Though deeply moved, Yasui Makoto hadn't lost his rationality.
He wasn't certain how trainers worked in other countries, but in Japan, the atmosphere was notably conservative.
Yes, trainer academies existed, but they only taught very conventional theory.
The real intricacies of guiding an Uma Musume—right down to the subtle points of daily interactions—were entirely absent from those classes.
Yet, these subtleties were precisely what mattered most.
Take temperament, or "kishou," as an example.
Simply put, Uma Musume with good kishou were far easier to instruct during training or racing. In competitions especially, they'd easily apply a trainer's instructions before races.
Those with poor kishou presented the exact opposite.
These concepts were introduced in classes, yet specific case studies or approaches were never covered.
One workaround was to research publicly available resources—papers, interviews, etc.
But this method was incredibly inefficient.
As such, the common practice in Japan remained the old-fashioned master-apprentice system.
It didn't necessarily require formal titles, but rather relied on close mentorship from experienced trainers.
However, becoming close with such veterans was rarely achievable at the academy—it usually depended on family connections.
In a sense, Yasui himself benefited from this atmosphere.
With both his parents being industry veterans back home, he'd received advice from an early age. It was only that their influence didn't extend to Tokyo.
Deep down, though, Yasui believed this practice hindered the development of the whole industry. Even so, he wasn't interested in trying to challenge the established traditions by himself.
Thus, after coming to Tokyo, although he never sought mentorship, he also didn't plan on sharing his most private insights with others—
Particularly those advanced ideas brought from his previous life.
Yet, when it came to Uma Musume, Yasui didn't have such reservations.
Like with Air Groove: when they first met, he hadn't said anything, yet she'd willingly shared plenty about academy life and training tips.
In turn, Yasui also gladly shared his own insights—including taking care of Duramente recently.
Similarly, he had no qualms about sharing with Agnes Tachyon either.
After seeing her previous demeanor, hearing her passionate speech, he found himself naturally inclined to trust this Uma Musume, filled with regret and stubbornly clinging to her dreams.
"…Of course. My professional ethics aren't a problem."
A fleeting glint of joy flashed in Agnes Tachyon's eyes. Her lips curled into a satisfied smile.
"Then, thank you very much, Yasui-kun. I'll strictly follow your conditions."
"Oh, by the way," she tilted her head slightly toward the door. "Air Groove-senpai said she already spoke to Almond Eye's parents. Those two would like a private talk with you."
"That kid… kukuku, she truly is exceptional. Seems you're planning to sign her."
"But that kind of negotiation is beyond my ability. Good luck with that yourself."
...
About a week later, at night, Yasui Makoto's room at the Unkaisou Inn on Mount Mitou.
The bright overhead lamp stretched his shadow as he sat in front of the desk.
Piled on the table were stacks of training logs. A few scattered sheets of scratch paper lay messily around, while the wastebasket at the table's foot overflowed with crumpled paper balls scribbled full of notes.
Ripping a page from his notebook, he balled it up, tossed it toward the bin, and then closed the notebook. Reaching out, he picked up the topmost training report.
Dense data and annotations filled the paper, meticulously recording Kitasan Black's training results today: progress in overload training, sprint pace, endurance duration…
As his eyes passed over these details, he nodded slightly, unconsciously recalling the voices of Almond Eye's parents from a week ago.
"Mr. Yasui, you're certainly a promising young talent; the entire industry recognizes that."
With polite formality, Almond Eye's father had smiled gently. "Especially considering Kitasan Black's outstanding results, which are indeed impressive."
"But as you surely understand, Mr. Yasui, we've always planned a short-to-mile strategy for Almond Eye."
"Judging by her current performance and the recent medical report, she's undoubtedly suited to this distance."
At that point, the middle-aged man's brows had slightly furrowed, and he continued solemnly:
"It's not that surpassing the distance limitations hasn't occurred before—it has—but such cases are exceedingly rare."
"I certainly don't doubt your capabilities, Mr. Yasui. However… we still prefer to stick to our current plans."
"Of course, if you and Kitasan Black show even more extraordinary performances in upcoming races, then perhaps…"
"…We could slowly discuss this further."
Those carefully courteous words echoed repeatedly in Yasui's head, prompting him to silently smile bitterly.
Such typical Japanese politeness—appearing tactful and leaving room for reconsideration—actually signified a clear rejection.
The couple wasn't willing to entrust Almond Eye to his guidance. Their "slow discussion" was merely politeness.
Thinking more carefully, their reluctance wasn't unreasonable.
Even though externally, he appeared as a promising young trainer already excelling with Kitasan Black in various major races—including several G1 titles—talented trainers weren't uncommon. Countless prodigies flared brightly only to fade quickly afterward.
Even Kitasan Black herself could still end up the same way.
Trainers were relatively few. Only dozens passed certification annually, while thousands of Uma Musume debuted each year.
From Almond Eye's parents' viewpoint, if Yasui had already reached his peak and fell into decline after losing the next race or the one after, naturally they couldn't risk their precious daughter's future on him.
Thus, changing their minds anytime soon—at least this year—would probably be impossible.
Contemplating this, Yasui Makoto turned toward his computer. After a brief pause, he opened the trainer's backend interface and pulled up the race schedule.
At present, he only had Kitasan Black as his assigned Uma Musume, so the race schedule was just a single page.
The next races listed were the St. Lite Kinen in half a month and the Kikuka Sho two months later.
He stared at these two races for a moment before turning to the year-end G1.
The Arima Kinen.
In the Twinkle Series, the Classic Triple Crown carried enormous symbolic significance.
Yet, from a career-wide perspective, these three races comprised less than one-third of an Uma Musume's total career value.
The Classic Triple Crown showcased potential. But genuine, lasting greatness was proven by victories in older-horse G1 events, especially mid-to-long-distance races.
The Tenno Sho Spring, Tenno Sho Autumn, the Takarazuka Kinen, the internationally renowned Japan Cup, and the Arima Kinen.
Rivals appearing in these top-tier races were all tested and battle-hardened Uma Musume.
Defeating such strong opponents would prove the Classic-year achievements weren't merely flashes of brilliance—but the true beginning of a journey toward legendary status, even a king's throne.
Different from other G1s, the Arima Kinen and Takarazuka Kinen were special, resembling all-star races like the Dream Trophy—needing no preliminary races but instead determined by fan voting.
Gaining enough votes to run in the Arima Kinen meant that, in the fans' eyes, this Uma Musume was among the greatest of her generation.
The voting itself wasn't restricted to Classic-year runners—any active competitor had the chance to appear.