Daiwa Scarlet sighed softly.
“Yeah, despite winning so many races locally, he got shut out because of those ridiculous rules.”
“But I guess if not for that, I wouldn’t have met him either.”
“Anyway, why bring this up suddenly?”
Vodka shrugged.
“Just a passing thought. That spot Trainer Yasui mentioned—newbies usually don’t dare stand there; it’s unofficially reserved for veteran trainers.”
She shook her head lightly. “Honestly, I don’t know who came up with these pointless rules.”
She grinned, lifting her tray and standing up.
“I like this trainer’s style, though. So…”
“Come on. Let’s go save him a spot.”
…
Leaving the preparation room and arriving at the stands, Yasui Makoto had assumed he’d need time to find a good viewing position.
At every major racecourse, the front-most observation area had no seating—it was standing room only, first come, first served.
And trainers had an unspoken rule: prime viewing positions always went to senior trainers.
This sort of hierarchy extended even to resource distribution—private offices, special permissions, and even dormitories closer to the academy were off-limits to rookies like Yasui. That was precisely why he’d always rented a place further away.
Though aware of these rules, he hadn’t particularly cared before.
But since today’s race was scheduled later in the day, the viewing area was much more crowded than last time.
The best spots in front were already fully occupied.
Just as he was about to give up after unsuccessfully searching for a good vantage point, his phone suddenly rang. It was Daiwa Scarlet.
“Trainer Yasui, we see you. Move forward a bit more… Can you see us?”
Following her directions, Makoto quickly spotted the two Uma Musume he’d shared lunch with. Surprised yet pleased, he realized they’d saved him a space.
“Thank you both. Without your help, I’d probably have had to watch from further back.”
Gratefully, he took out his binoculars, stopwatch, and tablet from his shoulder bag.
Daiwa Scarlet was completely unfazed by this, but Vodka looked slightly surprised.
“You work during the race, Trainer Yasui?”
“Yeah. The Twinkle Series is full of unpredictability. Data often corrects or refines intuition.”
Putting on a Bluetooth earpiece, Makoto explained further:
“Recording my immediate impressions alongside precise data helps minimize intuitive errors.”
“My father taught me that.”
“He said trainers from his generation relied heavily on instinct and experience, but younger trainers like me should integrate multiple methods to better support our Uma Musume.”
Now both Vodka and Daiwa Scarlet seemed genuinely surprised.
“So your father was also a trainer, Trainer Yasui?” Daiwa Scarlet asked with curiosity.
“Just a local trainer; he never made it to Central.”
Makoto smiled lightly. “Still, many of my training methods and philosophies come from him.”
“My mother taught me a lot too. She used to race at local tracks herself.”
Exchanging glances, the two Uma Musume looked even more intrigued, their expressions warming noticeably.
“So that explains why you’re so exceptional, Trainer Yasui.”
Vodka smiled appreciatively, brushing a finger lightly beneath her nose.
“But besides your parents’ influence, I bet you also work extremely hard yourself… Ah, can I call you Yasui-kun?”
“Sure, I’m not picky about honorifics—”
Makoto’s reply was cut short as cheers erupted from the crowd and the announcement speakers blared louder.
“And now, the seventh race of the day is about to begin.”
The clear voice of a female announcer captured everyone’s attention as she began introducing one of the competitors.
“Without further ado, here comes the race favorite!”
“In her three races thus far, she’s secured first, second, and fourth-place finishes.”
“The change from 1600m turf to 2000m hasn’t diminished her strength at all. Her last race’s final three furlongs in 33.5 seconds highlight her outstanding late kick.”
“It’s Crushing Raise!”
The cheers intensified as, on the giant screen across from the stands, a black-haired Uma Musume walked confidently down the runway, dressed in a short-sleeve sports shirt, shorts, and an athletic jacket draped casually over her shoulders.
With a bold wave, she dramatically tossed her jacket aside.
After the announcer finished listing her details, Crushing Raise bowed gracefully, picked up her jacket from where she’d tossed it, and disappeared backstage.
This was the customary “pre-race introduction” for every race.
Makoto had watched this many times before while studying past races, including the last one.
But today, an unexpected curiosity struck him.
Turning slightly, he saw the two Uma Musume next to him enthusiastically discussing something.
“1 minute 36.3, 1 minute 38.2, 1 minute 34.8… That’s pretty inconsistent performance.”
“Probably why her trainer switched her from mile to middle-distance races.”
“I suppose so… Still, that late kick’s impressive: 33.2, 34.3, 33.5. Honestly feels better than mine was during my debut.”
“Well, it’s been years. The juniors naturally get stronger, you know.”
Finishing her sentence, Daiwa Scarlet’s gaze shifted as she noticed Makoto watching them.
“Is something the matter, Yasui-kun…? It’s okay for me to call you that too, right?”
“Of course, please do. And I—”
He hesitated, then shook his head, pretending to focus on organizing data.
“No, nothing. I suddenly forgot what I wanted to ask. Must not be important.”
In reality, he’d been about to ask if Uma Musume ever felt awkward throwing away their jackets during introductions, only to pick them back up afterward.
But on second thought, if it truly was awkward, asking about it would only make things worse.
So, pretending for a moment longer, he genuinely began to reorganize his data, anticipating Kitasan Black’s entrance instead.
Quite some time later, the announcer finally called out the black-haired girl’s name.
“With an exhilarating final sprint, she secured a spectacular victory in her debut race.”
“Appearing now for her second race—also the second official race for her trainer.”
“Despite competing alongside more experienced seniors, this energetic rookie duo shows no sign of backing down.”
“Kitasan Black!”
“Let’s see what kind of dazzling performance this cheerful girl will give us today!”
Makoto instinctively raised his head, a proud smile forming on his lips.
A moment later, his smile froze.
Beside him, Vodka’s delighted exclamation of “Oh, Kitasan’s finally here!” abruptly cut off, her expression stiffening.
Looking as if she didn’t recognize the Uma Musume on the screen, Daiwa Scarlet quickly turned her head away, suddenly very interested in the scenery elsewhere.
Giggles and murmurs of amusement quickly spread through the audience around them.
“What’s with this girl… Who zips up their jacket all the way during the introduction?”
“Wait, did her zipper get stuck? She looks like she’s having trouble taking it off…”
“Hahaha, this is hilarious! What’s her name again? I need to follow her after this—too funny!”
Hearing the chuckles ripple around him, noticing even Vodka now pretending to whistle while looking elsewhere, Makoto helplessly glanced around, wishing desperately for a hole to crawl into.
What else could he do when his own Uma Musume stood flustered and bright red on stage, frantically trying—and failing—to unzip her jacket?
This…
…This really is too embarrassing.
—
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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