Kitahara didn't even have time to say anything to the person on the other end of the phone before the video call was cut off.
Staring at the pitch-black screen reflecting his own face, he froze for a moment, then couldn't help but let out a bitter smile.
Seriously, what is Uncle Roppei doing? How can he just disappear like that…?
But then it struck him—hadn't he just said that things had escalated to the point where even the chairwoman had shown up…?
Kitahara's spirits instantly lifted.
In Japan, Musaka Ginjiro was unquestionably among the most senior trainers still active.
Not only was he highly regarded in domestic racing circles, he had also gone abroad during his career to study and participate in races, earning him considerable international recognition as well.
That was precisely why, when he went to the United States, he had been warmly received there—and by the school itself, namely the Federal Tracen Academy, where the Secretariat served as chairwoman.
Seen this way, the "chairwoman" mentioned in that phone call could only be that horse girl.
And because of that, Kitahara couldn't help but let his imagination run—perhaps, in a moment, he could ask his uncle to take advantage of this opportunity and let him seek some advice from her.
He had indeed considered before that such a thing might be troublesome, but now that the opportunity was right in front of him, it would be a shame to let it slip by.
With that thought in mind, Kitahara almost reflexively wanted to call back immediately.
Fortunately, he forced himself to calm down. Figuring that the other side was probably in the middle of a conversation and that calling back now would be rude, he managed to restrain himself and patiently waited for a reply.
The wait was still somewhat agonizing, but after only ten-odd minutes, the phone rang with the notification of an incoming video call.
He hurriedly accepted it, and just as he was about to voice his thoughts, Roppei Ginjiro's voice came through—sounding like a mix of complaint and praise.
"I really don't know what's so good about you, kid. I just happened to mention you to the chairwoman, and she actually showed a lot of interest—she even took the initiative to ask about you."
"Took the initiative… Uncle Roppei, are you saying the Secretariat herself…?"
Kitahara was instantly incredulous. If his uncle meant what he thought he meant, it was far too unexpected.
After all, that was the United States—far from Japan, with its own URA race series.
As the chairwoman of the U.S. Tracen Academy, the Secretariat should normally be focused on academy affairs. For her to suddenly take an interest in someone like him, far away in Japan, sounded strange at first glance.
But his thoughts quickly shifted, and he tentatively probed:
"Hey, Uncle Roppei… you didn't deliberately—"
"Call me Musaka! What do you mean, 'Uncle Roppei'?!"
Apparently having shaken off the frustration brought on by Sunday Silence earlier, Musaka Ginjiro's retort was as forceful as ever.
Naturally, Kitahara brushed it off as usual with a "Got it, Uncle Roppei," then immediately pressed on.
"So, did you deliberately bring me up to the chairwoman?"
He asked, puzzled. "It just feels like, with her being so far away in the U.S., unless you intentionally mentioned me—"
"You're overthinking it. And don't call me Uncle Roppei!"
After correcting him once more, Musaka Ginjiro clicked his tongue and stopped dwelling on the matter of titles, his expression suddenly turning serious.
"To be precise, this time I didn't deliberately mention you."
"Not this time? Then that means before…?" Kitahara mused.
"Mm. I have talked about you with the chairwoman before—but even then, it was always her who brought you up first."
Musaka Ginjiro nodded. "So you could say I never deliberately mentioned you at all."
"Then what did she bring up? I mean, what did you two talk about?"
Kitahara's interest was immediately piqued, to the point that he even forgot about honorifics for a moment.
"We talked about the Japanese Derby."
Musaka Ginjiro said in a deep voice. "After that race—on the very next day, actually, the day after you called me—the chairwoman sought me out and had a brief chat about you, Oguri Cap, and the Eisei Team."
"I think it was your team's performance that caught her attention."
"That's not really surprising. Even though Japan's overall racing level isn't world-class, the Japanese Derby is still a major, well-known event."
"Your team's results have always been excellent, and most importantly…"
He paused slightly. On the video screen, Musaka Ginjiro rubbed his chin and glanced off to the side, as if looking into the distance.
"What really interests her seems to be your team's training methods and philosophy."
"Especially after you went to Europe and took part in that Epsom exchange race—she's brought you up much more often since then."
"Naturally, the topic has always been your training, and this time is no exception."
"I see. Then that makes sense."
Kitahara nodded in understanding.
What Musala Ginjiro said was correct. In horse-girl racing, the gap between Japan and the rest of the world was plainly visible.
This wasn't just a gap between individual horse girls, but a difference in entire training systems—the ideas and theories behind them.
From what Kitahara had learned from his uncle, many training methods used in Japan had long been applied in the United States at a fairly advanced level.
Although there were differences across disciplines, in many areas the U.S. was clearly ahead—and, more importantly, those methods were far more widely adopted.
Only a team like Eisei could match them in many respects, and that was the result of years of uncompromising investment since the team's founding.
For instance, many of the devices and training methods Eisei currently used were unique to them; other trainers and horse girls outside the team had virtually no access to such things.
The reason a horse girl like the Secretariat would pay attention, then, was likely because in a country where the overall level was clearly lagging behind, Kitahara's team alone stood out as being far ahead.
If that edge had only shown in domestic Japanese races, it might have been one thing—but even in the Epsom exchange race, despite not winning, the level they displayed revealed plenty.
Given the Secretariat's ability, experience, and insight, noticing this would hardly be difficult.
And once she noticed such a clear disparity, it was only natural that curiosity and interest would arise, leading her to ask his uncle about him.
Arriving at this conclusion didn't take long, and because of it, Kitahara was no longer surprised—in fact, it almost felt inevitable.
After all, people who spent a long time with him—Yuzuhara, Komiyama, and the others on the team—had grown accustomed to his ideas and methods. The same went for Akikawa Yayoi, Symboli Rudolf, and Maruzensky.
His uncle, too, felt little doubt due to their familial relationship.
But from the Secretariat's perspective—someone who knew nothing about him—suddenly discovering such a distinctive team in Japan would naturally spark curiosity.
"…And you figured that out just like that?"
Seeing Kitahara's reaction, Musaka Ginjiro was momentarily surprised before quickly calming down.
"Figures. You've grown sharper lately—there's a lot I don't need to worry about anymore."
Hearing this old-man-like remark, Kitahara instinctively prepared to retort, but Musaka Ginjiro didn't give him the chance and continued directly:
"But there's something you need to pay attention to."
On the phone screen, Musaka Ginjiro's expression suddenly turned solemn.
"If it's that horse girl, she should be able to withstand even stronger impact without any problem… but there's no need to waste stamina like that either. It all depends on how you arrange things."
"That's what she suddenly said when we were talking about the Meitetsu Cup just now."
"That was the Secretariat's comment?"
Kitahara grew serious as well, and immediately made the connection that, since this was said in the context of discussing the Meitetsu Cup, it was probably closely related to the race.
Taken at face value, the Secretariat was likely referring to Oguri Cap, since she was the one competing in the Meitetsu Cup.
Oguri Cap's physical constitution was indeed very strong. If "stronger impact" referred to instantaneous sprint speed or the greater forces generated by a more aggressive approach on uphills and downhills, then Oguri Cap could certainly handle it.
Logically speaking, however, this kind of race concept was completely different from the team's usual approach, and there was indeed no need to waste stamina.
For example, in terms of handling slopes, the team had been training related techniques for a long time. Racing with those techniques could save a considerable amount of energy for later segments.
Especially since the Chukyo Racecourse, where the Meitetsu Cup was held, featured steep ups and downs as well as long slopes, such stamina conservation was particularly important.
So, did that mean the Secretariat's remark didn't really offer any concrete guidance?
By the time his analysis reached that point, Kitahara suddenly froze.
As he pondered on his end, Musaka Ginjiro clearly noticed and remained silent.
Likewise, seeing the baffled look on his nephew's face, the experienced old trainer could roughly guess what he was thinking.
"I'm guessing you're thinking the same thing I am—that this counts as the chairwoman giving advice about the race."
Musaka Ginjiro's voice softened considerably, carrying a hint of reassurance.
"Given her talent, achievements, and race experience, anything she says about a race is naturally worth paying attention to."
"But you've probably realized that this advice is based on her own racing experience, and may not necessarily be suitable for you, Oguri Cap, or your other horse girls."
"You've trained and competed together for a long time. Your style has already stabilized. Making rash changes might not be a good thing."
"Besides, there's nothing wrong with your original plan. In that case, just proceed according to it."
As he continued, the tone from the phone became even gentler.
"As for Oguri Cap's feelings… sigh, I'm a trainer too. I understand very well that you want to fulfill your horse girl's wishes while ensuring the best chance of victory."
"But sometimes, things don't go exactly as one hopes."
"Adjust your mindset and face tomorrow's race."
By the end, the concern, comfort, and persuasion in Musaka Ginjiro's words were unmistakable.
"Don't let this affect your race condition, and don't let it affect Oguri Cap and the others."
"Horse girls are very sensitive. If you're overly worried about this, they'll feel it—and they'll worry too."
If his uncle hadn't reminded him so explicitly, Kitahara might really have ended up dwelling on it.
Since becoming a trainer, he knew that most of the time he focused too much on training and racing, often neglecting some of the everyday details of Oguri Cap and the others.
That very issue had just been brought to light with Yuzuhara before he made the call.
And even before fully recognizing it, he had vaguely sensed it himself. Perhaps that was why, on a subconscious level, he felt such a strong urge to do everything he could to fulfill his horse girl's wishes when she expressed them.
Maybe it was a sense of guilt—at least, that's what Kitahara thought.
But after his uncle's reminder, he quickly sorted out his emotions and quietly formed a plan.
After chatting a bit longer with his uncle about recent life, training, and races, they ended the call.
The two calls, plus the waiting time in between, weren't particularly long—but they just happened to be enough for the women on the other side to finish bathing.
This bathhouse was one that White Narubi and Oguri Cap frequented often. The owner was very warm and well aware of Oguri Cap's appetite.
So once the group was done with the hot springs, the proprietor quickly arranged a lavish dinner.
Unlike the Western-style meals at the resort estate, dinner here consisted entirely of traditional Japanese cuisine—not only delicious, but, more importantly, unlimited for all the horse girls.
This suited the team's tastes perfectly. Even Maruzensky, who had British roots, praised it highly after trying it and dug in with gusto.
During the meal, Kitahara didn't hide anything. Using the relaxed atmosphere of casual conversation, he straightforwardly explained White Narubi's earlier request and his discussion with his uncle.
Naturally, he also mentioned the Secretariat's offhand suggestion.
He felt he knew himself well—matters like this were inseparable from his work.
With such lingering doubts in his mind, it would be hard not to show worry in his words or actions, which would definitely affect Oguri Cap and the others.
In that case, it was better to lay everything out from the start—it actually made things much easier.
Just as Kitahara finished speaking, Oguri Cap, who had been continuously grabbing sushi from the table, suddenly froze.
"U-um… I'm sorry, Kitahara. Because of my selfishness, you had to think about so many things…"
She murmured blankly, lowering her head to look at the sushi in both hands, her face clearly saying, "These sushi don't taste so good anymore…"
Seeing his horse girl suddenly become dejected, Kitahara instead felt a sense of relief.
Because he'd already thought it through—if he kept these matters bottled up, his own behavior might have turned out even worse.
So saying it out loud was better. This, too, was part of communication.
With that thought, he couldn't help but smile and reached out to gently pat Oguri Cap's head.
"How could you say that? If anything, I should be the one apologizing."
He spoke softly. "Ms. White Narubi was right—I'm usually too serious and rigid. Whether it's thoughts like yours, or those of Creek and Ardan, I haven't really talked properly with any of you."
"Thanks to this incident, I was able to feel what you were thinking, so I believe it's worth putting in the effort for things like this."
"It's just that, because of it, I couldn't follow your advice to rest well today."
He laughed self-deprecatingly. "After all, making phone calls counts as work too. Looks like I really can't stay idle."
"Mm… that's also because of me, but…"
Shaking her head, Oguri Cap said thoughtfully, "Since we're already talking about work—about the race, I mean—then let's talk properly."
"From what you said, the horse girl who gave that advice is really amazing. Maybe if everyone thinks it through together, we might discover something new."
Once the topic turned to racing, driven by their innate love of running, even the other horse girls grew interested, despite being in rest mode.
Maruzensky in particular—being the vice president of the Tracen Academy student council, with many relatives and friends in the UK—was more familiar with international matters and better understood the Secretariat's strength.
"Oguri Cap is right. If advice came from the Secretariat, it's definitely worth thinking about carefully."
She pondered for a moment, her expression gradually becoming serious.
"And I just took a quick look at tomorrow's weather."
"I originally just wanted to see whether the weather would be good—whether it'd be suitable for speeding."
"But it turns out that, according to the forecast, there'll be heavy rain tomorrow."
"In that case, Oguri Cap's race plan might need to bring out the contingency plan for heavy track conditions."
(End of Chapter)