I have a friend.
Kitahara Sota glanced at the Chairwoman’s face—at best, the face of a middle-schooler—and gave a small nod.
Mm. A classic excuse.
Though he very much wanted to reply with, “There’s no one else here.” Or, “This friend you speak of… could it be yourself?” A reenactment of a classic scene.
But considering the Chairwoman was his boss, and the one holding his salary in her tiny hands, he decided against courting death. He gave a proper, measured reply.
“I can try. But I can’t guarantee success.”
Honestly, if it had been anyone else—even Komata Hajime—he would never have agreed.
Not because he didn’t want to help a senior. But because he knew his abilities.
Observation, nursing, and a handful of other strange skills—these only truly worked on Uma Musume. On humans… they didn’t do nothing, but the effect was negligible.
As for the Chairwoman and Tazuna…
Their existence was special.
Inside the academy, debates had long swirled over whether Akikawa Yayoi and Hayakawa Tazuna were actually Uma Musume.
After all, in many ways, they seemed very much like them.
Their fondness for carrot products. Their frankly absurd physical abilities. Even their aura, the “feeling” they gave—closer to horse girls than humans.
But the problem was—Tazuna had been at Tracen for years. There was no way she always wore that green hat. She had been seen without it.
And when she was, people noticed: despite being able to chase down full-speed top-class Uma Musume, despite overpowering even trained athletes, she had no ears atop her head.
And yet—at certain times, some swore they’d glimpsed them. In her shadow. Ears. Even a tail swaying behind.
But the rumor was too outlandish. And neither the Chairwoman nor Tazuna had ever addressed it. So it was quietly forgotten.
Kitahara had wondered too. But he never dug deeper.
He only wanted a calm, steady life. Knowing too much only drew trouble.
But even so—after last night’s nursing—he had found his answer.
They were neither human nor Uma Musume, but something in between.
No ears, no tail, outwardly identical to humans. Yet inwardly closer to horse girls, and physically far beyond the average Uma Musume.
Why? What exactly were they?
Kitahara neither knew, nor wanted to know.
Because whatever it was, it smelled of wide entanglements. Perhaps even linked to the Three Goddesses. And a slacker trainer like him wouldn’t dare step near it.
Knowing this much was already dangerous. Any deeper, and tomorrow he’d probably end up as part of Tokyo Bay’s infrastructure.
Still—though he could do nothing for Komata Hajime, being human—but for the Chairwoman, he can try.
So after some thought, he agreed. But made it clear: only after this busy stretch was done, when he had time.
Yayoi knew how to weigh priorities. She’d lived like this for years already. She wasn’t in a rush. After thanking him, she let him go.
And so, time slid onward with everyone’s movements.
…
A few days later.
Outside Tracen, in the shopping street.
Kitahara sat in a café, staring at a coffee that had long gone cold. His expression faintly wistful.
Across from him sat the one who caused it: Tracen’s executioner, the trainers’ savior, the students’ terror, the Green Devil herself—Hayakawa Tazuna.
But today she was not dressed in her trademark green secretary’s outfit.
Instead: white shirt with a casual jacket, shorts with sneakers, black over-the-knee socks, a baseball cap. Even her hair, usually bound, now left loose.
Like this, forget the Green Devil—add ears and a tail, and anyone would believe she was a student herself.
Why this outfit?
A few days prior, during patrol group discussions, Tazuna had said—for safety’s sake—she wanted Kitahara to pair with her.
He’d thought: perfect. On one hand, holding tight to Tazuna’s thickest thigh. On the other, easier chances to slack. He’d agreed at once.
But on the day, when he arrived at the meeting point—no sign of her.
Until this disguised version walked up and greeted him. A transformation so complete it felt like meeting another person.
She’d caught his astonishment and smiled with satisfaction. Then explained:
“My name carries weight, even outside the school. Most students know me. If my identity is exposed, trouble will follow. A disguise is necessary. So I tried a new look.”
“At first I worried even this might be seen through. But seeing that even the Chairwoman and Trainer Kitahara failed to recognize me—I’m reassured.”
Her reasoning held. Kitahara didn’t overthink it.
But as time went on… something felt more and more off.
“Kitahara-san, the two of us together stand out here.”
“But it can’t be helped. Places like this are filled with young couples. A stiff pairing like ours will naturally draw notice. Suspicion, even…”
“If it continues, it may catch their attention. In that case…”
“For safety—why don’t we disguise ourselves as a couple?”
Kitahara’s gut reaction was rejection.
One, what if someone saw them and word spread to his team? A disaster waiting to happen.
Two, sometimes playing pretend turned real.
If it were anyone else—especially some of the heavyweights on his team—he would have refused instantly.
But this was Tazuna.
The Green Devil. Savior of trainers. First in the academy at “crushing would-be jumpers.”
With those buffs stacked, he couldn’t think of a single way this could blow up.
And she wasn’t wrong.
Most of the patrol areas were places for friends, for couples.
If they acted too stiff, it really would stand out.
So, though it felt a little wrong, he leaned in just slightly. Enough that they blended into the crowd.
But where Kitahara thought it was enough—Tazuna thought otherwise.
Walking together. Talking. Shopping. Claw machines. Even buying food and feeding him.
Normally, when out with the younger girls, Kitahara was always the one looking after them.
Even with Komata’s little “act,” though nominally he accompanied her, he’d still led most of the time.
But here, from start to finish, it was Tazuna leading. Tazuna caring for him.
And unlike Nice Nature’s gentle attentiveness, or Super Creek’s suffocating indulgence—
Tazuna’s style was calm, soft, sometimes a little stubborn or willful.
Like an older sister taking her little brother out to play. Comforting. Reassuring.
If it had stopped there, Kitahara might have been uneasy, but not… wistful.
After all, he knew. Tazuna was only disguising herself.
And it worked—beautifully. After she began, they slipped among the couples unnoticed.
But then.
After sitting awhile in the café, Tazuna suddenly asked:
“Kitahara-san. When there’s time… could we pretend like this in the academy as well?”
His heart nearly stopped.
Not that he feared she had feelings. The Green Devil’s value spoke for itself—she surely had a sound reason.
But reason or not, pretending as a couple inside Tracen was dangerous. Too dangerous.
Most of all—he hadn’t forgotten. In the Symboli household, he was still “Rudolf’s boyfriend.”
If this rumor spread…
Tokyo Bay, or a basement. Those would be the only choices.
But then Tazuna explained.
“After you told me to rest, I thought seriously. This is the only scheme I could find to take proper leave.”
“You know Tracen’s situation. If I disappear, without my pressure, the girls will grow restless. Trouble will break out…”
“But the Chairwoman told me—if I used this excuse, she could maneuver things. Keep order. Buy me two weeks of leave.”
“And as you said, aside from that two-week rest, I’ll need to come weekly for adjustments. Someone will notice eventually.
“But if there’s a couple relationship as cover—then visiting you is natural. And I can persuade the Chairwoman to shield us.”
“As for Rudolf—we can let it look like we’re competing over you. Then we can end it at any time without consequence.”
“If you find it troublesome, I’ll speak to her myself. I’m sure she won’t refuse.”
Kitahara felt weary. Something about this was wrong. But after hesitation, he nodded.
If it were anyone else, never.
But this was Tazuna.
Not just a “safe” girl. A shield. A talisman. If he ever ended up in a basement, she might be the one to break down the door.
And her reasoning was airtight.
He couldn’t even find grounds to refuse.
Even so, he laid down one condition.
“Then at least let my tantou know. About the pretend relationship.”
His ties with them were normal, yes. He doubted they’d panic even if they didn’t know.
But with so many cautionary tales, why risk it?
Tazuna agreed readily.
Then, after checking the area once more for suspicious figures, they resumed patrol.
…
Time passed.
Another uneventful day ended. They returned to campus.
After confirming with the Chairwoman and Rudolf, the group dispersed.
Kitahara, weary, returned to his dorm.
But this time, when he reached his door and pulled out his key—
Footsteps inside. The door opened before he touched it.
And there, in casual clothes, stood Nice Nature.
She looked up at him, her face blooming like a flower, happiness radiant.
“Welcome back, Kitahara-san.”
—
This is a fan translation of 人在特雷森，专职摆烂 by 多功能复读机 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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