The moment Kitasan Black crossed the finish line at Nakayama, time seemed to freeze—and then the entire grandstand erupted like a firework igniting mid-air, boiling over instantly.
A sea of spectators waved their arms in perfect unison, their faces flushed red with excitement, eyes wide, uncontrollable cheers pouring from their mouths.
Even some staff members at the track's edge were swept into the fervor. Photographers closest to the track were frantically snapping away, shutter clicks blending into a constant buzz, reporters passionately narrating the moment into their cameras.
...
At the same moment, inside Tracen Academy's gym.
Gentle lighting spilled softly across various training equipment. Only a few Uma Musume were training there now, their gazes drawn irresistibly to the large screen hung high on the wall, displaying Nakayama's celebration.
Duramente was among them.
She wore a simple short-sleeved training shirt and shorts, a conspicuous athletic bandage wrapped around one leg.
Her eyes weren't on the screen. Instead, she firmly gripped dumbbells, fully focused on performing overhead presses.
Each lift tightened the muscles of her arms, a fine sheen of sweat already glistening across her forehead.
Completing her set, she placed the dumbbells at her side, her gaze subconsciously drifting toward the bandaged leg. A faint shadow dimmed her previously steady eyes.
Her hand reached out, gently stroking the bandage's edge—an action delicate yet helpless.
A doctor's stern instructions involuntarily surfaced in her mind:
"Currently, the inflammation isn't severe, and your intense training probably masked the symptoms, which is why you didn't notice sooner."
"But this doesn't mean you can continue that training regimen. This inflammation needs proper rest. High-intensity exercise is strictly prohibited for now."
"Otherwise, not only could your racing career suffer, but you may end up with permanent damage."
Then, Air Groove-san's concerned yet uncompromising warning followed:
"This time you absolutely can't act on your own—you must listen."
"Being forced off the track... I know how hard that is to accept. Trust me, I've experienced it firsthand."
"But if you really don't want to give up permanently, you have to honestly step back right now."
"Only by stopping now can you achieve what you truly desire."
"Don't worry—I'm not asking you to quit entirely. I'll help you plan out proper rehabilitation and maintenance training."
Their words echoed persistently in her ears. Duramente unconsciously bit down on her lip, frustration surging from deep within her heart.
She couldn't help glancing toward the gym's wall-mounted screen again, eyes reflecting conflict and disappointment.
Right now, she should have been up there.
Whether still racing in Japan or already off competing in Europe, she should have been dashing freely along some track, perhaps already celebrating a victory.
But instead, she was stuck here, performing mere upper-body exercises—training so trivial compared to what she'd been capable of before.
Suddenly, her eyes brightened slightly.
The camera on screen shifted focus, zooming in on a small, sweat-drenched, smiling face.
Then came a full-body shot, followed by a handshake filled with genuine warmth.
"…Congratulations, Kita-chan."
Duramente murmured softly, unconsciously smiling faintly.
Her voice still carried a faint trace of frustration and loneliness, but far more clearly came genuine joy and pride.
Once the camera moved on, she smiled once more, turning back toward the dumbbells.
At that moment, the gym door opened, and another Uma Musume entered, clad in a long-sleeve training shirt and shorts.
Her chestnut hair was cropped short, a distinctive white fringe brushing across her forehead. Upon entering, she immediately raised her right arm horizontally, stretching and rotating it vigorously with her left, brimming with energy, clearly ready to start training.
Noticing the excited voices and images from the TV, she glanced toward the screen with mild interest.
"Oh? Kitasan-san… First place in the St. Lite Kinen, huh? I'd better step up my game, too."
When this Uma Musume entered, Duramente had glanced briefly before swiftly returning attention to her own exercises.
But hearing that quiet murmur, her expression shifted slightly, looking back again, thoughtful memories surfacing in her eyes.
"Cheval...Grand?"
Murmuring her classmate's name, Duramente pondered briefly, nodded to herself, then resumed lifting the dumbbells.
Hearing someone softly call her name, Cheval Grand at the door paused.
Scanning the gym reflexively, she quickly spotted Duramente in the corner.
Duramente had already resumed her training, gripping the dumbbells with intense concentration, lifting slowly and lowering steadily.
Her arms trembled slightly from exertion; every lift visibly defined her muscle lines. Previously fine droplets of sweat now coalesced, sliding down her cheeks, dripping heavily from her chin onto the floor.
Surprise flickered in Cheval Grand's eyes. Thinking for a moment, she swiftly walked over.
Standing nearby Duramente, she cautiously chose her words, speaking with gentle concern:
"Um…Duramente-san, your leg injury probably hasn't healed yet, right? Isn't training right now a bit…too soon?"
Duramente's movements paused briefly before continuing, and she calmly looked over at Cheval Grand.
"It's fine."
"It's only my leg that can't handle running; my upper body's okay."
"If I don't keep training now, coming back later will be even harder. I have to maintain this."
"Air Groove-san approved it."
"And more importantly…"
"If I don't do this, I can't fulfill my promise with Kita-chan."
Her gaze drifted away again, directly toward the screen on the wall.
The joyful cheers from the screen continued, now moving into the awards ceremony.
The celebratory scene seemed to radiate an invisible attraction, a kind of warmth. Duramente's eyes burned hotter as she stared.
"…You really are something else, you know."
Glancing at the screen as well, Cheval Grand turned her eyes back to Duramente, her gaze becoming serious.
"But you're right. Kitasan-san… really is amazing."
"Yes… I recall…"
Pulling her eyes back, Duramente met Cheval Grand's gaze again.
"You signed up for the Kikuka Sho too, right?"
"…You actually pay attention to stuff like that?"
Cheval Grand stared, astonished, then laughed lightly.
"I always thought someone as aloof as you wouldn't care about anything…"
"Oh wait, let me correct myself: You don't care about anything except Kitasan-san and racing. That's more accurate, huh?"
Duramente widened her eyes slightly in confusion.
"…Why would you say that? And… aloof?"
"You…really didn't know?"
Cheval Grand widened her eyes too, her expression equally startled.
But suddenly, as if remembering something funny, she smiled strangely, glancing furtively around the gym.
"Well, never mind that—I've got to train too. I'll bring over some equipment first, then tell you."
Under Duramente's confused and curious gaze, Cheval Grand quickly brought over a barbell.
She sat beside Duramente, setting the barbell down without immediately training. Instead, she looked over, amused:
"Well…I'll just say it straight, Duramente-san. A lot of people think you're very aloof."
"Specifically…"
"Like when you're walking around campus—you never greet anyone. Even when someone says hello, you just grunt or nod at most."
"So tell me, isn't someone who barely acknowledges others exactly the definition of aloof?"
Cheval Grand smiled teasingly, shrugging lightly.
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