Late at night, in the student council president’s office at Tracen Academy, a laptop sat open atop the desk.
On the screen, a lively song and dance performance was unfolding, featuring a black-haired Uma Musume passionately singing her heart out.
Watching her intently from the other side of the screen was a petite, playful-looking brunette Uma Musume, sporting a pair of fake glasses perched lightly on her nose, her brown bangs highlighted by a crescent-shaped white lock.
As the black-haired girl finished her song and bowed gratefully to the audience, the brunette adjusted her glasses slightly and chuckled softly.
“You’ve really grown, Kitasan…”
Just then, the office door opened quietly. An elegant Uma Musume stepped inside, her long lavender hair and matching lavender-tipped ears catching the room’s gentle light.
“Teio, regarding the inspection schedule…”
Halfway through her sentence, she paused, shaking her head in amusement.
“You’re secretly imitating President Rudolf again, aren’t you?”
In an instant, Tokai Teio—the brunette behind the desk, and current student council president of Central Tracen Academy—blushed fiercely, hastily pulling off her fake glasses.
“Hey! McQueen! Didn’t we agree you wouldn’t tease me about this?!”
“I’m not teasing you. It’s just—pfft—”
The Uma Musume called McQueen finally couldn’t help herself, breaking into a small laugh before waving her hand apologetically at the increasingly red-faced Teio.
“Alright, alright. There’s nobody else here, so you can drop the dignified act.”
McQueen—full name Mejiro McQueen—was the current vice president of the student council. At an elite institution like Central Tracen Academy, managing the brightest Uma Musume naturally implied exceptional skill.
The previous president, Symboli Rudolf, was among the absolute best, and Tokai Teio, who succeeded her, was equally remarkable.
Similarly, vice presidents were always equally impressive—Maruzensky, the “Supercar,” Tamamo Cross, the “White Lightening,” and now Mejiro McQueen, renowned as the “Great Actor.”
Recently, McQueen had been busy with off-campus affairs and had only just returned to assist Teio with upcoming race inspections.
“I get it, I get it.”
Tokai Teio did care a lot about her image among students.
Just as Kitasan Black admired her, she’d always idolized her senior, Rudolf. Unconsciously, she often mimicked Rudolf’s dignified mannerisms, convinced it would enhance her authority.
But she understood her friend’s subtle advice—true authority wasn’t something that could simply be worn like a pair of glasses.
So, with a childish pout, she removed her fake glasses and adopted a serious expression, spinning the laptop screen around.
“We’ll talk about inspections later. First, take a look at this.”
A glint of curiosity flickered in Mejiro McQueen’s eyes as she approached the desk.
“This is…today’s Winner’s Stage at Tokyo Racecourse?”
“Yep. Now, look at this.”
After nodding, Tokai Teio joined McQueen’s side and clicked the mouse several times, bringing up a recording of a race.
At first, McQueen watched out of mild curiosity, but soon her expression turned serious.
Two minutes later, she swiftly took control of the mouse from Teio, clicking rapidly through the recording.
“Such a bold racing strategy. It’s been ages since I’ve seen an Uma Musume run her debut race with this kind of daring tactic.”
“Whose trainee is this?”
“Naise-san?”
“Kitahara-san?”
“Or perhaps Ms. Tojo, or Kuro-numa…?”
“…Wait a moment—who’s Yasui Makoto?””
She opened the race details and stared blankly at the unfamiliar name for a moment before realization dawned on her.
“Oh, he’s that youngest-ever trainer, right? I remember now.”
“But still…”
She furrowed her brow slightly.
“If he’s only eighteen, how does he have such veteran-level experience? Treating a debut—such a critical first race—as if it’s just training? Even seasoned trainers wouldn’t dare something like that.”
“And that acceleration timing he gave his Uma Musume was just so precise…”
“Who’s his assigned Uma Musume? She must be an experienced racer, right? Otherwise, how could she agree to this kind of tactic?”
At her words, Tokai Teio quietly stifled a smile before putting on a serious face again.
“See for yourself. Here, it’s written clearly.”
Immediately after, she got exactly the reaction she’d hoped from her friend—a delighted gasp of surprise.
“Kitasan?! She debuted already?! So quickly?! And she won her first race?!”
“It’s hardly quick anymore, McQueen.”
Tokai Teio shook her head with a faint smile, turning thoughtful.
“But, well, you’re right—it actually does feel fast.”
“I keep thinking yesterday was just when we raced each other at the Tenno Sho (Spring).”
“Then, suddenly, all those little girls who were cheering for us in the stands back then are stepping onto the racecourse themselves.”
Feeling similarly sentimental, Mejiro McQueen nodded.
“The last time I saw Kitasan was last year.”
“Afterwards, I only heard about her whenever you were searching for trainers on her behalf.”
“I didn’t expect that, in the blink of an eye, she’d already found an assigned trainer and completed her debut with such a daring performance.”
“Time truly flies…”
Sharing another quiet moment of nostalgia with McQueen, Tokai Teio quickly snapped back to attention and opened several more videos on the computer.
“Back to Kitasan for now. McQueen, have a look at these recordings.”
“Alright.”
McQueen pulled up a chair and sat down. Teio did the same, and soon both Uma Musume were focused intently on the screen.
The recordings clearly showed Yasui Makoto and Kitasan Black during various training sessions, unmistakably captured by the academy’s internal monitoring system.
After a while:
“McQueen, don’t you think this trainer seems rather…”
Tokai Teio hesitated, pinching her chin thoughtfully.
Similarly crossing her arms and tapping her chin, Mejiro McQueen nodded slightly.
“His training methods differ drastically from ours. Rather than calling him a Japanese trainer…”
They exchanged a look and finished simultaneously:
“It’s almost exactly like what we’ve seen in Europe and America.”
Afterwards, Tokai Teio spoke excitedly.
“You really thought the same thing as me, huh, McQueen?”
“Naturally. If you noticed something, of course I’d notice it too.”
After a brief smile, Mejiro McQueen turned thoughtful again.
“You’re interested because of this trainer’s unusual methods, aren’t you?”
“Mm. Both of us have faced overseas competitors, and I even won the Japan Cup once, but…”
Tokai Teio smiled self-deprecatingly.
“As the years go by, the more I think about it, the less confident I am that I’d win again if given another chance.”
McQueen remained silent for a moment, sighing softly.
“There’s no helping it. The gap between Japan and the world is simply too wide.”
“And…”
She hesitated slightly.
“After last year’s Arc de Triomphe, Gold Ship, Orfevre, and Vega were all eager to try again, but the association chose a conservative route…”
“Ah, they’ve always been like that—from the president on down.”
Abruptly interrupting McQueen, Tokai Teio shrugged, spreading her hands and curling her lips in a wry smile as she gazed at the screen, at Yasui Makoto and Kitasan Black.
“Who cares what they think, anyway?”
“Right now, all I hope is that Kitasan and this Trainer Yasui…”
“Can show us something truly new.”
—
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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