Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

[Coming out of the final corner, it’s Maruzensky rushing out in front!]

[Her strength is completely unmatched! With only 200 meters to go, she’s still pulling forward!]

[And Maruzensky’s taken first place! A perfect victory! Not a single racer today managed to catch up to her!]

[Standing above all other Umamusume, your Arima Kinen champion, it’s Maruzensky!]

Staring as a crimson blur blazed past the finish line, a clear goal planted itself firmly in Junko’s mind.

One day, she would stand along an Umamusume whose name graced the lips of the nation.

A trainer known to all, Junko and her destined partner would engrave their legacy into the pages of history, indelible and unrivalled. Sure, it would take some exams and specialised training, but with Junko’s work ethic? That would be child’s play. As soon as Junko stepped into the world of Umamusume, she would train a bona fide legend. The Twinkle Series? Nothing more than a stepping stone in their journey to greatness.

“So how did I end up becoming a racing groom...?” Junko couldn’t help but moan as she approached the gates of Tracen Academy. Well, that wasn’t entirely right. The proper name was the Japan Umamusume Training Centre Academy, but it isn’t hard to imagine how quickly people chose to reduce that to just Tracen Academy. “No, there’s no time to be down! Remember, the alternative is office work, the alternative is office work, the alternative is office work…”

“You know, office work isn’t that bad~. Having a personal desk and quiet place to work is actually quite nice sometimes.”

Junko froze. That gentle tone belonged to a voice she couldn’t forget. How could she? It was the same one she had heard in so many TV interviews, as well as the one that conducted her work one. No wonder Junko found herself whirling round, desperately hoping that her expression wasn’t too telling.

“M-Miss Hayakawa! I didn’t, um, didn’t realise you were coming out to greet me!” Junko blurted out, her words punctuated with a bow. Thank goodness they were too: if her superior saw how her giggle made Junko blush, Junko would practically die of embarrassment right there and then. “I just, er, my father, he’s -he’s had some bad experiences, you know? Ah, my name-!”

“Junko Fujita, yes? Your interview was exceptional. The least I can do is remember your name,” was Miss Hayakawa’s reply, only a patient smile to be seen on her face. “And there’s no need to worry. Even if paperwork can be relaxing at times, you won’t be needing to do much in your particular role. Like we mentioned previously, you’ll be hands-on for most of the day.”

“R-Right. Of course.” Answered Junko, a deep breath soon returning her to her prior composure. It seemed that even if her father’s work stories didn’t apply here, at least his advice still did. Not that it would stop Junko from giving him a proper scolding over the phone, but that was a story for another time.  “Thank you again for this opportunity, Miss Hayakawa. I will do my best to live up to your expectations!”

“I never thought you wouldn’t,” said Miss Hayakawa. “And please, call me Tazuna. Despite my role as the Chairman’s secretary, we’ll be seeing each other fairly frequently. It’ll be easier for us to get along if we just use first names, right? Of course, that’s only if you’re comfortable with that.”

“Really? Is that – is that okay?” it wasn’t exactly a confident reply, but how else was Junko meant to respond? Her father’s experience had prepared her for cold greetings, harsh expectations and constant breathing down her neck lest she get any thoughts about leaving her position in the company hierarchy. None of his tales had mentioned anything about jumping straight to calling her boss so intimately from day one. Quite frankly, it was a miracle that what came out of her mouth were coherent words. “Then… I look forward to working with you… Miss Tazuna.”

“I could say the same. Welcome to Tracen Academy, Junko.” Met with Tazuna’s greetings, Junko couldn’t stop her gulp. Though she may have been standing before the gates for a while now, it wasn’t until hearing it come out of Tazuna’s mouth that the reality of the situation settled in. Junko was part of Tracen now. She was one step away from being surrounded by some of Japan’s best. Suddenly. what felt like a relatively simple job became a noticeable weight upon her shoulders. “Now, I hope you’ll forgive me for putting you to work so soon, but we need to prepare for the latest batch of students that will be arriving in the coming weeks. Normally, you would have a chat with the Director first, but a recent project has left her schedule rather strained. Instead, I’ll be taking you to your room and once you’re settled in, I’ll have someone give you a proper tour. Is that alright?”

“Absolutely!” did Junko sound too excited there? She wasn’t quite sure. Perhaps she was devoting a little too much of her focus on restraining herself from trembling in excitement and not enough on restraining her voice. “Please, lead the way!”

“Outdoor stages, a swimming pool, a dance studio… These facilities are way beyond anything we had back home.” Junko muttered as they walked, every other turn seemingly revealing another fantastical feature.

Truthfully, Junko wasn’t sure what was weirder – the sheer scale of what Tracen Academy had to offer, or how easily the Umamusume who studied there moved between them. Ask any of her friends and they’d probably freak out at the idea, let alone actually seeing things first hand. The students of Tracen, meanwhile, treated their campus with the same casual regard as going to a nearby coffee shop. Then again, considering that they had free reign to visit everything, it may as well be the same.

“Here at Tracen Academy, we put our students through an incredibly rigorous training environment. Giving them the necessary tools to succeed and recover afterward are par for the course.” Tazuna happily explained, returning the waves of some passing students with one of her own. “Every ounce of luxury they receive has been earned through hard work and dedication. That’s why we need racing grooms like you to help provide it to the best of our abilities.”

“Of course. Maintaining a campus this big must take some real effort.” Junko replied, a moment spent flashing back to the list of responsibilities that had graced the job description. Were she not so stubborn a soul, such a lengthy list would’ve scared her off immediately. “I’m glad. I was looking for a role with a little more variety. Everything back home would have me stuck in a single…?”

“Is there an issue?” Tazuna began, only to follow Junko’s confused gaze to a figure that certainly stood out amongst the young women that made up Tracen Academy’s populace. “Ah, I see! What a coincidence; I was hoping you two would get the chance to meet. Let’s go over and say hi.”

“Wait, so that child is meant to be here?” Junko couldn’t help but ask, disbelief written all over her expression. Could you blame her though? Considering every other worker in the place was a fully grown adult, suddenly coming across a young boy working away so diligently was bound to cause some incredulous reactions. Tazuna’s calm response was honestly a greater cause for concern. “And stuffing mattresses as well? Aren’t they meant to come preprepared?”

“They usually do, with oat straw. Problem is, they’re reaching the end of their lifespan and the price is getting a little high according to President Rudolf thanks to a bad harvest. That’s why I’m switching the bedding over to wood shavings – easier to get and should provide some better support for everyone’s joints.” The child’s reply came out so casually, you’d think he was a seasoned trainer. Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, Junko found herself nodding subconsciously. “Is this the new person you were talking about, Big Sis Tazuna? I don’t remember there being any new faces around here yet.”

“It is, which is why you should’ve started by introducing yourself, Keita.” Faced with such blatant scolding from Tazuna, Keita had the decency to look at least somewhat sheepish. Lowering his eyes and rubbing the back of his head like that, Junko was suddenly reminded that this boy could be no older than eight. “I suppose I might as well do it myself now. Junko, this is Keita Hongo. We’re looking after him while his father’s busy doing his trainer duties. Keita, like you said, this is our latest hire: Junko Fujita. She’ll be working here as a racing groom.”

As Tazuna mentioned, the correct thing for Junko to do here would be introducing herself to Keita properly. Hearing that name spoken aloud, however, a much more prevalent thought took over her mind.

“Hongo, Hongo, Hongo… wait, as in Yuichi Hongo? Maruzensky’s trainer!?” she blurted out, earning a wry grin from Keita. “You’re really the son of Maruzensky’s trainer?”

“Pretty sure I am. Work tends to keep him busy though, so we don't get much time to hang out anymore.” Keita answered, a wisp of some indecipherable emotion underlying his words. Part of Junko wanted to question it, but there was a time and place. “It gave me the opportunity to help out here though, so I can’t complain. If you’re going to be working here full time, then you might see me around before and after school.”

Junko was silently impressed. If he stayed the full time his father was working, that was pretty crazy dedication. With competing Umamusume having routines that could last from half five in the morning to half eight in the evening, being able to work the time outside of school without getting bored was something to be commended. Sure, Keita’ probably didn’t spend all his time working hard, but that was still about eight-ish hours to fill regardless.

“At first, we were just letting Keita rest and play in the student council room as a favour to Mr Hongo, but then he started begging us to let him help out. ‘Helping to make everyone shine like Big Sis Maruzensky’, if I remember correctly.” Tazuna continued, making a point of ignoring Keita’s resulting indignant call.

“That’s not - you make it sound weird!” he immediately retorted, folding his arms with a huff. If only he didn’t look so adorable while doing so – Junko might almost be able to take him seriously. “I just need to pay everyone back for letting me hang out all the time. Simple stuff like this is all I can do.”

“You don’t have to say it like that. It looks to me like you’re doing important work.” Keita didn’t immediately respond to Junko’s reply, too busy melting at the sensation of her hand upon his head. while normal circumstances would have had him slap it away, the gentle caresses left him pretty much defenceless. A part of him couldn’t help but scream in embarrassment; you’d think after so many girls doing the same thing, Keita would’ve developed at least some defence against it. “I’ll have to do my best to make sure I don’t fall behind! But don’t you find manual labour stuff like this a little boring? When I was your age, I was running around parks and stuff. Playing, you know?”

“I guess sometimes it is. That’s just what the life of a trainer’s like though, right? You don’t get to do all the cool fun stuff without going through all of the boring stuff as well.” Was Keita’s answer, paired with a shrug. “At least I can chat with everybody and watch them do all their training. If I waited until I’m old enough to do it properly, it’d be ages before they let me work alongside an Umamusume. Might as well put in a little effort now and skip to the good bit when I’m older, right?”

“Huh. You really are mature for your age. Sounds like you’re gonna be a real pro when you grow up.” Junko praised, stepping back from her head patting position. If Keita was going to talk like a grown up, the least Junko could do was treat him like one. “Keep talking like that and I could mistake you for a senior. Well, the whole ‘trying to skip work’ part loses you some points, but the rest was pretty cool!”

“Speaking of skipping work, I nearly forgot. We need to finish off our tour, don’t we?” Fortunately for Keita, Tazuna’s reminder snapped Junko back to reality, the girl looking at her phone’s clock with alarm.

“Oh, right! Then, I’ll see you around Keita!”

“Yeah, see ya.” And with that, Keita only had the chance to give a brief wave before Junko was bouncing away, Tazuna leaving with a quiet chuckle before she could be left behind. Hardly the most graceful of farewells, but it was more than enough for Keita. “A senior, huh... Wait. Aren’t I her work senior? Do I get to be a work senior now?”

“So that’s Junko Fujita... Her education is impressive.  Were it not for unfortunate circumstances, she would make a fine trainer in future.” A woman mused as she gazed down upon the new hire’s blissfully cheerful face through the window. “I’m guessing that’s why you hired her, Director?”

“You speak as if you weren’t part of the hiring process, Rudolf.” If Director Akikawa’s teasing got to Symboli Rudolf, the latter didn’t show it. Both knew full well that constant exposure had hardened her heart against such things. A blessing and a curse, if you asked Symboli Rudolf. “I accepted her contract because there was potential I couldn’t let stagnate. It’s been the same philosophy behind everyone who’s graced the Tracen Academy staff list.”

“As well as the student list, I suppose?” Rudolf retorted, throwing the exam papers into her hand onto the desk behind her. Even so, Director Akikawa didn’t flinch. “Because if you aren’t recruiting based off potential, I see no reason why an Umamusume like this could be enrolled. An exam paper that can barely be read, a streak consisting solely of losses in her local race circuit – it’s almost laughable.”

“I suppose in isolation, it is. From a purely technical standpoint, Miss Haru Urara does fall behind her peers significantly.” Director Akikawa had to admit. There was no point in hiding from the truth. The number of losses under Haru Urara’s name was only rivalled by horses who didn’t competitively race in the first place. Sure, it wasn’t as if she was coming in last or anything, but that didn’t mean much when applying to so prestigious a training academy. “But tell me, Miss Student Council President. Have you noticed her number of fans recently?”

“Her fans?” by right, there shouldn’t have been any. Nothing beyond whatever acquaintances and family Haru Urara could muster, at any rate. What reason would the average viewer have to become a fan of an Umamusume who couldn’t produce any results? Even a single victory would have marked her as a horse with potential, but every loss on Haru Urara’s record only further hammered her reputation as a subpar racer. “There can’t possibly be…!?”

No, there had to be an issue with the number noted down on the profile. An Umamusume like Haru Urara should’ve had fans that barely broke double digits. To have a fan count that broke four digits was simply a miracle – so why was it so plainly written on the page?

“I’ll remind you that the figure was taken from Miss Haru Urara’s Ra-Star account.” Director Akikawa warned before Symboli Rudolf could even fully open her lips. “I couldn’t fake it if I wanted to.”

“…Am I truly getting so predictable?” despite Symboli Rudolf’s lamentation, she didn’t seek to question the Director further. There was simply no need.

A Racing SuperStar account wasn’t just a casual social media profile. It was a nationally approved ID that collated follower counts from numerous platforms, detailing any publicly available information about an Umamusume that the common viewer might desire. When an Umamusume received her Ra-Star account, it was a symbol that her path to becoming a professional racer had truly begun, with all of the regulation and control that came with it. It’s easy to picture how such a significant account couldn’t be altered, especially by one as technologically illiterate as Director Akikawa.

“Let’s not answer that one.” Was Director Akikawa’s response, trying her best to hide her awkward cough. Considering how Symboli Rudolf’s eyes narrowed, you can tell how well that worked. “More importantly, it’s clear as day that there’s something special about Miss Haru Urara. The way she perseveres through race after race, carries on with a smile regardless of what position she receives – it’s managed to sway so many hearts! That kind of charisma and charm is something to be nourished. Improving the rest is what our job as a training academy is.”

“Fine. I’ll admit there is merit to Haru Urara’s enrolment. I still can’t understand how that relates to Miss Fujita or Keita.” Symboli Rudolf then stated, her eyes returning to the window where Keita was stood muttering to himself. What he was saying, Symboli Rudolf couldn’t tell, but she could definitely see a smile on his face.

“Really? Then let me give you another hint.” The Director declared, slapping her fan into her palm. “It’s the same reason why I’ve left Miss Rice Shower’s papers on your desk as well. Though it seems your concerns regarding Miss Haru Urara’s situation has made you forget about those. How rude.”

“R-Rude? Rice Shower’s exams and records are completely normal – exemplary even. It would be ruder if I did question them.” Retorted Symboli Rudolf, a dusting of red across her cheeks. That only grew worse when Director Akikawa gave a dramatic sigh in return.

“Then I suppose I have no choice. Allow me to monologue for a moment.” It was phrased like a question but given how Director Akikawa was already moving into a dramatic pose, it wasn’t as if there was a choice. If only Symboli Rudolf could say this was the first time such a thing had happened in her office. “You’ve heard of the issues surrounding Miss Rice Shower’s potential trainers, yes?”

“Two completely unrelated incidents soon after the initial compatibility meeting. It’s hard to forget.” Symboli Rudolf said with a sigh.

Trying to find trainers for Rice Shower after that was a veritable nightmare. In the world of sport, superstition was treated with the same weight as science; it was becoming a challenge to find anyone willing to take on rice Shower, let anyone skilled trainers. Admittedly, it wasn’t as if Symboli Rudolf was entirely out of options – who didn’t want to become a trainer at Tracen Academy? – but her pride as Student Council President wouldn’t settle for anything less than the best. It was just a shame that the best were also terrified of bad luck.

“True, which is why Miss Rice Shower is very much in the same boat as Miss Haru Urara. No self-respecting trainer would willing take on a bad omen and an Umamusume guaranteed to lose. It would be a direct assault on their reputations.” Agreed Director Akikawa, yet her solemnity only lasted for a second. “So tell me, what if we could get someone to train them who had zero reputation to tank?”

“What a joke. If that were the case, then they’d barely be-” before Symboli Rudolf could finish, the words nearly died on her lips. “Barely be a trainer…Director, this is ridiculous! Miss Fujita is completely unqualified!”

“Her greatest advantage at the moment. Worst case scenario, people pity Haru Urara and Rice Shower for being placed with such an ineffectual trainer. Without any qualifications, Junko earning losses is an expectation, not a failure.” The words were said so nonchalantly, you’d never believe they were as crazy as they were. That was just how director Akikawa was. Whether it be the grandest projects or most insane gambles, the Director never was the type to hesitate. “Everyone wins, Rudolf! Junko gets experience and education she wouldn’t be able to otherwise and two more Umamusume are allowed to run! That is what you’ve been fighting for, isn’t it?”

At first, there was silence. That much, director Akikawa expected. If Symboli Rudolf was so easily swayed, she never would’ve survived the amount of responsibility the Director piled on her. Even with her eyes closed, the calculations running through Symboli Rudolf’s mind were evident – and exactly what Director Akikawa wanted.

After all, if Symboli Rudolf was going to reject her idea, then there wouldn’t be a need to think.

“…And what of Miss Fujita’s lack of knowledge?” Symboli Rudolf eventually asked.

“Keita has been working diligently during his time here. He’ll have plenty to pass on.” Director Akikawa immediately answered. “It’ll be a good opportunity for him too. While he may be too young to go through an official apprenticeship, there are no rules against assisting somebody else. He’ll be one step closer to emulating his father!”

“So, you’ve been planning that far ahead…” Symboli Rudolf mused, shaking her head. Whether was a positive or a negative was yet to be decided, not that Director Akikawa seemed to care either way. “Then, one final question. Is this the real reason why you hired Miss Fujita in the first place? Took care of Keita?”

“I did both because it was the right move to make. I’m not so callous that I would make a lonely child and woman in need of hospitalisation funds into pawns.” Director Akikawa said. “Having said that, I can’t deny that I’m a nosey person. The entire reason why I began our latest project is because I wanted everybody to have a fighting chance at achieving their dream. To say I didn’t notice the pieces and put them into place as soon as I could would be a lie. Is that an adequate enough answer for you?”

“…For now. When you speak with such conviction, your desire to help is evident.” From the way Director Akikawa deflated at Symboli Rudolf’s statement, her relief couldn’t be more obvious. Just how a person could be so equally enigmatic and obvious was a question Symboli Rudolf felt like she’d never find an answer to. “Let me make myself clear though. The moment any of those involved show signs of rejection, I will support them to the very end. Miss Fujita and Keita will need additional support as well. Regardless of your intent, a trainer lacking knowledge in Tracen cannot be excused.”

“Of course. While we will have to work around their schedules, we would be a failure of an academy if we couldn’t provide a proper education!” Anticipation was practically dripping from Director Akikawa as she spoke, her hand physically unable to flutter her fan any faster. “I’ll discuss the situation with the head groom immediately! And Keita’s father as well!”

“Director, please wait!” but it was already too late. By the time Symboli Rudolf reached out, Director Akikawa was already laughing her way down the hallway, no doubt making a spectacle of herself to whoever was passing by. “Reckless as always. One mistake and she’ll make four people laughingstocks in one go. Then again, if it does work…”

“…They may very well become legends.”

Chapter Text

“Nobody mentioned waking up at five to me...” Junko groaned, desperately trying not to let the massive sack behind her drag her down.

That was a lie, of course. They absolutely did. Made a specific point of it, even. Lulled into a false sense of security by 9am classes, however, Junko didn’t spare it a second glance. She was already waking up at seven, after all. What harm could two more hours be?

Quite a bit, it turned out.

“Not much we can do about that I’m afraid. Everybody has to start as a Stable Hand first.” A colleague – Ryusei -  replied, his own sack carried in a single arm as if it were no more than feathers. No wonder he could speak about his work so casually; even an Umamusume could be jealous of those muscles. Then again, if the cost of that ease was a jacked body like his... maybe Junko was better off struggling. “Got to work up the ranks, you know? Prove you have what it takes to keep up with everyone else.”

“More like make sure you don’t embarrass them.”  another colleague – Maki – commented from the side. At least she was struggling as much as Junko. Nothing was as reassuring as shared suffering. “The grooms higher up are pretty much dealing with celebrities. Half-assed effort could cost the Umamusume and trainer they’re working with everything. Might as well weed out the weaklings beforehand.”

“Urgh, I hate the fact that makes sense.” Muttered Junko, even as her sack suddenly began moving somewhat faster. In the grand scheme of things, lifting a few heavy objects really wasn’t that bad. If menial labour like this was enough to make someone quit, there was no way they were going to survive the other ordeals that would be thrown at them. If Junko wanted to make a name for herself, there wasn’t any room to be lazy. “Still, it’s hard to believe that Tracen goes through this much food on a regular basis. We’ve got so many people here and it’s all just for moving rice.”

“Oh, no need to worry about that. Everyone’ll get through that easy.” A far too youthful voice replied, Junko’s eyes widening as she whirled around. Thank goodness Maki had the reflexes to dodge; an extra-large rice sack to the head wasn’t exactly the ideal way to start the morning.

“Keita!? What are you doing here so early?” Junko asked, Keita’s initial response being a small shrug.

“The same reason you’re toiling away so early. Breakfast.” he said. “Big Sis Maruzensky and the others will be eating around six or so before immediately jumping into any morning routines they have. It’s easier for my dad if we just have breakfast here with everyone else.”

“Right, right. I suppose with this much food going round, there’s plenty for everyone.” Junko mused aloud, only to startle slightly when she heard the raucous laughter erupting around her. “What, did I say something weird?”

“Did you forget we’re feeding athletes here? This will disappear in no time!” Ryusei answered through his chuckles. “There’s a reason why this is a regular part of our job.”

“Racing Umamusume will need twice the amount of energy that a normal resting one does. That’s about thirty-five thousand calories a day.” At Keita’s explanation, Junko froze.

“Wait, thirty-five… isn’t a normal person’s intake, like, two thousand…?” Junko stuttered out, looking at the sack behind her in disbelief. “But if this is twenty-five pounds then… this won’t even cover half a single person’s intake!?”

And Junko thought her breakfast was crazy. So many side dishes, all available as part of a buffet: you’d think she was living at a high-class hotel instead of a work dorm. Knowing that some Umamusume were consuming over ten times that amount on a daily basis, Junko felt full just from the thought.

Or maybe it was the huge amount of food she had piled on her plate that morning. One of the two.

“That’s why we need to step things up a gear, right?” Ryusei concluded, a firm slap to Junko’s back nearly sending her toppling. She didn’t want to hear that from a guy who had already moved six of those damned sacks. “’Course, it’s not like they’re eating all this in one go. they’ll need plenty of fat to keep up their energy as well and that’ll make up a decent chunk of their calorie intake. It’s just that the cafeteria needs to be ready for any snacks the students will need throughout the day.”

“I-Is that so? Guess I still have a lot to learn…” it wasn’t as if Junko didn’t know much about Umamusume. She wouldn’t have gotten a  job like this if she didn’t. It was just that most of her knowledge came from biology lessons talking about them in general. Racing knowledge tended to only focus on how Umamusume functioned, not what fuelled those functions. “At least they gave us a reasonable uniform for this. I was expecting a lot more formal stuff, not jeans and a polo.”

“That’s just for when you’re on the racetrack. Pretty sure we’d die if we wore stuff like that while we’re out.” Said Maki. A bit of a shame really. Getting to dress so prettily and get paid for it was kind of a perk in Junko’s eyes. Oh well – it was another reason to work harder to rise through the ranks. “Alright, I’m good over here. Is that the last of this lot?”

“Seems like we’ve got... one more rice sack, but the others can get that done. Veg is good, fish is good, meat is halfway through... Looks like us three are pretty much done for now. Nice work, everyone.” at Ryusei’s declaration, Junko tried not to make her sigh of relief too obvious. Maybe now she'd finally get some feeling back in her arms. Or less. Considering how much they were currently throbbing, less feeling in them would be good too.

“Guess that’s my cue to leave. Don’t want to be stuck with leftovers.” Keita said, glancing at the slowly brightening sky. A part of Junko wanted to scoff, only for her to hold back. After what she had just heard, perhaps that was a genuine possibility. “What have they got you guys doing next? I’ll see if I can sneak over and lend a hand after I’m done. Should have a bit of time before I need to leave for school.”

“I’ll be meeting the Director this morning, so no luck there.” Junko answered, rolling her shoulders. “Never got the chance to do it yesterday, so I’m just catching up on all the official stuff. Then I’ll be on Turf apparently.”

“Wait, Turf? No fair, I got Pool!” Maki immediately moaned, leaping in front of Junko with puppy-dog eyes at full power. “Can we swap? Pool cleaning’s basically like catching goldfish at the festivals! You don’t want to be messing around in the dirt all day, do you?”

“Don’t listen to this idiot.” if Maki had any objections to the First’s interjection, she didn’t voice it. Mainly because Ryusei’s fist had slammed right into the top of her head, but that wasn’t important. After all the strike was executed so casually, there was no way it could’ve been the first time. “She just wants to mess around with the irrigation and decompression machinery. You focus on giving Director Akikawa a good impression, yeah?”

“Well, that was the plan anyway, but thanks!”

“Oh, and Keita. I’ve been allocated to the Dance Studio. Feel free to head over and chill out with some tunes before you leave.” Keita’s response to Ryusei was a firm thumbs up.

“Sounds like a plan.” and with that, it appeared that everyone was happy to break up and head towards whatever the future held for them that day.

“Wait, Junko! Are you sure you don’t want my Pool? It’d be way more fun than Turf, I promise!”

Well, nearly everyone.

“Director Akikawa? It’s Junko Fujita, here for my orientation meeting.”

“Wonderful! Come in, come in. I’ve made sure we’ve got plenty of time to chat – make yourself comfortable!” Director Akikawa called out, a pot of tea already pouring out three cups before Junko could make it past the door. Paired with the delightful display of desserts on the meeting table, you’d think this was a tea party rather than an employee meeting their boss. “Please, help yourself to whatever takes your fancy. Consider it an apology for not being able to meet you yesterday. I imagine it left a less than stellar impression for your first day.”

“Oh, that’s not true at all.” Junko was quick to dismiss, though the hand instinctively reaching for a cookie spoke volumes. Fortunately, Director Akikawa saw no need to mention it, settling for a satisfied smile instead. “Working here has been everything I’ve expected and more. The people I’ve worked with have been great too. I never thought I could have so much fun replacing blankets. I should be thanking you for the opportunity.”

Indeed, when Junko initially heard her first assignment, there had been no small amount of dread. After all, replacing an entire dormitory’s blankets was a monumental task. The only thing that had fuelled her onwards was being told that it was a necessity for the Umamusume to properly regulate their temperatures.

It was only when some of her coworkers shared their secret techniques and began spilling all the gossip they had that Junko found her workload melting away before she realised it. By the time she was finding out about one of the cooks’ secret crushes, a whole set of rooms were cleaned out. If it weren’t for them, Junko could only imagine the kind of hell that would’ve been waiting for her.

“Is that so? Then it seems we’re all winning here.” Director Akikawa said with a noticeable amount of relief in her tone. Enough to make Junko pause, in fact. “Oh my. Is that really such a surprise? A B in housekeeping, An A in cooking, a B-Plus in tailoring: usually we’d be fortunate if somebody excelled in one of those positions. Someone of your calibre is practically a godsend right now.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds way cooler than it is. Most of it is just skills I picked up here and there to save a few coins.” Muttered Junko, turning her eyes away with a cough. Director Akikawa wanted to say it was out of embarrassment, but the shame in that expression was too blatant. Before she could bring the point up though, Junko suddenly pointed towards the tea Director Akikawa was bringing over. “More importantly, what’s the reason for three cups? I wasn’t aware of anyone else coming.”

The answer came in the form of a knock at the door, Akikawa’s smile growing at the sound.

“Well, perhaps that’s someone who can explain for me.” She jokingly commented. “Come in Rudolf! Miss Fujita here’s looking for an introduction!”

“Which means you didn’t inform her of my participation. I should’ve expected that.” The exasperation in Symboli Rudolf’s voice was thankfully offset by her smile, the Umamusume greeting Junko with a firm bow. “Apologies for the delay. My name is Symboli Rudolf, the Student Council President of Tracen Academy. The title probably doesn’t sound like much, but it means I’m quite involved in the day-to-day functions of Tracen.”

When Symboli Rudolf didn’t receive a reply, she looked up in concern. When she was met with an awestruck gaze, however, that concern soon turned into mild amusement. Certainly, her record as a racer was practically unrivalled, but to have someone so openly fangirl over her… that was a novel experience for Symboli Rudolf. Even Tokai Teio no longer showed such blatant admiration.

“…Ah, sorry, I was staring, wasn’t I!?” Junko suddenly blurted out, slapping her cheeks before returning Symboli Rudolf’s bow. “I knew you were Student Council President here, but actually seeing you in person… My father kind of raised me on your races, you know? It’s sort of unreal.”

“Really? I’m glad.” Symboli Rudolf’s reply was paired with a smile that threatened to make Junko’s heart beat out of her chest. How fortunate she was that the Student Council president quickly changed that for a more professional expression. “Unfortunately, this isn’t quite the appropriate time for reminiscing. We should be asking you about whether you have questions or queries about your work. Tazuna’s  given you a tour and introduction to the job, right?”

“Yeah, she was great. Sometimes it felt like she was predicting my questions before I’d even thought of them.” To be expected of the Director of Tracen Academy’s Secretary, Junko supposed. Admittedly, part of that ability was undoubtedly because Tazuna had performed such tours before, but the fact she guided Junko along so effortlessly was still undeniable. “I won’t lie and say the work has been easy, but it’s been fun. That’s more than I could ask for.”

“I say, it takes a strong heart for someone to call a job like this fun! I believe people usually have several more… choice words to describe their early days on the job.” Director Akikawa commented, trying her best to hold back her snicker. She could still remember the time she brought up the comments thought to be made in secret during the staff catch-up meetings. What hilarious faces they had!

“Indeed. that you are able to approach your work with such vigour is a testament to your dedication. Especially considering this wasn’t your first choice of work, correct?” Symboli Rudolf continued, earning a shrug from Junko.

“My original goal was to become a Trainer, but that’s how life goes, I guess. The planet would’ve probably exploded by now if we all got what we wanted am I right?” was her nonchalant answer. At least, it was meant to be nonchalant. Given how quickly Director Akikawa and Symboli Rudolf shared a glance, there was clearly more to be found in those innocuous words.

“I wouldn’t be so certain Miss Fujita! After all, you may never know when life might throw a surprise your way.” Director Akikawa quickly interjected, the sound of her fan slapping her palm adding confusion to Junko’s expression. “You see, as I’m sure Tazuna mentioned in you in your interview, we have remarkable career flexibility within the Academy. Should you wish to pursue your original desires alongside your current duties, there can be accommodations put in place. Study leave, extracurricular courses, shadowing opportunities! Becoming a Trainer might not be as impossible as you make it sound.”

“Really…?” Junko said, eyes staring off into the distance. Sure, they had mentioned it, but she didn’t expect them to push it so openly. “I mean, is that really possible? Tracen Academy’s filled with the best of the best. Someone studying only part-time would barely be even half a normal Trainer.”

“Perhaps under normal circumstances. but you must remember that you are in a very unique position.” Director Akikawa could see Symboli Rudolf shaking her head, but there was no way she could falter here. The opportunity was right in front of her and she knew it. “You, Miss Fujita, are no mere student. You are a certified groom of Tracen Academy. The habits of our student population, the specifics of their diets and clothing, the different fluctuations in the racetrack – the knowledge you will gain from this job is an advantage other Trainers might never gain. Beyond the foundational knowledge of Umamusume racing, what we would be doing is tailoring the knowledge you already have more than teaching anything new.”

“I-I guess when you put it like that…” muttered Junko, only for a firm shake of her head to push the idea out of her mind. So long as her life remained as it was now, her dream was better off staying a delusion. “No, no, I can’t. I don’t think I’m in the right mindset to properly become a Trainer. It would be a disservice to whoever I worked with.”

“Far from it!” Director Akikawa began, yet Symboli Rudolf’s sigh over her teacup had the Director sitting back with a pout.

“Enough diversions, Director. You might as well be straightforward about things.” The Umamusume muttered, only for her ears to suddenly rise. “Or perhaps it would be better to say you should be… ‘Direct-er.’”

Silence. Neither Junko nor Director Akikawa could think of any way to respond to such an out-of-the-blue joke. Symboli Rudolf must’ve been used to that though, for she didn’t hesitate to carry on as if nothing happened.

“Miss Fujita. Do you remember why you were recruited in the first place?”

“People were talking about a huge project that needed way more staff to support it.” Answered Junko before she waved her hands in submission. “And please, just call me Junko. I’m apparently already on first-name terms with Tazuna, so it’d be rude if I didn’t let you guys use it as well.”

“If you wish, Junko.” Wow. Hearing Symboli Rudolf say Junko’s name out loud was kind of surreal. Getting used to these famous figures chatting with her wasn’t going to be easy. “Either way, you are correct abut that project. It’s a tremendous one – one that plans to give hope to every Umamusume who participates. No matter their turf speciality or distance preference, everyone will be able to say they have a fair chance of reaching the highest echelon of racing. However, tradition and ambition mean that there are some Umamusume that Trainers will shun regardless. Umamusume who are seemingly subpar or prove too much of a bad omen.”

A subpar Umamusume…” even just repeating the words left a foul flavour on Junko’s tongue. That was the way you talked about products, not people. Sure, they may be participating in a competitive sport, but did that have to mean that those who were less capable should be treated as lesser? Talk like that said more about the Trainer than the Umamusume to Junko.

“However, even if those Umamusume cannot attain first place, or even if they appear to have bad luck, they still wish to run. Regardless of how much is said behind their backs and in front, that desire should never be allowed to die.” Symboli Rudolf continued, her hands tightening into fists. “Which is why, if a so-called ‘proper’ Trainer will not accept them, we shall have to find another person. Another person that could be yourself, Junko, who can guide them and make them flourish without any trivial worries over reputation and success rate.”

Junko glanced over to Director Akikawa, the woman responding with a firm nod.

“Rest assured that I won’t push you for an answer now. You’re clearly not ready to give it and you need more time to settle into your current role.” Symboli Rudolf said, rising from her seat with a proud expression. Could even a gesture as simple as that appear inspiring? Apparently so.  “Should the desire to utilise your skills ever arise, however, I know there are Umamusume who would welcome you with open arms.”

The hesitant silence that followed was to be expected. Nobody came into a job expecting to be told that their original dream career was available on the second day of working. Frankly, it was miracle that Junko’s brain was still working; weaker men would’ve been reduced to mush by now, either through the insane proposal or the sheer charisma of Symboli Rudolf. Even so, to not give some sort of answer would be rude.

Thus, Junko’s lips parted.

Chapter Text

If anyone asked what Junko was doing at the moment, she would answer by saying she was testing the Going.

To be more specific, she was roaming the racetrack to make sure that every inch of the field had the appropriate level of drainage, grass and cushioning to ensure the safety and optimal racing of those who ran on it. With a measuring wheel in one hand and an impact hammer in the other, it was Junko’s job to measure how well the track responded to the various forces exerted by a running limb – a rather grandiose sounding job that essentially boiled down to walking a few steps, dropping a weight on the ground and recording whatever numbers the hammer spat out.

She definitely wasn’t brooding. Of course she wasn’t. why would she be brooding?

Now, if only Keita could be convinced of that.

“So, she’s been like this all day?” Keita asked the woman beside him, earning himself a small nod.

“Ever since she came out of that meeting of hers. The Director and Student Council President must’ve been rough on her.” Was all the woman could answer with before she returned to her own duties. That meant Keita was left to gaze out across the racetrack by himself, the slowly plodding form in the distance standing out on such a beautiful day.

It probably wasn’t a scolding. From what Keita had seen and heard of Junko’s work, she had been devoted from the very beginning. That was the kind of thing President Rudolf and Director Akikawa craved. Plus, there simply wasn’t enough time for Junko to have done anything wrong. Considering she was only two days into the job, it was a greater miracle that everything had gone okay. Trial and error were a natural part of being a newcomer to a role; neither woman would yell at a worker for something so trivial.

Regardless of the cause though, there was only one thing Keita could do in a situation like this.

“Oi, Junko! Wait up!” Keita called out, trying his best to run over to her position. Considering the significant distance between the two though, it wasn’t quite as cool as Keita was aiming for. Truthfully, having arrived bright red while huffing and puffing like a steam engine, it was more adorable than anything. “Are… Are – actually just give me... give me a minute…. Are you okay?”

The correct response would be for Junko to say she was fine. That the only thing dragging her down was the monotony of measuring cushioning, slide and impact firmness. It was the sort of thing that could be smoothed over with a playful ruffling of Keita’s hair and a teasing tone. So why was it that her hand hesitated? That what little confidence she could muster died before it passed her lips?

“… I think I gave up my greatest opportunity.” Junko eventually muttered before a sardonic laugh escaped. “I also think I made the right decision, and I can’t tell which one hurts most.”

Not exactly what Keita had been planning to hear then. He had been hoping for something like ‘I missed up an important person’s name’ or ‘I accidentally spilled tea on President Rudolf’. At least he could give some sort of encouragement for something on those lines. Where on Earth was he meant to go with that kind of admission?

“Would it help if I grabbed us a lemonade? I know where the best vending machine around here is.” He suggested, fully aware of how lame it sounded. Thankfully, the only result was Junko’s hand upon his shoulder.

“Probably not, but I appreciate the effort.” Junko answered, taking a deep breath. “I just need time to come to terms with the bad decisions I make. And the chance to vent. Venting sounds really good right now.”

“Then why not vent to me? I’m a good listener?” in fact, there were plenty who happily spilled their thoughts and feelings to Keita throughout the student populace. Call it a part of his innate charm; there was just something about the kid that made it easy for the students to talk openly with him. It was just a shame that Junko wasn’t a student.

“’Cause you’re a kid, Keita. You should be learning from good examples, not listening to my failings as an adult.” Junko dismissively replied, punctuated by a soft punch to Keita’s shoulder and a grin. “If you want to be useful though, I could use a second pair of hands to record these numbers. Always having to swap between writing and testing is getting kind of tedious. Come on.”

Keita’s initial reaction was to deny the fact he was a child. A child wouldn’t be able to do all the things he did at Tracen Academy, after all. Watching Junko’s back as she tried to walk away, however, another thing entirely burst forth from his mouth.

“It hurts, trying to smile like that. But you don’t want to stop smiling, because then the people around you will do the same and you don’t want to burden them.”

It wasn’t a question. It was the sort of statement that could only be spoken with complete confidence. Certainly not the sort of thing that should be coming out of a child’s mouth. Hearing Keita speak with experience that his years should not have brought him, it was no wonder Junko paused.

“It’s always like that. You always think ‘they have their own troubles, why should I force them to deal with mine as well?’ and clam up. Laugh it off as nothing serious and carry on alone. It’s easier for everyone that way. Everyone except yourself.” Keita continued, eyes having long since turned to the ground. “It took me a long time to figure that last part out.”

“…You really want me to nag your ear off?” Junko said in reply, her words barely audible as Keita took a step forward. Sure, she may not have turned back to face him, but at least she wasn’t walking off anymore. “’Cause if this is just about not being called a kid, I’m happy to-”

“I want you to feel better. And if, when you’re feeling better, you want to talk about what’s going on, that would be great too.” Answered Keita, determination bringing a new strength to his posture. “But right now, I want to be whatever might help you reach that point. What that is, I don’t know yet, but neither of us will if you keep trying to pretend the pain will go away by itself. Being a kid or not doesn’t matter here – you do.”

For every second that ticked by, Keita felt his resolve fading. Was his first time giving such an impassioned speech going to be a bust? Given how Junko had yet to turn around, he couldn’t quite tell. Even so, anyone who gazed upon Keita would’ve noticed something significant: regardless of how much his nerves shook him, his back never wavered.

Such was why Junko suddenly turning to the side and raising her arm caught Keita so off guard.

“…Oi, Boss! Mind if I take my fifteen? Looks like I’m gonna be babysitting for a sec!” she cried out, the supervisor stood in the middle raising a thumbs up.

“Go for it! You’ve worked hard today!”

“You heard the man. Let’s go,” seeing Keita stood frozen, Junko couldn’t stop herself from flashing him the tiniest smile. Sure, there was still pain within it, but it was no longer trying to hide away. That was something Keita could call a victory. “And show me that vending machine of yours. I really could use a lemonade right about now.”

“Is that a segway?”

“Yep. Don’t ask where she got it from.”

“And is that girl screaming into a tree stump?”

“Kind of a tradition around here. Figured you’d want the option nearby.”

Turns out, parking your butt on a bench and casually shooting out menial questions was a pretty good way to clear the mind. While her initial days had gotten her used to how Tracen Academy functioned, there hadn’t really been a chance to just stop and admire the surroundings. Watching everyone simply go about their days, noticing the little quirks of student life – it was an unexpected pleasure for Junko.

Then her eyes fell upon a lively pair chatting as the strolled past and her mood suddenly plummeted. Well, that wasn’t entirely right. It was better to say that the wheelchair one of them was in was responsible for that.

“These girls really are incredible, aren’t they?” Junko asked aloud, sipping at the can in her hand. “Here they are breaking their bodies for their dreams and I’m sitting here doubting myself over nothing. Guess my troubles must sound like a baby throwing a tantrum to them.”

“Why do you say that?” Keita replied, cradling his own unopened can. “If it’s bugging you this much, it can’t be nothing. Even if it’s important to one person, that still means it’s important.”

“I’m being offered the chance to be incredible and turning it down.” Answered Junko with a scoff before half of her can was poured down her throat. Hardly the prettiest thing to look at, but it mattered little to her right then. “I must sound ungrateful as hell.”

“But you have a reason, right?”

“Sure. Do I have a good one? Still deciding.” With that said, Junko turned her eyes to the sky. If not, she wouldn’t be able to get that image of a wheelchair-bound person out of her head. “…See, my dad’s currently in hospital because of me.”

Now that was something Keita couldn’t comment on. With those words alone, it seemed as if every sound around them died. All he could do was give the faintest of nods as Junko continued to speak.

“Ever since Mum died when I was young, Dad hasn’t been able to look after himself properly. That meant it was up to me to keep the family afloat.” She muttered. “Problem was, I was a kid still in school in a family with no income. You can imagine how well that went down. Luckily, I managed to pick up some bits and pieces here and there to make life a little easier, but there was only so much I could do.”

“’Bits and pieces’ is kind of an understatement.” Keita remarked, mostly to himself. In his mind, ‘bits and pieces’ meant fixing a pair of jeans, maybe replacing a set of curtains. Handling all sorts of housework with the ease needed to pass Tracen Academy’s tests with flying colours definitely didn’t fall under that banner.

“Either way, it wasn’t enough. It eventually reached the point where Dad needed to go to hospital. My care wasn’t enough.” Junko replied, a hand held over her eyes even if a tea had yet to fall. “That’s why I had to give up being a trainer in the first place. How the hell was I meant to pay for all that education when I was struggling to pay for Dad’s care? Being a racing groom was the closest I could get while still having an immediate paycheck.”

“In that case… shouldn’t this be the best-case scenario?” Keita couldn’t help but ask. “I mean, you can do whatever this ‘incredible’ thing is and be paid for it at the same time. If what I’m hearing’s right, then that’s the best of both worlds. You should be ecstatic. Why are you hesitating?”

“…Because agreeing…” the words that followed basically silent, Keita forced to shuffle closer as he strained to hear what came next from Junko.

“…Would mean caring for somebody else.”

That is when everything clicked for Keita. It was one thing to be responsible for general housework like a racing groom. Having a direct influence over somebody though? That was an entirely different matter.

“The Director asked you to be a trainer, didn’t she?” the question didn’t need to be said, yet the words escaped Keita’s lips regardless.

“For two Umamusume. She and Rudolf were really considerate too. Said that I didn’t need to worry about my reputation or win rate as long as they could run as they wanted.” Junko’s tone finally began to tremble, Keita rushing to find the napkins he had stuffed into his pocket. “But when I think of what my care ended up doing to my Dad, I don’t know if I can even do that much. How am I meant to take charge of others when I can barely make decisions for myself?”

An answer naturally didn’t come easily. Anything Keita could say from the top of his mind would be nothing more than an insult to Junko’s ears. Such is why he settled for slouching down in his seat, eyes closing as he pondered.

“…So, you’re saying that you can’t go through with it because you might end up being in a situation you regret?” Keita eventually said, earning himself a small nod. “And if you choose not to do it, you’ll still end up regretting things. In that case, if the end result is going to be the same, isn’t the choice obvious?”

“Huh?”

“When you can’t think straight, sometimes the best thing to do is break things down to pure logic.” Keita explained haltingly, holding out his hands. “In the worst-case scenario, one path is trying your best and failing, which leads you to regretting. The other path is doing nothing, which also leads you to regretting. In the first one, at least you could say you tried your best even if things didn’t work out. If you don’t do anything and still regret, isn’t that unfair? And that’s not even taking into account what could happen if you’re good at your job.”

“But the Umamusume-” Junko tried to interject, only for a swift shake of Keita’s head to block her.

“Are in the exact same situation as you. On one path, they’re given the chance to run and end up failing. Fair enough, that’s incredibly depressing. But on the other, they don’t even get to fail. They don’t get anything.” The words were cold, and Keita knew it. In any other situation, there was no way he could be so blunt in front of somebody, let alone someone so vulnerable. When that person was stuck in their own mind, however, brute force could be the only way to break down the walls they’ve put around themselves. “Even if you end up being the worst trainer ever and take away their chance to win, isn’t it worse to take away their chance to fail as well?”

At that moment, Keita knew that getting punched directly in the face was a very real possibility. Especially considering the fact that they didn’t even know each other 2 days ago, speaking so forcefully was bound to earn himself some ire. Such is why when Junko’s hand slowly raised into the air, Keita did little more than brace himself for impact.

Consequently, when the hand landed so softly upon his shoulders, Keita wasn’t quite sure how to react.

“Wait here, okay? Just need to do something real quick.” Junko requested, and who was Keita to say no? Thus, as Junko slowly walked into the distance, Keita was left rather confused until he saw her grip the sides of the stump someone else had been screaming into before.

 As you can imagine, the noise that followed could not be easily put into words. Anguish, confusion, disappointment: there were plenty of emotions that could be picked out if one listened carefully enough. All mixed together, however, there was only one thing that could come close to encapsulating what came out of Junko’s mouth: indiscriminate. An indiscriminate scream that forced out every emotion plaguing her mind. No wonder there was a visible relief in Junko’s posture when she returned to the bench.

“Thanks for that Keita. I needed someone to give me a kick up the ass. Didn’t expect it to be you, but that’s probably what made it more effective.” Junko groaned as she slumped down to Keita’s level, the rest of her lemonade practically thrown down her throat.

“Then do you think you’ll do it?” that was the important question after all.

“…I’ll need more time to think about it. It’s not like these kinds of concerns disappear straight away, right?” was Junko’s reply. A little bit evasive, but nothing too concerning. No, what was more concerning was the time Junko saw when she glanced at her watch. “Oh crap, it’s been twenty minutes! Sorry Keita, but I need to get back to work! I’ll give it some more thought though, okay?”

“That’s all I can ask for.” Keita said, shuffling away slightly to avoid Junko’s flailing as she launched herself off the bench. Was that her way of trying to avoid a straight answer? It wasn’t like she was lying. The timing sure was convenient though… “No, I’ve done all that I can. The rest will be up to her.”

There’s no point in engaging with someone who doesn’t want to engage. If Junko really was going to change, she’d have to show that willingness herself. Fortunately, Keita could think of the perfect opportunity for her to prove that. It was just a matter of bringing her over in a way that didn’t involve her working behind the scenes, but that was a Director Akikawa problem, not a Keita one. He could afford to sit back and pray that his words were as effective as Junko claimed they were.

“My words, huh?”

“You’ve got to think about it logically, Keita! I need to make sure your big sis Maruzensky has every opportunity to shine that we can get our hands on. We might not always have a chance of winning, but it’d be unfair if I took away her chance of losing as well.”

Keita quickly shook his head, a sharp slap to his cheek trying to knock the memories away.

“No. I’m not like that man. I’m not like that man at all.”

Chapter Text

“Is it just me, or are things getting crazier around here?” Junko questioned, the extra height of her elevated position giving her a perfect view of the steady crowds surrounding her. Admittedly, having the upper half of her body sprawled across the carriage roof she was washing wasn’t exactly the most comfortable viewing position, but that was a small price to pay for such a sight. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the track so full before.”

“Did you forget that the Selection Showcase is coming up soon? We’ve got students and rookies training their butts off.” Maki answered, proudly admiring her reflection in the carriage’s brass. To be fair, it wasn’t entirely unwarranted given the ridiculous state the thing had arrived in. “Plus, the Umamusume are going through an absolute gauntlet with all those races. They’ll need all the training they can get if they want to stand out.”

Indeed, the Selection Showcase with its aim of having potential students experience as many race conditions as possible was perhaps one of the most crucial experiences in an Umamusume’s life. Not only was it the perfect opportunity for them to understand their own limitations and establish which disciplines they were aiming for, it also gave trainers the chance to scout any future champions. That alone would be enough to send hordes towards the racetracks, to say nothing of the older crowd trying their best after getting their previous trainer contracts cancelled.

“Oh, that’s right, we’re heading towards September now. Seems like time’s been flying by recently.” Junko subconsciously replied, the subdued tone causing Maki to look up and see the mild smile on her face.

“You okay up there? You’ve been looking kind of spotty for a while now.” Maki called out, leaning against the carriage while folding her arms. “It’s been two weeks or so, right? I wouldn’t be surprised if the homesickness is starting to kick in. You did mention living pretty far away.”

Well, it would be a lie to say that wasn’t true. Naturally, the food and landscapes of Tracen Academy were insane by any measure, but that didn’t mean Junko couldn’t miss the flavour and fields of home. She’d have to see whether the kitchen would uphold their promise to let Junko whip something up in their down time.

On the other hand, however, it would also be a lie to say that was the whole cause. Such is why Junko chose to settle for a dismissive wave.

“No need to worry about me. Just realising how much work we’ve all done to get here in such little time.” She said, pulling herself up so she could sit on the part of the roof she had yet to wash. Being able to kick her legs freely was way more comfortable for Junko than trying to keep her balance on a ladder. “I was so focused on doing a good job, I never stop to think about why we were doing so many empty rooms and cleaning the facilities so rigorously. It feels like some sort of culmination, you know? Like our efforts are about to mean something.”

“Fair enough. You haven’t had the easiest start, have you? Constantly being thrown around the place doing event prep.” Sighed Maki, shaking her head. “Well, just look on the bright side. Once the Selection Showcase is over, we should be down to just training races for a decent while. Most of the major races are gonna be at regional courses, so our work should get a little easier from here on out.”

“Please tell me you didn’t just jinx us like that.” When the response to Junko’s warning was Maki sticking out her tongue, it was only natural for Junko to burst out laughing. “If anything crazy happens now, I’m absolutely stealing your dessert tonight.”

“You’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands!” Maki swore, Junko’s eyes immediately narrowing.

“Don’t say that like I wouldn’t.”

“Excuse me, did I just hear a threat right now?”

“Maki, that was a promise.”

Fortunately, before things could devolve into the play-fight they were building up to be, a sharp cough from their supervisor had both women scrambling to attention.

“Working hard as always I see.” You couldn’t possibly shove more sarcasm into those words if you tried. Both Junko and Maki had the decency to look embarrassed when they heard that coming from their supervisor’s lips. “Consider yourselves lucky, the staff meeting’s nearly here. Apparently, the stuff they’ll be talking about’s important, so I don’t want to waste my energy here. Clean up and head out.”

“Right!” both called out, but it was Maki who first broke formality as a yawn escaped her.

“What do you think this big meeting’s about anyway?” she asked Junko as they walked. “They don’t usually gather everyone together like this unless it’s real big. Like, ‘major changes’ big.”

“Don’t ask me. I’m as clueless as you.” Was all Junko could reply with, only for Maki’s suspicious expression to make her pause. “Wh-What?”

“Your face just changed.” There wasn’t even an ounce of hesitation in that statement, Junko practically sweating bullets under the sheer certainty in Maki’s stare. Thank goodness it was more of a friendly interrogation than serious. “You just went super serious for a sec when I mentioned major things, I can tell. You know something.”

“I wouldn’t say that. It’s more of a hunch, really.” Junko was quick to reassure, holding her hand up in surrender. When Maki’s stare failed to abate, however, Junko could no longer meet her eyes. “If it’s what I think it is though… let’s just say you might as well choose a dessert you know I’ll like tonight.”

Where was Junko meant to stand?

Swarmed by bodies on every side, it was enough of a tribulation just trying not to get jostled about as she manoeuvred through the hall, not at all helped by the numerous rows of chairs that had been added. By the time she stumbled her way towards one of the walls, Junko was already halfway towards panting. You really couldn’t underestimate how many staff was required to maintain Tracen Academy; it just made all of Symboli Rudolf and Director Akikawa’s praises for Junko feel all the more outlandish.

At any rate, the view was surprisingly good from Junko’s position. Slightly elevated thanks to standing on a bench, Junko needed little effort to spot several Student council members milling about. Tokai Teio smoothly chatting with several staff members, Air Groove directing people without a moment’s hesitation, Narita Brian meeting Junko’s eyes dead on – wait, what?

“Now then, if I could have your attention, please!” Director Akikawa’s voice cried out through the speaker, silence immediately dominating the hall as the stragglers rushed to their seats. Despite her diminutive size, the Director attained her position for a reason. “Firstly, allow me to thank you yet again for your service! Though the past year has thrown some unprecedented weather conditions and supply chain concerns, your diligent effort has allowed us to weather each and every storm. With that said, you deserve an update on how Tracen Academy aims to further its goals for the next five-year period…”

What followed could only be called a cavalcade of misery. Unable to do anything beyond listen and sup on the complimentary snacks and drinks, Junko was forced to try and keep her eyes open as head after head explained their department’s goals and intended actions. Such formal meandering was an expected necessity, of course  - her father had long since prepared Junko for this kind of drivel – but that didn’t mean the solid hour of talking was any less of a trial to survive.

About the only thing that had made the situation somewhat intriguing had been when Symboli Rudolf had taken to the stage. A strange choice out of context, but given how much influence the Student Council bore, it would’ve been a crime to leave them out. Their statistics on total races undertaken in each location, what racing conditions they were hoping to promote, how they were planning on supporting the students directly – there was a clear passion bereft of corporate influence that shone brightly in every word. The fact that several members had the chance to talk also helped to break up the monotony.

It was just a shame that Narita Brian’s constant stare in Junko’s direction made it hard to focus. Whether it was because her stoic nature made her refuse or she had nothing meaningful to add, the Umamusume had stayed back the whole time. Perfectly reasonable, had that time not been spent so blatantly gazing upon Junko. Without the option of leaving her seat, however, Junko could only go over the past week or so and try to figure out how she had interacted with Narita Brian, let alone attracted such unrelenting attention.

“Thank you for your patience, everyone. I imagine we all could use a break to stretch our legs. I’d say… return in fifteen minutes, alright?” fortunately, Director Akikawa’s declaration came at the best time. Junko wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to hold herself together. The Director’s sentence had barely finished before Junko was already in front of the snacks table distracting herself with picking the best options.

“I would go with the macarons. They’re especially good this time.”

Really? Then I might as – Narita Brian!?” perhaps screaming so loud wasn’t the most appropriate response to the situation. Already, Junko could see several people whispering with their eyes glued to her. The fact that several more had sympathetic expressions though showed the response was a reasonable one. With the stage at the front and the snacks table at the back, Narita Brian had to have moved at incredible speed to reach Junko in so little time. Without a single sound too.  As expected of an Umamusume whose very presence on the racetrack could cripple racing careers. “Er, I mean. Thanks for the recommendation.”

“You met my eyes well. I had heard that they were wavering, but there is a light in them yet.” Said Narita Brian and despite mentally screaming, Junko still managed to respond with a smile. Did this girl have no sense of how a conversation should flow? Oh, how desperately Junko wanted to admit that she didn’t have much of a choice either way. The least Narita Brian could do was change her face from the stoic features she spoke with.

“I’ve had a lot on my mind.” Was all Junko could muster, Narita Brian nodding as she crossed her arms. Paired with the way she chewed the reed in her mouth, it gave off  more of a delinquent’s vibes than that of a Student Council Vice President.

“Rudolf informed me. It reminded me of my own situation.” The statement made Junko pause slightly. This was Narita Brian, after all, someone who could wear the title of ‘Monster’ with pride. Strong intimidating, unapproachable; hesitation shouldn’t have been part of her vocabulary. The fact that someone so capable could admit as much without shame was… kind of reassuring, actually. It wasn’t like Narita Brian was going to lie to her – not with the reputation for bluntness she bore. “I have stolen the light from the eyes of many, to the point where I sought to leave the racing world as penance. I know the feeling of bringing down others well.”

Of course. Junko could see it now. The way Narita Brian so relentlessly pushed forward, even the brightest were bound to feel threatened by it. Racers dropping out after experiencing something like that was practically guaranteed. The tears left in Narita Brian’s wake could probably flood a river, whether they be from Umamusume, trainer or fan. It's just easy to let such a fact slip your mind when you’re so busy cheering for the winner.

“Thanks to the efforts of my trainer and sister, however, I have learned the truth: that this despair is no end, but the igniting spark that makes passion burn brighter.” Narita Brian continued, her hand clenched into a fist and thrust in Junko’s direction. Quite the impressive gesture, so long as one forgot about how they were in the middle of what was essentially a business meeting. Then again, Narita Brian never did show much concern for such petty etiquette anyway. “I will say the same to you, before you are forced to learn through experience as I have. A warrior does not fight without expecting scars. Any failures you produce will be motivation for the future. That is why you must not relent before you have even begun.”

“...I appreciate the sentiment, I’m just not sure why everyone keeps pushing for me.” was Junko’s reply. It didn’t sound so weak in her mind, but the power of Narita Brian’s speech just made the contrast all the more evident. “I mean, it could be anyone, right?”

“No.” Narita Brian declared immediately. “Unlike the rest, you have the talents to succeed. Whatever has made you hesitate, you have the strength to surpass it as well. Even if you don’t, the people around you can  make up for the slack. Remember that.”

To be honest, it didn’t really matter what Junko’s response was. Mostly because Narita Brian left without a second to spare after grabbing a macaron for herself, but also because Junko knew whatever came from her mouth would lack any sort of persuasive power.

“Never one to mince her words, is she?” thankfully, Symboli Rudolf’s voice was quick to shake Junko out of her funk. Admittedly, it also made her wonder just what it was with higher powers and greeting her so casually, but that was a question for another time. “I should apologise. Brian has never been good with speaking.”

“Oh no, she made some good points.” Junko answered. Sure, they were delivered bluntly and kind of out of nowhere, but they were still good.

“Is that so?” there was clearly more Symboli Rudolf had to say, but the ticking hands of the clock would not allow it. All that she could do was leave with a smile, Junko blinking twice before making her way back to her seat. She would just have to make do with whatever snacks she could randomly grab alongside the macaron Narita Brian had suggested. Better that than wasting time pondering what that look was meant to mean.

“Welcome back everyone! Hopefully, you’re all fully rested and restored, because the project I’m about to speak out is the main reason why you’ve all been called here today.” Director Akikawa said, her eyes falling shut as the room was plunged into a dramatic silence for a moment. Hardly necessary, but exactly the Director’s style from what Junko had seen. “For those of you work on the front lines, you might have noticed an increase in your workloads. For that, I apologise. It’s not that we were feeling particularly vindictive, but that we are planting the seeds for an incredible project: an entirely new set of races beyond the Twinkle Series!”

“Wait, is she serious? We’re going to make a new series of races just like that?”

“If this goes through, it’s really going to shake up the calendar, isn’t it?”

“That’s insane. How much planning went into things before this big announcement?”

“All distances, all courses! It’s a racing event unlike any before it!” Director Akikawa seemed to revel in the confusion and disbelief that she wrought. “And its name shall be… the URA Finale! Or it shall be, should you all feel comfortable with the concept. It would be ignorant of me to introduce such a thing without consulting those who would be most affected.  Thus, as the men and women who know how this academy functions best, I ask of you: is this a dream you’re willing to believe in?”

Perhaps the answer wasn’t quite as unanimous as Director Akikawa had hoped, for the mixed whispers that entered her ears weren’t particularly enthusiastic. Thankfully, Junko didn’t see a need to join in with them; an offer as unique as a dual career path could only be born of significant circumstances. That was why she could see how Director Akikawa’s fan faltered slightly.

“I understand the reluctance. To thrust this upon you as I have is probably not what you were expecting of this meeting.” Director Akikawa stated before a sudden poise filled her posture. “Which is why I’d like to pose a question to you. Have you ever known regret?”

That managed to quieten down the crowds. Who didn’t know it? To go through life without regret required either inhumane conviction or an ignorance more pitiful than enviable. Junko was far from the only one who had gone through the trainer-to-groom pipeline, to say nothing of all the other roles represented in the room right then.

“’I want to win the Classic Crown’. ‘I want to be centre during a Winning Live’. ‘I want to stand undefeated by the end of my career’. These are lines we have heard countless times from students passing through our hallways.” Said Director Akikawa. Indeed, Junko had heard them several times in a single day. Anyone who couldn’t dream so loftily wouldn’t have worked hard enough to survive Tracen’s Selection Showcase. “However, just as many times have I seen Umamusume and trainer alike in tears as those dreams get shattered. Maybe the distance was just a little too long, or rain that day had turned a reliable track treacherous. Whatever the case, it often leads to just one line: ‘I am better than this!’”

A prominent case immediately sprung to Junko’s mind: Sakura Bakushin-Oh. That girl was a champion when it came to her favoured sprints. In fact, when it came to her win record, there was only a single one where she had come anywhere but first. As soon as the distance grew, however, Sakura Bakushin-Oh didn’t stand a chance. She simply didn’t have the stamina for it. That alone eliminated so many G1 races, she had somehow earned the paradoxical title of ‘too fast for her time’. If she was allowed to shine in her discipline, how much more adoration could she have earned?

“The URA Finale shall eliminate such thoughts. So long as they have the fan votes to participate. a dirt sprinter will have just as much chance of succeeding as a turf mile-runner, or anything in between. Now tell me, is that a future you’re willing to help me achieve?”

Junko stood from her seat and clapped. She was far from the only one.

Truthfully, it was a foregone conclusion. No matter how much people groaned about extra work or the practicalities, nobody was seriously going to argue against more equal opportunities. The sheer dedication and conviction dripping from Director Akikawa’s tone merely turned what initially appeared to be a child’s desires into a tangible possibility.

“…Thank you. Each and every one of you.” That was why Director Akikawa’s thanks held as much genuine appreciation as she could muster, that very same energy empowering her as she flung papers out into the awaiting audience. “In that case, there is no time to hesitate! Managers, prepare to delegate these new duties, for our journey begins with our grandest Selection Showcase yet!”

Chapter Text

“A first aider, huh? I know I did the training, but I never thought I’d have to put the certificate to use.” Junko mused as she adjusted her cap in the mirror, trying her best to get used to the foreign presence. Work had gotten her used to sunglasses every now and then, but having a full-blown hat on was a rarity for her. To have one that was also as fancy as the one Tracen supplied? That had never occurred to Junko, let alone happened. If this was how the sideline staff were being decorated, she could only wonder how fashionable the frontline folk were. “Well, hopefully I won't have to put it to use...”

“We’re not asking you to be a vet or anything. There are people trained up specifically for that. What they’re asking you to do is keep an eye out for any potential accidents and be ready to provide immediate aid should there be an injury. Worst case scenario? You’ll be there to patch things up until proper medical help arrives. Best case scenario? You’ll have a free front row seat to the racing action.”

“Oi, Junko! You dressed yet? We’re heading off early, so meet us there!” a colleague’s voice calling through the door shook Junko from her reverie, Junko giving one last tug on her tailcoat before she was satisfied. Not a wrinkle could be seen; only the pristine white of her breeches and dress shirt alongside the blacks of her boots, coat and hat. Add in the purple lining symbolic of Tracen academy and Junko made for a far more dashing figure than she realised.

“Will do! Just need to make a call first!” Junko yelled back, waiting for the muffled response and the sound of heels walking away before she pulled out her phone. It wasn’t as if there was any particular need for privacy, but these phone calls were always a precious moment. They were better off done in a more intimate environment.

[Junko! What are you doing, wasting your time on the phone? I thought you’d be standing in front of the adoring crowds by now.] Junko felt a smile subconsciously sneak onto her lips as she heard the familiar voice. Was it a little stronger than before? The difference wasn’t particularly significant, but any improvement was a welcome one.

“Just wanted to hear your voice again, Dad. Build up my courage a bit.” was Junko’s reply, leaning back against the wall. “Besides, you remember what I told you last time, right? I’m just there for medical support. Everything goes right and I’m just a viewer.”

[Right, right of course. A viewer put there by the Director of the Academy herself. You’re really getting up there in the world.] said Junko’s Father, pride evident in every word.

Then again, he was the type of man who could make anything Junko did sound like a miracle among miracles. Excellent for the self-esteem when she was five – maybe not so much nowadays. Still, it wasn’t as if he was entirely wrong. She could still remember the shock that had been painted on Ryusei’s face as their supervisor informed them of their roles.

“That’s a pretty big responsibility to just drop onto a rookie. Are you sure you got the right thing, Sir?”

“”You don’t think I asked the same when I got it? It came straight from the Director herself. Let’s just treat it as a sign of trust, yeah?”

“You make it sound like a bigger deal than it is. They just needed an extra hand and I was the only one with a fancy certificate.” Junko quickly dismissed, though her father didn’t miss the strange tone that coloured that statement.

[Do you think you could say that with more confidence this time?] he joking uttered, Junko’s resulting silence drawing a weak chuckle from him. [You need to start believing in yourself more. Everyone else can see how brilliant you are. I just need you to see it as well.]

“...Thanks Dad.” whispered Junko, thankful that they were speaking over the phone. One look at her misty eyes and her father would be all over her trying to comfort her. “How are you doing then? You’ve been making real good progress recently.”

[Oh, me? You know how it is. Nothing much changes with me.] Junko wished her father wouldn’t always play down his condition like that. Voicing that, however, wasn't exactly something she was willing to do given what consequences it could bring. [I think I’ve gotten used to sitting in the cafeteria now. As long as I have my phone to distract me, I should be okay for a while.]

“You don’t feel lonely? Have you tried eating with anyone else?” Junko asked, knowing full well that her father was giving a dismissive wave to the phone.

[I’ve got you, don’t I? As long as I know you’re doing well, that’s all I need.] So no, he hadn’t tried eating with anyone else then. Junko had to hold back her sigh. Maybe his condition was worse than she thought.  {Don’t worry about me Junko. You’ve got bigger things to deal with. Taking part in Tracen Academy’s Selection Showcase... your mum would be so proud of you. Just like me.]

“I’ll have to make sure I live up to everyone’s expectations then.” answered Junko, turning away from the phone for a moment. Of course he’d bring up Mum. “You should tune in as well, Dad. You probably won’t see me, but it’ll be a good time waster, right?”

[I’ll try my best. I need a good excuse not to take so many naps.] Junko’s Father replied, undoubtedly with a goofy grin lining his lips. [Now get out there and save some lives! Love you, Junko.]

“Again, not my job!” Junko yelled down the line, shaking her head before exasperation gave way to affection. “And love you too, Dad. Talk to you later.”

Junko didn’t immediately move once she put the phone down. Stood in place as a thousand thoughts flew through her mind, she couldn’t have done much even if she tried. It was only when she gave a sharp slap to her own cheeks that Junko finally began to shake away the emotions plaguing her mind, each step out of the staff dorms more confident than the last. After all, she had to keep moving forward. The alternative was letting everything Junko thought she’d put behind her catch up.

In doing so, she failed to notice the head of dark hair running in the opposite direction, ears lowered as a trail of tears fell behind them.

Words could not have prepared Junko for the sheer insanity of the Selection Showcase. Sure, she had been to events before, but anything larger than the local races had mainly been seen through the TV screen. Actually being there in person? It was a whole new level of confounding. Having to twist and slide your way around so many bodies and stalls, Junko could barely recognise the same paths she’d been walking down for weeks now.

Fortunately, with most visitors scrambling to find the best seats in the house, the training areas found themselves relatively abandoned. Why wouldn’t they be, when most participating Umamusume wouldn’t dare waste their energy before such a significant event? If they were still in need of a practice run by this point, they might as well give their place up on the spot.

At least, that was what Junko thought until she saw a head of pink hair steadily jogging their way across the turf.

It wasn’t a particularly inspiring run. With a gait that held little resemblance to any form of rhythm and desperate panting that made the run sound like torture, it was clear that the Umamusume was far from peak condition. It was no wonder that Junko found herself slipping through the fencing by the time they threw their body over the finish line.

“Oi, can you hear me?” Junko immediately shouted, hands quick to start furiously shaking the Umamusume’s shoulders. Luckily, the incoherent sounds that came out of the Umamusume’s mouth was a good sign – if nothing else, she was still breathing properly. “Thank goodness. You should be looking after yourself a little more. You’re here to take part in the Selection Showcase, right?”

“…Hehe, that’s why I'm training so hard! This is the least you can do if you want to make it to the big leagues!” the words were split between heavy breaths, but it did little to diminish the excitement held within them. Regardless of how much the Umamusume’s body protested, it seemed as if the light within those eyes would never be dulled. Seeing such a stark contrast to the fallen mess mere seconds before, Junko was momentarily taken aback. “Thanks for checking on me though, Miss...?”

“Junko. I’ll be watching over you racers as part of the medical crew. In case things like this happen, apparently.” Junko said. She wasn’t purposefully trying to make her words sound so hurtful, but the sight of the Umamusume’s ears falling did make her regret the statement. “Do you mind if I take your shoes off? Considering how hard you were racing, there’s a decent chance of bruising.”

“Oh, sure!” Were she less preoccupied, Junko might’ve been more concerned by how easily the Umamusume capitulated. As it was, however, Junko was too busy gently rubbing a pair of tender soles.

“Yup, as I thought. Your heels are looking a little bit red. The heel quarters in front too.” Junko muttered, eyes turning downward to the culprits most likely responsible. “How old are these shoes? They look like they’ve seen a few races.”

“Ah, I got these from my parents! They said they’ve been in the family for a long time, like a good luck charm.” The Umamusume cheerfully replied, before a more bashful expression took over. “We may not have much money to spare for new shoes, but I feel like I can run ten times faster in these ones!”

“You shouldn’t be if they haven’t been customised for you." At the Umamusume’s confused look, Junko tried her best to aim for a motherly tone. Being too aggressive just didn’t feel right in this situation.  “Wearing the wrong type of shoe can affect how the pressure is distributed across your foot. That’ll make it easier to bruise or break skin. If you haven’t had those shoes customised to suit you specifically, then running too hard could be dangerous.”

“Dangerous!?” now that managed to catch the Umamusume’s attention, ears standing tall. “But I don’t have any other shoes... is there anything I can do?”

“The best answer would be to take a proper rest and get your shoes customised by a professional, but we don’t have time for that.” Junko said, eyes closing as she folded her arms. “...I guess there’s no choice. Give me a second to see if I can steal a toolkit. I’ll replace your current shoes with egg bars.”

“Eggs? You mean I’ll be running on eggs?” Junko couldn’t help but sigh at the genuine curiosity in that statement. Equal parts endearing and exasperating, it was like dealing with a child. Then again, it wasn’t as if the Umamusume aiming to join Tracen were particularly old in the first place.

“Not, er, quite.” answered Junko, flipping over one of the Umamusume’s shoes and pointing to the metal supports. “You see this shape here? That’s called a heart bar. It's the kind of shoe usually used when your foot has a specific weakness. They redistribute weight from areas that can’t handle the pressure to areas that can. Problem is, if those areas aren’t prepared for the extra pressure, then you’ll rapidly cause more damage than you would’ve before. The ones I’m gonna replace them with are more egg shaped, hence egg bars. It’s usually used for gymnastics because they help with Umamusume who jump a lot, but their more even weight distribution is usually great for supporting weaker heels. At least while you’re recovering, it should make a difference.”

“Really? That's incredible!” it really wasn’t. Even if they didn’t dive too deeply into the subject, most running Umamusume would have a basic understanding of how different shoe shapes functioned. Saying that out loud would just be an insult though considering how genuine that praise for Junko was. “So just changing my shoes will help me run better?”

“Like I said, properly resting will help you run better. This will just help your feet hold up to the running.” Junko warned, sharp taps of her hammer against her chisel making easy work of the metal supports. By the time she had finished nailing the new ones in, it had barely been six minutes. Admittedly, having an awestruck audience of one watching was a pretty good motivator. “Alright, all sorted. Get them laced up and I'll grab you a drink. I’m guessing if you’re still doing your pre-race program, you haven’t had chance to get a post parade in, right?”

“Post... parade?” the Umamusume parroted in response. A firm ‘no’ then.

“A chance for you to walk round the track, learn more about the going and how it varies.” Junko explained as she led the way towards a nearby stall. She only needed to hold her hand up before the guy running it threw a bottle toward her, the Umamusume eagerly accepting it. “It also gives potential trainers and viewers a chance to see you in action. Of course, most of the real judgement will happen while you’re racing, but it never hurts to drum up some early interest.”

“Is that so? I’ve mostly been racing on the same track, so I guess I never needed it!” was the joyful reply.

“Then it might be best to just follow at the back of the crowd for now. Everyone does it together, so there's no harm in letting others take the lead." as if to prove Junko’s point, a crowd had already begun gathering on the turf, racers both chatting and sizing each other up in equal measure. Fortunately, with everyone’s shared goal of entering Tracen, there wasn’t too much overt hostility; nobody wanted to make an enemy of their potential classmates and they definitely didn’t want to give a bad impression to scouting trainers. “Just remember that it's not a race. Take your time and learn the lay of the land. That’ll help save your feet for the real thing as well.”

When Junko didn’t receive a response, she turned to the side, meaning she got a perfect view of the anticipation that completely consumed the Umamusume beside her. Watching as she practically began running in place, trembling with excitement, you’d think the Umamusume was already at the starting gate. No wonder it drew a giggle out of Junko.

“You really like to run, huh?” she unconsciously said, the reply coming in the form of a vigorous nod.

“I absolutely love it!” the Umamusume gleefully cheered. “At first, I thought I wouldn’t care because we were just trying to build some money for our racetrack, but then I actually started racing and it was so much fun! Everyone else was cheering really hard for me as well! How could I not like it?”

“Can’t argue with that.” Junko agreed, the corner of her eye catching the crowd as it began to gain momentum. “Oh, sorry. Looks like everyone’s getting ready to go. You’d better join them before they leave you behind.”

“Ah, you’re right! The Umamusume cried, Junko forced to shield her eyes from the dirt kicked up by the Umamusume’s sudden dash forward. Faced with such a reckless stunt, Junko surely would’ve yelled out a reminder to take it easy, had the Umamusume not rapidly dug her heels into the turf and turned back. “Thank you again for helping me out Miss Junko! Make sure you don’t miss my race, okay? I’m gonna win for sure!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Junko promised with a thumbs up, yet paused slightly when she realised her mistake. “By the way, you know my name, but I don’t know yours!”

Hearing that, the Umamusume grinned, her pose triumphant as she placed her hands on her hips. It certainly wasn’t as demanding as Narita Brian, nor  was it as inspirational as Symboli Rudolf. Despite that, however, the determination that filled the Umamusume’s following words meant Junko couldn’t help but believe in them at least a little.

“I’m Haru Urara, and I’m going to be first place! My form’s good, my condition’s good, that water was good! There’s no way I can lose like this!” she declared, as much to the world as it was to Junko. “Bye bye!”

“Haru Urara, huh?” Junko mused to herself as she returned the Umamusume’s wave, faltering slightly as the memory flashed before her eyes. “That’s right, she was one of the Umamusume Rudolf and the Director mentioned, wasn’t she?”

A renowned loser, somebody whose only real qualification for Tracen Academy was the immense fan appeal she had garnered so far. Given the way she ran before, it made sense how such a reputation could come about. With a performance like that, it was only natural that other trainers would be hesitant to take her in. Hell, even Junko wasn’t quite sure how she would’ve reacted when she first met Haru Urara after a description like that.

Having met her though, none of those initial concerns even briefly surfaced in Junko’s mind. Faced with an earnestness that couldn’t be denied, alongside a desire to run as passionate as any other that graced Tracen Academy’s halls, there wasn’t any room for those thoughts. Instead, what came forth was a wish uttered beneath Junko’s breath.

“Let’s hope that hard work of hers pays off…”

Chapter Text

[The sun shines bright on the racetrack today and you can see the dust dancing in the air. Our racers will need to be extra careful to make sure they don’t overexert themselves on the dirt today.]

[Absolutely. They won’t have the cushioning of grass to fall back on, so everyone will need to tread a fine line between power and control.]

[That doesn’t seem to be a problem for our racers though. Look at the confidence on their faces as they enter their stalls!]

[That kind of spirit is exactly what we want to see. These girls are taking the first step to becoming the next generation of champions and they know it! Let’s see how that translates onto the track.]

“A dirt track race huh? I guess she’s got the build for it.” Junko muttered to herself as she watched the Umamusume being loaded into the starting gates by their grooms. Well, she said ‘their’ grooms – an Umamusume wouldn’t be officially paired with a groom until the date for their debut race was set. It was entirely possible that the grooms working on the starting gates today might never see their Umamusume again. “That Haru Urara was a little on the smaller side.”

Now, a casual viewer might see the incredible muscles of her fellow Umamusume and consider Haru Urara’s size a negative thing. When accounting for the type of track they were racing on, however, that wasn’t necessarily the case. Dirt doesn’t provide the cushioning effect that good turf does. Rather, it offers much the opposite, sinking under the pressure of a running limb and therefore demanding more stamina to maintain the same speed. Of course, this could be countered by creating a track with a firmer going, but the heightened potential for injuries prevented such a choice from becoming popular.

With that in mind, those with smaller bodies and hooves found themselves in a rather unique position. Unlike bulkier Umamusume, whose wider feet and heavier strides made them sink further and further into the dirt, the minimal surface area of a smaller Umamusume’s feet required less stamina to move. Perhaps it wasn’t a particularly major advantage, but in a sport where even the slightest of conditions could change a race’s positions, it was certainly a noticeable trait.

That knowledge was why Junko, taking position at her observation point and checked her medical supplies, didn’t immediately dismiss Haru Urara. Sure, the records from her RaStar account didn’t exactly inspire much confidence, but that spoke of a barely trained Umamusume competing on a single local track. So long as she dedicated her all to demonstrating her potential, there was nothing to say that applying for Tracen Academy couldn’t be the start of her reputation reversal.

Admittedly, the mess that Haru Urara had made of herself before didn’t exactly spark confidence in that scenario either, but Junko was making a pointed effort to ignore it.

[Looks like they’re all in line. We’re ready to start...]

[And they’re off!]

Sixteen gates swung open in unison, the roar of dashing feet bursting outward louder than any bullet. To say that Junko knew exactly what was going on was a lie; lost in a blur of colour and raw energy, it could very well have been anyone’s game as they battled for the inner track. The only thing she could be distinguish without issue was Haru Urara, every footstep making the earth beneath her tremble regardless of her last place position.

There hadn’t been a single second of hesitation. The moment the metal before them opened, the entire field had launched forward with unparallelled precision. For there not to be even a single late start, it was hard to believe that the gates were occupied only by rookies. If this was how passionately they raced without the tempering of time and pressure, who knew just how capable they could become after some dedicated training?

However unprofessional it was, there was no way Junko couldn’t join the collective cheers around her, the thunderous roars of the audience alone enough to send a shiver down one’s spine. Powered by the sheer adrenaline fuelled by the action before her, there was no place for anything else. That wasn’t to say she was disregarding her role of observing for injuries, but who would blame her for lingering a little longer on each Umamusume as she did so?

[It’s a wonderful start from all our racers!]

[No.1, No.7 and No.2 are all battling for the lead. It’s hard to say who could come out on top.]

[Ah, No. 1 has sprung into the lead! With No.4 creeping up on her tail, can she maintain her momentum to the end?]

[Such a powerful offense might be leaving her rushed. Hopefully she has a chance to breathe out there.]

[Meanwhile, it seems like some of our racers are having a little trouble. Can No.8 keep up with the pack?]

Once again, Junko couldn’t help but notice Haru Urara’s gait, or rather, the lack of it. Despite maintaining a pretty average cruising speed – about 15 meters a second if Junko had to guess – you would never be able to tell that from how Haru Urara’s feet were moving.

As could be seen from the several racers battling before her, the typical Umamusume would run with what professionals referred to as a trot, a symmetrical gait where one arm swung forward as the opposite leg took a step. A highly efficient moment with only minimal suspension between each stride, the trot was a prized stride valued for its lower energy consumption. Essentially, it was the type of gait one needed to master if you wanted to take on the longer tracks throughout Japan.

Consequently, Haru Urara’s galloping, with its far more extended suspension and more explosive strides, bore far less control and efficiency. It was to the point that the fact she could maintain her distance from the others was practically a miracle in and of itself. Swinging her arms as madly as she could, perhaps it would’ve been a better description to say she was throwing herself forward rather than running. For a stronger runner, that would've certainly meant surpassing everyone before her. That Haru Urara didn’t was a worrying sign – one that trainers and viewers alike had noticed if the murmurs Junko could hear behind her meant anything.

Then again, it wasn’t as if there was much alternative. What was Haru Urara meant to do, choose a trot like everyone else and pull even further behind? With everyone else hesitating to draw out their full power thanks to the dangerous combo of dirt track and firm going, being able to gallop was just about Haru Urara’s only advantage. Without that, even the three lengths between Haru Urara and the next Umamusume in the pack would be a stretch to achieve.

[And as we approach the fourth corner, it seems like some of our front runners are beginning to widen the gap. Have they gotten hasty in their confidence?]

[the back-end is getting chaotic as everyone prepares to unleash their full power. Breaking that lead isn’t going to be easy.]

[With only four hundred meters to go, No.1’s strength is completely unmatched! No. 4 and No. 7 are trying to close the gap, but they don’t seem to have the speed to match!]

[There’s a huge difference between first and last place around now!]

If Haru Urara felt disheartened by the commentary blaring through the speakers, she didn’t show it. Then again, there was a full possibility that she didn’t hear it at all. With so much adrenaline pumping through her veins, it wouldn’t be strange if the only thing Haru Urara could acknowledge was where she needed to place her feet next. Maybe even the other Umamusume on the track failed to register in her mind; such was how determined Haru Urara appeared as she forced her body forward and outward.

Fortunately, the final straight meant that moving towards the outside lanes wasn’t too risky an option. Regardless of whether it offered much room for improvement, it was undoubtedly a better choice than remaining tied up with everyone battling for the inner lanes. That Haru Urara could recognise that was commendable. Too many newcomers found themselves lost in their textbook tactics, mechanically aiming for the inside lanes without any consideration as to whether it would be advantageous in the moment. It was just a shame that Haru Urara’s lacking power meant she couldn’t do much with the advantage.

[Two hundred meters to go! No.1 is holding her lead by 4 lengths!]

[And that’s a win for No. 1! What incredible strength for a newcomer!]

[In second place comes No. 7, followed closely by No. 4!]

[If this is the kind of race we’re seeing now, I can’t wait to see what the future holds for these Umamusume!]

The applause threatened to deafen Junko, not that it stopped her from joining in. With the only symptoms showing being mainly exhaustion, it wasn’t as if her talents were particularly needed straight away. Once everyone finished and the Umamusume began their recovery period, that was when she’d have to go in and start investigating properly. For now, there was nothing wrong with revelling in the atmosphere of the race.

Well, there was that and the fact that there was still a racer tearing their way towards the finish line. Even if all of her peers had crossed the line and were basking in the audience’s reactions, Haru Urara didn’t relent for a single second, rushing forth with all her might as her eyes remained firmly fixed to the goal. Just like before, neither ‘graceful’ nor ‘practiced’ could be used to describe her – the movements were far more primal than they could ever imply – yet the sheer willpower held in each stride was nothing to scoff at regardless. Junko could only hope that even if the technique and form were dismissed, that strength of personality would never be.

[And with that… No. 8 has finally passed the finish line! Let’s all give a round of applause for her efforts!]

Dead last, without any room for confusion. One might imagine that receiving such a position would be cause for disappointment, sadness, maybe anger. Not for Haru Urara. Finally allowing herself to move at a more controlled pace, the way she threw her arms up and beamed at the audience would have you believing she took first place instead. Seeing her parade around so victoriously, Junko couldn’t help her sigh of relief; that wasn’t the kind of posture you’d have if you were sick or injured.

Still, Junko couldn’t be too happy. Not when the result applause was barely more than a spattering. Admittedly, it made sense – why would anyone be enthusiastic about the unknown pre-student that came in last? – but that knowledge did little to reduce the sting in Junko’s heart. Haru Urara had given nothing but her utmost for the entirety of that race. The least that she deserved was a proper applause that acknowledged that.

That reasoning was why Junko didn’t notice the strange looks that others gave her when she began fiercely clapping, the only one doing so in a decently large vicinity. One or two others might’ve been moved to join her, but the vast majority just didn’t see a need for it. Perhaps that was why Haru immediately turned to Junko’s direction, her mild confusion quickly turning to joy as she waved even more vigorously towards Junko. Then Junko began moving in Haru Urara’s direction and that joy gave way to embarrassment.

“Miss Junko! I didn’t think you’d actually come to see me run!” Haru Urara cried out, far too energetic for someone who had just run a distance in the quadruple digits. Only her heavy breathing and bright red flush seemed to betray her exhaustion. “It’s kind of embarrassing, after I boasted about how I was going to win…”

“Hey, don’t make it sound like you didn’t run your hardest. You were shining out there.” Junko was quick to reassure, a bottle of water in hand. “Besides, I told you I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I wouldn’t want to be a liar now, would I?”

“…Right!” somehow, Haru Urara managed to smile even harder, eagerly accepting the bottle from Junko. “I even ran the whole race this time! All that training I did really paid off!”

“Sounds like it.” Junko muttered, trying her best not to let her shock show. She knew Haru Urara was a little on the weaker side, but to the point where finishing the race wasn’t a guarantee? The thought hadn’t even passed her mind. “And from the way you’re moving around, it looks like you didn’t hurt yourself any more doing so. Considering how firm the dirt was, that’s a pretty impressive feat.”

“Really? Yay!” having expected more relief than excitement, Junko wasn’t quite sure how to respond to Haru Urara’s reply. “Running really is the best! I can’t wait for my next race! Are you going to come and watch that one too?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something here?” Junko interceded, hands on her hips. “I’m not just here to watch. I’m working as part of the staff here, I can’t just ditch my station. Plus, you and the rest of the girls have plenty to do before you leave as well. A cool down routine, a medical check, definitely a shower-”

“Hey!” luckily, Haru Urara didn’t take the joke too seriously, barely able to maintain her pout for half a minute before she was giggling along with Junko. “I guess I got a little too excited, huh? I wonder what the medical room looks like. I bet its super-duper fancy! Are you going to be the one doing my medical check as well?”

“Afraid not. There’re people with way more qualifications than me who’ll be doing that.” Junko said, before holding a finger to her chin in thought. “If I have some time though, I might be able to catch you straight afterwards though. We can grab a bite to eat together. Just wait until you get a taste of the cafeteria’s carrot okayu  - it’s to die for.”

“Woah, I’m already drooling just thinking about it…!”

In truth, okayu wasn’t as random a choice as it sounded. While yes, a bowl full of rice porridge was as soothing to an Umamusume as it was to any sick person in East Asia, it was especially desirable for somebody who had just spent an entire race’s worth of sweat and energy. Having not eaten anything for a decent time to preserve their weight before their races, what could better than a bowl full of carbs inflated with water to help them quickly hydrate? Add in the fact that the water content also helped to eliminate the toxins formed by harsh aerobic effort, plus how it simultaneously assisted with digestion, and it’s no wonder why the cafeteria didn’t even bother offering any other meals to the races for the day.

The fact that it was also easy to make in bulk went unspoken.

“In that case, I’d better make sure to shower quick! I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting!” Haru Urara declared, rushing off towards the facilities so quickly, you’d think she was about to start her second race. Then again, considering how enthusiastic she had been despite being less than a meter away from the previous race’s finish line, that wasn’t entirely an impossibility. Junko didn’t have time to raise a hand to wave, instead choosing a light chuckle.

“Real bundle of energy, that one.” She quietly mused to herself.

The way Haru Urara smiled, it was as if her lips had never tasted the bitterness of defeat. For one who so often faced it, that was an insane thought. Lesser Umamusume would have been considered gracious if they didn’t leave in tears, to say nothing of being excited for their next race. That kind of unbreakable character was usually reserved for those with far greater portfolios than Haru Urara’s.

“Then again, given what I’ve heard about her, she kind of needs to be one.”

After all, Kochi Racetrack wasn’t exactly known for the skill of its racers. To be frank, the fact that it was still operating was a surprise. Were it not for the sizeable number underneath Haru Urara’s RaStar Account, they probably wouldn’t have the funds to keep the door open. Having to race in those conditions was bound to wear somebody down, yet here Haru Urara was, shooting for the stars as if none of it affected her. Coming out of that environment, anything less than an indomitable will would have never made it beyond their first few races. Now Junko could kind of understand why Director Akikawa had seemed so adamant about Haru Urara’s enrolment.

“Oi, Junko!” a familiar male voice calling out to her broke Junko out of her thoughts, Junko turning to find Ryusei’s face unnerving close. That she didn’t instinctively punch him was down to luck. “You had your break yet? Lunch is coming up soon. I managed to sneak a few of us out so we could all eat together.”

“Ah, I would but I already made plans with someone.” Said Junko, putting her hands together in apology. “You might’ve seen her, she was part of the last race. Her name’s Haru Urara.”

“Number 8, right? She put in some real effort. Shame she came in last.” Replied Ryusei. “Didn’t think you knew any of the Umamusume though. These races are for the newcomers to Tracen, right?”

“Yup. Only met her before the race began.” Junko confirmed, a smirk appearing on Ryusei.

“She must be something special then, if she managed to capture your heart so quickly.” He immediately quipped, a retort on Junko’s lips before she suddenly stopped. While Junko could try and explain how charismatic Haru Urara was or mention how friendly she herself could be, Junko soon realised that she needn’t waste the words. Instead, Ryusei had to watch as she pulled out her phone, a few quick taps adding another follower to Haru Urara’s RaStar Account before Junko followed up with a single sentence.

“Trust me, you’ll be in the exact same boat soon enough.”  

Chapter Text

Junko never really recognised just how brutal Umamusume could be to their own bodies. Sure, she remembered the student who had been wheelchair-bound while working on campus, but that was merely the aftereffect. Having a firsthand view of what could cause such a situation? Now that had been harrowing.

The first girl who injured themself – a sprightly young thing quite appropriately named Without Regrets – still burned brightly in Junko’s mind. How she had viewed second place as a failure, desperately pushing forth despite how firm the going was. Junko had started moving the second she saw that surge of power, barely even registering the actual moment when the Umamusume’s leg bent at a horrifically unnatural angle.

The minutes that followed had been a blur as Junko’s mind went into auto drive. Providing cushioning for the broken leg, making sure nobody touched or moved the limb, securing the leg with broad fold bandages – all while trying to convince Without Regrets that no, she couldn’t give the race another go. There she was, wracked by pain, and all that was on Without Regrets’ mind was how she couldn’t let her injury stop herself from racing.

Without Regrets had been far from the only person in the same situation as well. While none came to the same level of severity, that goal-oriented mindset hadn’t wavered in in a single one of them. Mechanically handling their injuries and reassuring them while veterinarians – doctors trained to handle Umamusume – arrived on the scene, it was enough to completely shake the all-too-quick-to-compromise Junko.

It was no wonder Junko’s steps grew heavier the moment she stepped out of the private room in the shabu-shabu restaurant, the boisterous noise of the ‘Selection Showcase Survival’ party fading away as she walked outside. Honestly, Junko wasn’t quite sure why they were so excited; there were still a few more days to go yet. The only reason why they were having this party was that everyone was too busy to have a shared lunch hour. Then again, considering how it lightened Junko’s mood after seeing such injuries, even if it didn’t remove it, maybe having an early party wasn’t too bad after all.

“Ah~. I could use a smoke about now.” Junko muttered to silence, for no people were walking by to act as her audience. Admittedly, that was probably for the best, given how she didn’t actually smoke. “Heh, always wanted to use that line. I wonder what that other Umamusume the Director mentioned is up to...”

Rice Shower. An Umamusume with excellent capabilities, were it not for the fact that unfortunate incidents happened to befall those who had interviewed as her trainers. Had she been at the Selection Showcase today? Had she been running with all of her might like the others, desperately pushing forward to turn her image around?

The answer would come in the form of a quiet sniffle, Junko whipping her around to see nothing. Even so, the sniffles persisted, Junko steadily narrowing down her options until she was tiptoeing towards a nearby bush, suspicion painted across her face. Whether that was mainly because of the crying noises coming from it or the almost comedically large pair of ears poking up from behind it, Junko couldn’t say. All that mattered was that Junko’s assumption was correct – it was the sound of a young girl crying.

When the Umamusume looked up at Junko with trembling eyes, wet and reddened, Junko had been sure she was going to bolt. Fortunately for her, the Umamusume instead turned her eyes down, pushing her head between her knees as her ears lowered against her scalp. Curled up into a ball like that, she couldn’t possibly have seemed more vulnerable. That was why Junko didn’t waste a second before sighing, the Umamusume looking up in confusion to find Junko sitting down in the dirt beside her. 

“Um... I’m sorry but... could you not get any closer?” the words were little more than a whisper, the Umamusume apparently more than aware of just how rude the words sounded. Even so, despite her vulnerable tone, she made no moves to correct or reword herself. What an interesting contradiction.

“Do I really smell that bad?” Junko’s out-of-pocket reply worked wonders, the Umamusume turning up with a flustered expression, ready to deny her. Too bad Junko was already exaggeratedly smelling her clothes. “Antiseptic and Uma-friendly Shower gel. Shouldn't be too strong, even for a nose as sensitive as yours.”

“N-N-no! It’s not that!” the Umamusume was quick to say, shaking her head rapidly. It’s because I-I... Because I only bring misfortune to the people around me. I don’t want to burden you like that.”

Ah. Now everything clicked. So, this was the mysterious Rice Shower. Ask and ye shall receive, Junko supposed.

“Bringing misfortune to the people around you, huh?” Junko muttered, throwing her head up to look at the clouded night sky. “Maybe you do.”

The muted reply caused the Umamusume to blink, turning her head down so that Junko couldn’t see the drops falling from her eyes. In doing so, she didn’t realise that Junko had yet to finish her sentence.

“Maybe you’re somebody who enjoys making people suffer or making them miserable. Maybe you’re some kind of villain who plots to make life worse for others. I don’t know.” continued Junko with a shrug, only to turn her eyes down to meet the Umamusume’s. “Until I do, however... you’re a random crying girl I met on the street. The rest we can worry about another time. So, don’t worry about me. Instead, perhaps you could tell me what you’re doing here crying behind a bush?”

The answer didn’t come immediately, rather, Junko’s approach seemed to have left the Umamusume in even more of a fluster, any words she could have said reduced to little more than random stutters until they died upon her lips. It wasn’t until minutes later that the Umamusume could muster the strength to speak properly.

I wanted to be useful, to be strong... I was going to enter a race but, in the end... I’m nothing more than a...!” the Umamusume began, yet the hand that started gently stroking her hair made her pause.

“Let me guess, you were aiming for Tracen Academy’s Selection Showcase right? It’s not as if there are many other races going on around this area.” Junko concluded, earning herself a drawn-out nod. “Hard to blame you then. There’s some real competitive folk taking part in those races. Most people would chicken out if they had to race against that kind of competition. Doesn't make you anything other than a cautious type – not a bad thing to be at all.”

That seemed to make things a little better for the Umamusume. If nothing else, the trembles that Junko could feel through her hand were receding a bit.

“As for the races themselves... well, they haven’t finished yet, have they? There's still plenty of time left.” Junko said, her smile growing. “Sure, missing your first race isn’t exactly the best situation - I know a lot of folk are gonna be a little put off with that kind of first impression – but that’s why people have multiple races. Can’t judge a book by its cover, you know? As long as you give it everything you’ve got in the other races, they’ll barely even remember their first thoughts about you.”

“You... you really want to see me run?” The Umamusume asked, her tight grip around other knees loosening slightly. Junko couldn’t help herself from lingering on the sight, the muscles contained within those legs more than mighty. So long as they were put to good use, there was a bright future ahead of her indeed.

As long as you’re willing to, yeah.” Junko said. “See, I made a friend recently. When I was getting into a funk myself, he told me something a little like this: If both options are going to lead to regret, you might as well act and justify the regret. Isn’t it unfair to do nothing and still end up regretting? He probably put it into better words, but the sentiment still stands. Besides, with legs like those, I’m sure you’ll do way better than something you’re gonna regret.”

 
“Ah... Thank you! I’m um, very happy!” The Umamusume began, yet the tremble in her voice couldn’t be ignored. Admittedly, it wasn’t as strong as when they first began, but until it was eliminated entirely, Junko couldn’t rest easy.  But... I’m... I’m just a good for nothing, you know? I only cause trouble for others and couldn’t even enter a race I signed up for. Knowing all that, you still think I should race?”

“Let’s not talk about that first part. The question you should be asking is whether you can win. That’s the question that needs answering after all. With the kind of girls who have taken to the racetrack today, whether you can win is down to luck as much as it’s down to skill.” The hand stroking the Umamusume’s head paused before finding a new location to settle down, the Umamusume instinctively settling into Junko’s grip around her shoulders. “Whether you should race, though? That’s not a question at all. Given what you told me, the answer should already be obvious, right?”

The Umamusume had chained her ambitions away, moments of misfortune becoming barriers she couldn’t see herself surpassing on the road to the top. What she failed to realise, however, was that those so-called ‘barriers’ weren’t barriers at all. They were hurdles to overcome. Sure, she might not have been able to overcome all of the early ones, but hurdles were designed to fall forward when struck – so long as the desire to keep running forward remained, they had no real power to stop her.

Whether that fully registered in the Umamusume’s mind was down to fate. She was too busy giving Junko a look of awe for Junko to gleam a proper answer. Even so, Junko was hardly disappointed with that; most expressions were better than the teary despair previously adorning the Umamusume’s face. If a little nuance was lost along the way, so be it.

“Wow, just like a real big sister...” The Umamusume muttered, quickly shaking the thought from her head as she rose to her feet. It wasn’t the strongest of stances, but there was potential there – even a blind man could see it. “Never mind, forget that! But if you’re sure... I’ll give it everything I have! Will you… will you come and watch me?”

“Should the stars align. I’m a pretty busy woman, you know, and work’s putting on this big event. We’re talking national level.” Junko began, her teasing tone fading away as she watched the Umamusume’s ears begin lowering again. Her response to that was to pull out her cap, placing it on her head and grinning as the Tracen Academy logo gleamed under the streetlights. “But you never know where I might pop up, right? Now come on Miss Superstar – you’ve got some races to prepare for and that’s not gonna happen by sitting on the cold hard street at night.”

“Right, right… The Umamusume instinctively agreed until the nickname registered, a blush quickly overtaking her cheeks. “But! But my name is Ri-Rice Shower… not Miss Superstar.”

“That so? Then I’ll just have to keep an eye out for the commentators shouting out Rice Shower instead.” Junko said, dusting off the Umamusume’s clothes. “Now keep safe, you hear? And when you turn up to the races tomorrow, tell them that Junko Fujita sent you! Actually, scrap that. The folks might start telling you embarrassing stories just to make fun of me…”

That final anecdote managed to turn uncertainty into giggles, Rice Shower walking off into the distance with an almost unrecognisable stride. Junko was so focused on how freely those legs walked, she almost missed the shy wave Rice Shower gave her while leaving.

“Thank you B-Big Sister Junko!” she called out. “I’ll try not to let you down!”

“You never could!” was Junko’s reply, watching the figure disappear more and more into the darkness until all that remained was herself. With a glance to her watch revealing the time though, even that wasn’t for very long. “Guess I need to thank Keita when I next see him. Didn’t expect to steal his motivational quotes so soon. Now, please tell me those idiots haven’t started another karaoke competition again…”

When Junko opened the restaurant doors to the sound of a piercing rendition of Umapyoi Legend, she knew her last wish at least wasn’t to be answered.

[There’s only one hundred meters left to go! No.7 is holding on to her lead by a thread!]

[No.9 and No.3 are trying to break even, but there’s just not enough turf left! Will No.7 slip up at the last moment?]

[And No.7 crosses the finish line with her lead intact! No.7 has fought until the very end, and her passion pays off!]

Junko applauded just as loudly as anyone else when she saw Rice Shower shoot over the finish line, yet the moment wasn't as thrilling as she had expected. The victory left Junko ecstatic, certainly, but despite the close competition, the tension that usually came never appeared. Now, one might automatically assume that was a bad thing, yet given the cause, Junko couldn’t help the slight satisfaction she felt at the thought. No tension meant that Junko was completely confident in Rice Shower’s victory and considering how Rice Shower was now being bathed in excited cheers, there was clearly good reason.

“Heard she skipped out on her first race. Wonder what happened.”

“There's been some pretty sketchy rumours about her. I wouldn't be surprised if something serious came up.”

“Shame. Running races like these, she could’ve been a strong competitor there as well. Can’t do much with a liability though.”

If only Junko could get rid of those stupid trainer wannabes whispering around her. Gods, you’d think that Rice Shower had sabotaged the competition with the way they spoke. For goodness sakes, the only thing that happened was that she missed a single race. She didn’t even come last! Superstition and rumours, however, were a power that couldn’t be contended. So long as they remained, that scepticism towards Rice Shower’s capabilities would remain engrained.

Of course, there was an easy solution: just have Rice Shower participate in enough races that nobody cares about the rumours. Turn potential misfortune into nothing more than conspiracy theories. So long as Rice Shower had access to a relatively decent trainer, then the whole affair would be water under the bridge in no time at all.

The only issue with that was whether there was anyone brave enough to take the initial leap.

“Big S- Um, Miss Junko! Did you watch me?” Rice Shower asked quietly as she approached, her demeanour far too demure for Junko’s liking. A winner should at least have the confidence to stand casually, surely?

“To the very end. I told you that you’d be fine.” was Junko’s reply, snapping her fingers into a thumbs-up. “You work well in the pace-chaser position. You kept those people in front on their toes for the entire race.”

Rice Shower answered with a nervous giggle, scratching at her cheek as she blushed. Were it not for the fact that she had just come off the racetrack, nobody would believe that she was the same person as the determined athlete striking fear into anybody who dared overtake her. Given her meek attitude, one could only wonder where those devastating stares piercing into the competition’s backs came from, to say nothing of how they must’ve felt when Rice Shower was practically breathing down their backs. One poor little waif even seemed on the verge of breaking down as she was steadily escorted towards the infirmary.

Rude as it was, Junko couldn’t help but compare Haru Urara and Rice Shower’s running style. Where one favoured all out sprinting, basking in the joys of running itself, the other was careful to conserve their stamina, tempting others to expend their own. If Haru Urara barely acknowledged the fact she was competing in a high-level sport, Rice Shower seemed all too aware of it.

Could one approach be considered better than the other? Of course not. If one were to take things too casually, not only could it be seen as an insult to your fellow competitors, but it also meant it was easy to fall into sloppy footwork and wasteful movements. Conversely, being too tense throughout would hinder your ability to make key decisions, especially if the other racers refused to play your mind games. Somebody who could weave between the two mindsets would be an absolute monster on the racetrack and while Haru Urara and Rice Shower weren’t quite there, the opportunity for them to grow that way was just around the corner.

“Ah, that’s the one who ended up getting two trainers injured, right?”

“Seems like it. You should probably leave that one for now.”

Junko was quick to stand between Rice Shower and the gossiping pair of men observing them, but that could do little to stop their voices from reaching her. Watching Rice Shower’s ears start drooping again, Junko found herself instinctively dragging Rice Shower away, silently cursing herself as she did so. In hindsight, she should’ve been reprimanding those men, not cowering away like they had anything to hide.

“It-It’s alright Miss Junko...” Rice Shower muttered, barely an ounce of power behind those words. “People did end up getting h-hurt because of me.”

“Ah-ah-ah! I don’t want to hear that coming from you, okay?” Junko corrected, a finger on Rice Shower’s lips preventing any more self-dismissals. “They met you and they ended up getting hurt. Nothing says those two events have to be related.”

“But it’s true. I bring misfortune to anybody I meet...” Rice Shower said, far too much certainty in those words for Junko’s liking. Why couldn’t she have been this confident about winning the race? “It’s really not that surprising that none of the trainers would want me.”

“Rice Shower, listen to me. There are plenty of trainers who want you to be their Umamusume.” Junko declared, her hands falling onto Rice Shower’s shoulders.

What Rice Shower didn’t realise was how memories were flashing before Junko’s mind, memories of how poorly the crowd had reacted to Haru Urara’s race as well. The blatant dismissal, the ignorance of any positives the Umamusume had demonstrated – all of it served to bring a new strength to Junko’s posture as she leaned back, making sure that Rice Shower could clearly see the Tracen Academy logo printed upon her lapel.

“And if there aren’t... then maybe there’s someone who isn’t a trainer.”