Chapter 15: Do You Have an Answer for the Future?

Chapter 15: Do You Have an Answer for the Future?

In the days that followed, Kitasan Black could always be seen walking to and from school—or training, or resting—with something heavy tucked into both of her jacket pockets.

Of course, it was those stones.

The very same smooth, cleanly split river rock that Makoto had shattered barehanded.

At the time, she’d been frozen in place with shock. Even after she’d taken the two stone halves from him, her disbelief only grew stronger.

The fracture line was absurdly smooth.

So smooth, in fact, it looked as if it had been carved by a laser cutter—or at the very least, polished with sandpaper after being sawed through.

At that moment, she had zero doubt in what Makoto had told her.

If she truly mastered those strange, awkward poses…

Then maybe—no, definitely—she too would gain the kind of control that could split stones barehanded.

And with that control, she could run faster than anyone had ever imagined.

Just thinking about it made her chest tighten with anticipation.

She found herself itching to know what the next set of poses would be.

But just as if he had predicted exactly what she’d be thinking, her trainer spoke up before she could even ask:

“I know you’re eager, but don’t rush.”

“This isn’t something you can force.”

“Your potential is incredible—maybe even too good. And because of that, reaching full control might actually take longer for you than for others.”

“What I’m teaching you will speed up the process, yes. But you must follow my instructions step by step. Skip ahead, and you could end up seriously injured.”

“Now get going. Time for your regular run.”

—Truth be told, she still wanted to ask about the next steps.

But she’d always prided herself on being a good listener when it came to elders and mentors.

Even if her trainer wasn’t that much older than her, he felt mature.

The kind of dependable, grounded presence that reminded her of the grown-ups in her family.

He always seemed so confident in what he was doing. So knowledgeable.

And he had aced the trainer exams with the top score, too.

Yup. She should listen to him.

Still…

When will she reach the level he’s at…?

Before she realized it, she was lost in thought again.

Her fingers drifted to her jacket pocket, pulling out the two halves of the pebble. She stared at them, her expression quietly focused.

“Well then, for this question—let’s hear from you, Black-san.”

Her body reacted on pure instinct.

“Yes! The answer is Tokai Teio!!”

Silence fell across the classroom like a curtain.

A beat passed. Then muffled giggles began to ripple through the room.

At the front of the class, the teacher—still facing the blackboard—let out a long, audible sigh.

“Black-san… I know Student Council President Teio is your idol, but…”

“You really can’t make every answer about her, okay?”

“Also… would you mind explaining what it is you’re holding?”

“…Huh?”

She blinked in confusion—then finally realized.

The rock halves were still in her hands.

With a small gasp, she reflexively hid them behind her back. But it was no use.

Moments later, she lowered her head, face flushed bright red, and held them out obediently.

“…They’re… rocks…”

“…Rocks.”

The teacher sounded like he’d just swallowed a cough. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

“Please stay focused during class.”

“Don’t bring in distractions, and certainly don’t play with rocks.”

“Take your seat, and come see me in my office after class.”

“All right everyone, settle down. Let’s move on.”

For this next question—Crown-san, would you like to answer?”

“Yes, sensei.”

From a few seats diagonally in front of Kitasan, a Umamusume with long black hair rose to her feet and replied crisply:

“In the Shining Star Series, the first undefeated Triple Crown winner was former Student Council President and current University Division Chairwoman—Symboli Rudolf-senpai.”

“Correct. That’s right—Symboli Rudolf. Thank you, Crown-san. Please take your seat.”

As she quickly stuffed the two stone halves back into her pocket, Kitasan Black finally realized what the teacher had meant earlier—and couldn’t help but grumble softly under her breath.

“Teio-senpai only missed the Kikuka Sho, you know…”

“Now then, for our next topic… Hmm? Black-san, did you just say something?”

“Y-Yes! I mean—no! I didn’t say anything at all, sensei!”

“Sit down and focus on the lesson. And don’t forget—you’re coming to my office after class.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

That evening — Dance Studio, after training

“So, I heard you got called to the teacher’s office for daydreaming today?”

Still focused on his tablet, tapping out numbers and adjusting plans, Makoto brought it up as casually as someone asking about the weather.

“Wha—Trainer, you already know?!”

Kitasan Black, in the middle of her cool-down stretches, flinched with embarrassment.

“W-Well… Hehe… I just kind of… zoned out for a second, and got caught…”

“If you hadn’t gotten caught, would you have just kept zoning out?”

He looked up at her, unamused, and shook his head with a sigh.

“General education matters too.”

“It comes up more often in training and races than you think.”

“More importantly, once you retire or graduate, you’ll really need what you learn in those classes.”

“If your grades tank and you need to retake exams, don’t think I’m going to beg your homeroom teacher for leniency.”

At Tracen Academy, general academics and racing-specific training were handled separately. Teachers and trainers didn’t usually interfere in each other’s duties.

But still—

“It’s okay, really! I always ask Diamond-chan to help me catch up after class!”

Kitasan gave a confident pat to her chest—only to deflate immediately after.

“But, like… literature and history I can manage, sorta. But math is so hard! And physics and biology too…”

“Oh! But Trainer, you’re really good at math and biology, right? Why not tutor me instead?”

“…I suggest you pay attention in class instead.”

Makoto shook his head firmly.

“Just because I know the material doesn’t mean I can teach it.”

“And besides, there’s no tutoring requirement on the trainer qualification exams.”

“Aww… okay then. I’ll try to listen properly.”

Kitasan nodded obediently, lips pursed in resignation.

“But even if it’s tough, I think I’m doing okay.”

“My grades aren’t as good as Diamond-chan or Crow-chan, but I’m not failing or anything!”

Hearing that, Makoto nodded in approval.

Academic performance didn’t directly affect race results, but the right knowledge could absolutely make training more effective.

And retaking exams after failing wasn’t just a hassle—it also involved the student council, and usually required the trainer to mediate.

For him, as someone who had just become her dedicated trainer, it would be more than a little awkward if his trainee failed a class before even running her debut race.

“Glad to hear that. I’ll keep an eye on your academic progress too, just in case.”

He nodded and began packing up for the night.

As always, Kitasan Black beamed and rushed over with a cheerful, “Trainer, I’ll carry that for you!” before slinging his shoulder bag over her back with practiced enthusiasm.

Afterward, the two of them made their usual stop at the cafeteria for dinner.

And once the meal was done, Makoto quietly pulled out his tablet once more.

“Remember what I asked you before—about your future?”

He looked up at her, eyes calm but focused.

“So… Do you have an answer yet?”

Career direction—often called the "race trajectory" in Umamusume circles—was technically a trainer's responsibility.

Only trainers could submit event applications to the Academy and the URA Association, and only they could officially set a Umamusume's competitive path.

But out of courtesy—and more importantly, out of respect—most trainers would always defer to their Umamusume's wishes.

If she had no preference, fine.

But if she did, no decent trainer would ever override that.

And if opinions clashed, the expectation was clear: talk it out, and decide together.

Makoto, however, wasn’t exactly a “typical” trainer.

In his previous life, he hadn’t believed in depending on others.

He had walked his entire path alone.

Whatever choices he made, whatever consequences they brought—he bore them all himself.

Even during his early years in this world, he never once turned to his parents for help.

No matter the decision, he handled everything on his own.

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