A look of disbelief instantly flashed across Kitasan Black’s face.
Her eyes widened, mouth opened wordlessly, and she tried to speak several times, but the words caught in her throat, refusing to come out.
After a long moment, she finally stammered helplessly, “Contract terminated… Fired… Why?”
“Gallant-san… Her record is really good. Trainer mentioned she’d won twice before, and was runner-up twice… Ah, I think now it’s three second-place finishes and two third-place finishes…”
“She’s consistently in the top five on the bulletin board. With results like these, why would her trainer get transferred?”
“Well…” Vodka considered briefly. “Remember what Opera-senpai said at lunch on race day—that Gallant-san’s trainer was ‘kind of’ also her own trainer?”
She heavily emphasized the words “kind of.”
Kitasan Black noticed immediately but didn’t understand why her senpai intentionally stressed that point.
Vodka didn’t keep her guessing. “You should know Opera-senpai’s accomplishments.
Fourteen career wins, including seven G1 victories. She’s among the rare ‘Seven-Crown’ Uma Musume since the start of the Twinkle Series.”
“But before her debut, just like you, nobody really believed in her.”
Kitasan Black gasped in shock. “No…no way! Even Opera-senpai faced something like that?”
At this point, Daiwa Scarlet interjected gently.
“It’s not that unusual, Kita-chan. A similar example is Oguri-senpai. My main trainer used to be one of Oguri Cap-senpai’s trainers; they knew each other back in the local circuit.”
“You know my trainer’s level—he’s one of the best active trainers right now. Yet even someone like him initially didn’t recognize Oguri-senpai’s potential. He never imagined that senpai could win central heavy stakes and G1s, let alone so many.”
“Once he realized Oguri-senpai’s astonishing talent, even though he knew continuing as her trainer could’ve brought him great fame, he voluntarily terminated their agreement and even encouraged Oguri-senpai to head to Central.”
“So, talented Uma Musume not having a proper stage to showcase their skills—it’s not unusual, Kita-chan. In fact, it’s more common than you’d think.”
Kitasan Black had never heard about this side of racing, nor these hidden histories of her seniors. Now, abruptly confronted with them, she was left speechless with astonishment.
“That’s about it, like Daiwa said,” Vodka continued. “After countless trainers rejected her, Opera-senpai didn’t give up. She kept searching everywhere for opportunities.”
“At that moment, she met the one person willing to support her.”
Kitasan Black fell silent for a moment.
“Was it…that trainer?” She felt reluctant to use words like “kind of” or “once.”
In her mind, shouldn’t trainers and Uma Musume be like her and Yasui Makoto, trusting each other, working together until the end?
Seeming to sense this, Vodka didn’t dwell on it.
“Yes, exactly. But back then, that person was still a student at the Trainers’ Academy, working as an assistant to several newly-certified trainers. I don’t know exactly what happened between her and Opera-senpai. Probably only they know the details.”
“Anyway, thanks to her efforts, one of her trainer-senpais agreed to sign Opera-senpai on a trial basis. You already know the rest. Opera-senpai went from complete obscurity to becoming one of the most famous Uma Musume in history, and the person who supported her eventually got her trainer’s license.”
Kitasan Black mulled over this for a bit, nodding slightly but still unsure.
“I think I understand, but…” She hesitated again. “If she knew a genius Uma Musume like Opera-senpai even before debut, wouldn’t she have learned a lot and become quite outstanding herself?”
“If that’s the case, why was she fired…?”
Her voice trailed off, seeing the strange, awkward looks simultaneously appearing on her three seniors’ faces.
That look was all too familiar. She quickly recalled their expressions at lunch on race day, when she’d said something similar—Yasui Makoto, Daiwa Scarlet, and Vodka had worn precisely that expression.
“Kita-chan, let me ask you—or rather, have you guess something,” Vodka abruptly changed the subject, taking a deep breath. “After that trainer got her license, how many G1 victories do you think her Uma Musume have won over all these years?”
Although she knew little about these matters, Kitasan Black sensed from her senpai’s tone that the answer wouldn’t be optimistic.
She bit her lip hesitantly, then cautiously raised her hand.
“If Opera-senpai alone won seven G1s…even if later Uma Musume she trained weren’t quite as talented, then…at least five G1 victories, right?”
Vodka stared at her outstretched fingers for a long moment before smiling bitterly and shaking her head.
“Nope. Try again.”
“Not even five…?” Kitasan Black stared blankly, stunned. “Then…four? No, three?”
She lowered two fingers in quick succession, but seeing Vodka shaking her head again, she grew increasingly shocked.
“It couldn’t be…only one victory? That’d be too—”
She froze mid-sentence as Vodka shook her head once more.
“The correct answer is…zero.”
Once again, silence fell over Kitasan Black.
She had never anticipated this outcome, yet knew Vodka wouldn’t lie to her. Especially when Daiwa Scarlet and Ines Fujin both wore expressions of heavy resignation, remaining silent as though confirming it, she saw no reason to doubt.
As she struggled to absorb the shock, she began to understand why that trainer was fired by the Satono family.
Though they didn’t discuss deeply, she had always sensed from Crown-chan and Dia-chan’s casual remarks that their family placed immense pressure on them. Coincidentally, much like that trainer’s career, the Satono family had been competing in the Twinkle Series for years but still hadn’t achieved a single G1 win. She could easily imagine how heavy that burden was for her friends.
Such pressure wouldn’t just affect the Uma Musume—it would inevitably extend to their trainer.
If they couldn’t win, the family would simply change trainers.
That was probably the Satono family’s attitude toward trainers, and with the resources they had, they could certainly afford it.
But even without G1 wins, surely that trainer had given her all for Gallant-san—just like Yasui Makoto had for her.
Perhaps some of her previous victories were precisely because of those efforts.
Gallant-san must have felt as grateful to that trainer as she herself felt toward Yasui Makoto.
And now, after just one failure, the trainer had been fired. That must’ve been why Gallant-san was crying…
Opera-senpai, Crown-chan, and Dia-chan were probably trying to comfort her…
Thinking of this, Kitasan Black found her thoughts drifting toward Yasui Makoto, slowly realizing something.
“…So, Trainer, he…”
Looking toward Yasui Makoto’s apartment in the distance, the black-haired girl murmured softly.
“He must have known about this all along. That day, when I asked him about it, he didn’t tell me…probably because he didn’t want me to feel pressured, and didn’t want me to worry about him either…”
—
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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