Without realizing it, Kitasan Black grew more and more worked up as she spoke. Excitement tinted her cheeks pink, and a fierce light kindled in her eyes.
And yet, all the while, she could see that Oguri Cap hadn’t been stirred even slightly by her emotion.
In those pale-blue eyes—looking straight at her—there was only calm, and seriousness.
For a moment, Kitasan Black didn’t know what to make of it. But faintly, she felt it: Oguri Cap was about to say something important.
The rush in her chest ebbed. She pressed her lips together, uncertainty creeping in, and asked carefully,
“So, senpai… what I said… was it wrong?”
Oguri Cap fell silent.
That brief silence seemed to freeze the air.
Then her lips curved, and a small, gentle smile appeared.
“No.”
Her voice was soft—warm as spring sunlight.
“For the people back home who support you…”
“For the rivals who give everything they have…”
“For your trainer…”
“And for the one you admire…”
She glanced toward the space beyond the kitchen, and her smile lifted again.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to win for those reasons.”
“Only…”
In an instant, an image flashed through her mind like lightning.
Like glass shattering—sharp, clear, and ringing—only for the shards to open onto something vast, a world wide enough to hold endless possibility.
Then the broken pieces flowed backward, restoring themselves as if nothing had happened at all.
And yet that world beyond the fracture lingered, almost tangible—so vivid it felt like it stood right in front of her.
Her smile faded. The calm returned, composed and steady. She looked back, meeting Kitasan Black’s gaze, her eyes filled with expectation—and inquiry.
“And you?”
“You yourself?”
“If it were only for you… do you have a reason you absolutely have to win?”
…
At the very moment Oguri Cap asked Kitasan Black that question, the mahjong table on the other side was buzzing. The topic, coincidentally, was the year-end G1.
Or rather, more precisely: a certain possibility that might appear in that race—the zone.
Yasui Makoto had spent a long time studying it, but it still felt like a thorn in his hand.
It wasn’t that he had no leads at all. The problem was that all of his progress was stuck at the level of theory—nothing concrete he could actually put into practice.
In his eyes, that was only natural. Even in his previous life—an era ahead in every measurable way—research in this area had been limited at best.
So the only thing he could do was talk. Gather every scrap he could by discussing it with Umamusume who’d experienced something like it firsthand.
From the files he’d dug up—archives, interviews, training records—he was certain the three sitting here, plus Oguri Cap in the kitchen, were all among the rare few who could reach for the zone.
So when casual chatter drifted to the Arima Kinen mid-game, he didn’t hesitate. He voiced the question he’d been holding.
The instant the word “zone” left his mouth, Inari One’s expression snapped tight.
She stared straight at Yasui, wariness edging her tone as she demanded, sharp and almost accusatory,
“Hey. Don’t tell me you’re training for the zone. You’re not seriously trying to make Kitasan Black ‘touch it,’ are you? Is that how you train her day to day?”
Yasui Makoto blinked, thrown completely off.
He’d only just met her, and at first his impression had been that she was quick-tempered—borderline explosive.
But after a few rounds of mahjong, it seemed like she only bickered with Tamamo Cross, and never with real heat. Their “fights” felt less like actual arguing and more like the way the two of them naturally interacted.
He hadn’t expected Inari One to treat the zone so seriously—so tensely—that she’d show a side of herself he hadn’t seen once all night.
His chest tightened.
Even so, when he answered, his voice stayed steady.
“Of course not. I can honestly say I’ve never even considered doing that.”
“I’ve known for a long time that something like this exists in competitive sports, and I’ve spent a lot of time trying to understand it.”
“But with what I know now, that state is… elusive. Even today there isn’t a complete, systematic theory for it—let alone a method you can train with.”
“So I’ve always believed that instead of chasing something vague and impossible to grasp, it’s better to put your energy into basic training—steadily, step by step.”
He spread his hands.
“Inari-san can check Kita-chan’s training log directly, can’t you? One look, and you’ll know I’m not lying.”
Before Inari One could respond, Tamamo Cross patted her shoulder. Half teasing, half serious, she said, “Hey, ease up. Look—you scared Yasui, my man.”
Then she turned back to him, waving a hand like it was no big deal.
“And you, Yasui, don’t take it to heart. That one’s just naturally jumpy.”
“But—she’s not wrong about what she means. And you’re doing the right thing.”
As she spoke, Tamamo Cross’s eyes sharpened, her tone turning earnest.
“The zone—we’ve all experienced it ourselves.”
“When you enter that state, your strength on the track really does go up.”
“But if you start obsessing over it, it’s honestly pointless. Completely.”
She rubbed her chin, thinking. Then her eyes brightened, and she snapped her fingers.
“Got it. It’s like that old saying—‘flowers in a mirror, the moon on water.’”
“Like the moon’s reflection. If you don’t try to grab it, it just sits there, steady and clear.”
“But the second you reach out to catch it—poof. It vanishes.”
“So yeah, Yasui, you’re right. The zone isn’t something you can master through normal training methods.”
“Better to keep your feet on the ground and train Kitasan Black properly. That’s the best way.”
With theatrical emphasis, she thrust a thumbs-up at him.
By now, the harshness in Inari One’s face had eased, leaving only seriousness behind.
After Tamamo Cross finished, Inari One nodded and said, contrite,
“Sorry. I… yeah, I got too heated.”
“But that’s what I meant.”
“And Yasui, you really don’t need to fixate on the zone, because…”
Her gaze shifted to Super Creek. At the same time, Tamamo Cross looked over as well.
“We’ve got someone right here who can win without ever touching that zone thing—win G1s, even…”
Yasui Makoto’s eyes lit up at once. He couldn’t help turning to Super Creek.
“Ah, that…”
Super Creek had been listening quietly the whole time, a gentle smile never leaving her face. Now, with everyone looking at her, she touched her cheek, a little embarrassed.
“That’s true.”
“I think, at first, I cared about the zone a lot. I even took quite a few detours because of it.”
“But I realized pretty quickly that not having the zone doesn’t mean you’re guaranteed to lose.”
“Basic speed, strength, stamina… and grit, and even thinking power. Your mindset, your tactics, your understanding with your trainer…”
“All of those can become the key to winning.”
“And…”
Her eyes turned thoughtful. She looked out beyond the room.
“A G1 I won without the zone… that would be the Tenno Sho (Autumn), actually.”
—
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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