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It had been three years since she became T.M. Opera O's trainer.
So when the chairwoman summoned her at a time like this, her mind immediately began to race. Had there been some problem with renewing the contract? Had Opera O done something? Was that hot spring trip the other day somehow an issue? Or maybe...?
Thinking all sorts of things like that as she headed over, she heard:
"A long-term business trip?"
"Indeed!"
What the chairwoman announced—standing right there before her eyes—was a proposal the trainer never could have expected: a business trip. When she reflexively asked again, the chairwoman gave her a broad nod.
"Splendid! The achievements you have accomplished over these past three years are nothing short of remarkable!"
"Th-thank you very much."
"And just recently, a school with whom we are on friendly terms requested that we dispatch a temporary trainer there for exchange purposes—and they asked for you by name."
"So I'm the one they requested?"
"Precisely!"
Winning the academy's team race, the Aoharu Cup.
The Autumn Senior Triple Crown, won twice in a row by her trainee, Opera O.
A URA victory.
When you laid it all out like that, even the trainer had to admit the results were almost too good for a newcomer like her.
But all of it had only been possible thanks to the help she received, the people she met, the bonds she formed, and above all, Opera O's strength. She couldn't exactly stand tall and call it all her own accomplishment. At the same time, if she downplayed it too much, that would be unfair and disrespectful to everyone involved.
...What would Opera O say in a moment like this?
"In that case, wouldn't Kashimoto—no, Trainer Kashimoto—be a better choice?"
"Nay! This is a direct request from the other side, and I too believe you have achieved more than enough to merit it! The term will be one month! Lodging, meals, and all other necessities will be provided!"
One month. Longer than she had imagined.
Though then again, if she was really going there to provide proper instruction as a trainer, a short trip of only a few days would obviously be too brief.
Still, if she was going to be away from Tracen Academy, the first thing that came to mind was Opera O. Looking back, there had never once been a time in these past three years when they had been apart for that long. She couldn't help feeling uneasy about what would happen.
"It's a great honor, but..."
"Naturally, a trainer's foremost duty is to prioritize her trainee. You are free to decline. However, it is equally true that this would be a tremendous opportunity for your growth as a trainer! Discuss it, think it over carefully, and make your decision! That is all!"
"Y-Yes, ma'am."
As if to say there was no need to add another word, the chairwoman finished relaying all the necessary details, and the trainer returned to her office.
An opportunity like this would not come often. The exchanges and behavior of academy students were treasure troves of information she could apply to training. If that was true even at Tracen, then spending time at another school—among students she had never met before—would obviously become a huge source of growth.
As someone still immature, someone who still had so much room to improve, she ought to accept gladly.
And even if she worried about Opera O, the girl wasn't a child. With that overwhelming mental strength she had shown long before the trainer ever started working with her—the strength that let her live the way she did—she would surely be fine on her own.
She wasn't scheduled to run any major races for a while because of adjustments, and over these last three years her foundation had already been built. As for training, if the trainer prepared her menus in advance, then asked Kashimoto Trainer and a few other trainers they were close to handle fine-tuning and direct guidance, there shouldn't be any problem.
"...Opera O."
Her gaze fell, almost by chance, to the ring sitting on her left ring finger—the one Opera O had given her at Christmas—and she murmured the name of her beloved horse girl as she looked at it.
At first she had considered keeping it tucked away in her desk, or maybe wearing it on a chain as a necklace. But after they won the URA, Opera O had slipped it onto her ring finger as though that were the most natural thing in the world. Somehow, that made her so embarrassed and so happy that she ended up leaving it there in that dangerously meaningful place.
Rationally, she understood that things would be fine.
But it was also true that being apart from Opera O made her hesitate—not only as a trainer, but as herself.
...Yes. More than anything, she was uneasy. Worried.
Because of course, it wasn't as though she could take Opera O with her.
"What should I do...?"
That day, the trainer couldn't come to a conclusion.
...
............
The next day.
She hadn't slept well, and even after lying awake all night, she still had no answer. So there she was in the trainer's office, sitting alone at her desk with her head in her hands, when the door suddenly opened.
"Good morning, Trainer-kun!"
"Ah—yeah. Morning, Opera O."
She returned the greeting to Opera O, who had entered with her usual bright voice. Normally Opera O would have continued with some grand speech after that—but instead, she stopped dead.
"What is wrong?! You look so down!!"
Opera O rushed over wearing a face comically full of worry, and the trainer stared at her in surprise.
"Huh?"
"Ahh, I see! It must be because you had no chance to gaze upon my face yesterday! Come, you needn't hold back—look at me and restore your spirits! This beauty is the sun itself. It has value as the very vitality of all living things!"
Her words were over the top as always, but apparently she had seen through the trainer's condition. Her energy and style were her usual self, yet the feeling in her eyes—fixed straight on the trainer—was unmistakably genuine concern.
That made the trainer happy, and at the same time reminded her that the chairwoman had been right. They really did need to talk this out.
"Hey, Opera O."
"What is it?"
"Um..."
For a brief moment before she said it aloud, the trainer found herself wondering how Opera O would react.
You're leaving my side!? I know your charms better than anyone, but you shine brightest only when you stand beside me—beside the king herself!
It felt like Opera O might say something like that and try to stop her. But it also felt like she wouldn't.
As expected of the fin-de-siècle trainer of the fin-de-siècle overlord T.M. Opera O! I am proud of you. Now then—go forth to that new land and gain all the strength you need to ascend the throne in full! A temporary parting that lets us both grow stronger—that too has its value!
It felt like she might send her off in that sort of mood too. Yet somehow, the trainer still didn't think it would happen quite like that.
"Actually—"
Even if she agonized over it, what she had to say would not change. More than that, trying to predict Opera O's reaction was hopeless. So the trainer decided to simply tell her exactly what the chairwoman had said.
............
"I see."
Once the trainer finished explaining everything, Opera O gave a serious nod. Her features were so beautiful that even her blank face carried a strange force.
"I understand the situation, Trainer-kun. And I understand what it is that worries you."
"Y-You really do?"
"Of course. You are troubled by whether or not you will be able to manage in that distant, unexplored new land, are you not?"
"Ah—no, not really. I mean, it's not about me..."
For the record, the place she had been sent to was another prefecture away by bullet train or plane, yes—but it was just an ordinary urban area. Hardly some unexplored frontier.
Well, maybe that wasn't the point. In any case, it seemed the truly important part had not come across—but at least she had managed to explain the situation itself, so perhaps that was good enough. While the trainer was thinking that, Opera O had already closed the distance between them. Then, very gently, she took the trainer's left hand in both of hers.
"There is nothing for you to fear. More than that, there is no need for you to worry at all."
"...Opera O?"
"Because it is obvious that you will do splendidly. Why? Because you are the trainer of none other than me, one permitted to stand at my side, and above all—"
Her voice, unlike her usual ringing declarations, was gentle and subdued. It fell warmly against the trainer's ear as Opera O softly stroked the ring on her finger.
"As this radiant Ring of the Nibelung signifies, you are my most precious companion, more than anyone else. Once one remembers that truth, there remains nothing that could threaten you. Why, even the sea itself would part to show you the path, baring the ocean floor for your sake."
There was more than confidence in the smile on Opera O's face. It held a deep tenderness too, making her more beautiful than ever. A fan might have fainted on the spot if they saw that expression. Even the trainer, already accustomed to her, found herself nearly drawn in.
She still didn't really understand what Opera O meant by companion in that sense. She had never managed to ask. But even so—the fact that, instead of thinking about herself, Opera O had first worried for her having to leave—she really was...
"You're beautiful, Opera O."
"!?"
The words spilled out before the trainer even realized it.
The instant she heard them, the composed atmosphere around Opera O vanished. Her face went bright red, her ears and tail clearly revealing her fluster. Before, even when the trainer praised her directly, she hadn't blushed quite this badly. So really... had this gotten worse?
"T-Trainer-kun... that sort of—well—such overly direct words... we agreed back then not to, didn't we? At the very least, give them some embellishment, some dramatic flair..."
"But that's honestly how I felt."
Normally, if someone praised Opera O's beauty, she'd say something like:
Though it is both providence and inevitability to praise my beauty, one chosen by beauty itself must respond to such admiration with proper dignity! Thank you, Trainer-kun! And do go on—burn my beauty thoroughly into your eyes!
And then she'd strike some grand pose with a peal of laughter.
But.
"Ah..."
The real Opera O, unlike the one in the trainer's imagination, simply opened her mouth as if to say something, failed, looked at the trainer with slightly watery eyes, and in the end lowered her head in silence, her ears drooping right along with it.
It was age-appropriate, somehow. Girlish.
The princely, glamorous Opera O who captivated everyone was cool—but this version of her, blushing and looking like she didn't know what to do, was adorable.
Back then, Opera O only showed flashes of that sort of real self in rare moments when someone else's unexpected reaction caught her off guard. But after the hot spring trip—after the trainer touched something like her true self—she had started showing these obvious little expressions of embarrassment from time to time.
And unlike at the hot spring, now she was still holding onto the trainer's hand instead of letting go, which only made her seem even more endearing.
...No, this was bad. The trainer was starting to get embarrassed too. If this kept going, it would not end well for either of them. Besides, she had no hobby of making her trainee blush. So she should stop here.
To brush away the mood from a moment ago, the trainer pulled her hand free and, with slightly exaggerated seriousness and her eyes fixed firmly on Opera O's to match the girl's usual theatrical style, declared:
"Then I'll go—and I'll make sure to live up to your trust and expectations, Opera O!"
"Y-Yes! Leave things here to me!"
Opera O puffed out her chest and immediately recovered her usual tone.
The trainer decided not to point out that there was still color lingering in her face. Just for this moment, beautiful did not suit Opera O nearly as well as adorable.
And after that exchange with her beloved horse girl, the trainer finally made up her mind to accept the trip. With little time left, she immediately set about preparing.
Drafting training menus. Meeting with Kashimoto Trainer. Asking former teammates, though their old team had dissolved, for their cooperation.
And on top of that, she went around asking those close to Opera O—Meisho Doto, Admire Vega, Fuji Kiseki, Biwa Hayahide, and the others—to keep an eye on her.
After two frantic days of wrapping up all the necessary handover work, the trainer departed for that distant place.
...Now that she thought about it, maybe her way of thinking had started to become more theatrical too. She wondered whose influence that could be.
"Welcome! We're terribly sorry to impose like this."
"Not at all. I'm honored that you thought so highly of me."
"Our girls were very excited too—they heard they'd be getting guidance from a talented trainer. Since they haven't been assigned exclusive trainers or teams yet, it seems they were really looking forward to it."
"I'll do my best to live up to everyone's expectations."
She was sure some of it was no more than politeness, but at the school where she would be staying for a while, the trainer received an extremely warm welcome like that and managed to settle into her new surroundings smoothly.
Careful not to let it show, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief, then looked up at the sky in the direction where Tracen Academy lay and murmured under her breath:
I'll work hard too, so you do the same, Opera O.
Putting all her feelings into those words.
...What was she even doing? Was this one of those things where a trainer and her trainee started to resemble each other over time?
...
............
Day one.
"A stage left solely to me after Trainer-kun's temporary departure! And yet, that too is not without merit. I shall present an artistry, a performance, a miracle to outshine ten thousand actors and entrance every audience member! Such is the way of the fin-de-siècle overlord!"
Day two.
"Fuji-senpai, would you race alongside me today?"
Day three.
"Ah, Doto! In this moment, not as rivals, but as teammates honing ourselves and elevating one another, let us walk this path together!"
Day four.
"Hayahide-san, I do not understand this question in the slightest! So this time, might I ask you to explain it in Opera style?"
Day five.
"Ah yes, Trainer-kun! Next time—...no, of course. She isn't here. How difficult habits are to master, even for me."
Day six.
"Hm? ...My condition is perfectly fine! One must occasionally dim one's brilliance, lest the sun itself grow jealous. Even I must show a certain degree of respect to that ancient celestial luminary in the heavens!"
Day seven.
"..................Trainer-kun."
Day eight.
".................."
...
............
"Thank you for your hard work!"
"Trainer! Thank you so much!"
"Please work with us again next time!"
After the meeting following holiday practice ended, the girls the trainer was temporarily instructing each bowed and called out their thanks. Their direct, earnest eyes comforted her, and she smiled back.
"You all did great too. Make sure you rest well tomorrow, and next practice let's use today's reflections to do even better, okay?"
A few of them said they wanted to train tomorrow too, but she reminded them that rest was part of training. After giving each of them a quick review of what they had done well and what still needed improvement, they finally disbanded.
At Tracen Academy, she'd still have had all sorts of work left to do after this, so there would have been no going home yet. But here, she had been explicitly told not to involve herself in anything beyond this. So all that remained was to head back.
To be honest, the trainer was starting to feel at loose ends.
At first, she had been grateful for that consideration. In such an unfamiliar environment, guiding girls she'd never worked with before was exhausting enough on its own. But now that a week had passed and she had started to get the hang of things, she found herself wanting to work normally again.
Still, she was essentially a guest here. Sticking her nose too far into their affairs could easily cost the other side face. She decided she should stop being selfish, accept their kindness, and go home obediently.
At the very least, maybe next week she could ask if there was something more she could help with.
".........Hah..."
She suddenly felt an ache of loneliness for Tazuna-san, the chairwoman, Kashimoto Trainer, the people she was close to back home—and above all, Opera O.
But this environment, where every day brought fresh experiences and new knowledge, was fulfilling too.
Unable to process the mixture of those two feelings, the trainer changed her course away from home and toward some place she could eat and drink instead. Maybe she'd find an izakaya somewhere. She headed to an area she had seen before, one where restaurants seemed to cluster together.
"Alright, let's search and—"
Just as she was about to pull out her phone and look something up, her hand stopped.
Because someone who absolutely should not have been here was standing there.
When she looked back up, she saw, a little way ahead, a familiar silhouette: a girl standing proudly with one hand on her hip, a large piece of luggage by her side. Even from a distance, it struck the trainer with such a strong sense of déjà vu that she froze.
She still couldn't quite make her out clearly yet, but the figure had horse ears and a tail—and more than that, the trainer knew with absolute certainty that no matter how far away she was, she would never mistake her.
As the trainer drew closer to the mysterious Uma Musume, the girl turned at the sound of footsteps. For some reason she was in disguise, her face hidden behind a mask and sunglasses, but she still looked the trainer's way.
Seen from the front, there was no doubt.
The trainer let out a sigh inwardly and opened her mouth.
"Ope—"
"Trainer-kun!!"
Before the trainer could even finish her name, Opera O stripped off her disguise at a speed that would have put a tokusatsu hero to shame, then closed the gap between them in an instant, smiling brightly.
Looking at her again, the trainer saw that Opera O's expression wasn't the dignified kind of smile she usually wore. It was cute. Her cheeks were slightly pink, and there was something so unguarded about the way she looked at the trainer that, for reasons she couldn't quite explain, made her happy.
"Though I have crossed countless fates and overcome innumerable trials, even I must offer my gratitude to the bond between us—and to that guiding force, one might say! For thanks to it, we have been reunited like this!"
As Opera O placed a hand on her chest and looked up to the heavens in full dramatic splendor, the trainer checked her phone. No message. No call. Nothing.
There were all kinds of things she wanted to ask. Why are you here? Did something happen? But the thing that worried her most at the moment was this.
"Why were you in disguise?"
"To focus on that point first—truly, you are the trainer of none other than me! Naturally, such a matter would catch your attention. To hide a beauty such as mine is itself an affront to the world. I agonized over it for two whole days! But tell me—what do you think would happen if I walked through town with my face uncovered?"
Opera O's eyes sparkled as she asked for an answer. With a wry smile, the trainer gave the response she was clearly waiting for.
"You'd get surrounded by fans and wind up holding impromptu autograph sessions and photo shoots."
"Exactly! To answer the devotion of my admirers is also the duty of the fin-de-siècle overlord, the one who embodies beauty in its highest form! Yet if I were to respond everywhere, at every stop along the way, then years might pass before I could reach you. Thus, on this occasion, I had no choice but to don a mask."
"...I see."
The fact that Opera O had prioritized seeing her over fan service made the trainer think, rather distantly, She really does love me, doesn't she? At the same time, she was forced to admit that it made her heart skip a beat.
But unfortunately, before the trainer could really dwell on that student-like flutter in her chest, she had a much more immediate problem to deal with: the people around them had already begun whispering things like, Wait, isn't that T.M. Opera O?
"For now, come with me. We can't stay out here."
"Gladly! I am eager to see what sort of citadel serves as your castle in this land!"
"It's just an ordinary monthly rental apartment."
Walking beside Opera O and guiding them quickly down the road, the trainer found that even though they had only been apart a short while, it felt oddly nostalgic. The familiar atmosphere Opera O carried with her was so comforting that it loosened the trainer's tongue more than usual.
"So why did you come?"
"Do you need to ask? I came to see you."
"Did something happen?"
"No reason is required to return to the side of one's companion."
Opera O had said, Leave things here to me, hadn't she?
Then again, she had never said she wouldn't come visit. And since today was her day off, it wasn't as though she had done anything wrong. More than that... the trainer couldn't deny she was pleased that Opera O had thought of her strongly enough to come all this way.
"At least you could've contacted me first."
"I left my phone behind in the dormitory. Ah, but of course I did not forget Josephine. I brought her with me at all times, just as I should! See?"
Opera O said that proudly as she produced her beloved hand mirror from her pocket and showed it off.
Of course. She could forget the indispensable machine of modern civilization, yet remember her cherished hand mirror without fail. Very Opera O.
Though now that the trainer thought about it...
"How on earth did you make it all the way here without your phone?"
"Instinct—ah, no, I mean a fin-de-siècle overlord's guiding intuition! For the sake of none other than you, there is no difficulty I cannot overcome!"
For the tiniest instant Opera O glanced away before answering in full dignity. The trainer had half expected her to say she had written the address down somewhere—but no, it genuinely seemed as though she had just come on sheer force of spirit.
What would have happened if they hadn't run into each other by chance? Why hadn't Opera O contacted her before leaving the dorm? The trainer had any number of things she could have said.
But Opera O was so completely herself, so absurdly, wonderfully herself, that the trainer found her too lovable to scold.
"Hehe."
"W-Why are you laughing?"
"It's nothing. I was just thinking that you really are the fin-de-siècle overlord, T.M. Opera O. My companion, through and through."
The words slipped out before the trainer could stop them.
The instant they left her mouth, she regretted it. That had been unbelievably embarrassing. But Opera O, she thought, would surely brush it off.
And yet no response came.
When the trainer looked over, she realized Opera O had stopped walking and had fallen slightly behind her.
"Huh? What's wro—"
"...Allow me to go on ahead!"
And the moment the trainer turned to face her, Opera O strode past.
"Wait! You don't know the way!"
"...I have decided that the overlord ought to walk in front. Trainer-kun, guide me by your voice! I request fin-de-siècle navigation!"
With that declaration, Opera O started off a little ahead.
What, exactly, had just happened?
The trainer couldn't understand all of Opera O's actions any better than usual, so she simply started giving directions, just as requested.
Still, one thing bothered her all the way until the end:
In that brief moment when Opera O turned, her face had looked red.
Was it just the evening sunlight? Or had she really seen it?
If Opera O had been human, perhaps red ears would have given it away. But she was not. And so there was no clue at all to tell the trainer what expression she had been making beneath those horse ears of hers.
In the end, the trainer never found out.
...
............
When Trainer-kun told Opera O she would be leaving for that faraway place, the words of blessing and encouragement Opera O gave had not been lies. They had come from her heart.
And it was self-evident that even if she were left alone, she would manage without issue. More than that—she had been certain that by spending time apart from the trainer, she would evolve still further, make her current position all the more absolute, and greet the trainer's triumphant return with even greater splendor.
Opera O imagined it so clearly: her companion returning, and upon seeing how much higher she had risen, smiling in astonishment and praising her to the utmost.
And yet.
You're beautiful, Opera O.
The instant the trainer's voice made those words ring against her ears, Opera O's heart was thrown into chaos as though the heavens themselves had split open.
She had once before lost her composure because of the magic in Trainer-kun's words.
A weakness she had intended to overcome quickly, yet had left unresolved all this time.
This feeling was neither shame nor confusion. It was probably what people called embarrassment. And while Opera O knew such a thing was hardly fitting for the fin-de-siècle overlord, there was something strangely pleasant about feeling it—but only when it came from Trainer-kun.
Leave things here to me!
By fully unleashing the acting skill she had cultivated, Opera O somehow made it through that moment and saw Trainer-kun off on her distant mission. It was, after all, another necessary step on the trainer's road to becoming the king of humankind.
And so Opera O resolved that while she and the trainer walked separate paths, she would continue down her road of conquest with a new goal in addition to her original purpose of making the world happy with her beauty: she would conquer, or at least learn to control, this feeling.
............Though in the end, she could not.
It felt as though half of her had been torn away. As though a crack had run through her soul. The more clearly she recognized the fact that the one who ought to have been at her side was gone, the more one overwhelming urge filled her chest.
She wanted to see the trainer.
She wanted to spend time with her in the same place.
She wanted to hear Trainer-kun call her name in that voice.
Her audience, her fans, her comrades, her rivals, the stage she adorned—everything essential was here. And yet, only after losing that one thing was Opera O able to understand just how immense the missing piece truly was.
So she decided to go to the city where her irreplaceable companion was waiting.
And the moment the trainer was beside her again—simply by walking together, by sharing the same space—all of Opera O's ailments were swept away, and the wounds on her wings healed enough that she could once more soar toward greater heights.
While she walked beside the trainer through the road dyed in twilight, planning to rest in that temporary fortress before returning to where she belonged, the trainer suddenly laughed and said:
It's nothing. I was just thinking that you really are the fin-de-siècle overlord, T.M. Opera O. My companion, through and through.
When Opera O saw the smile the trainer wore beneath the sunset's crimson light, it felt as if the ground vanished beneath her feet—an instant of falling, and floating, both at once. At the same time, all the pieces and gears inside her clicked into place, meshed perfectly, and she heard that sound ring clear in her chest.
She had sung lyrics like that during winning lives.
There had been countless performances centered on such themes.
She knew the love one bore toward family, toward those around you, toward fans, toward all people beneath the sky.
Naturally Opera O loved Trainer-kun too—as the fin-de-siècle overlord, as her trainee, as the companion standing at her side.
But on that day—only then—did she finally become aware that she was in love with this beloved companion of hers.
...
............
Once they reached the apartment, the trainer served Opera O tea and sat across from her, trying discreetly to gauge her expression. But whatever fleeting trace she thought she had seen earlier was already gone.
Perhaps she had imagined it.
As the trainer sipped her own tea, Opera O smiled in satisfaction.
"Splendid! Is this tea fit for royalty?"
"It came from the convenience store."
"Then all the more splendid! A triumph of human ingenuity, built by those who strive tirelessly toward the throne!"
In any case, the trainer seemed to have pleased Opera O with the taste, and that alone was good.
"...Hmm."
Now then, what should she do?
Since Opera O had gone to the trouble of coming all this way, the trainer could hardly just send her straight home. Perhaps they should go out to eat somewhere. She could book Opera O's return ticket online later. Tomorrow was a day off for both her and Tracen Academy anyway, so if worst came to worst, she could somehow obtain permission from the academy for Opera O to stay out and book her a hotel.
When the trainer explained the plan she had just thought up, Opera O's face lit up with delight.
But after a moment, she slowly shook her head.
"Your devotion—and that proposal—are appreciated, Trainer-kun. But there is something that must be done first. Let us settle that before anything else."
"Something first...?"
"Exactly so. First, Trainer-kun—allow me to offer you the highest praise!"
"...Pardon?"
The trainer couldn't make sense of it, and asked reflexively. Opera O gave a small, helpless smile and shook her head again. Being repeatedly looked at with that it's only natural you don't understand expression was, perhaps, somewhat unkind—but the trainer couldn't help it.
"You have accomplished two great feats. It is only proper that you be praised for them."
"Two great feats...? Ah. You mean your two straight Autumn Senior Triple Crowns? But that was only possible because of your ability, Opera O."
"Hm? Autumn Senior??"
For once Opera O found herself staring at the trainer in total seriousness, head tilted. Then she recovered and burst into laughter.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! You are modest to a fault. A future king of humankind needs some arrogance as well, you know?"
So if that wasn't what Opera O meant, then what on earth was it?
And for that matter, how exactly does one become the king of humankind?
The trainer seemed to be frantically trying to work through all that when Opera O rose, walked over, and set both hands on the trainer's shoulders.
From someone as unexpectedly petite as Opera O, being looked down at like that must have felt strangely new.
"Listen well. Two great feats. You pierced the heart of this very fin-de-siècle overlord twice over."
"...What?"
"As I have told you many times, you are more precious than anything. Yes—Trainer-kun, I love you."
Opera O had told her that before. And the trainer knew she was treasured.
But the trainer had never truly understood what form Opera O's so-called love took. Was it the favor a king bestowed upon a vassal? The affection one held for someone dear? A grand, sweeping love for all humanity? Or was it that kind of love—the kind directed at one special person?
"But... twice? When was the second time?"
"When you smiled and called me your companion just now... no—nay! Surely I had already... from long before... fallen in love."
Opera O gently pressed her forehead to the trainer's.
There was no force in it. But with Opera O close enough that the trainer could feel her breath, she could not help noticing the length of those lashes, the brilliance of those eyes, the elegance of the features that made Opera O what she was. The trainer's whole body tensed on its own.
"So I ask you plainly, trainer of mine, future king of humankind, and beloved companion... will you become my lover?"
Before the trainer knew it, a completely straightforward confession—one that left no room whatsoever for misunderstanding—had been whispered into her world.
Until now, the reason Opera O had blushed, grown flustered, and lost composure was probably because she herself had not consciously understood her feelings. But now that she had grasped what they were, there was not a trace of wavering in her voice or her body.
Her confession practically proclaimed that she had not imagined the trainer would reject her even once.
And because it was the trainer—because she knew Opera O—she understood exactly what that meant: not only Opera O's absolute confidence in herself, but the complete, unwavering trust she placed in the trainer.
"Opera O..."
"Come now. Give me your answer."
In that instant, all kinds of things crossed the trainer's mind. Position. Gender. Age. Common sense. Public opinion.
And yet none of them possessed enough force to make her refuse.
She had been claimed by Opera O too, in her own way.
By the fin-de-siècle overlord who was beautiful enough to captivate everyone, who was, to her, the strongest horse girl in the world—and who was now asking for her.
If anything, it felt as though this had been decided from the day the trainer accepted that ring.
No—perhaps from the very first moment they met.
"...Yes."
After agonizing over how to answer, that was the simple word the trainer chose.
A little too plain, perhaps, for a reply to a confession from someone like Opera O, who cared so much about dramatic language. The trainer was already starting to regret that when Opera O suddenly knelt before her and sent her into total confusion.
When Opera O looked up, she wore not the expression of an overlord, but the innocent smile of a girl who was genuinely, overwhelmingly happy. Taking the trainer's left hand, she pressed a soft kiss to the ring on her finger.
"I swear that I will never leave your side, not even for a moment—and that I will love you forever."
"........."
To be honest, the trainer didn't remember what she said back.
...
............
After their relationship changed so dramatically, the trainer was so embarrassed she barely knew what to say. Meanwhile, unconcerned by her confusion, Opera O had already begun unpacking the large bag she brought with her.
Because it was such a huge piece of luggage, the trainer had briefly feared Opera O might have brought an Opera O statue. Thankfully, what came out instead looked like perfectly ordinary overnight things.
Ordinary overnight things?
"What's that?"
"What a strange question, my companion. Naturally, these are the items necessary for my stay here!"
"Ehhh... Well, I guess one night should be manageable..."
"What are you talking about? I just vowed that I would not leave your side even for a moment! Naturally I shall remain here until the day you return in triumph to our royal capital!"
"Wh-what about school?"
"That is where... ahem. Trainer-kun, surely with your talents, some arrangement can be made for a temporary transfer to this academy..."
As the trainer stared at Opera O, her head already beginning to ache, it dawned on her that this was what Opera O had meant earlier.
When the trainer met her gaze, it was obvious from Opera O's eyes that she had already made up her mind. She was in that mode where once she said something, there would be no changing it.
So the trainer gave up very quickly.
It wasn't as if this was anything new. And the truth was, she liked being swept around by Opera O. She liked being relied on by her too.
"Alright. I'll see what I can do."
"!! As expected of you, Trainer-kun! As your reward, I shall bestow upon you an Opera O statue! Wait here—I will contact the academy at once—"
"I'll pass on the statue, thanks."
...In the end, the next day the trainer sent Opera O back to Tracen, made an absurd number of unreasonable requests, and after several more days, somehow managed to make Opera O's wish a reality.
But it happened sooner than expected, and the trainer would get to see the way Opera O lit up with joy, so surely that was cheap compared to its worth.
And then, the morning after that, after breakfast.
"Trainer-kun. There is one extremely important question I must ask you."
The moment the trainer served tea after their meal, Opera O fixed her with a grave expression.
"Okay... what is it?"
"Tell me—would you prefer Honey or Amore?"
"...I'm sorry?"
The trainer blinked at the completely unexpected—quite possibly unprecedented—question.
"A form of address for the one I love most. I considered it all through the night. Since it would also serve as a declaration to those around us, Honey might be best, since the audience would understand it easily. But following the will of the overlord's heart and adopting Amore would be equally fitting. In the end, however, the choice belongs to you, and so I have decided to entrust it to you! Naturally, if you would prefer some other appellation, I—"
"W-Wait. Stop. Hold on."
The trainer knew that Honey and Amore were both terms for one's lover. That much, at least.
And since she had accepted Opera O's confession, it was true that their relationship was now not only trainee and exclusive trainer, not only companions, but also lovers. So strictly speaking, it wasn't strange for Opera O to want to call her something like that.
Even so... the trainer couldn't exactly handle being asked so suddenly. It was too embarrassing.
With her face heating up, she turned away and snuck a glance at Opera O's smile out of the corner of her eye. Opera O's eyes were sparkling more brightly than ever, and the trainer immediately realized there would be no escaping this.
Once Opera O was like this, no one in the world could stop her. Besides, rejecting a form of affection from her girlfriend would make the trainer the terrible one. So if she had to choose, then surely the less common one would be easier to bear.
"Then... th-that one... A-Amore..."
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Your feelings have reached me clearly, Amore! And truly—the way you blush so adorably makes you lovelier than ever."
Opera O reached out to stroke the trainer's cheek, then gazed at her with softened eyes. The trainer was not mentally strong enough to take that in stride.
"Now then, judgment has been rendered! Let us go, Amore! In order to make this academy our new castle, it is time to build the next chapter of the overlord's legend!"
"Um—your transfer isn't official yet, remember? Right now we're still waiting for their response. Also... you can call me that if you want, but don't use it too casually, okay? It's still really embarrassing for me. And also—"
"Naturally. I understand perfectly when such a term ought to be used. Rest easy, Amore. My beloved one."
...Yes.
The trainer was absolutely not sure she should rest easy at all.
This was mortifying. She had underestimated Opera O. Or rather, perhaps she had underestimated what it meant to be loved and pursued with Opera O's kind of limitless intensity. She was already somewhat afraid of what might become of her from here on.
...
............
And so, on the day Opera O's temporary transfer was finally approved, the trainer stood before the gathered students—not only the girls she had been instructing, but many others as well—and introduced Opera O as she stood there proudly with her chest out.
"—So that's why, for the duration of my assignment here, my trainee T.M. Opera O will also be joining this academy on a temporary transfer starting today."
"Though the time is short, once you behold my beauty, time itself shall—"
"...Opera O."
"Ah, yes. I understand. ...Everyone, I look forward to working with you."
Perhaps it was the result of all the careful, earnest persuading the trainer had done about not overwhelming everyone with the full force of Opera O's presence—but for all that she was still imperious and still inexplicably sparkly, Opera O was behaving fairly normally.
Then again, she was wearing her race outfit, and before arriving she had already taken photos with fans from this academy, handed out autographs, and delivered a speech, so perhaps it was too late to call anything under control.
In fact, the girls were already staring at Opera O with heated eyes—whether out of fighting spirit or admiration, it was hard to tell. But perhaps because they had been overwhelmed so thoroughly by her presence, none of them were actually stepping forward to speak.
The trainer still didn't know what condition Opera O was truly in, and since the levels of the students here were all over the place, it would be difficult to have her train together with all of them. So just as the trainer was about to consult with an instructor about choosing an appropriate menu, Opera O winked at her and made a ringing declaration.
"Then as a prelude before training, I hereby declare the opening of a Fin-de-Siècle Overlord Race!"
"...In other words, a practice race?"
"Precisely. As expected of you, Trainer-kun. Any who believe themselves worthy—step forth!"
The students, wholly unaccustomed to Opera O's manner, looked at one another.
"It would be a rare and precious opportunity to witness my back as I truly run and make it a source of growth. There is no reason to hold back."
"!!!!"
"And not only you! I will accept the challenge of anyone gathered here! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
Because Opera O's words were supported by real ability and real results, there was something genuinely regal in the arrogant way she said them. Some students shrank back. Others had their fighting spirit lit on fire. Even girls who had been training elsewhere with their own trainers began to step forward one after another until the field had been decided.
Opera O would surely win overwhelmingly—so overwhelmingly that she would not even permit the others to step on her shadow.
For a moment the trainer wondered who she was supposed to root for, given her position. Then, as always, she decided to cheer for Opera O.
Just as the trainer drew breath to send her usual encouragement toward the dependable back she had watched depart for the course so many times before, Opera O turned back and declared in a voice as bright and lofty as ever:
"Then watch me well from there, Amore! In any contest, I shall give my all—and return bearing victory in these hands!!"
"Wh—!"
The entire area erupted in whispers.
Didn't you say you knew when was appropriate to use that!?
The trainer tried to convey that with her eyes alone, but the blank, innocent expression Opera O gave her in return seemed to say, We are in front of an audience, are we not? Then surely now is precisely the moment.
Regretting that she hadn't negotiated this in much more detail beforehand, the trainer half gave up. At the same time, some childish stubbornness rose in her too. It stung her pride a little.
So, recklessly, the trainer decided to throw one back at Opera O in return.
"Okay! Go win, Tesoro!"
Her desperate counterattack landed—at least for a moment. Opera O showed a completely unguarded, stunned expression for the briefest instant, and the trainer felt the cheap thrill of victory.
That triumph lasted no time at all.
The trainer had underestimated T.M. Opera O yet again.
The surprise vanished at once, replaced by the most radiant smile the trainer had ever seen on Opera O's face—the sort that could melt the entire world, captivate anyone who beheld it. Opera O walked straight toward her, took her hand gently, bent at the waist like a noble paying homage, and pressed her lips to the back of it.
Then, in a voice that was not her pealing laughter, but the same soft one the trainer had once heard in the office—only now filled openly, unmistakably with love—Opera O said:
"Yes. This victory shall be offered to you, my beloved."
"........."
At that instant, the trainer's head went blank, heat rushing into her face. Her heart pounded violently.
As she watched Opera O head for the turf, the trainer touched the place she had been kissed and finally recognized the feeling swelling up inside her.
...Ah. I see.
Apparently, she really did love Opera O with all her heart too.
As for what happened after that—
A reporter happened to capture the whole scene. Which led to headlines reading: Fin-de-Siècle Overlord in Love! Her Partner Is Her Own Trainer!!
And then, in response to that article, the trainer was dragged into holding a press conference with Opera O where they ended up announcing their engagement.
That, however, is another story.