Author's Note: I am not an editor or a pro writer. I will write this the best I can and edit it the best I can. I also do not own Uma Musume, for it is owned by Cygames. Watch the animes, and read the mangas for they are pretty good. Finally, please enjoy.
Tactical Gray POV
Recently, I was assigned the role of team strategist, but right now I feel more like an event planner. Between researching what we can do in the future and creating daily training schedules, my workload has been relentless. Still, I don't mind. Studying opponents, identifying threats, and finding weaknesses is what I've always done best. Back in my old life, I worked closely with trainers and coaches to not only improve myself, but to figure out how to strategically defeat whoever lined up against me.
I never had much talent. But my love for running always outweighed that fact.
I started young, convinced I was good—until I faced real competition. That was when reality hit. I wasn't gifted; I had simply started early and worked hard. I had the killer instinct, race sense, and tactical knowledge, but when it came to raw ability, I was completely outmatched. Worse, my body took forever to adapt. Techniques that others learned naturally took me years to understand.
No one believed I could be great—not my family, not my friends, not my loved ones, not even my trainers or coaches. But I refused to give up the one thing I truly loved. So I leaned into what I did have. I learned psychology. I learned dirty tactics, rule bending, and even race sabotage, alongside legitimate strategy and relentless practice. I studied rulebooks, race tracks, opponents, race formats—anything that could give me an edge.
By race day, I knew everything. I knew my opponents' habits, weaknesses, and breaking points. I set up their failures before the race even began, and finished the job during it. To them and their fans, I was a coward, a villain, the devil. I learned how to trash talk and how to fight, because confrontation always followed the way I raced.
I've been suspended, humiliated, harassed, and humbled. But I never crossed the line far enough to be permanently banned. I moved between teams, organizations, leagues, and race types so often you'd think I was a mixed racer by default.
And still, I kept going.
No matter the team, the coaches, or the league, I did the same thing. That's how much I loved running. Now, it's just a new group of people—and a new role. I still want to run like everyone else, so every day I train or research, hopping between computer cafés and libraries using supplies KiWi somehow acquired. I checked the academies, but without race credentials or academic histories for any of us, it was a dead end. It felt intentional—like whoever sent us here never wanted us to enter traditional training programs.
While searching, an ad popped up for a local freestyle running tournament—probably thanks to my search history. I was running out of options anyway, so I clicked. The site listed relay races, obstacle races, and flat races on both dirt and turf. That was enough to catch my attention.
I started researching freestyle racing—and what I found surprised me.
Flat races ranged from short sprints to marathon-length endurance runs, on both dirt and turf. Perfect for our entire group. Obstacle races allowed physical contact, sabotage, temporary alliances, and chaotic tracks filled with hazards. I loved it immediately—not just for myself, but for the wilder members of the team and our free runners and mixed racers.
Then there were relay races—four runners per team, all tackling the same course. Not what we were originally looking for, but I knew several people would love the team-focused aspect. Finally, there were mixed races—hybrids that fused multiple formats into one insane event. Watching clips online felt unreal.
It was perfect.
That's when I wondered why I'd never heard of it before. Then I remembered: Jungle Pocket transferred from freestyle racing to regular racing after seeing Fuji Kiseki run. That was my answer.
Further research revealed why freestyle racing stayed hidden. It was operated outside the URA's control, so they actively suppressed it—blocking advertising, limiting broadcasts, and running smear campaigns labeling it violent and dangerous. They scheduled major URA events to overlap with freestyle tournaments and ensured it never gained mainstream traction in Japan. Internationally, the league was massive—but Japan was treated as a minor market, hosting only open tournaments.
That's why it barely existed in the franchise. Most people here didn't even know it was real.
I documented everything—printing materials, writing summaries, and even putting together a PowerPoint and brochures to make the presentation easier. I briefed the other four leaders beforehand so they could review the data.
Their reactions were promising. Mama Blues, Great Wonder, and Tyrant Rose were excited. Victory Gate seemed indifferent, but I knew better—she was too busy managing the team's chaos to focus yet. Honestly, she's the perfect leader for a group like this.
Presentation day arrived, and I laid everything out. I explained the global organization—the Free Style Racing League (FSRL)—and its tournament structure: Opens, Minors, Super Minors, Majors, Super Majors, and the Premier level, all accumulating points and prize money. I detailed the race formats, and I watched interest turn into excitement.
When I mentioned the optional end-of-event concerts—traditional performances teams could choose to hold—the room exploded.
Mama watched everyone closely, ready to help. Victory Gate fell into deep thought, already considering the team's future. Rose lit up at the obstacle races. Great Wonder surprised me by gravitating toward the relays. ImP and KiWi were just happy to race again. Lily, Spice, Rain, and Jo focused on the world-class competition. Norn, BlaD, and Sweets were clearly excited about the performances that were absolutely going to happen.
When I called for a vote, everyone agreed. Victory Gate held back until the final moment—only agreeing once the team was unanimous. I respected that. It's exactly what a great leader should do.
Then I started assigning tasks.
Rose and Great Wonder would scout teams that might be hiring. Rain would oversee training. BlaD would begin composing music. Norn would handle acquiring necessary outfits. The rest were divided where they could best help. I asked Victory Gate and Mama to prepare for interviews and to ready the team for scrutiny.
Everyone scattered to their assignments.
We're about to be very busy.