Chapter 165: The Mystery of the Malice-Free “Umapyoi”

It was mid-August.

Three weeks had already passed since I arrived in France.

This trip is scheduled to last three months in total. I came in mid-July, and it will end when I win the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe in early October and return home. In other words, one quarter of my time here—25%—has already slipped by.

…That’s fast. Far too fast.

Happy times fly by in an instant. I’ve learned that lesson all too well over the past three years. My days with Ayumu-san feel as though they move at ten times the speed of my childhood.

But even so—this heart-pounding overseas expedition with Ayumu-san…

Time is passing way, way too quickly!!

It feels like everything’s on 5x speed, like someone hit clock-up. At this point, I’m half convinced time itself is bending.

Well, I suppose that’s only natural. I’m practically on a honeymoon with the person I love, while at the same time challenging the very pinnacle of the world stage. Of course it’s fun. Of course it’s fulfilling.

Still, it’s troubling how fast it’s flying by. I want to savor it more—so much more!

Honestly, newlyweds are amazing. I’ve heard honeymoons usually last about a week at most. How do they endure that? If it were up to me, I’d happily spend a whole year like this. Ideally… I’d stay like this forever. Everyone else must have incredible self-restraint.

And yet, while I’m thinking all that, Ayumu-san seems a little different too. Perhaps because, inside our base of operations, we’re finally free from the invisible eyes of the public. Compared to when we were in Japan, he feels much more indulgent with me.

Before, if I got too close—half teasing, half serious—he’d give me a slightly troubled look and gently admonish me.

"Wilm."

Well, that’s understandable. Otaku-kun is the type of creature who loses his mind if his favorite idol gets within one meter of the opposite sex. Source: my past life. I was young then.

Given that, Ayumu-san’s reaction was perfectly reasonable. Even if he’s my partner and contracted trainer, not everyone can accept the whole “trainer × Uma Musume” dynamic.

…But things changed after we came here.

Whether I casually lean against him during strategy meetings, sneak up behind him while he’s cooking to hug him and breathe him in, or quietly slip into his bed, he may scold me—but he doesn’t stop me.

Well, except for the “A Trainer Has a Duty to Keep His Uma Musume Clean, Right!?” Operation: Heart-Pounding Bath Time Together. That one was firmly rejected.

Still, anything short of that seems to be tacitly approved.

Most of the time, he even looks faintly pleased—like he’s thinking, "Well, I suppose it can’t be helped."

…Does this mean Ayumu-san likes me too?!

An amateur might think so. But as a self-proclaimed third-dan Ayumu-san Expert, I can confidently say that’s impossible.

It’s true that he cares about me.

But that’s as a racing Uma Musume—not as a woman.

I mean, look at me. Outside of running, I’m no different from any other Uma Musume. Personality-wise, in this world full of saints, I’d say I’m closer to the worse end of the spectrum. Sure, I make plenty of money—and likely always will—but Ayumu-san comes from a distinguished family. He’s not the type to be swayed by that.

Objectively speaking, there’s no reason for him to harbor romantic feelings for me. Unless, like me, he’s leapt beyond logic and reason into a “this is the only person for me” kind of destined encounter.

And as for whether he feels that strongly about me… honestly, I can’t bring myself to be that arrogant.

I was once trapped in a frozen world, and Ayumu-san saved me. Not abruptly, but at my pace. He closed the distance gently. He crafted race schedules so I could face powerful rivals. Because of him, I was able to see warm stars again.

What have I done for him in return…? That’s debatable.

Even when he collapsed, all I could do was run my races with everything I had. If you ask whether I directly saved him, the honest answer is no.

How deeply he feels about me remains uncertain.

Well—I do think he likes me quite a bit.

But I used to be a cynical otaku, and when it comes to relationships, I lack experience and tend to misread things. Ever since that awkward first encounter with Nature, I’ve tried not to let myself get carried away.

In short, I imagine Ayumu-san’s mindset is something like this: "My trainee is about to take on the high-pressure battle that is the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe. As her trainer, I should support her mentally—even if that means putting myself out there. And besides, I’m happy that she relies on me."

…Wow. When I phrase it like that, I sound pretty awful.

Using “mental care” as an excuse to grope him or sniff him? That’s just forcing my own preferences onto my partner like the worst kind of person.

Well, he doesn’t seem uncomfortable… if anything, his reactions are positive, so I haven’t stopped.

Maybe it’s like that saying—“You can judge a horse girl by her hindquarters”? As in, he needs to thoroughly check my physical condition.

Or maybe it’s more of a guardian-type perspective—being happy that the child is being affectionate?

Maybe something like that is at play. I don’t really know.

Either way, as long as it’s win-win, there’s no reason to hesitate. And so I spend my days happily flirting with Ayumu-san to my heart’s content.

---

Now then—one day in that ordinary routine.

As usual, I went out for my independent training run.

The distance restriction from our base has been lifted. As long as I return within the allotted time, I’m free to run as far as I like. Of course, leaving France is out of the question—but within reason, it’s fine.

My favorite route is a riverside road about ten minutes from the base. It stretches for quite a distance, has almost no traffic lights, includes a dedicated lane for Uma Musume, and isn’t too crowded. It’s practically designed for solo training.

When I asked Ayumu-san about the river running alongside it, he told me it was the Seine. I was surprised—it shares the same name as the river near Longchamp Racecourse. Apparently, though, the Seine branches and merges repeatedly over hundreds of kilometers.

"France’s geography is amazing," I said in admiration.

"No, Japan has rivers like that too," he replied dryly.

So much for hiding my total lack of interest in geography. Not that it’s anything new.

France—Herblay.

Amid the gentle murmur of the river, my quiet voice rings out.

"Your beloved steed goes zoom-zoom, charging ahead—woo-hoo!"

This morning, Ayumu-san fed me breakfast—including sweet sautéed carrots—by hand with an "ahh." Naturally, I was in the best mood imaginable. I ran along humming that infamous hyperactive anthem: "Umapyoi Densetsu."

Back in my past life, when I first heard it in the anime, I’d been bewildered by the incomprehensible lyrics and over-the-top melody. "What is this…? What?" I’d thought, slightly taken aback.

Unsurprisingly, it exists in this world too—as a Winning Live song.

Apparently, though, it’s relatively new compared to the others I’ve performed. It debuted only three years ago, created as a special song awarded to the winner of the URA Finals, established during Meek-senpai’s golden generation.

…At the decisive battle at the summit of a generation?!

After a blistering, red-hot clash, they follow it up with that electric fever dream of a song?!

The URA Finals are positioned as the ultimate generational showdown, contested after full maturation—beyond the Classic Triple Crown or Tiara titles. Unlike the Classics, the Finals span three rounds across varying track conditions, meaning no one is excluded due to unmet entry requirements.

It is, quite literally, a battle where every Uma Musume has a chance to claim the highest honor. That’s why it can truly determine the real champion of a generation.

Let me say it again.

After a battle that intense… they perform that hyper pop song?!

…At least, that’s what I used to think.

But after watching this year’s URA Finals—specifically the long-distance division won by McQueen-san—and the Winning Live, my impression changed dramatically.

Yes, it’s chaotic. But that’s exactly what makes it work.

After such a fierce, electrifying race, that nonsensical high-energy vibe doesn’t let the crowd’s excitement cool. It drags everything straight into festival mode.

It’s like a spring blockbuster movie. At some point you just think, “We’ve come this far—if it’s hype, anything goes,” and you end up enjoying it wholeheartedly.

As a result, "Umapyoi Densetsu" has spread widely throughout Japanese society. Go to karaoke and it’s almost guaranteed to appear in the song history. You’ll hear people humming it. It even shows up in commercials and ads.

Whoever planned it had incredible nerve. The fact that it achieved real results makes it even more impressive. Though I can just imagine scholars fifty years from now studying the modern era and asking, “Why on earth did this become popular…?”

Anyway.

"Today we’ll sing—happy-happy darling… happy-happy DARLING!"

Darling.

The charm of that word makes me stop mid-song.

Darling, huh… what a lovely sound.

Of course, there’s only one man in my mind.

Someday, maybe I’ll call him "darling." Or maybe I won’t. Just imagining that bright future is enough to make me smile.

But setting that aside—

"Happy-happy darling, three-two-one, go fight! Upy-upy honey… upy-upy honey?"

…Come to think of it, what is “upy-upy honey”?

I understand “happy-happy.” That’s obvious. Super happy.

But “upy-upy”…?

U-uh… upy… upy… I have no idea.

Maybe if I were better at English, something would click.

Then again, trying to extract meaning from a song that opens with “umapyoi” might be missing the point entirely.

…So in the end, what exactly is “umapyoi,” anyway?

Where do we come from? What is umapyoi? Where are we going?

Perhaps it’s one of those eternal mysteries—questions that will never truly be answered.

---

…Eh, whatever.

This really doesn’t matter at all.

"Upy-upy honey, three-two-one—woo… fight!"

After finishing the song—well, technically I only sang the first verse, but let’s not split hairs—I felt surprisingly refreshed.

Sure, I was jogging at Uma Musume speed and singing under my breath, so there wasn’t exactly an audience. But even so, finishing a song feels good.

I’d already been in high spirits to begin with, and now my mood was absolutely soaring.

Grinning widely—probably enough to look a little scary from the outside—I ran through the calm morning streets.

Ahh… thanks to the Ayumu-san lovey-dovey buff, everything looks brighter and sounds more beautiful.

The air is slightly cooler than in Japan, the morning sun still low in the sky.

The gentle murmur of the river layered with the chirping of unfamiliar birds and insects.

The steady rhythm of my feet striking the moderately paved road—and the sound of footsteps trailing behind me.

…Footsteps?

"Hm."

Someone’s following me.

Wait, when did they get there? Yikes. I didn’t notice at all—probably because I was busy singing, even if it was under my breath.

When I run, my hearing sharpens.

More precisely, it’s probably not that my ears improve—my brain does.

Uma Musume naturally have excellent hearing. But if you consciously process every sound that reaches those ears, a human-level brain would overflow.

In my case, when I run, a bit of my “anime reincarnation” ability seems to leak out, increasing my processing speed. That allows me to handle background noise I’d normally filter out unconsciously.

…At least, that’s my theory. No proof, though.

In any case, even without fully activating “anime reincarnation,” I can pick up detailed sounds within about ten lengths—roughly twenty-five meters—while running.

Which means I can clearly hear the footsteps following me now.

At first, I thought it might just be a coincidence.

But when I increased my pace, they matched it.

When I slowed down, they slowed too.

Yeah… I think it’s safe to say I’m being tailed.

Hmm. I don’t recognize these footsteps.

It doesn’t sound like Ayumu-san pushing himself to the limit to keep up. And it’s unlikely to be Nature or Teio pulling some surprise visit.

Especially since just last night, Nature and Teio sent pictures to our LANE group chat of them having a blast at the beach. So that’s basically impossible.

The rhythm isn’t strained. No irregular breathing. Even at a jogging pace, only another Uma Musume could keep up this easily.

So the other party is definitely an Uma Musume.

There’s no awkwardness or instability in her stride, so it’s not a newly developing Junior-class runner either.

That leaves Classic-class or Senior-class.

Among the European Classic-class and above runners I know, there are the ones who came to last year’s Japan Cup.

Silver Pigeon-chan and Witch Evening-chan stand out in my memory.

But these footsteps don’t quite match theirs.

Compared to them, this sound feels lighter—yet paradoxically stronger.

Conclusion: an Uma Musume I don’t know, Classic or Senior class.

…Which narrows it down to basically nothing.

"Hmm…"

What should I do?

Being followed by an unfamiliar Uma Musume during solo training isn’t actually a first for me.

Last year, Rice-chan chased after me like this, and that’s how we ended up meeting.

If I figure out who this is and ask why she’s following me, maybe it could turn into a new connection.

The problem is… my language skills are completely shot.

Even English—the one drilled into us through Japan’s mandatory education—is shaky at best. As for other languages? Basically nonexistent.

I can vaguely read some Chinese from my past life in university, but it’s fuzzy at best. And French? Forget it.

There’s no way I could smoothly respond to native French or English.

At best, I’d be stuck communicating through gestures and pointing.

And going out of my way to start a conversation like that feels… awkward.

It might inconvenience her. And it’d be embarrassing.

…But then I reconsidered.

That kind of thinking isn’t good.

I came all the way overseas. Avoiding a challenge just because “it’s troublesome” or “it might bother someone” is too conservative.

New encounters and growth only come from taking risks.

With an Uma Musume’s physical abilities—and my reincarnation cheat—I’m probably not in any real danger. So maybe I should try talking to her.

Body language and pointing should get the message across. Probably.

So I stop and turn around.

About twenty meters away, another Uma Musume halts abruptly in response.

She has beautiful blonde hair tinged slightly with brown, a large tiara-shaped accessory on her left ear, and a petite frame—smaller than mine, though not by much.

She’s wearing sunglasses, but I can feel her gaze fixed on me from behind them.

Something about her feels faintly familiar… like I’ve seen her somewhere before.

But first things first.

Judging by her position and footsteps, she’s definitely the one who’s been tailing me.

I’ll try speaking to her. I don’t understand French at all, so hopefully English works.

“Uh… hello. What’s your name?”

That came out more blunt than I expected.

Wait—is that intimidating? If you’re following someone and they suddenly spin around and ask, “What’s your name?” that’s kind of scary, right?

I started to panic a little—

But she fidgeted, glancing left and right before finally meeting my eyes.

“W-well, let me see… are you Hoshino Wilm-san?”

“Huh? Japanese!?”

I didn’t catch the first half clearly, but the second half was definitely Japanese.

The pronunciation and intonation weren’t perfect—hardly native—but it was unmistakably Japanese.

I’ve heard Japanese is notoriously difficult to master. If she can speak it this well, that’s impressive.

“You can speak Japanese!? That’s amazing! I didn’t expect to meet someone who speaks Japanese here!”

“Wait, please! I’m… I speak a little Japanese. I study… studied. So, you need to speak slowly. Please?”

She waved her hands nervously as she spoke.

Her pronunciation was actually quite solid. It didn’t feel like a grammar issue—more like she was just flustered. She might be far more proficient than she’s letting on.

That’s impressive. I can barely manage English, and here she is speaking Japanese overseas. An intellectual-type Uma Musume… I kind of admire that.

But right—focus.

Even if her Japanese is good, it’s still not her native language. If I speak too fast or use complicated phrasing, her brain might not keep up. I know that pain all too well from my past life struggling through listening exams.

So I need to slow down. Keep it simple.

“Okay. And to answer your question—yes, I’m Hoshino Wilm.”

“Hoshino Wilm…-san!”

I placed a hand on my chest as I answered.

And—wow.

Her eyes behind those sunglasses sparkled.

It was the kind of bright, heated gaze you use to look up at a distant star.

I know that look.

It’s the look of a fan.

At a glance, she seems physically well-trained. And from the way she kept up with me, she’s definitely a racing Uma Musume.

…Is she my fan?

It’s not unusual for racing Uma Musume to be fans of other racers.

For example, I always watch Nature’s and Teio’s races live. Sometimes I even disguise myself and go to the track with Ayumu-san. By that logic, I suppose I count as a fan too.

And I’ve heard that Pre-Open and Open-class Uma Musume, who aren’t as busy, often make following G1-level runners their hobby.

Maybe she’s one of them.

In fact, as if confirming my guess, she said it outright.

“I—I’m a fan! I’m your fan, Hoshino Wilm-san!”

“I see… thank you.”

That, without exaggeration, made me genuinely happy.

I’d left my home base of Japan and come all the way to Europe—practically the other side of the globe—and yet there was still someone here who knew me, who watched me, who cared about me.

There’s hardly a racing Uma Musume alive who wouldn’t be thrilled by that.

“I was over there, and I happened to see you, Hoshino Wilm-san. And then… well… I ended up running after you…”

“It’s okay. You surprised me a little, but I’m happy you feel that way.”

Racing Uma Musume are still children.

Well, I’m one too, so I can’t exactly speak from some lofty adult perspective… but I did make it to university in my previous life. I think I’m allowed just a tiny bit of big-sister energy. Probably.

In any case, the Uma Musume competing in the Twinkle Series—though it’s apparently called something else in France—are idols and athletes, yes, but they’re also just middle- and high-school girls.

Getting a little carried away in front of a star? That’s perfectly age-appropriate behavior.

And I’m not her guardian. Not her teacher. Not her trainer. And—this may sound cold—not even her friend.

So it’s not my place to scold her for being impulsive.

Right now, my role is simply to affirm her feelings and let her enjoy this extraordinary moment as it is.

That’s part of being a star—an influencer.

“Thank you for always cheering me on. I run because of fans like you.”

“W-we also receive energy from you. Thank you very much!”

When I smiled at her, she blushed slightly and returned a shy smile.

Her words were a little clumsy, but her expression alone conveyed everything.

A fan’s pure feelings are precious.

That warmth circles back to me, becoming heat in my chest—fuel that lets me run faster.

And the way I run ignites something in the fans, who in turn send their love back again.

That positive cycle elevates racing Uma Musume more than anything else.

We can’t run without our fans.

And fans can’t fully enjoy racing without us.

We need each other.

“What’s your name?”

“A-Anne. That’s what I’m called.”

“Anne-chan, huh? That’s a lovely name.”

It felt a little short for a racing Uma Musume’s full name—maybe it’s a nickname?

I don’t know enough about Europe to say whether it’s common here. But from a Japanese otaku-culture perspective, “Anne” isn’t unusual at all.

To me, it feels almost familiar.

Her pale skin was flushed pink with excitement as her eyes shimmered—no, glistened—with tears.

Ah. That’s it.

That’s the look an otaku gets when they see or speak to their favorite in person.

I’ve been there. I know that feeling.

Maybe Anne-chan is an even bigger Hoshino Wilm fan than I thought.

Come to think of it… what if she studied Japanese because she likes me? If that’s the case, then beneath that composed exterior she might actually be an intensely devoted fan.

“Hehe… so then, Anne-chan. Will you be watching the Prix Foy?”

“Of course! I’m very, very much looking forward to it!”

“Good. Please do. I’ll win, obviously.”

I said it with a wink.

“See you!”

And then I started running again.

Honestly, since she could speak Japanese, I would have liked to talk more. Ask her questions. Learn about her.

I can’t deny I felt a little reluctant to leave.

But interactions with fans should stay moderate.

Go too far, and it can cause trouble—or create feelings of unfairness among other fans.

As a former otaku, I try to stay mindful of that.

When I resumed running, Anne-chan’s footsteps didn’t follow.

She must have understood that today’s encounter ended there.

Ahh… I really do have good fans.

If I spot her at the Prix Foy, maybe I’ll greet her again.

Thinking that, I continued my jog.

It wasn’t until just before the end of my solo training time that something clicked.

That blonde hair. That build. That ear accessory.

Her slightly timid demeanor didn’t quite match the confident, commanding aura she displayed during races…

“…Understandable.”

The undefeated heroine with a 100% win rate, who had swept this year’s English and Irish Oaks.

Anne-chan’s appearance matched exactly the photograph in the materials Ayumu-san had prepared for me.

…But could something like that really be a coincidence?

Herblay, where I’m staying, is a fair distance from Paris.

Which means it’s also fairly far from the training center there.

Sure, Uma Musume have long strides and wide ranges. It’s possible someone might run this far.

But among that vast range, what are the odds that Hoshino Wilm, out for solo training, would just happen to run into the local superstar Understandable?

Wouldn’t it be more likely that she was simply someone who looked very similar?

Especially given how different she felt—nothing like the bold, dominant presence she showed during races. Up close, she seemed more like… well, an otaku.

And to be fair, I hadn’t memorized the reference photos perfectly. I couldn’t say with certainty that it was her.

“…Just a lookalike, maybe?”

Strange things do happen sometimes.

I drifted along in thought like that—

Only to forget all about it the moment I returned home and heard:

“Welcome back.”

That night, Ayumu-san fed me with an “ahh,” gave me a massage, combed my hair, and held me close as we fell asleep together.

It was an unbelievably perfect evening.

Overseas training camps are the best!