Standing beside Yasui Makoto was an Uma Musume with golden hair, her demeanor chilly and edged faintly with authority—it was Orfevre.
When they’d decided to attend the Tenno Sho (Spring), Yasui had casually mentioned the plan to Orfevre the very next day.
Unexpectedly, she immediately declared without hesitation that she’d come along.
“It’ll be good preparation for the upcoming training race,” she’d said. “I’d like to take this chance to observe Kitasan Black.”
The reasoning sounded perfectly fine, yet recalling her exasperated face during the video call—and her near-total silence throughout the entire shinkansen ride—Yasui had quietly wondered to himself:
She couldn’t be so annoyed by Gold Ship’s antics that she deliberately came here, could she…?
Thinking carefully, he decided that was probably exactly what had happened.
After all, she’d shown concern even before returning to Japan, while Gold Ship had been busy playing mahjong a week before the race—anyone would feel irritated.
Of course, sulking to the point of refusing to even see her sister face-to-face was hardly a mature attitude either.
As these thoughts drifted through his mind, Yasui couldn’t help but mutter quietly to himself.
Compared to his memories, many things in this world aligned yet weren’t exactly the same.
Moreover, largely due to his influence, certain details had clearly shifted.
The Satsuki Sho, for example—even though the victory had been precariously close, the outcome had indeed changed.
If that was the case, would this altered result of the Satsuki Sho ripple out and affect other events…?
Or even if it didn’t, if Gold Ship got annoyed by Orfevre’s awkward behavior, then this Tenno Sho…
She wouldn’t pull some strange stunt, would she…?
Muttering silently for a moment, Yasui quickly decided not to overthink things.
Even if there was some shift in the world’s timeline, it wasn’t something he could control.
Rather than worrying about hypothetical nonsense, it was far more important to have Kitasan learn something valuable from today’s race.
…
They arrived in Kyoto on Friday night. With the G1 race about to begin and the weekend upon them, the bustling yet elegantly historical city was vibrant with excitement.
Having booked the hotel well in advance, they quickly dropped off their luggage, then toured the city under Orfevre’s experienced guidance.
At night, countless goldfish lanterns floated gently along the Kamo River.
At dawn, mist curled softly around Fushimi Inari Shrine.
Under the afternoon sun, Kiyomizu Temple’s pagoda pierced high into a cloudless sky.
At dusk, Arashiyama’s bamboo forest rolled in a tide of green waves.
And beneath moonlight, Yasaka Shrine’s rows of lanterns glowed brightly, arrayed like disciplined soldiers…
Promotional videos for the upcoming race played on LED screens everywhere, and images of the participating Uma Musume stood at nearly every street corner.
Many tourists carried pamphlets about the Tenno Sho (Spring), enthusiastically discussing their favorite contestants.
Swept up in the atmosphere, when the Uma Musume visited shrines, temples, or set floating lanterns adrift on the river, the prayers and whispers leaving their lips were blessings meant for their racing senpai.
Yasui Makoto also prayed and made his wishes quietly. As he did so, he noticed Orfevre discreetly toss a coin toward the ema prayer wall, her gaze flickering briefly toward a large poster of Gold Ship.
Ah, so she does care after all. Honestly, why can’t she just admit it openly…?
Amused, Yasui wisely said nothing.
As one of the particularly prestigious G1 races, the Tenno Sho (Spring) was scheduled today as the penultimate event, the 11th race.
Having watched the morning races and eaten lunch at the venue, the group went to the Uma Musume lounge to encourage Gold Ship before the big race.
Daiwa Scarlet, Vodka, and Special Week also showed up, as did Tokai Teio and Mejiro McQueen, who’d previously said they’d be too busy but still made time to come by.
Even Silence Suzuka, whom Yasui had only seen previously through a smartphone screen, had returned to Japan as promised, coming especially to support her junior.
With over a dozen Uma Musume gathered, the lounge—which was spacious enough at first—quickly felt crowded. The spirited cheering, mixed with laughter and teasing, made the space rather noisy.
Gold Ship, completely unaffected, exuberantly returned their enthusiasm, confidently declaring in a loud voice:
“Relax, everyone! Today’s Great Golshi-sama is in absolutely perfect form! I promise you’ll see an unforgettable, thoroughly entertaining race!”
In stark contrast to the noisy cheerfulness here, Orfevre stood slightly apart, arms crossed, occasionally glancing coldly in Gold Ship’s direction.
Two Uma Musume stood beside her.
One petite girl with chain-framed glasses, and another in a knit cap, lazily sucking on a lollipop.
Observing Gold Ship’s excitement, the petite Uma Musume nudged up her glasses, casting a sidelong glance at Orfevre.
“So…Frev, you’re really not planning to go say anything to Golshi?”
“She’s about to race—what’s there to say at this point?”
Arms still folded, Orfevre flicked another glance toward Gold Ship before looking pointedly at the lollipop-sucking Uma Musume.
“And even if I were to say something, shouldn’t Festa be the one doing it? She seemed awfully happy playing mahjong with that idiot just a few days ago.”
The lollipop-sucking Uma Musume choked slightly.
“…Oi, Frev, are you serious right now? I was happily playing mahjong with Taishin-senpai—it was Golshi who jumped in out of nowhere! Why are you blaming me all of a sudden?”
“You could’ve told her to go train, couldn’t you?” Orfevre retorted icily.
“Didn’t I say that?! Hey, Dream Journey, didn’t I?”
Festa shot back a glare, turning her gaze toward the petite Uma Musume with glasses.
“Dream-nee, back me up—didn’t I tell Golshi to get her ass back to proper training?”
Faced with the clearly brewing argument between these two, Dream Journey appeared entirely accustomed to their bickering.
Adjusting her glasses calmly, she tilted her head toward the entrance of the lounge.
“If neither of you have anything constructive to say to Golshi right now, then…”
“Golshi’s recent gate training hasn’t gone smoothly—surely you two haven’t missed that?”
“Stop standing around idly. Go help Old Man and Big Sis first.”
With that firm remark, Dream Journey straightened her collar and headed purposefully toward the cheerful chaos surrounding Gold Ship.
Orfevre and Nakayama Festa, who’d just been glaring defiantly at each other, simultaneously deflated the moment “Old Man and Big Sis” were mentioned, their bravado abruptly vanishing.
Exchanging no further words, they kept a subtle distance from each other, heading silently toward the lounge exit.
Just as they were about to leave, both girls turned instinctively back toward Dream Journey, now standing quietly beside the slightly more settled Gold Ship.
“…Don’t worry too much. If it’s Dream-nee, Golshi will at least listen a bit.”
Nakayama Festa suddenly spoke, removing the lollipop from her mouth and sighing lightly.
“Besides…even if Golshi’s ideas tend to be weird most of the time, when it really counts, she’s still someone you can rely on, right?”
Pausing briefly, Orfevre resumed walking silently. After a moment, she let out a quiet sigh.
“Let’s just hope she realizes the Tenno Sho (Spring) counts as ‘when it really counts’… I mean, a certain someone.”
—
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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