Chapter 73. Conversation
On September 7th, the new semester at Central Tracen Academy officially began. Although for Uma Musume active in the Twinkle Series, if they wanted to use the summer to level up or accumulate prize money as capital to challenge major races, they would have no true summer vacation, when the new semester finally arrived, there was still an almost imperceptible trace of melancholy lingering in the air, subtle yet difficult to completely ignore.
However, none of this affected Shuta An in the slightest. He simply had no room to spare for such emotions. The target for Mejiro Dober's next race had already been set long in advance, and with only a month and a half remaining, she was about to enter formal training. At the same time, he could not afford to focus solely on her, because preparations for Tokai Teio's next race, the Kyoto Hopeful Stakes, also needed to be advanced steadily, layer by layer, without leaving any gaps.
And beyond all of that, what occupied the deepest part of his attention was still Silence Suzuka's next race.
After winning the International Stakes, the Breeder's Cup organizing committee once again sent an invitation, hoping Silence Suzuka would participate in the Breeders Cup Turf.
Shuta An did not hesitate at all; almost the moment he finished reading it, he sent back a polite refusal, his decision so clean that there was not even the slightest room for reconsideration.
Are you kidding?
Even Miesque, fully aware of Silence Suzuka's distance adaptability limitations, had not gone so far as to extend such an invitation personally. Under those circumstances, there was no way he would allow Suzuka to repeat the same mistake in the final year of her Twinkle Series career, not when the risks were already so clear.
For Shuta An, Silence Suzuka's path had already been determined long ago. There were only two races left.
The Cox Plate, and the Hong Kong Cup.
The former would be held at Moonee Valley Racecourse in Australia at the end of October, a 2000-meter turf G1 race whose prize money alone reached 3 million Australian dollars, roughly equivalent to 290 million yen.
In terms of pure financial reward, it had already surpassed the Tenno Sho (Autumn), and with nearly eighty years of history behind it, the race was not only the opening highlight of Australia's Spring Carnival but also a stage widely known as the "race where legends are born," a reputation that was supported as much by its winners as by the course itself.
More importantly, in Shuta An's judgment, the characteristics of that course aligned almost perfectly with Silence Suzuka.
Moonee Valley Racecourse, with its slightly elongated yet compact layout, had a final straight of only about 173 meters, barely longer than Nagoya Racecourse, and for an Uma Musume capable of executing the Great Escape tactic, such a short finishing stretch carried a meaning that required no further explanation—it was an environment where once the lead was secured, the window for any meaningful counterattack would be compressed to its absolute limit.
"The track advantage is too great," Shuta An thought, his gaze gradually sharpening as the conclusion settled more firmly in his mind. "Not going would be a waste of what that course was designed for."
As for Silence Suzuka's retirement race in the Twinkle Series, that had already been decided two nights ago, the conclusion reached naturally without any need for prolonged discussion.
The Hong Kong Cup.
Upgraded to G1 status just the previous year, with its distance extended to 2000 meters and its name officially changed from the Hong Kong International Cup, the race was now part of the Hong Kong International Races, held on the same day as the Sprint, Mile, and Vase. Behind that promotion, it was widely rumored that there had been support from the mainland, something that could be clearly seen in the changes to the event itself, from the identities of the award presenters to the dramatic increase in prize money.
When Silence Suzuka had participated two years ago, the winner's purse had been approximately 70 million yen. Now, it had risen to roughly equivalent to 225 million yen, a leap so large that it fundamentally changed the weight of the race within the international scene.
"If she can win both,"
Shuta An murmured quietly, the numbers aligning almost instinctively in his mind without the need for deliberate calculation,
"Suzuka's pre-tax income will reach 515 million yen, and at that point, the International Stakes might as well not even be counted."
It was only at this moment that he more deeply understood why so many Trainers and Uma Musume were willing to cross continents to challenge events like Royal Ascot Week or the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe. Compared to those stages, a G1 like the International Stakes, while respectable in name, offered rewards that were clearly disproportionate to its level of difficulty, making it difficult to justify from a purely competitive standpoint.
"This year's Cox Plate will be held on October 24th—five days after the Shuka Sho."
The thought connected naturally with everything else he had been arranging.
"That means I can go in person."
The time difference between Tokyo and Melbourne was only one hour, so small that it could almost be ignored entirely, and precisely because of that, Shuta An had no intention of accompanying Suzuka to Australia ahead of time.
Early training could be managed remotely, and once the Shuka Sho concluded, he could depart that very night, arrive in Melbourne without needing to adjust to jet lag, attend the draw ceremony the following day, complete the final tactical planning with Suzuka, and remain there briefly after the race before returning directly to Japan, where he could immediately transition into preparations for Tokai Teio's Kyoto Hopeful Stakes without any interruption.
"The schedule is tight but there's no waste."
A faint smile appeared as he finished outlining the plan on his workstation, the structure settling into place with a sense of clean precision.
"I'll have Miss Grace handle the bookings."
For now, however, his attention could not remain on that.
It inevitably returned to Mejiro Dober.
And to the matter that still remained unresolved between them.
"Oguri told me everything."
At the thought, Shuta An's expression tightened almost imperceptibly, the lingering ease from before fading as a different kind of pressure quietly surfaced.
There had been no concealment, no hesitation—Oguri Cap had recounted their entire conversation exactly as it was, her honesty so direct that it left no room for ambiguity.
"She really is that kind of person—"
For the past few days, Oguri had stayed at home and had not returned to the Academy. Within their Line group, Mejiro Dober's behavior appeared completely normal, her tone steady, her words composed, showing no obvious signs of disturbance.
But Shuta An understood that such surface calm could not be taken at face value.
Once they met in person, everything would change.
He could already picture it clearly—Dober instinctively creating distance the moment their eyes met, her reaction almost unavoidable given the situation.
If things continued like that, then the Trainer's work itself would become impossible to carry out.
Dober understood this as well, which was why her preparations for the Shuka Sho would likely not be affected in any direct way.
But the problem had never been the Shuka Sho.
That race was not an ending.
It was the beginning.
Once she secured the Triple Crown—especially as an undefeated Triple Crown—everything around her would shift. Her influence would expand, expectations would intensify, and the standards imposed upon her would rise to a level where even the smallest instability could no longer be tolerated, because to dominate a generation was to become its symbol, and a symbol was not allowed to show cracks.
If any issue appeared, it would not remain personal. It would reflect upon the entire generation she represented.
And if he and Mejiro Dober could not communicate openly, then what followed would not be a single misstep, but a chain of consequences that would continue to compound, gradually forming a cycle that would only grow more difficult to break.
Shuta An exhaled slowly, the decision settling firmly in his mind.
He had to resolve it.
And now—this was the best moment.
"I can't ask her to meet outside the Academy—that would only make her suspicious."
His thoughts moved forward without pause.
"It has to be somewhere inside."
After a brief moment, a suitable location surfaced naturally in his mind, fitting both the situation and the constraints without creating unnecessary tension.
Without any further hesitation, Shuta An picked up his phone and sent Mejiro Dober a message on Line.
—
When Teio arrived at the cafeteria, she was surprised to find Symboli Rudolf sitting alone in a corner.
"At this hour, why is Kaichou in the cafeteria?" Tokai Teio felt something was off, precisely because she was so familiar with Symboli Rudolf's usual schedule.
"Your Trainer borrowed the Student Council office from me for the entire afternoon, so I moved out,"
Symboli Rudolf replied after calmly swallowing a piece of carrot.
"As for what he plans to do, I don't know. He only informed me in advance and asked that no one disturb him."
Tokai Teio, who had originally been thinking of dragging Symboli Rudolf along to secretly eavesdrop, could only abandon the idea, her lips puffing slightly.
"Kaichou isn't even worried about what strange things the Trainer might do in the Student Council office."
"There are surveillance cameras in the office. Shuta-kun knows this, and he specifically told me not to turn them off," Symboli Rudolf said, her attention still focused on her lunch.
"Besides, it's only for one afternoon. No matter what, he wouldn't do anything inappropriate there."
Tokai Teio had to admit that made sense. Since Trainer had gone out of his way to mention the cameras, it clearly meant he wasn't planning anything that needed to be hidden—especially not something like a private meeting with Senior Suzuka.
"Then what exactly is he going to do—" The thought lingered, but she couldn't arrive at an answer.
At that moment, Mejiro Dober pushed open the door to the Student Council office.
Her gaze swept across the room out of habit. None of the Student Council members were present. The spacious office felt unusually quiet, with only her Trainer, Shuta An, seated on the sofa, holding a teacup as he slowly sipped iced barley tea.
Mejiro Dober walked over and sat down beside the coffee table, her posture composed, yet she did not speak first. She did not know what this meeting was about, so she chose to wait, leaving the initiative to him.
"What would you like to drink?" Shuta An asked instead, showing no intention of getting straight to the point.
"Honey water, please." Mejiro Dober answered without hesitation. She was familiar with what was usually stocked here—after all, Ramonu-nee was also part of the Student Council.
"Alright."
Shuta An set down his teacup, stood up, and retrieved a bottle of chilled honey water, placing it gently on the table in front of her.
But instead of sitting beside her afterward, he turned and returned to his original seat.
That small, deliberate distance made Mejiro Dober feel a brief sense of relief—yet at the same time, something inside her tightened, leaving behind a faint, unspoken heaviness.
Silence settled over the room once more, broken only by the low hum of the air conditioner.
By the time Shuta An finished his cup of barley tea, the bottle of honey water in front of Mejiro Dober had only been opened. She had yet to take a single sip.
"I chose to meet Dober here because I thought this place would make you feel the most at ease," Shuta An finally said, raising his hand to point toward the ceiling. "I also asked Rudolf not to turn off the surveillance."
However, those words did not bring reassurance.
Instead, they stirred a different kind of discomfort within Mejiro Dober, as if the care he had taken to arrange everything only made the distance between them feel more defined—almost as though he were being cautious of her.
"There's really no need for that."
She finally spoke, her voice steady but faintly restrained.
"I know Trainer isn't interested in me, and that you wouldn't do anything inappropriate. After all, I'm not as talented as the seniors, and I don't even have much experience interacting with the opposite sex. The Trainer has always kept a distance from me."
She lowered her gaze slightly.
"In fact—you never intended to invite me to the Sadalsuud team, did you? If I hadn't asked Ramonu-nee for help back then, the person you favored would have been McQueen, not me right?"
Shuta An found it difficult to respond to the earlier parts, but he couldn't let the last statement stand.
"Why would Miss Dober think that I favored Miss Mejiro McQueen over you?"
"I can tell," Mejiro Dober said quietly, her head still lowered. "When McQueen trains with Teio, the way you look at them—is different from how you look at me."
"Miss Dober," Shuta An said with a faint smile, though his tone remained calm, "you don't even feel comfortable with slightly intimate contact with the opposite sex, yet you're confident you can interpret their gaze?"
He leaned back slightly, continuing without pause.
"No matter how talented Miss Mejiro McQueen is, she belongs to Team Spica. During the summer, I only guided her because Nishizaki-kun asked me to. Whatever results she achieves in the future belong to him."
His gaze shifted, steady and direct. "But Miss Dober is different. Your results are also my results. If you succeed, I will be praised. If you fail, the criticism will fall on me as well."
He leaned forward slightly this time, his voice lowering but becoming more deliberate.
"So inviting you here today isn't about anything else. It's to prevent that outcome—to resolve things before they become a problem."
A brief pause followed, then he continued.
"Let's start with what Oguri talked to you about in York."
"Trainer doesn't need to explain anything to me."
Mejiro Dober shrank back slightly, her voice tightening.
"I have no place to comment on your relationship with Senior Oguri and the others."
"That may be true," Shuta An replied calmly, "but if we don't talk about it now, it will become a problem later. It's better to clear it up while we still can."
"Then what exactly do you want to tell me?"
For the first time, Mejiro Dober raised her head and met his gaze directly.
"Do you want to reassure me that I don't interest you? That you have no intention of becoming part of the Mejiro Family? That you've always treated me as just another Uma Musume?"
Her voice did not rise, but each word carried weight. "Or something else?"
Before Shuta An could answer, she closed her eyes, falling silent, as if waiting for a verdict.
The words he had prepared stopped at his throat. Because at that moment, he saw it—tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.
His instincts told him clearly: if he continued with what he had originally planned to say, then even before the Shuka Sho arrived, he might turn Mejiro Dober into something unstable—something that could collapse at any moment.
His thoughts shifted abruptly.
Then, quietly, he spoke.
"It's like boating on a lake on a clear day—the sky is beautiful, and the water is just as beautiful."
Mejiro Dober opened her eyes slightly, startled.
"If it were Miss Rudolf, Miss Air Groove, or even Miss Ramonu sitting here instead," he continued, his tone calm and even, "I wouldn't bring up Oguri or the others. Because what I feel toward them isn't something I would casually share with outsiders."
The meaning behind those words did not need to be spelled out.
Mejiro Dober understood.
Her gaze wavered as she looked at the man before her, uncertain whether what she had grasped truly aligned with what he intended, and for a moment, she did not know whether she should respond.
Shuta An did not look away.
"I understand the responsibilities you carry," he said steadily. "And until you're willing to trust me completely, I will continue to fulfill my role as your Trainer the same with others."
He paused briefly, then added—
"But at least within the Twinkle Series, I hope you can continue to trust me."
A quiet moment passed.
Then Mejiro Dober slowly reached out her hand.
Shuta An accepted it without hesitation.
"I will," she said softly.