Yasui Makoto had initially planned to give Kitasan Black some time off to fully relax and enjoy the thrill of her victory.
What he didn't expect was that he'd inadvertently earned a rare moment of rest for himself as well.
Although their training loads differed, from the moment the training camp began, he had set an example by joining Kitasan Black in high-intensity training sessions.
In fact, ever since he'd become a trainer, he had maintained a disciplined training routine without ever slacking off.
It was true that human physiology couldn't be directly compared to an Umamusume's physique.
But many of the principles behind their training were the same.
As a trainer, having a strong body and personally experiencing the physical demands of various exercises wasn't just effective; it was essential to giving precise guidance to his Umamusume.
Yet, as Kitasan Black's assigned trainer, he felt his situation was probably unique compared to most others.
Kitasan Black's stamina was simply too extraordinary—far beyond what any ordinary person could handle.
Training loads that other Umamusume barely completed with all their might were trivial for her. She breezed through them effortlessly.
What other Umamusume considered barely tolerable levels of intensity were, for Kitasan, only just approaching the appropriate range.
And levels of training no other Umamusume could endure were merely the starting point of her actual limit.
Throughout their preparations for the Kikuka Sho, the constant tension and high focus had prevented Yasui from noticing his own exhaustion.
His lifelong habit of training had allowed him to sustain that demanding pace.
But now that the race was over, he deeply realized how utterly exhausted he had become after all this time spent keeping up with Kitasan.
As if to compound matters, the night of the Kikuka Sho and the following days had been filled with endless interviews and invitations.
There was no doubt—after securing the Classic Triple Crown, Kitasan Black's popularity had skyrocketed, and her standing in the public eye had completely transformed.
Naturally, his own reputation as her trainer had risen accordingly.
Yesterday morning had started with a lengthy media interview.
Facing reporters' rapid-fire questions, he'd kept a polite smile on his face, patiently responding with prepared answers, though internally, he'd been thoroughly drained.
Before he could even catch his breath after the interview, the Association had suddenly organized another celebration banquet.
It seemed to be some kind of promotional event for the Classic Triple Crown or a special celebration for the Kikuka Sho itself.
In any case, there'd been no end to people approaching him—either praising Kitasan's outstanding performance or subtly probing for his training secrets.
His popularity had indeed soared, and the fatigue had soared along with it.
Unfortunately, the banquet attendees were all influential figures, accompanied by academy officials like Tokai Teio and Mejiro McQueen.
He could only force himself to remain alert, repeatedly raising and lowering his glass, offering endless polite pleasantries.
After finally managing to escape from the celebration, he hadn't walked far before being stopped by sponsors' representatives.
They'd greeted him with wide smiles, eager to discuss promotional collaboration involving Kitasan Black.
That had been easier to handle.
On the night of the Kikuka Sho, Kitajima Saburō himself had hosted another celebration banquet.
The old man had already indicated that Ōno Shōji would continue supporting Kitasan's training. That night, he made it official—not only would their support continue, but they'd fully back Yasui in any future contracts with other Umamusume.
With such support, all commercial and promotional matters could easily be entrusted to Ōno Shōji.
Yet even so, while the representatives enthusiastically outlined proposals, Yasui's head had begun to ache, his eyelids growing heavier by the minute.
At one point, he'd even thought to himself:
I'd rather run another Kikuka Sho with Kitasan than deal with all these endless social interactions.
Of course, running the Kikuka Sho was just a joke.
But his exhaustion was genuine.
Thus, when Yasui finally woke up on this particular day, comfortably warm under his blankets, his mind felt fuzzy—likely due to lingering effects from the previous night's drinking.
Instinctively, he reached out, fumbling toward his bedside table.
His fingers brushed against the familiar shape, and he lazily pulled his phone toward him, holding it up in front of his eyes.
Unlocking the screen and glancing at the displayed time, his eyes widened in surprise.
"Almost noon already? Did I really sleep that long...? Yaaawn..."
Muttering to himself, he yawned deeply, rubbed his bleary eyes, and slowly sat up.
He swung his legs over the bed, slipping his feet into his slippers, and as he stood up, his stomach loudly rumbled.
As he rubbed his belly, idly thinking, Maybe I should order takeout, he suddenly caught an enticing aroma wafting toward him.
Pausing in confusion, he sniffed the air, realizing it seemed to be coming from the kitchen.
Still half-asleep, Yasui shuffled in the direction of the scent.
When he opened the kitchen door, a familiar figure stood inside.
She wore a simple black knitted sweater paired with a playful red plaid skirt, along with an apron tied around her waist for cooking.
Compared to her usual energetic appearance, the girl still looked lively but with an added touch of domestic warmth and cuteness.
"Kita-chan...? Why are you—oh..."
He mumbled sleepily, rubbing his eyes and yawning again.
"I did give you the key to my place..."
"Oh, Trainer, you're finally awake! Just wait a moment, the omurice will be ready any sec—"
Smiling warmly, Kitasan Black skillfully flipped the rice in the pan as she turned to look at him.
But before she finished speaking, she froze.
A deep crimson blush quickly spread from her cheeks to the tips of her ears, until her entire face turned bright red.
At that exact moment, steam rose from the frying pan, perfectly timed as though she herself had just been cooked.
The next second—
"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!"
The scream that echoed throughout the kitchen hit Yasui like a hammer, his eardrums throbbing painfully, instantly snapping him fully awake.
Stunned for half a second, realization suddenly struck him, and he looked sharply downward.
He was so used to living alone, always drawing the curtains tightly before sleep and never bothering with pajamas.
Thus, at this very moment, he'd walked into the kitchen wearing nothing but his boxer shorts.
Recognizing just how awkward this sudden intimacy was, Yasui uncharacteristically panicked.
"Wait! Kita-chan, don't scream—I can explain!"
Even as he shouted, he instinctively moved to cover his lower half with his hands, quickly turning to retreat to his bedroom and change clothes.
Yet just as he took a step, as though triggered by his movement, Kitasan Black—hands clenched tightly, eyes squeezed shut as she screamed—suddenly sprang into action.
And then, to Yasui's utter shock, the silhouette of a spatula rapidly grew larger before his eyes.
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T/N: r.i.p. yasui makoto... AND SHE GOT THE TRIPLE CROWN??? I THOUGHT SHE LOST THE DERBY??? WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT
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