Oguri Cap's examination results arrived sooner than expected.
"Japan's sports science may still lag behind, but this level of testing is acceptable. No mistakes," Dr. Grace concluded after skimming the reports. "In that case, the treatment plan and rehabilitation program I prepared beforehand can proceed as-is."
"I'll leave it to you," Shuta An replied. He knew far too well that this wasn't an area where an amateur should intervene.
"Recovery hasn't begun yet, so I can't give a precise timeline," Dr. Grace added with a shrug. "So, Shuta, don't expect any promises about time. The only guarantee I can make is this: once healed, Miss Oguri Cap will return to her pre-injury condition. Suspensory desmitis won't hinder her future on the track."
"I understand," Shuta An said. "I'll leave everything to you. I'll use the time to research outside investments."
"Investments?" Dr. Grace's eyes narrowed slightly. "Before that, why don't you visit the Student Council? Get a grasp of the current situation in America. Otherwise, you'll trip somewhere unnecessary. And—I believe she has plenty to say to you."
"I'll take that advice," he answered without hesitation.
To him, Dr. Grace's suggestion clearly wasn't her own initiative. It smelled like Secretariat's instruction. But that didn't matter. He had no intention of offending either of them—they were on the same side, after all, and this was their territory.
Leaving the research institute, Shuta An promptly scheduled a meeting with Miss Secretariat for the afternoon. The reply came almost instantly: "OK."
During lunch, Oguri Cap and Berno Light both noticed how uncharacteristically tense he seemed.
"You're meeting Miss Secretariat, aren't you?" the two Uma Musume asked at the same time.
"That's right," Shuta An admitted. "I've already set the time. I can't keep avoiding her forever."
"Do you want me to come with you?" Oguri Cap asked quietly.
"No need." He waved the thought away. "You and Berno should rest. I'll go alone. At worst, she'll mock me a bit."
"Even so, I don't like hearing it," Berno muttered. "I hate it when Ann gets treated like that."
"It's fine. I've been teased by her—and other seniors—since I was a kid. None of it was malicious." His tone was calm, almost dismissive. "Besides… who knows? Maybe she'll tear up the moment she sees me."
Both Oguri Cap and Berno Light instantly thought: Not a chance.
At 2 PM, Shuta An stood before the door of the West Coast Tracen Academy's Student Council office. After knocking, a long-unheard, familiar voice called out:
"Please come in."
He pushed the door open. The first thing he saw was Miss Secretariat's back.
"Long time no see," she said without turning around.
Shuta An didn't answer immediately. Instead, he sat down on the sofa, adjusted his clothes, and replied slowly:
"I only saw your back."
"Heh. You really haven't changed." Miss Secretariat lightly tapped her toe against the ground. Her chair spun, and when their eyes met, she narrowed her gaze. "Does this count as 'long time no see' for you?"
"It has been a while since I saw Miss Secretariat," he said. "But I'm guessing you've seen plenty of me in the media lately."
"Heh." She neither confirmed nor denied it. "If your Uma Musume hadn't gotten injured, would you have ever come to the West Coast?"
"Not necessarily," Shuta An countered—to her visible surprise. "If she had dirt-track potential, I would have come to America anyway, to challenge the American Triple Crown."
"To challenge the American Triple Crown? This isn't France." Miss Secretariat eyed him as if he were dreaming. "Even if there aren't standout Uma Musume on the West Coast this year, talent always emerges elsewhere. America doesn't have weak generations. The 'talent drought' that happened in France last year simply doesn't happen here."
"Is that so?" Shuta An's tone carried neither agreement nor denial. "But if I have a shot, I'll take it. Whether the Classic Race generation in America is strong or not has nothing to do with it. If the Uma Musume I train has dirt aptitude, I'll bring her to try."
"Like how you took Oguri Cap to France? Will you still take the ones you train to Europe in the future?" she pressed.
"Probably not." He shook his head. "If Japan hadn't refused Oguri entry into their Classic Race, I wouldn't have gone to France."
But then he paused—realizing something.
"It seems you know a lot about what I've been doing in Japan."
"Is that a problem?" Miss Secretariat replied coolly. "It's not wrong for a senior to care about a junior, is it?"
"Of course not." He almost added, 'It would've been nice if you cared that much before I left,' but he swallowed the thought.
He continued instead, "The main reason I came is courtesy. And I want to understand how the Academy has changed over the past two years. Also do you have any investment advice?"
"Need to earn money to support your family?" she asked sharply. "Or are you—never mind."
She dismissed the thought with a shake of her head.
"What you do has nothing to do with me. The Academy hasn't changed much. We train Uma Musume the same way, though I have more influence in construction decisions now. Oguri Cap already has a place to live here. As for investments…I own a house. Want to buy it?"
"Oh?" Shuta An raised a brow.
But once she gave the address, his expression stiffened—because it was the very house he had once sold in his hometown.
"Never mind. It's meaningless now," he said with a shake of his head.
Miss Secretariat's eyes darkened faintly.
"Once Oguri recovers, I'll return to Japan with them."
"You think I'd use my authority to keep you here?" she asked.
"Then I'd immediately call reporters and expose that I'm being persecuted," he said flatly. "You know you can't keep me—as long as those bastards are still on the West Coast."
"You may leave." Miss Secretariat fell silent for a moment, then waved him off. "I look forward to the day you win the American Classic Race with the Uma Musume you've trained."
"I'll take your auspicious words," Shuta An replied, rising to depart.
Only after the door closed did Miss Secretariat whisper to the empty room:
"If you can achieve that—I'll finally have the confidence to propose replacing them."
For the next several days, Shuta An's life settled into a quiet rhythm.
By day, he commuted between the temporary apartment and the research institute; by night, he stayed home to assist Oguri Cap through her early-stage rehabilitation. His schedule was monotonous yet strangely grounding.
And meanwhile—in the Dream World, Shuta An had also arrived in America.
The reason for his presence there was peculiar, even by Dream World standards. He had been brought over by none other than Yoshida Zenya, head of Shadai Farm.
It began on New Year's Day.
The real-world Shuta An, preparing for his America trip, was staying at Ritto Training Center. Coincidentally, the Dream World's Oguri Cap had also been diagnosed with suspensory ligamentitis around that time. With nothing urgent to handle, the Shuta An of that world wandered aimlessly through the silent Ritto Training Center grounds.
He had just reached Dicta Striker's stable when Assistant Ikee hurried toward him.
"Shuta-kun! Come back with me—someone's here for you!"
"Huh?" Shuta blinked in genuine surprise.
It was New Year's Day—no races, no training, and several days before the next race. Logically, no one should be looking for him. He had practically no personal social life in this world. He didn't go drinking with the other young jockeys at Gion, and his circle of close friends was essentially nonexistent.
Because of this, Assistant Ikee had once told him that his peers secretly called him strange nicknames like "Lone Wolf of Tokai."
The only blessing was that the press hadn't caught wind of it. If a race commentator were to shout that nickname during a victory celebration—Shuta could feel the secondhand embarrassment crush his soul.
"I hope the person looking for me isn't here for something troublesome" he muttered while following Assistant Ikee.
When he reached the entrance of Trainer Setoguchi's stable, he finally saw the visitor waiting for him.
"Shuta-kun, it's been a while," Yoshida Zenya greeted him with a warm smile. The owner of Shadai Farm, holder of the 'Dyna' prefix, and representative of Shadai Racehorse Club—one of the biggest names in the industry. "The last time you accepted a ride from me was half a year ago, wasn't it?"
"My apologies. I've had to prioritize Oguri's scheduling, so I've had to decline many invitations." Shuta scratched his cheek, sounding a little embarrassed.
"It can't be helped. Though it's unfortunate that I couldn't have you as Dicta Striker's main jockey because of Oguri Cap, our club will still seek your help if we have promising horses in the future," Yoshida said kindly.
"In that case, if I'm free, I'll prioritize Mr. Yoshida's requests," Shuta replied earnestly.
Once the pleasantries were over, Yoshida Zenya revealed his purpose.
"Shuta-kun, I came here today specifically for you. I heard from Trainer Setoguchi that you have a sharp eye for evaluating horses. I'm planning a trip to America to acquire stallions and broodmares. I'd like to invite you, along with a few colleagues, to advise me."
Shuta immediately shook his head.
"I'm not very knowledgeable about stallions and broodmares. I'm a jockey—I only understand racehorses."
But Yoshida had expected this and smoothly continued:
"I've considered that. Since this trip will involve long-term inspections, you won't need to be with us constantly. Oguri Cap won't be racing for the first half of the year, so—would Shuta-kun be interested in getting a short-term license for riding exchanges in America? I can help arrange riding invitations."
"Short-term jockey exchange in America?" The suggestion struck him deeply.
Oguri Cap was resting for months. He had no other main mounts. Teio at Nagahama Ranch wouldn't need him until the latter half of the year. In truth, he had nothing to do.
After thinking it through, Shuta nodded.
"Since Mr. Yoshida has arranged everything so well; refusing would be rude. I have no race commitments for the upcoming months. The only major event I need to be present for, the Tokai Derby, is in early June this year. I only need to return for that."
"Excellent. I'll take care of the paperwork—Shuta-kun just needs to pack," Yoshida said confidently. "Then I'll be depending on you once we're in America."
"I'll do my best. Whether helping with evaluations or racing, I won't let you down," Shuta promised.
And so, sometime later, Shuta An arrived in the United States as a short-term exchange jockey.
At this point in history, Japan was still considered inferior in horse racing. That stereotype followed him. Other than the mounts arranged by Yoshida Zenya, he received almost no riding invitations.
His debut race would take place at Santa Anita Park.
For an ordinary local jockey from Japan, Santa Anita's unique course would require on-site observation and several races to adapt. But Shuta An had studied at West Coast Tracen Academy. To him, Santa Anita's course felt more familiar than Kokura or Niigata—tracks Oguri had never challenged.
'If I do well here, I should get more invitations. And if I draw attention, it'll help Mr. Yoshida as well'
Having been given the opportunity, Shuta wanted to repay the favor.
But reality was harsh.
After his first day of riding at Santa Anita, he returned to the hotel, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"Tsk…American jockeys really are stronger than Japanese ones…" he muttered.
Yet the moment he walked into the lobby, Yoshida Zenya and the accompanying experts greeted him with applause.
"Shuta-kun, that was incredible!" Yoshida exclaimed. "You rode four races today, all on the least popular horses, yet you secured two second places and one fifth! You stunned my American colleagues. Judging by their reactions, you'll be getting far more invitations!"
"…"
Shuta was completely speechless.