“What’s up, Teio?”
Kitahara Sota glanced toward Tokai Teio beside him, feeling quite calm.
Perhaps because he was sure he hadn’t raised her affection, or maybe because Teio had seemed stable lately. Or possibly, after nearly two weeks at Tracen, he had realized things weren’t as outrageous here as he’d once imagined.
In any case, he wasn’t as wary of Tokai Teio as he once was.
Though still cautious, at least casual conversations posed no problem. Their relationship had settled comfortably into that of casual acquaintances bound purely by mutual benefit, entirely free of any basement-level risks.
Or so he firmly believed.
Thus, he wasn’t the least bit flustered when Tokai Teio suddenly spoke up. And her next words only reinforced his thoughts.
“Trainer-san, I want to participate in a preliminary race two weeks from now.”
A preliminary race was essentially a placement match, akin to ranked placements in gaming. While these races didn’t offer material rewards, they awarded URA race points, necessary to enter higher-level competitions.
URA points functioned much like ranked ladders—higher points indicated stronger Uma Musume, though not always definitively.
Initially, the URA had used the number of fans to evaluate an Uma Musume’s strength. But after someone manipulated the system—boosting fans artificially, flooding G1 races with low-level Uma Musume to secure an easy victory—the URA switched to the current points-based system.
As for the perpetrator, after URA investigations, they received a lifetime ban. Reportedly, the culprit later committed suicide—though strangely, not a single bone was intact upon death.
Unlike grinding up a ranked ladder, preliminary races didn’t require constant participation. Exceptional performances in a few matches allowed direct entry into official races.
Tokai Teio, as a student of Tracen Academy HQ, naturally began with higher base points. Having already won first place in her debut race, a single victory in the preliminary round would instantly qualify her for G3 races—the lowest level of “Graded” races, which ranged from G3 up to G1.
Below these were: Newcomer Races, One-Win Races, Two-Win Races, Three-Win Races, and Open Races (OP). First-year Uma Musume also had “Pre-OP” events exclusive to them.
Ordinary Uma Musume started from Newcomer Races and had to climb through multiple ranks just to qualify for preliminaries. But elite students from Tracen HQ held special privileges—entering Open races easily after minimal qualifiers.
In Tokai Teio’s case, after a first-place debut and a preliminary victory, she’d gain immediate eligibility for G3 events.
Yet Teio aimed much higher.
She wanted more than just G3 races.
She wanted the Undefeated Triple Crown.
The Triple Crown—Satsuki Sho, Japanese Derby, and Kikuka Sho—were three prestigious G1 races. The Undefeated Triple Crown required victory in every race entered, from debut to claiming the final Kikuka Sho, without any losses or slip-ups.
Kitahara naturally knew all this as a trainer.
He figured Teio was rushing into the preliminary round to quickly secure her G1 qualifications and buy herself extra time to prepare for an undefeated Triple Crown run.
What puzzled him was why Teio specifically brought this up. According to their arrangement, she’d independently manage her race schedule without needing to consult him.
But Teio’s next words cleared his confusion immediately:
“Trainer-san, would you…come watch my race?”
She appeared somewhat nervous as she asked.
Kitahara immediately understood her meaning.
Ah, I see.
She was worried their agreement might keep him from attending her races, making their unusual relationship obvious and potentially drawing suspicion.
Though some within the team suspected their strange trainer-tantou relationship, no one had openly questioned it. Outsiders believed they shared a normal trainer relationship, oblivious to their secret arrangement.
Even Symboli Rudolf remained unaware—should the truth surface, trouble would certainly follow.
Considering this, Kitahara nodded readily.
“Of course. Officially, I’m still your trainer. As long as nothing urgent comes up, I’ll attend your races from now on. I can even handle media questions for you, so just focus on preparing.”
After all, isn’t double pay exactly for handling these things?
Hearing his response, Teio’s eyes brightened, her tail unconsciously wagging behind her. Sitting so close, her tail accidentally brushed against Kitahara, quickly jerking back as if shocked, her ears twitching nervously.
“Well, Trainer-san, I—”
“Oh, right. There was something I wanted to tell you,” Kitahara interrupted, turning toward Teio. “Last weekend, thinking you’d start racing soon, I booked a spot at a shop to have your race outfit made. If you’re free this weekend, we can go together, take measurements, and you can share any preferences you have.”
Managing the race outfit was a basic trainer duty—he couldn’t expect a student buried in schoolwork to handle that. It wasn’t directly training-related, so in Kitahara’s eyes, it was perfectly normal to handle this himself.
Teio paused, surprised. “A race outfit…? Prez actually said she’d… No, never mind, I’m free.”
She’d nearly mentioned that Symboli Rudolf had already arranged a top-tier designer for her outfit, someone far superior to any ordinary shop. But for some reason, halfway through speaking, she changed her mind, her tail swishing softly behind her.
Well, having a backup outfit might be good. And even if it doesn’t look great, I can always wear it in lower-level races. I shouldn’t reject Trainer-san’s goodwill, right…?
Ignoring the strange feeling bubbling within, Teio awkwardly changed the topic.
“Trainer-san, Eclipse-san plans to start racing this year too, right? How’s her schedule looking?”
Kitahara answered bluntly:
“I have no idea.”
He wasn’t lying.
Though Tokai Teio considered herself quite whimsical, compared to Eclipse, her whims barely counted.
At least Teio trained regularly. Eclipse, on the other hand, just stood silently, eating excessively day after day. Forget racing—Kitahara found it strange she hadn’t yet turned into a lazy, overweight pony.
Besides, Eclipse didn’t seem concerned about racing at all. When Kitahara previously asked about her plans, she gave an answer perfectly matching his impression of her:
“I’ll just run casually, I guess. Whatever’s convenient.”
So, you don’t care about the course, distance, schedule, or opponents at all?
This wasn’t a local Tracen branch, nor were these casual anonymous races without competitive points. Once she began racing officially, she’d face OP-level competition at minimum. Her rivals would be leagues stronger than before. Shouldn’t you worry at least a little bit?
Though Kitahara complained inwardly, he never objected openly.
He knew Eclipse’s personality well. She’d probably listen if he asked her seriously, but he didn’t want to force her into something she disliked. And, seeing how casually she treated training, he doubted she’d win much anyway.
Ultimately, he decided to let her be—her happiness mattered most.
Just as he and Teio finished discussing Eclipse, a pair of pink ears twitched from a nearby corner. Agnes Digital, who had been quietly photographing the Uma Musume in the room, subtly crept up beside Kitahara, ears perked intently.
“…What are you doing?” Kitahara asked suspiciously, eyeing the suddenly approaching Digital.
Agnes Digital blinked excitedly.
“Well, you see, Trainer-san, I’ve actually followed Eclipse-san closely since she enrolled. I’ve tried to learn more about her story but never found anything solid. Rumor has it you two grew up together, so maybe you could share a bit of your history…?”
After a pause, she quickly added:
“I swear by the Three Goddesses, nothing you say will leave this room!”
—
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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