After a few comfortable days of rest and recovery, Kitasan Black threw herself back into campus life.
Classes every day, right on time—soaking up knowledge with earnest focus.
After school, straight to the training grounds, sweating it out on the track and following Yasui Makoto’s guidance.
And when she had free time, she’d meet up with friends to hang out, or just laugh and talk about nothing in particular.
But even inside that familiar routine, her thoughts kept drifting back to a few days ago—to what Oguri Cap had said.
“A reason you absolutely have to win… I think it matters. At least, that’s how I feel.”
“It might sound selfish, but after so many races, I’ve started to realize… sometimes you need a reason that belongs only to you.”
“I’m… probably pretty dumb, honestly.”
“A lot of the time I have things I want to say, but I don’t know how. Or I don’t even know what it is I’m trying to say. So it’s not other people’s fault. It’s my problem.”
“If I can’t put it into words, then even if everyone cares about me, they won’t know how to help. And that feeling… it’s pretty lonely.”
“Even on the track—surrounded by so many strong rivals—it’s lonely.”
“Maybe I’ve been lucky. I’ve always had a reason of my own.”
“For me… as long as I can run—as long as I’m running—I’m happy. I feel lucky.”
“That’s my reason. That’s what I wanted to tell you.”
“Is it hard to understand? Sorry. I’m not very good at talking. Me suddenly saying all this… I guess it’s because you always look happy every day. And when you race, you probably look happy too.”
“That’s good. If you can keep running like that… that’s good.”
By the time her senpai finished that rambling little speech, dessert was already done.
Kitasan Black understood how the desserts were made—but those words left her confused.
These past few days, she’d kept thinking about a “reason that belongs only to me,” and she’d begun to sense it: she’d always been missing that pure drive to run for herself.
If she traced it back, her original reason for wanting to become an Umamusume had been seeing the idol she admired—cutting across the track like a gale, dazzling and fearless. That image had planted the seed of a dream in her heart.
Later, she’d promised Dia-chan they’d apply to Tracen together. Crown-chan, Rickey-chan, her family’s support—each of those became fuel to move forward.
And after she’d been lucky enough to get into Tracen, she’d met Yasui Makoto. She’d met Dura-chan, Musee-chan—companions who were friends and rivals all at once. All of that, woven together, became her reason to keep running.
But now, when she quieted down and really thought about it—if she stripped away those external things, if the world were reduced to just herself, alone… what, exactly, would she be running for?
Because it was fun? Running was fun.
But the “fun” she felt didn’t seem to match what Oguri Cap meant.
Her mind returned to the way Oguri Cap had looked when she said, “As long as I can run, I’m happy.” And suddenly Kitasan Black realized—there’d been something special in that gaze.
Like pure, crystal-clear water: bright, immaculate, without a speck of impurity. Utterly, terrifyingly pure.
Looking into that gaze, you could almost feel it—if the whole world were reduced to a single thing called “running,” that purity would still remain, forever.
The resolve and love inside it… Kitasan Black realized she’d never seen it in anyone else.
No—she had.
All at once, she remembered her grandpa when he talked about music. His eyes had been the same—so pure it made your chest ache, filled with a devotion that ran all the way to the soul.
Come to think of it, only Grandpa had eyes like that.
Even Dad, even Grandpa’s prized disciples—when they talked about music, it still didn’t measure up to Grandpa.
“So whether it’s running, or music…”
Without realizing it, Kitasan Black lifted her chin slightly, murmuring to herself as she thought.
“It has to be pure—so, so pure…”
Class had been over for a while now, and there was hardly anyone on the main campus road.
Golden leaves drifted down from the trees in the autumn breeze, and her quiet murmur scattered with the wind.
Then her ears twitched.
From beneath a nearby tree, like a clear spring bubbling up, came the warm, winding sound of a violin.
Having grown up steeped in music, she recognized it instantly: whoever was playing had serious skill. She couldn’t help looking over.
Under the tree stood an Umamusume with long brown hair, poised and elegant.
Her posture was light. The violin in her hands looked like a treasure, cradled with gentle care.
The bow danced across the strings, each note seeming to be breathed into life.
As she played, she stared ahead in rapture, speaking with deep emotion—
“Ah… sublime. Simply sublime. At the Kikuka Sho concert, I heard your beautiful melody.”
“Too sublime!”
With that, she turned a blazing, appreciative gaze on Kitasan Black.
“I am Sounds of Earth, and I’m honored to meet you, Kitasan Black.”
Her voice overflowed with passion, brimming with boundless energy.
Kitasan Black froze. Faced with that feverish stare, she took a reflexive step back and stammered,
“Th-thank you—um, I…”
Before she could finish, the Umamusume named Sounds of Earth casually lowered her bow and lifted the violin from her neck.
Then, as if she meant to embrace the entire world, she spread her arms and strode toward Kitasan Black with an elegant—yet ridiculously exaggerated—grace.
Kitasan Black was even more bewildered now. Sounds of Earth had clearly stopped playing, yet the violin in her hands still poured out that rich, beautiful music, as if invisible fingers were still plucking the strings.
“A race is an ensemble performed by the Earth and Umamusume alike. Every Umamusume is a great musician.”
As she delivered those absurdly dramatic lines, Sounds of Earth pressed closer, step by step.
“And you, Kitasan Black—like me—are one of the greatest performers of this generation.”
Faced with that inexplicable enthusiasm—and that closing distance—Kitasan Black’s mouth twitched. She backed up again on instinct.
Suddenly her back tightened. Out of the corner of her eye she realized—she was against a tree.
And when she turned her head back, Sounds of Earth was already right in front of her.
Smack.
Sounds of Earth planted one hand on the tree trunk beside Kitasan Black’s head.
She gazed into Kitasan Black’s eyes with a look of aching devotion. Her voice was soft, her tone feverish—like she was confessing the most moving love in the world.
“Come. Let’s play a beautiful melody together.”
“As long as I’m with you, we can become soaring masters of performance at Nakayama!”
As she spoke, her face leaned closer and closer, until Kitasan Black could feel the warmth of her breath.
—
T/N: ehuheuheuhe
sounds of earth
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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