After Yasui Makoto's pointers, Kitasan Black lay on the cushioning mat for a while, staring blankly at the sky for quite some time, before rolling over and sitting up in one smooth motion. She rubbed her wrist guard, eyes sweeping up and down Yasui Makoto.
"…What's wrong?"
Subconsciously asking, Yasui Makoto immediately grew tense. "Did you get hurt? Let me see…"
Before Kitasan Black could react, he leaned over, grasped her wrist, and carefully undid the velcro of her wrist guard.
Under the morning sunlight, the skin on the girl's wrist shimmered softly, soaked in sweat, like mother-of-pearl.
There were no scrapes or bruises, only a faint pink impression from the wrist guard's Velcro, gradually fading as blood circulated beneath her skin.
His fingertips pressed lightly, clearly feeling the supple elasticity beneath the surface.
This was the elasticity of fascia built up over countless training sessions, holding latent power like a fully drawn composite bow.
Tracing along the fascia and pale-blue veins up to her wrist joint, the gentle curves where the radius and ulna overlapped felt smooth beneath his fingers. From metacarpals to phalanges, bone texture and joint connections all seemed perfectly normal.
Instinctively, he checked the base of her palm.
Whenever someone fell, this was the place that instinctively hit the ground first—if the angle formed wasn't aligned with the body's center of gravity, injury was likely.
If she'd gotten hurt just now, it would probably have been here.
However, all he felt was the familiar callused layer, hardened by countless strength exercises, tough as the rubber granules on anti-slip track shoes.
Muscle and bone condition seemed fine too. Pressing slightly harder even felt somewhat rough against his palm.
"No abrasions or bruising; muscle tone and bone texture seem perfectly normal…"
Still holding Kitasan Black's wrist and palm, Yasui Makoto murmured doubtfully while glancing at the cushioning mat:
"Could it be some other spot? But that's unlikely…"
"I—I'm fine, Trainer…"
Finally recovering her senses, Kitasan Black hurriedly withdrew her hand, unconsciously rubbing the places Yasui had just inspected.
"I was just…surprised that you actually made a joke like that…"
"A joke?" Yasui Makoto froze momentarily.
"How should I say this…"
Kitasan tapped her chin thoughtfully.
"In the past, whenever something happened, you'd either comfort me or explain clearly how to do better next time… you never said stuff like 'your training wasn't enough.'"
Reflecting for a moment himself, Yasui Makoto realized Kitasan was right. While he'd often joked casually to lighten the atmosphere in other situations, he rarely, if ever, joked directly with this Uma Musume.
"Actually, Dia-chan and I were talking recently about how you've changed a bit lately. I think it's a good thing," Kitasan continued.
"It's not that the way you were before was bad, but sometimes you were just a little too serious, and occasionally it felt a bit stressful."
"But now, how should I say it…"
She suddenly smiled warmly.
"Maybe it's like Crown-chan said: Trainer, you're really not that old yourself."
"It's natural at your age to have things you like, or to joke around like earlier. That feels more like how someone your age should be."
"But since Trainer said that…alright!"
Her expression instantly shifted again, and she energetically pumped her fist.
"If I haven't trained enough, then I'll just keep training!"
"Shall I start again now, Trainer?"
...
Over the next few days, between special training sessions, Yasui Makoto unconsciously found himself reflecting on this supposed "change."
Carefully thinking back, it seemed exactly as Kitasan Black had said.
In the beginning, whether training, racing, or daily interactions, all he subconsciously thought about was how best to guide this Uma Musume with all his knowledge and experience.
But after months spent together, day and night, the trainer-trainee relationship had subtly shifted.
While he'd grown accustomed to her obedience, maturity, and diligence, he'd gradually begun paying more attention to her daily life and emotional state.
Recently, these changes had become even more evident.
Thanks to Extreme Acrobatics as a shared interest, along with their mutual enthusiasm for travel, movies, and other hobbies, deep down he'd started seeing Kitasan Black not merely as someone he trained, but as a friend and a peer.
Interacting with her now felt just like training with his old colleagues—more relaxed and comfortable.
Or perhaps, as Satono Crown had put it, he was finally behaving like someone his own age should, both emotionally and socially.
This new way of interacting was clearly better than before.
Though he couldn't fully guess what Kitasan Black was thinking, Yasui clearly felt he was better able to sense her moods and occasionally even predict her thoughts.
Not only did it improve their training efficiency, but it made their daily interactions feel far more natural.
Realizing this, he found himself looking forward even more eagerly to the days ahead, gaining greater confidence in the training and competitions yet to come.
On this particular day, after wrapping up training and summarizing their progress as usual, Yasui Makoto was preparing to head to the cafeteria with Kitasan Black when he suddenly received a message from Special Week.
As Yasui opened the message, Kitasan, busy tidying up their gear as usual, asked casually:
"Another meeting, Trainer?"
"Not this time. It's from Special Week-san… Hmm?"
After quickly reading the text, Yasui was caught by surprise, glancing toward the academy cafeteria.
"Special Week-senpai…"
Kitasan Black suddenly became anxious.
"Could it be that she can't participate in the training race anymore? That would be such a shame…"
The lineup for the weekend's training race had already been set, with the same number of Uma Musume supporting as before.
Aside from Orfevre and Deep Impact, the two Triple Crown winners, the other two were Vodka and Special Week.
Yasui had long considered Vodka invaluable due to her unique experience in winning the Japanese Derby; given a chance, he definitely wanted Kitasan to run the full 2400-meter course alongside her.
Special Week, aside from her racing experience, brought another advantage in her preparations for the upcoming Summer Dream Trophy.
Ever since arriving in Tokyo, she'd been doing restorative training in preparation for the race months later.
Her self-training expertise was already extensive, and with Daiwa Scarlet and Vodka assisting, it had improved further. Now, with Silence Suzuka—another close friend—in Tokyo as well, her training level naturally rose even higher.
However, Special Week's message wasn't what Kitasan had feared—it was instead about another friend who also wanted to lend a hand.
"Come on, don't be so pessimistic."
Putting away his phone, Yasui Makoto gave Kitasan a slightly amused glance, shaking his head.
"It's good news. A friend of Special Week-san recently arrived in Tokyo, also invited for the Summer Dream Trophy.
"When she heard you were preparing for the Japanese Derby, she happily offered to help."
"Eh? Really?"
After a brief moment of surprise, Kitasan quickly grew excited.
"If she's also joining the Dream Trophy, she must be an incredible senpai!
"I'll have to thank Spe-senpai properly later—I'm sure she personally invited this senpai to help me out.
"Oh, Trainer, who's this senpai? Did Spe-senpai mention her name?"
"She did—and she even sent her racing records and profile along with it, as if worried I might refuse."
Patting his pocket where the phone was, Yasui jokingly commented, a subtle, strange look flickering in his eyes.
"This senpai's name is…
"Grass Wonder.
"You know her, right, Kita-chan?"