The evening after Kitasan Black’s joint practice with Daiwa Scarlet—
“Ehh?! My ideal style is being a front-runner?!”
In the nearly empty dance hall, Kitasan shouted in surprise.
“Then why did you have me run from the back during my debut race, Trainer…?”
Sitting cross-legged opposite her, Yasui Makoto was silently scrolling through his tablet. Before he could respond, Daiwa Scarlet, who’d been examining the resistance band Kitasan had used, spoke up casually:
“He was thinking about your future, Kitasan.”
“My future…? What do you mean, Daiwa-senpai?”
Kitasan looked at Daiwa Scarlet in confusion.
“Wait…Trainer Yasui hasn’t reviewed your debut race with you yet?”
Daiwa Scarlet shot Kitasan a startled glance, then gave Yasui an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry, that was careless of me—I shouldn’t interfere with your training schedule.”
“No, it’s fine. I intended to explain everything after today’s joint practice anyway.”
Yasui reassured her casually, then turned the tablet screen toward Kitasan.
“Kitasan, you learned the basics of front-running in class, right?”
“Yes!” Kitasan eagerly raised her hand, confident in her answer. “It’s a style where you immediately sprint at full speed from the start, quickly taking the lead and maintaining that advantage all the way to the finish line! Did I get it right, Trainer?”
“Very good,” Yasui said, nodding with a gentle smile. He then added, “This style requires strong initial acceleration, excellent sustained speed, and—crucially—a sense of rhythm. When you’re alone at the front, if you can’t accurately sense how far and long you’ve run, or how much farther you have to go, you’ll struggle to manage your stamina properly.”
“Do you remember what I told you when we first started training?”
“Hehehe…my gait was a mess and my sense of rhythm was terrible…”
Kitasan scratched her head sheepishly. Then, her eyes suddenly brightened in realization.
“Wait! Does that mean back then…you already knew what racing style suited me best?! And you specifically arranged my training to match?!”
At those words, shock flashed through Daiwa Scarlet’s eyes. She turned in disbelief toward Yasui.
Basic rhythm training usually happens just after signing the initial contract.
And if I remember correctly, Tachyon-senpai said these two didn’t know each other at all beforehand…
Yet he figured out Kitasan’s ideal running style and tailored her training from day one…?
What kind of monster trainer is this?!
Daiwa Scarlet couldn’t help but be astonished. Choosing a racing style was complicated, involving factors such as physique, stamina, speed, strength, acceleration, and endurance. Even veteran trainers didn’t dare claim they could determine a rookie’s ideal style at a single glance—it typically required extensive training and actual races to make such judgments. Some trainers only found the best approach after a year or two, even for exceptionally talented Uma Musume.
She’d seen countless examples herself, including close friends and acquaintances. Yet, this young trainer had done it instantly…?
While Daiwa Scarlet quietly marveled, Yasui patiently continued explaining to Kitasan.
“To be precise, at that time it was more of a hypothesis.”
“I reviewed nearly ten years of academy records and carefully assessed your burst speed and stamina, both of which were already exceptional for a rookie. Given that, considering a front-runner or stalker approach was natural.”
“As for why front-running suits you better, that’s because…”
He hesitated briefly.
“Your late kick isn’t good.”
“Late kick…”
Repeating the term, Kitasan glanced down at her legs, then instinctively looked toward Daiwa Scarlet.
“Sorry, Kitasan. My late kick isn’t good either.”
Daiwa Scarlet openly admitted her weakness and shrugged lightly.
“But back in my racing days, I never needed a strong late kick to win. Except when I faced—
Ahem…anyway—”
Suddenly coughing awkwardly, she quickly changed the topic.
“Late kick is a special ability. It lets an Uma Musume channel all remaining stamina into a burst of incredible speed in the final stretch.”
“Theoretically, every racing style would benefit from this ability, but unfortunately, not everyone is gifted with it. By comparison, front-runners rely more on positioning. Even with a weaker late kick, gaining an early lead can often be enough to secure victory.”
“Your initial burst speed, your acceleration within shorter distances, and your ability to maintain high speed are already quite impressive. However, your strength control still isn’t developed enough to even discuss a proper late kick.”
“So, overall, front-running or advanced stalking styles suit you best.”
“Ah…I got carried away again. This is something Trainer Yasui should’ve explained…”
She gave an embarrassed smile.
“It’s alright, it doesn’t matter who explains it,” Yasui said easily, smiling back at Daiwa Scarlet. He then addressed Kitasan seriously:
“Scarlet-san is correct. Your ideal style is front-running, followed by aggressive front-running , stalking, or versatile stalking. In other words, the tactic we used in your debut wasn’t actually the optimal one for you. It carried significant risks, and I was prepared for the possibility that you might lose that race.”
“Lose…my debut?”
Kitasan looked bewildered.
“But…how could that be? I felt really comfortable running back then, and I won!”
“That proves my judgment was correct, and you didn’t let me down.”
Yasui chuckled softly, then continued his explanation:
“Before the debut, your rhythm control had improved sufficiently, and your burst speed and endurance were already excellent. At debut level, you and your opponents generally lacked refined racing skills. In my assessment, forcing a breakthrough from behind with sustained acceleration was still enough to win.”
“But this was precisely where the risk lay. Had you misjudged timing, gotten stuck in traffic, or failed to break through the pack, I would’ve been helpless.”
“Yet it was a calculated risk.”
“In future races, you won’t always be able to lead from start to finish. Eventually, you’ll face situations where you’re overtaken. But the more important the race, the less you can afford to adapt to that pressure on the spot.”
“The debut and the next few races are different—winning or losing at this stage matters less. Even legendary Uma Musume have lost early races.”
“Therefore, establishing adaptability early on—even at the risk of losing—was worth it.”
Yasui’s tone became more serious.
“But don’t misunderstand—I’m not saying you can lose casually from now on. Your next opponents aren’t inexperienced rookies. I’ll make necessary tactical adjustments based on their data.”
“I didn’t explain this thoroughly before because you lacked experience. But going forward, I’ll gradually explain more and more, and you’ll need to try and understand these details carefully, Kitasan.”
Without hesitation, Kitasan nodded resolutely.
“Yes! Like I promised, no matter what you instruct, Trainer, I’ll always listen carefully and follow it precisely!”
At her response, both Yasui and Daiwa Scarlet exchanged pleased smiles.
Afterward, Daiwa Scarlet quietly observed Yasui as he began detailing their next training session.
…Even losing your debut is acceptable if it leads to greater benefits down the line.
The logic itself wasn’t strange, but he’d stated it so casually—and actually put it into practice in his Uma Musume’s very first race…
This trainer really is a monster.
—
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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