Having understood his Uma Musume’s resolve, Yasui Makoto paused briefly, considering Satono Crown’s current performance data for comparison.
In her debut race, 1800 meters on turf, she clocked 1 minute and 50 seconds—an average speed of 16.36 m/s.
Her closing three furlongs were covered in 33.5 seconds, nearly reaching 18 m/s.
Her second race, another 1800-meter turf event, was even faster: 1 minute 47.9 seconds, averaging 16.68 m/s.
However, her closing section slowed slightly to 38 seconds, probably due to maintaining a higher cruising speed, which had impacted her stamina for the final sprint.
For a newly debuted Uma Musume, this level was undoubtedly impressive, especially compared to recent Satsuki Sho results.
Purely considering finishing times, champions of the Satsuki Sho over the past five years generally finished around 1 minute 58 seconds to 2 minutes for 2000 meters.
The slowest recent winner was Gold Ship two years ago, finishing in 2:01.3, averaging 16.48 m/s.
Given Satono Crown achieved 16.36 and even 16.68 m/s in Pre-OP races—the lowest tier—it clearly marked her as a prime candidate for the Satsuki Sho title.
In comparison, Kitasan Black’s recent average speed in training hovered around 15-plus, occasionally peaking around 16.2.
Perhaps secretly comparing these figures herself was why she felt pressured.
However, Yasui didn’t explain these figures explicitly to Kitasan.
Compared to training, races were far more complicated affairs.
Weather, track conditions, spectators, daily form, competition, and overall atmosphere—each factor could significantly affect results.
If race outcomes were determined by predictions alone, there would be no point in actually running; one could just announce the predictions and hand out prizes.
To genuinely secure victory, the trainer and Uma Musume had to work closely together, constantly maintaining mutual trust and understanding.
With that in mind, Yasui Makoto completed Kitasan’s registration while explaining his reasoning.
“One race per month is the ideal pacing, so I’ve arranged things accordingly up to the Satsuki Sho.”
“I chose the Spring Stakes for a straightforward reason. The Yayoi Sho is on March 8th, which is too early.”
“The Spring Stakes is on the 22nd, giving us more preparation time.”
“The Wakaba Stakes isn’t ideal since it’s held at Hanshin Racecourse in Kansai.”
“The Satsuki Sho itself is at Nakayama Racecourse, which, like Tokyo Racecourse, is in the Tokyo metropolitan area. Their tracks are relatively similar—certainly closer than Hanshin.”
“Generally, Uma Musume from eastern Japan choose either Yayoi Sho or Spring Stakes at Nakayama, rather than Wakaba Stakes.”
After carefully reviewing classic-line basics with his Uma Musume, Yasui noticed Kitasan’s expression brighten with newfound clarity. Shifting the topic, he remarked:
“But all this is more than two months away. Right now, you should focus on your upcoming debut race.”
“Got it! I’ll do my best!”
She responded reflexively, vigorously nodding, before suddenly pausing.
“Wait…‘upcoming?’”
“Didn’t you check the schedule? It’s this Saturday.”
Yasui indicated the information on his tablet.
“In my opinion, your current condition is fully adequate for your debut, so no point in delaying. Saturday it is.”
“Tokyo Racecourse, turf, 1800 meters—race five.”
“That’s officially your debut race.”
…
On the morning of race day, Yasui, for the first time, seriously considered requesting accommodation in the trainer dormitories at the academy.
Perhaps every Japan in every timeline was the same—seniority and experience always determined such privileges.
New trainers like himself had no chance of living in the academy dorms, no matter how well they performed in their assessments. Those rooms were strictly reserved for seniors.
Previously, Yasui hadn’t cared where he lived; he disliked unnecessary social contact anyway.
Yet today was his Uma Musume’s first race—there was no way he could remain calm or indifferent. He was eager to see how Kitasan would perform.
Despite his impatience, he forced himself through a careful routine: washing up, eating breakfast, packing race essentials, before finally descending to his motorbike, strapping on his helmet, and setting off for Tracen Academy.
Central Tracen Academy and Tokyo Racecourse were both in Fuchu, in the western part of Tokyo’s 23 wards, only a few kilometers apart.
Unless special arrangements were made, race-day Uma Musume and their trainers usually traveled by academy-provided buses.
Kitasan was already waiting at the academy parking lot entrance, accompanied by another Uma Musume with light brown hair and soft golden eyes—whom Yasui quickly recognized from his research as the younger Satono sister, Kitasan’s roommate, Satono Diamond.
However, his gaze soon turned puzzled as it fell on Kitasan’s feet.
Today, Kitasan wore her usual racing attire—a scarlet jacket and matching pants—but she had already switched into running shoes.
The problem was…
“Kita-chan, did you not feel something was off with your shoes when you left the dorm?”
“Good morning, Trainer-sa—eh? My shoes? No, they feel fin—wait, huh?! Why are they on the wrong feet?!”
Today was race day at Tokyo Racecourse, with twelve races scheduled throughout the day, each averaging around fifteen participants. In total, over two hundred Uma Musume from Central Tracen Academy would compete.
Thus, many students had already gathered near the parking lot, dressed in their racing attire. Standing next to them were friends, like Satono Diamond, who had come along to support.
Kitasan’s startled exclamation quickly attracted attention, and several passing Uma Musume glanced curiously at her footwear, soon giggling behind their hands.
“Oh no… I’m s-so sorry, Trainer-san! I’ll find somewhere to change them right away—”
Face flushed with embarrassment, Kitasan quickly turned to run off.
Satono Diamond looked surprised and somewhat guilty as well.
“Kita-chan, wait, let me help you… I’m terribly sorry, Yasui-san. I should’ve checked her shoes before coming out.”
While Yasui was speechless at Kitasan’s oversight, he wasn’t entirely unsympathetic.
In terms of actual age, he was technically more than twice as old as his appearance suggested, yet even he felt nervous about the upcoming race—never mind Kitasan herself.
Though Uma Musume matured differently due to their honkaku-ka phase, their emotional state at this point could still be compared roughly to a fifteen or sixteen-year-old human girl. It was perfectly understandable for her to feel anxious before her career debut.
“No need to apologize. It’s my responsibility as her trainer anyway,” Yasui quickly reassured Diamond, then raised his voice.
“Hey—Kita-chan! Don’t run off! Come back here!”
Uma Musume speed was certainly impressive. Within just a few seconds, Kitasan had already sprinted dozens of meters away.
But hearing Yasui’s call, she quickly slowed down, turned back in confusion, and awkwardly trotted back.
“I’m here, Trainer-san, but my shoes…”
“Just sit on the bike and change them there.”
He gestured gently towards the motorbike parked nearby. As Kitasan obediently sat down, Yasui calmly crouched down next to her.
“Eh?! Wait, Trainer-san, what are you—?!”
Ignoring Kitasan’s flustered exclamations, Yasui casually untied her shoelaces, carefully removing the improperly worn running shoes.
—
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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