I decided that a lecture was better than an explosion. Urara nodded, her ears still pinned back.
As her Trainer, I probably should have been furious about the ruined schedule. But looking at her—at how quickly she realized she'd messed up and how sincerely she apologized—I couldn't stay mad.
If I were a veteran Trainer, I'd probably be firm here... God, I'm a softie. This is bad, I thought.
In my "total" years of life, she was young enough to be my daughter. If she'd been bratty about it, I would have lost my temper. But since she was so honest, I just reached out and gave her head a messy rub.
"I was going to say we should head back to the Academy, but... everyone needs a break sometimes. Let's call it a day."
I'd been pushing her hard for six weeks. Rest is just as important as running, and I realized this was a good chance to build some rapport. I needed to know more about who Haru Urara really was outside of her stats.
"...Really?" she asked timidly. She looked so scared of being scolded that I couldn't help but chuckle.
"I'm not in the mood for a formal session anyway. You seem to know this place pretty well. Why don't you show me around?"
"...! Yeah! Leave it to me!"
Her mood flipped instantly. She beamed at me, and when I ruffled her hair again, she let out a happy little "Wakyah!" Her tail began to wag like a propeller.
"I really am sorry, Trainer-lad. Here, it's not much of an apology, but take this."
The greengrocer handed me a plastic bag stuffed to the brim with carrots, bell peppers, and onions.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course! Thanks to Urara-chan, I sold more veg in an hour than I usually do all afternoon."
Urara peered into the bag and cheered. "Whoa! So many carrots! Thanks, mister!"
"You're the one who helped me. Eat up, okay?"
"I will! But I don't want to eat the peppers! They're icky!"
"...They're actually quite good," the shopkeeper muttered with a distant look.
The surrounding customers laughed. And in that moment, I had an idea.
"Urara, I've decided that you still need a punishment for being late."
"Eh? A p-punishment?" She tilted her head, confused by my sudden smirk.
"Since we got these peppers, I'm going to cook something with them. And your punishment is that you have to eat every single bite!"
I hardened my heart and made the declaration.
"No way! Anything but that, Trainer! I want carrots! I want carrot hamburg steaks!"
"Don't be so mean to the peppers... the shopkeeper is getting depressed. Besides, they're nutritious."
She wailed like a child—which, given her palate, she basically was. Bitter things were her mortal enemy.
"Fine. I'll make carrot hamburg steaks... with peppers mixed in. And tomorrow, we go back to training with 100% energy. Deal?"
It was a compromise. I'd give her what she wanted, but I was going to hide the "punishment" inside the meal.
I wasn't a world-class chef, but Tracen Trainers have to study nutrition as part of their certification. I'd picked up some decent cooking skills along the way. We headed back to the Academy to use one of the practice kitchens. My apartment was close, but even as her Trainer, taking a student home with me would have raised far too many eyebrows.
I called the dorm to let Fuji Kiseki know Urara was safe, then let the girl lead me through the shopping district. It was eye-opening. Everywhere we went, people waved and called out to her. She wasn't even a debut athlete yet, and she already had a fan club. It was impressive, but it added a new weight to my shoulders. I had a responsibility to make sure her performance eventually matched her popularity.
A brief aside: physically, Horse Girls look like beautiful young women, ears and tails notwithstanding. But there is one area where they are fundamentally different from humans: their metabolism.
They eat. A lot.
Some Horse Girls are rumored to eat enough to bankrupt a buffet. Even Urara, who was small for her kind, could out-eat me any day of the week.
Which leads us to...
"Order up! One special triple-decker Carrot Hamburg!"
I placed a plate in front of her that held a literal mountain of meat.
"Woooow! You did it! Carrot hamburgs! Trainer, you're the best!"
"I know, I know. But I'll ask again... are you sure you can finish that?"
The dish was a monstrous sight. The bottom patty was the size of a large frying pan—about 30 centimeters across. The second layer was slightly smaller, maybe 20 centimeters. The top patty was about 15 centimeters wide, and the whole thing was skewered by a single, perfectly peeled whole boiled carrot. The stack was nearly ten centimeters thick, and I'd had to cook it with extreme care to make sure the center wasn't raw.
It came with a mountain of salad and a bowl of rice so large it looked like a volcanic peak. Honestly, just looking at it made me feel full.
"Totally! Thanks for the food!"
Urara clapped her hands together and dove in with a knife and fork. She took a massive bite, her eyes practically emitting light.
"This is so good, Trainer! And the peppers aren't even bitter! How?!"
"If you wrap them in plastic and microwave them first, it pulls the bitterness out. Plus, if you slice them vertically along the fibers, the flavor stays mild. Easy to eat, right?"
"Yeah! I could eat a million of these!"
She continued eating with a radiant smile. Watching her, I realized that even if she didn't win a single race, seeing this smile was almost enough.
"...Think you'll be ready to work hard tomorrow?" I asked softly.
Urara nodded vigorously, her cheeks stuffed like a squirrel's.
(For the record, she finished the entire thing and had two refills of rice. I was officially terrified.)
The next morning.
I was fired up to make up for the missed session. I stood on the track as Urara approached, waving and jogging toward me in her gym kit. Her tail was wagging harder than usual, and her ears were twitching with excitement.
"Trainer!"
She seemed even more energetic than usual. I smiled, glad that our little detour yesterday had done her some good.
"Hey, Urara. You're looking extra sharp to—OOF!"
Before I could finish, she didn't slow down. She kept her momentum and slammed right into me. I tried to catch her, but it was like being hit by a professional sumo wrestler. I was swept off my feet and flattened against the grass.
Wait, what? A tackle? Did I do something? Was she actually mad about the peppers?
I was dazed by the sheer impact. But as she clung to me, she looked down with a grin that could have powered the city.
"Trainer! I'm gonna give it my all! Just you watch!"
"O-Oh... okay. I don't quite get it, but... go for it."
"Un! Alright, let's do this!"
I didn't quite understand the sudden burst of physical affection, but as a Trainer, a motivated athlete is a blessing. Training is twice as effective when the student wants to be there.
We stood up, and I told her to start her warm-ups. As I watched her go through her stretches with a hum, I made a silent vow to myself.
I need to hit the gym. Hard.
Getting knocked over by a girl who barely reached my chin was a blow to my pride I wasn't quite ready to admit.
And so, our days of training continued, until the calendar finally turned to the most important date of our early career.
Late June. The Junior Class "Make Debut." Urara's first real race.