dress. Her loose hair was tied up into a bun, and she even had on black stockings and heels.
How to describe this look?
Kitahara Sota could see she was trying hard to aim for a mature style. On a thirty-something woman it might’ve carried a certain refined allure.
But Komata’s face was still too soft, and her figure too slight to carry those curves.
On her, the outfit had none of that mature woman’s charm. Instead, she looked exactly like a middle schooler who had stolen her mom’s clothes to sneak out on a date.
Especially once Kitahara noticed how awkward she was in the heels, walking gingerly and wobbling every few steps… the impression was even stronger.
Noticing his gaze, Komata flushed.
It wasn’t that she thought she looked bad—quite the opposite. She thought this outfit fully brought out her adult charm.
Before leaving, she’d stared at her reflection for ages, convinced this dress suited her, that paired with Kitahara Sota’s respect for her, it would surely make her parents see her as a grown-up.
But what she hadn’t expected was how different heels were from regular shoes. Especially since she’d gone for thin stilettos—on the way here she nearly fell multiple times.
“…I’ll hold your hand, senpai.”
In the end, Kitahara couldn’t hold back from offering.
Watching her limp along beside him, he really was afraid she’d go down before they even arrived, and end up meeting her parents with a busted face.
Of course, he could also see she was forcing herself, so he tossed in an excuse.
“Since we’re supposed to be pretending to be a couple, it’d look better if we act close on the way, right?”
He knew it might be a bit improper. But since he had agreed to act as her boyfriend today, Kitahara Sota would do it properly—without caring about anything else.
Komata, at first, wanted to refuse. But with his reasoning giving her a step down, and with her feet already unsteady, she hesitated, then nodded slightly.
“…Okay.”
At that, Kitahara reached out, gently took her hand, pried her fingers open with his own, and clasped it.
His face remained calm afterward, though inside he was a little melancholy, and on high alert for any acquaintances passing by.
Komata, on the other hand—her head immediately dropped, her face red as an apple.
She prided herself on being mature, reliable. She wanted to show her parents that side, and maintain her senpai dignity in front of Kitahara. But…
Feeling the warmth of his palm, Komata could barely resist the urge to cover her face.
No, you can’t. You’re a senpai. You’re an adult. You have to show the mature side of yourself…
Repeating this in her mind, steadying her breath, she managed to scrape together some composure before seeing her parents. She forced herself to ignore the touch of his hand.
Soon after, they arrived at the café where Komata’s parents were waiting.
Enter. Sit. Greet.
Kitahara carried it all off with natural smoothness, like he really was Komata’s boyfriend.
Komata, though—despite all her preparation, despite her plan to look mature—once she saw her parents, her movements turned stiff, her gaze evasive, her words stumbling.
Her parents, meanwhile, kept looking back and forth between the two. Their expressions: surprise and suspicion.
Surprise that Komata had actually brought a boyfriend. Suspicion that he was just pretending.
After all, from their phone calls before, her tone had sounded so shaky they’d assumed she was lying. But now…
Seeing the two walk in hand-in-hand, looking close, their doubts wavered.
No one else might know, but they did—this silly girl, from childhood till now, could barely even chat with boys. Hand-holding was unheard of.
Still, even so, the parents weren’t fully at ease. After a few words of introduction, they began probing.
“Do people at school know about your relationship?”
“Tracen doesn’t exactly encourage trainer romance. Besides, we’re both leading teams right now, careers come first. With many races coming soon, we didn’t want to affect the girls’ morale.”
“When did you start dating?”
“May. I’d just arrived at Tracen, Komata-senpai helped me a lot, and gradually, it started.”
“…Marriage?”
“For now, career takes priority. We still have our girls to guide, and the relationship is new. In the short term, no such plans.”
“…Children?”
“As trainers, Uma Musume would of course be best. But human children are fine too. Komata’s health might make childbirth difficult—we’d need to consult doctors. But it doesn’t matter. Even if she couldn’t have kids, I’d be fine with adoption.”
Kitahara answered smoothly, calm expression, serious tone—like someone who had truly thought this through.
Which he had—he’d simulated this scenario in his head when bored, so now he could face it unflinching.
Komata, however…
She was sinking fast.
She had expected her parents to test them, prepared herself for it. She’d even planned not to coordinate with Kitahara beforehand—so she could swoop in, save him when he stumbled, and show her senpai authority.
Instead…
At first she barely kept composure.
But as questions grew sharper, her face burned, words failed.
When the topic of children came up, her head sank completely.
She’d never thought they’d go this far. If they’d asked her directly, she would’ve stammered helplessly.
But Kitahara stayed composed.
And when he mentioned wanting Uma Musume children, her mind instantly conjured the image of the two of them in a yard, raising a child together. Her face burned hotter still.
Kitahara-chan, Kitahara-chan—enough, that’s enough, don’t say more…
She wanted to shout it, but couldn’t raise her head. All she could do was tug timidly at his sleeve.
Before she could pull back, his hand caught hers.
Then his calm, earnest voice:
“So—will you entrust Komata to me? I promise I’ll make her happy.”
Komata froze completely.
Seeing their joined hands, their daughter’s reaction, Komata’s parents’ eyes curved into crescents, their mouths lifting, nearly tearing up.
God knew how many years they’d worried over her marriage, how much hair they’d gone gray from stress.
But they’d never had the heart to force her. All they could do was hint, again and again.
Before today, they hadn’t believed she really had a boyfriend. And even if they believed, they’d worried she might be fooled, or that he was some pervert with criminal tastes.
But Kitahara’s answers erased every fear.
A Tracen main campus trainer—high salary, high status, guaranteed character.
His reason for liking her: because she was his senpai, she’d helped him, and from that closeness grew affection.
And from his responses, they could see he truly had thought about their future, that he valued her deeply.
From Komata’s reactions, they could also tell—she genuinely liked this man. What was there to be dissatisfied with?
Well, if anything—his earlier answer: no marriage plans soon.
And with careers first, no time to conceive, meaning no grandchildren in the near future.
But that was fine.
They had waited this long in despair. What was a little longer?
Especially since Kitahara had noted her health issues, insisting on medical checks before children. A thoughtfulness they hadn’t expected—proving how much he cared.
Afterward, Kitahara continued chatting with them on various topics, even receiving some childhood photos of Komata.
—Photos where, honestly, she looked exactly the same as now.
At last, after long conversation, Kitahara offered to treat them to lunch. But they had other errands, so after reluctant goodbyes, they left.
Before they went, Kitahara added a patch:
“Because of what I mentioned, we don’t plan to make the relationship public yet. I hope you’ll keep it between us…”
“Of course, of course.”
Knowing some of Tracen’s circumstances from their daughter, they readily agreed, and departed happily.
Once they were far enough away, Kitahara turned to Komata, who had been hanging her head, and hesitated.
“Senpai? Are you alright?”
After a pause, she lifted her tear-bright eyes, then threw herself against him, pounding his chest with small fists and wailing.
“Uuuuhhh, how am I supposed to confess the truth to them now…?”
Hearing this, Kitahara’s face grew awkward.
He had just wanted to make the act convincing, so they wouldn’t see through it. But thinking back, maybe he had overdone it.
But that was his nature—once he did something seriously, he wouldn’t hold back.
And it was Komata who had asked him. It wasn’t as if he wanted to…
Still, he wasn’t dumb enough to explain that now. He stood quietly, letting her vent.
When her storm passed, Komata stood blank, regret flooding in.
Why had she gotten herself into this? Being pressured to marry would’ve been better!
But alongside the panic, a dangerous thought rose within her.
If… if everything Kitahara said was real… then maybe…
Almost without realizing, she whispered:
“Um… Kitahara-chan…”
“What is it, senpai?”
“Just… that, um…”
Her blush deepened, fists tightening.
“If… if I said I really…”
But halfway through her words, a familiar voice called from behind.
“Hm? Trainer Kitahara? Trainer Komata? What are you two doing here?”
Symboli Rudolf—disguised—and Hayakawa Tazuna stepped out from the corner. Their eyes fell on the pair, expressions pausing, then shifting strangely.
“You two… are you on a date?”
—
T/N: DISGUISED WHAAAAAT
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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