Chapter 21: Thank You, Trainer

Chapter 21: Thank You, Trainer

At the very front of the spectator stands, Makoto finally lowered the binoculars he had been holding from start to finish. A breath of relief left his lips, followed by a small, satisfied chuckle.

“Heh… Wins the race and then immediately faceplants. Honestly, what am I even supposed to say about that…”

Hearing his comment, both Satono sisters turned toward him—one with shock, the other with delight.

Crown furrowed her brow, clearly not amused.

“Trainer Yasui, isn’t that kind of a terrible way to talk about your own Umamusume?”

At the same time, Satono Diamond, still caught up in the thrill of the race, sounded more worried than anything else.

“Crown, let’s not get into that right now—Trainer Yasui, Kitasan just wiped out pretty hard… shouldn’t you go check on her?”

Logically speaking, Makoto wasn’t too worried about Kitasan Black’s fall. He had been tracking her condition day in and day out—he knew just how ridiculously tough her body was.

Actually, a conversation between them that happened in the cafeteria had only confirmed it further.

One time during a meal, the topic of physical toughness had come up. Kitasan had casually mentioned she’d always been sturdy since she was a kid.

She rarely got sick, rarely got hurt.

Whether it was hiking into the mountains or running along the coast, while her friends dropped from exhaustion, she would still be bouncing around like she was just getting started.

Back in elementary school, she once tried to rescue a kitten stuck in a tree with Satono Diamond.

She fell—from the height of a third floor.

The result? Just some scrapes.

Also, she left a shallow dent in the ground where she landed.

So yeah, she was fine.

It was Satono Diamond who’d been scared out of her mind that day.

And more recently, Kitasan had even asked him to increase her training intensity, saying her current regimen felt too light.

Of course, Makoto had no intention of rushing the schedule.

In his plan, the training volume would increase steadily, there is no reason for them to jump the gun.

Still, logic was one thing. Watching her take a spill like that with his own eyes? It stirred concern he couldn’t suppress.

So when Satono Diamond voiced her worry, Makoto gave a small nod and quickly made his way down toward the back of the grandstands.

Diamond took a few hurried steps to follow—until she felt a sudden tug on her wrist.

“Crown…?”

She turned, surprised to see her older sister holding her back.

“…There’s something I want to ask.”

Crown’s gaze shifted to the race display board.

“Look at the numbers up there,” she said, pointing. “1 minute 51.9 seconds, 34.1—those are Kitasan’s total race time and her last three-furlong pace.”

Satono Diamond turned to the display, blinking. Her sister was right.

“Yeah, that’s what it says… but I haven’t debuted yet, so I’m not really sure what those numbers mean.”

Crown crossed her arms, thinking.

“What if I told you my debut race was 1 minute 50 flat, and my last three-furlong was 33.5? Same track, same 1800 meters.”

Satono Diamond’s eyes widened.

“Wait, so— Kitasan’s time was actually slower than yours?”

“But… she looked so much faster!”

She had been there the day Crown made her debut, cheering her sister on from the stands and watching the entire race. Crown had won with overwhelming style, and her numbers were excellent.

And yet somehow, watching Kitasan race today—even with the slower time and weaker splits—it felt like she was moving faster.

Way faster.

“I don’t get it either,” Crown admitted. “I thought since you’re her roommate, maybe you’d understand. But… you’re right. If even I can’t figure it out, it’s even less likely you could—especially before your debut.”

Satono Diamond nodded slowly, still puzzled.

Her heart was still pounding from the race.

From that girl who had exploded past the finish line, faceplanted into the dirt, and still somehow made it all look incredible.

Satono Crown gave a small shake of her head and turned to watch the direction Makoto had gone.

“Kitasan’s in the same class as us, so we’ve all seen her regular training sessions.”

“And for the past month, she’s been doing special training under that trainer.”

“It’s pretty obvious—that young-looking trainer… the methods he uses are completely different from the rest.”

“Maybe the reason we can’t figure out what’s going on… is because the key lies with Trainer Yasui himself.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

Makoto caught up with Kitasan Black in the infirmary—not because there was anything wrong with her.

Every race, regardless of outcome, involved a full-body check both before and after the match.

And considering that very public wipeout she took at the finish line, it made sense the staff would be extra careful.

Just as he expected, the results confirmed it—no injuries, no issues. Physically, she was in perfect condition. It was almost hard to believe she was the same girl who'd eaten dirt in front of thousands just minutes ago.

And the moment Kitasan saw him, she burst with energy like a firecracker—not the slightest sign of fatigue after an 1800-meter sprint.

“Trainer! Did you see that?! I—I— I won!!”

“I— cough cough— I saw you win, yeah. Congrats. But could you, um… let go of me first…?”

“Ah—Aah?! S-Sorry! I just got too excited…”

Blinking, Kitasan finally realized she had barreled into him at full force. Makoto’s face had turned a little red. She instantly released him and jumped back a few steps, flustered and guilty.

“A-Are you okay, Trainer?!”

Makoto gave his arms a light shake. There was some lingering numbness in both, but nothing serious. He let out a quiet sigh of relief and chuckled to himself.

‘Man, she’s strong. If I didn’t know how to absorb impact, I might’ve dislocated something from that hug alone.’

“I’m fine. And congratulations, Kitasan. You just won your very first race.”

He gave her another small nod and smile to go with the praise.

After giving their thanks to the on-site doctor, the two left the infirmary and made their way toward the waiting lounge.

Along the way, Kitasan couldn’t stop talking.

One moment she was babbling about how she didn’t feel anything during the final sprint, how the win didn’t even register until she heard the crowd screaming.

The next, she was complaining that she should’ve invited her grandpa to watch in person, though she was sure he saw it on TV.

Then she started wondering if her idol, Teio-senpai, had watched it too—and even if she hadn’t, Kitasan was determined to call and tell her about it.

Eventually, the topic shifted to the Winner’s Stage.

It was a staple of Umamusume events. Like with traditional idols, Umamusumes didn’t just race—they also performed.

The academy had a dedicated dance hall for practice, along with live concerts, endorsements, and merchandise.

And after every race day, there would be a live stage show where all racers participated.

The one who stood in the spotlight—the star of the show—was the winner of each race.

That was the Winner’s Stage.

The moment she brought it up, Kitasan stopped walking.

Her jewel-like red eyes focused intently on Makoto.

“Y’know… I’ve been talking this whole time, but I just realized I still haven’t said the thing I wanted to say most…”

She gave her usual, sheepish laugh and stepped forward.

Just like in the infirmary, she reached out—and gently wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek against his chest.

This time, it wasn’t the tackle from earlier. Her movements were soft, her strength restrained.

“I thought of a bunch of ways to say thank you while I was in the infirmary. I even started writing a few on my phone…”

“But none of them came out right. The more I tried, the harder it got.”

“Hehe~ I guess you already know this, Trainer, but I’m kinda dumb when it comes to this stuff.”

“That’s why… training someone like me must’ve been tough, right?”

“So…”

“…Thank you, Trainer.”

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