When Yasui Makoto saw Kitasan Black early the next morning, he immediately noticed his Uma Musume seemed even more spirited than before.
After briefly asking, he learned she had received encouragement and support from a close friend. Giving her a few encouraging words himself, he quickly began today’s morning training.
They started with a jog to warm up, followed by reviewing the homework he’d assigned last night—practicing the hand gestures and sitting poses.
Once he confirmed she’d mastered those, Yasui taught her several new gestures and a particular standing posture.
“Trainer-san…this pose feels kind of weird…”
Standing balanced on one tiptoe, Kitasan suspended her other leg loosely behind her, hands dangling limply in front like a kangaroo’s paws, her head and spine straight but leaning slightly forward.
Holding this posture, she couldn’t help but feel like she was awkwardly sneaking around like a thief.
Their morning training took place on the academy’s track, surrounded by other students engaged in their own routines.
Many nearby Uma Musume glanced at Kitasan’s peculiar stance, some even covering their mouths to stifle laughter.
“Yeah, it does look odd.”
Yasui agreed nonchalantly without denying the peculiar nature of the pose.
“But so what if it’s weird? Are you planning to stop training just because of that?”
“Or are you going to be distracted by spectators during a race as well?”
Kitasan jolted upright, suddenly alert.
“Oh, that’s right… During a race, I definitely need to stay focused.”
“I understand, Trainer-san! I’ll take this seriously!”
Yasui quietly nodded in satisfaction. Once he confirmed Kitasan had refocused, he flipped open his tablet, accessing the trainer-exclusive interface.
The trainer interface connected directly to the Uma Musume’s racing account, displaying changes in follower counts.
501…about a hundred more followers than yesterday?
Seems like it’s not just industry professionals—even fans aren’t rating Kita-chan highly yet.
According to standard race procedures, once an Uma Musume signed an agreement with her trainer, the affiliated Tracen Academy immediately reported it to the URA Association, which would typically create an official racing account within one or two working days.
Upon creation, the Association, along with partner organizations, would broadcast the new Uma Musume’s profile across various platforms in real-time.
Fans could then follow any promising newcomers or Uma Musume already known from earlier achievements, interacting with them through comments, votes, or similar activities.
Compared horizontally with her contemporaries, Kitasan Black clearly wasn’t receiving a favorable pre-debut reputation.
Take that young lady from the Satono family, for instance.
Though the Satono family had only recently entered the Twinkle Series, their immense financial backing and rigorous training regimen had quickly yielded success.
Satono Crown, for example, had already amassed over 10,000 fans even before her debut.
Now, after consecutive victories, her follower count had surpassed 100,000—an important milestone since 100,000 fans was the entry threshold for races above OP level.
Without that many, an Uma Musume would be stuck competing in Pre-OP races, or be forced into dirt tracks, steeplechases, or local circuits.
By contrast, Kitasan’s follower count was just a tiny fraction of Satono Crown’s, both pre-debut and now.
But even after seeing his Uma Musume’s modest fanbase, Yasui wasn’t discouraged. He simply nodded calmly, closed the interface, and opened the training screen.
Kitasan Black wasn’t the kind of Uma Musume who struck you immediately as an unmistakable prodigy.
True prodigies were Uma Musume like Tokai Teio, whose popularity and racing achievements topped the charts from the moment of her debut, carrying her straight to victory in the Japanese Derby.
Not that his own Uma Musume lacked outstanding qualities. Many trainers had noticed Kitasan’s extraordinary strength and remarkable physique.
The problem was, turning this potential into practical racing prowess wasn’t simple—this was precisely why her evaluations had remained low since her enrollment.
Under these circumstances, it was natural for her to have few fans supporting her.
However, Yasui knew precisely how to translate this potential into tangible skill. With his methods and perspective that were years ahead of this world’s standards, he wasn’t worried at all about fans or popularity.
“Alright, that’s enough for now.”
Even while manipulating his tablet, Yasui had been closely watching Kitasan’s training. This time he’d set a precise timer, instructing her to stop exactly as the alert sounded.
“This posture, like the ones from yesterday, follows the same training routine.”
“Practice once each in the morning, afternoon, and evening. No more, no less.”
“I’ll gradually teach you the entire set of these positions. Completing them all in one session will take about half an hour.”
“Once you’ve learned the full sequence, we’ll adjust your training schedule accordingly.”
At his command, Kitasan obediently straightened her posture, stretching her arms and legs briefly, then blinked in surprise.
“Trainer-san, this training style you have… it really is strange.”
“At first, the positions felt really awkward and uncomfortable, but then I got used to it.”
“Even holding it for so long, I didn’t feel tired. This method…”
She tilted her head curiously.
“What exactly is it good for?”
Yesterday, Yasui hadn’t mentioned anything about the purpose behind these strange poses.
In truth, these postures were specialized exercises from his previous life’s intensive training—short-term use had little effect, becoming meaningful only after prolonged practice.
However, he’d already considered how to explain them. Since Kitasan had been preoccupied with the novelty yesterday, she’d forgotten to ask, and he hadn’t volunteered the explanation.
“You can think of it as a special form of body conditioning.”
He casually replied, glancing around briefly. Noticing a flowerbed nearby, Yasui signaled for the puzzled Kitasan to follow him.
Arriving by the flowerbed, he searched momentarily and picked up a flat pebble roughly the size of his fist.
“Could you…”
Holding out the pebble in front of Kitasan, Yasui paused, choosing his words carefully.
“…Break this pebble with a single punch or kick?”
“…Trainer-san, is this a joke?”
Kitasan stared at him blankly, seeing Yasui’s earnest expression, and hesitated with a troubled look.
“W-well, if it was a tile or something, kicking it apart would be easy, but something like this stone…”
“Alright then, watch closely.”
Nodding calmly, Yasui placed the pebble carefully on the edge of the flowerbed, crouching slightly as he stared intently at the stone’s midpoint.
Suddenly inhaling sharply, Yasui raised his hand, palm flat like a blade. With a low shout, he swiftly chopped downward toward the pebble’s center.
“T-Trainer-san?! You—!”
Kitasan had been uncertain while Yasui prepared, only realizing too late that her trainer was entirely serious. She cried out briefly in alarm, but quickly fell silent.
Moments later—
“Ehhh—?! It… it actually split?!”
“Yep, it split.”
Holding a half-pebble in each hand, Yasui turned toward Kitasan, his expression calm.
“My strength is far inferior to yours. But there’s no doubt my control over that strength far surpasses yours.”
“There are plenty of techniques involved in splitting this stone, but you don’t need to learn them.”
“All you need to understand is this: The postures I’m teaching you now will help you gain complete mastery over your incredibly powerful body.”
“When you finally learn to channel all your power fully into your legs and feet…”
“I promise you—no one will ever be able to match your speed.”
—
This is a fan translation of 赛马娘：从被撞飞十米开始 by 百升飞上天 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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