The next day.
May 13, Tokyo Racecourse.
The sky was a little overcast today, layer upon layer of clouds blocking out the sun.
But the cloudy weather didn't feel oppressive at all. If anything, with the breeze brushing through, it brought a rare hint of coolness to the sweltering trackside air.
The Yasuda Kinen, a key stop on the spring Mile circuit.
And at the same time, a race featuring both the "strongest active" Fujimasa March and the "ash-gray monster" Oguri Cap.
The buzz around it even surpassed other G1 races.
It was, in every sense, the center of everyone's attention.
From a high vantage, the entire racecourse was packed wall to wall. Tens of thousands of spectators crammed the stands until there was barely room to breathe.
The air was saturated with noise that sent adrenaline spiking.
Everyone was waiting for this showdown.
And outside the competitors' preparation area…
There was a small figure following behind Kuroha.
"Bourbon, stay close. Don't get separated by the crowd," Kuroha said, turning back to remind her.
"Yes, Master."
A cute, doll-like girl with long brown hair in the Central Tracen Academy uniform nodded expressionlessly.
It was Mihono Bourbon.
Ever since joining Kuroha's Lingguang team, this girl—robotic in a way that felt almost literal—would do her daily, punishing training without fail.
And whenever she had free time, she would trail behind Kuroha like a little tail.
If she could make it, she would follow him to watch most races.
Given this cyber-loli's frightening ability to learn and execute, Kuroha had also started intentionally bringing her to observe races of all types and distances—filling out her knowledge early and cultivating her race sense.
Tailoring the teaching to the student was the only hard truth that mattered.
After sending Fujimasa March into the competitors' tunnel and keeping Bourbon in mind, Kuroha had originally planned to take her straight up to the top-level stands to watch.
However, as he passed a somewhat secluded corner of the general seating, he paused.
A familiar figure was sitting there.
Kuroha considered it for a moment, then walked over with Bourbon.
…
Tokyo Racecourse, a slightly out-of-the-way section of the stands.
Ginjirou Musaka was sitting there alone.
The familiar face that was usually with him after Oguri Cap's races was nowhere to be seen today.
Listening to the surrounding excitement and uproar, Ginjirou Musaka only found it noisy.
"Yeah… I guess nobody can be happy when they know they're about to lose," the old man said with a helpless shake of his head.
After all his years coaching, this was the first time he could already feel his defeat before the race even started.
"How can there be a trainer this unreasonable…?"
In Ginjirou Musaka's mind, a far-too-young figure surfaced. The hand gripping his cane tightened slightly.
It wasn't just beyond him by one dimension.
It was dozens of dimensions.
Even if he lived another hundred years, he probably still wouldn't catch up to results like that…
"Ginjirou-senpai, why are you sitting here alone? Where's Light?"
A familiar voice sounded from behind, startling Ginjirou Musaka so badly he practically jolted upright.
"…Kuroha."
Ginjirou Musaka turned around and let out a long breath. "You nearly scared the life out of me. I'm old. I can't take that kind of shock."
"Haha, sorry, sorry."
"…Light went to buy drinks. As for me… hmph. I'm waiting for a bastard."
"A bastard?" Kuroha raised an eyebrow.
"Talking behind someone's back isn't very becoming, Ginjirou."
A cool, steady middle-aged man's voice suddenly sounded behind them, making Ginjirou Musaka jolt upright a second time.
Kuroha turned.
A middle-aged man in a perfectly pressed suit was walking toward them, face stern, hair neatly combed without a strand out of place.
He was Naise Hideto's father—and also Central Tracen's famed "racecourse magician," Naise Hideto (Senior).
Ignoring Ginjirou Musaka's sour expression, he walked straight up to Kuroha and extended a hand. His tone was calm as ever, but the respect within it was unmistakably sincere.
"Trainer Kuroha. I've heard a great deal about you."
"Likewise, Hideto-senpai," Kuroha said with a smile, reaching out to shake his hand.
Their hands met and separated at once.
Naise Hideto (Senior) didn't keep his gaze on Kuroha for long. Very quickly, his eyes shifted to the small girl standing quietly beside him.
"And this is… Lingguang's next generation?"
He sized up Bourbon, a sharp, appraising light flickering in his eyes.
"Yes. Bourbon is indeed one of the new generation I value highly," Kuroha admitted openly.
"Mihono Bourbon…"
Naise Hideto (Senior) nodded expressionlessly, as though thinking something over.
"Mm? Hideto-senpai, you know Bourbon's full name?" Kuroha asked, surprised.
He hadn't introduced her yet.
While Mihono Bourbon was destined to shake the entire era in the future, right now she was still just an un-debuted young horse girl.
Naise Hideto (Senior) didn't answer immediately. Instead, he sat down in the empty seat next to Ginjirou Musaka.
The muscle at the corner of his mouth twitched, forming a "smile" that looked like he understood everything and nothing at the same time.
"I keep files on any promising young horse girls in Central Tracen's Junior Division," he replied in a flat tone.
Then he paused, raised his head, and looked at Kuroha with genuine seriousness.
"And as for training skill and understanding of horse girls, Trainer Kuroha, you are far above me. In that field, the one who is advanced is the teacher."
"So I can't accept 'senpai.' Call me by my title, or simply by my name."
As a trainer who had fought overseas, his thinking wasn't bound by the domestic habit of rigid seniority.
He believed far more in the principle that mastery earned deference.
"…"
Kuroha blinked.
This man… looked stern, but was unexpectedly straightforward.
"Then… Trainer Hideto?" Kuroha tried.
Though calling him that felt like it might get confusing later if he ever ended up with Fumino…
Kuroha sighed internally, meeting Hideto's eyes head-on.
Bourbon also sat down obediently right up against Kuroha, those calm, unblinking eyes quietly observing the two unfamiliar trainers.
"Judging by Mihono Bourbon's muscle type and running style…"
The moment he sat down, Hideto spoke again, his gaze keen as a blade as he looked at Kuroha.
"Trainer Kuroha, you're planning to raise her as a short-distance Front Runner, correct?"
"And with McQueen on your team for Long, plus Tokai Teio who can adapt to Medium…"
"It's a very strong-looking new generation lineup, with excellent coverage."
Kuroha wasn't surprised Hideto knew that much.
Basic physical metrics and distance suitability were all recorded in Central Tracen's junior archives. Any experienced trainer who bothered to look could pull them.
Hearing Hideto's analysis, Mihono Bourbon—who usually looked like an exquisitely crafted doll—finally showed the faintest ripple of emotion on her blank face.
She seemed like she wanted to say something, but after glancing at Kuroha, she pressed her lips shut and returned to deeper silence.
"Master said: in front of outsiders, talk less, observe more."
The cyber-horse girl executed that instruction with absolute seriousness.
Kuroha looked at how obedient she was and couldn't help smiling. He reached out and gently rubbed the top of her head, as if soothing her.
Then he turned back to Hideto and spoke calmly.
"Short and Mile, yes. If we judge purely by aptitude, that's the conclusion."
…
"But my current plan and training direction for Bourbon…"
Kuroha raised three fingers.
"Is the Classic Triple Crown. And not just running it—winning it."
"…"
The air seemed to freeze for a full second.
Hideto's eyes—usually still as an ancient well—flashed with unmistakable shock.
He looked deeply at Kuroha, then at Mihono Bourbon beside him.
The Triple Crown?
That included the 3000-meter Kikuka Sho, an ultra-long distance.
Making a Short/Mile horse girl run Long?
If anyone else said this, Hideto would probably scoff and walk away with a single "delusion."
But the one saying it was Kuroha.
After a long pause, Hideto didn't refute him. He simply gave Kuroha a silent look, then nodded slightly and withdrew his gaze.
"I see… you have your own unique thinking."
"If it's you, perhaps you really can see something different."
That strange trust finally pushed Ginjirou Musaka over the edge.
"Hey! Hideto, you bastard!"
The old man slammed his cane once. "Don't go buttering Kuroha up like that!"
"How come you're always throwing cold sarcasm at me, huh?!"
"I'm not worth even a little respect?!"
Hideto glanced at his old friend, genuinely puzzled. "I believe I'm fairly respectful to you."
"Respect my ass!" Ginjirou Musaka's forehead veins practically bulged.
…
Watching Ginjirou Musaka and Hideto start bickering, Kuroha could only smile helplessly.
"It's been a while since I sat down in the regular stands. This is… its own kind of atmosphere," he said quietly.
As more and more seats around them filled, Kuroha took in a breath of fresher air and looked down toward the track.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Tokyo Racecourse. Today's tenth race—our highly anticipated Yasuda Kinen!"
The announcer's voice rang out, pulling open the prologue to the spring Mile King showdown.
(End of Chapter)
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