When Almond Eye previously mentioned wanting him as her trainer, Yasui Makoto had considered an assigned trainer contract.
Breaking beyond the limitations of short and mile-distance races, moving toward longer distances—he felt this was very achievable.
From memory, Almond Eye’s performances from mile to mid-distance were outstanding, even phenomenal.
Even setting aside these impressions, her performance during the previous school event—and the attention afterward—made it clear.
Uma Musume who had yet to enter Honkaku-ka weren’t usually trained intensely, typically only racing distances around 1000m or 1200m.
Almond Eye’s results in those short sprints weren’t bad—she ranked among the top in her class—but certainly couldn’t be considered the absolute best of her peers.
Usually, such a situation meant either a lack of specialized training, preventing full realization of her talent, or that her race distances weren’t sufficient, meaning her body couldn’t fully accelerate. Consequently, her final-stretch speed—especially her late kick—remained underutilized.
Given the previous race’s final straight, Almond Eye clearly fell into the latter category.
Now combined with his prior impressions, Yasui could practically confirm that her true potential was meant for races longer than 1200m—perhaps even significantly longer.
Since she had entered Honkaku-ka already, maybe it was time to approach her family about this, Yasui thought silently as he appraised Almond Eye.
While Yasui was lost in contemplation, Almond Eye herself suddenly realized her parents had indeed mentioned something about scheduling a checkup at the hospital recently.
She hadn’t taken it seriously at the time—after all, she didn’t feel sick or uncomfortable at all. Only now did she understand that the appointment was probably related to entering Honkaku-ka.
As she realized this, she answered Kitasan absent-mindedly while subtly glancing at Yasui-san.
Yasui noticed Almond Eye’s glance, and just as he was about to ask for confirmation, something in his peripheral vision caught his attention.
From the figure alone, it appeared to be a girl—but the strange part was her outfit.
Right now, it was sweltering August, already hot even at just past 9 a.m., yet the girl was covered head-to-toe. She wore a cap, large sunglasses, and a mask, along with a thin, long-sleeved jacket.
Her lower half was equally well-covered—long, pale-blue jeans wrapped around her legs, although she wore open-toed sandals.
Kitasan and the others also noticed this oddly dressed girl approaching. Curious, Kitasan stared at her, only to find that the mysterious girl was headed straight toward her. She was momentarily stunned.
The approaching girl’s figure and presence seemed somehow familiar, making Kitasan even more puzzled.
“Um… Excuse me, but who are—”
“…It’s me.”
A muffled, low voice came from beneath the mask as the girl slightly lowered her sunglasses, revealing eyes with distinctive violet-blue gradients.
“Ah! Duramen-chan—mmmph…?!”
Just as Kitasan recognized this “girl” was actually Duramente and blurted out her name, her mouth was quickly covered.
“Shh—shhh!!”
A finger urgently raised before her masked lips, eyes filled with embarrassment above dark glasses, Duramente glanced nervously at Yasui-san and the others, shifting her gaze side-to-side.
“Keep it down, Kita-chan… Can… can we go talk somewhere else?”
…
A short while later, in the corner of the uppermost viewing stands.
With a perplexed expression, Kitasan stared at Duramente, who had now removed her cap and sunglasses. Her mouth twitched awkwardly.
“So… you had an argument with your family about running in the Kikuka Sho, and today you secretly ran away from home to watch the Dream Trophy…?”
“Yeah, exactly.”
Duramente nodded seriously. “I promised you before, Kita-chan. So I’ll definitely be there for the Kikuka Sho.”
“But… but…”
Kitasan’s feelings became complicated.
Of course, she remembered their promise to compete again together.
But just as vividly, she also remembered clearly the day they met—how Duramente said she would become the strongest Uma Musume, and her family’s goal of the “Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe.”
Afterward, Kitasan had researched the Arc and asked Yasui-san about it. She’d learned that it was one of the highest-level G1 races in the world.
Many senpai had challenged that race throughout history, but until now, the best result any of them achieved was second place.
Yasui-san had said that Japanese Uma Musume were every bit as talented as their counterparts around the world—in fact, Uma Musume’s talent had no regional differences.
She believed him fully, and precisely because of that, she felt that any senpai who managed to win the Arc would truly have the right to call herself “the strongest.”
She’d never expected Duramente to give up that dream—let alone that it might be because of her.
If Duramen-chan really abandoned the Arc and even fought terribly with her family because of me… what should I do…?
Anxiously biting her lip, Kitasan met Duramente’s serious gaze for a moment before unconsciously glancing at Yasui-san, then at Almond Eye, who just seemed confused.
The box seats weren’t large, and aside from the two of them, only Yasui-san and Almond Eye were present.
Silence Suzuka and Rice Shower seemed to have anticipated something like this, or maybe they hadn’t—anyway, on the way here, both senpai had excused themselves, claiming they wanted to cheer for their friends.
Seeing Kitasan’s pleading, helpless gaze turned toward him, Yasui-san felt a headache coming on.
He had also heard Duramente’s explanation, and compared to Kitasan, he understood far more.
Previously, Air Groove had mentioned to him during casual chats that both her family and Duramente’s held the Arc in extremely high regard.
In fact, the entire Japanese racing scene held this European G1 as nearly sacred. Almost every talented Uma Musume or trainer seriously considered the Arc, and many had actually attempted the overseas challenge.
Yet, not just in recent decades—but looking forward years, even decades—no Japanese Uma Musume had yet conquered that challenge.
Instead of dampening enthusiasm, repeated defeats only intensified Japanese fans’ near-obsession with the Arc.
Every time an Uma Musume announced plans to challenge it, excitement and buzz would sweep the community. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say they’d grown a bit obsessed.
Given this background, Yasui had a good idea of Kitasan’s concerns—and also understood that it wasn’t his place to intervene recklessly.
He certainly couldn’t just bluntly tell Duramente, “Forget it. You’d just embarrass yourself in the Arc anyway.”
Furthermore, given Duramente’s obvious state of running away from home, he felt obligated to at least inform Air Groove about it.
Yet she apparently already knew.
A message from Air Groove just moments ago still lingered clearly in his mind:
“Duramente’s probably with you, right, Yasui? She used my credit card to reserve seats at the track. I asked the staff, and they said you and Kitasan headed over there. Please keep an eye on her, don’t let her slip away, and don’t let her know I already found out. I’m counting on you. Please, PLEASE.”
From the frantic tone of the message alone, Yasui could practically see Air Groove rubbing her forehead, at her absolute wits’ end.
Thinking back to that message and turning over the situation repeatedly, Yasui’s mind suddenly flashed with an idea.
“…It’s admirable to keep your promises, but decisions about future races need careful thought.”
“Still, Duramente-san, you’ve probably been training intensively these days too, right? Today, just think of it as taking a break. Training too hard without rest can cause all kinds of problems.”
Subtly giving her a hint, Yasui glanced out toward the track, smoothly changing the subject.
“Let’s relax and enjoy watching the race first.”
—
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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