Chapter 52: Report: "On the Two Front-Running Horse Girls"

After the Takarazuka Memorial and its Winning Live concluded, Trainer Momozawa and Apollo Rainbow returned to Tracen Academy via bullet train. With the sun already set, they should have parted ways—yet somehow, Trainer Momozawa ended up kidnapped.

Momozawa was bewildered. His vision was swallowed by complete darkness, leaving only sound to guide him. Every blink made his lashes brush against something. Apparently, something had been pulled over his head. The image of Special Week’s trainer flashed in his mind. Surely not Gold Ship? No, he had no connection to her. Then who had kidnapped him?

"Ehh-ho, ehh-ho!"

It happened right after he parted with Apollo in front of the trainer’s office. Someone ambushed him from behind, immobilized him, then hauled him off somewhere.

"Ehh-ho, ehh-ho!"

As he thrashed around, a sudden impact hit his backside—he’d been plopped onto a chair or something. Once his sense of balance steadied, the bag over his head was yanked away.

The room was dimly lit. The pungent sting of chemicals filled the air, and blackout curtains sealed it off from the outside world. Squinting, he spotted shelves of reagents and scattered glassware. A… lab?

Scanning the area, his eyes landed on the horse girl who’d tossed the sack aside—Agnes Tachyon. Her deep chestnut hair was cut short, save for one wildly defiant cowlick sprouting from her crown. A geometric-patterned earring dangled from her right ear, and in the gloom, her dull, highlightless eyes shimmered with an indescribable madness.

Agnes spun on her heel, flashing Trainer Momozawa a smirk laced with mischief.

"Welcome, Apollo Rainbow’s trainer. I wanted a word, so I borrowed you."

"Borrowed"?! He bit back the urge to retort.

"Agnes Tachyon… Was there really no gentler way to invite me?"

"I’ll admit my methods were rough, but that’s irrelevant now."

"It’s very relevant—"

Momozawa started to argue, but Agnes steamrolled over him, her speech rapid-fire.

"Watching today’s Takarazuka Memorial confirmed it. The sooner you grasp what I’m about to say, the better—for your future, my research, and… the terrifying, fascinating unpredictability ahead. I’ll say the same to Silence Suzuka and her trainer. This can’t wait."

"…Huh?"

What is she even talking about? Though unrestrained, Momozawa found himself rooted by curiosity. As he waited for Agnes to continue, her pupils abruptly contracted to unnerving pinpricks.

"…Apollo Rainbow. She’s an exceptional horse girl, isn’t she?"

Cradling her chin, Agnes leaned in with a grin bordering on deranged. Momozawa nearly got lost in her striking features before her manic aura snapped him back to reality.

"…Agnes. Cut the theatrics and spit it out."

"Hmm, very well. Apollo Rainbow’s trainer, indulge me—may I speak freely? About… the potential shared by Apolo Rainbow and Silence Suzuka."

"Potential?"

As Momozawa echoed the word, Agnes’s eyes blew wide.

"Yes, potential! Silence Suzuka’s races are dominated by peerless speed, while Apollo Rainbow grinds her rivals down with unmatched stamina. If perfected, their running could propel us horse girls to a new era!"

Momozawa frowned. What common ground do Apollo and Suzuka even share? He knew Apollo admired Suzuka, but beyond both being front-runners, was there more? Apollo sometimes muttered about "feeling something fateful with Suzuka"—maybe that was connected?

"In a sense, Apollo Rainbow and Silence Suzuka are venturing into the unknown. So, trainer—tell me about your preparations."

"…I wouldn’t call it ‘normal,’ but it’s nothing extraordinary. Just… brutal, quantity-over-quality Spartan training."

"Hmm… Care to elaborate?"

"Within reason—"

As Momozawa listed the regimen, Agnes’s enthusiasm waned. The training was high-intensity but otherwise standard—hardly groundbreaking.

"No superhuman conditioning…? Then it must stem from the mental aspect influencing the physical. Perhaps awakening

‘Zone’ through life-or-death races forged their current forms…? Hah. My hypothesis may be off."

"…Agnes. What is the ‘Zone,’ really? A horse girl’s psyche warping reality under extreme stress?"

"…We horse girls run carrying countless ‘wishes.’ Unscientific as it sounds for a researcher like me… the mind can shape the body. But I digress."

Agnes’s gaze drifted.

"Silence Suzuka and Apollo Rainbow awakened in G1s, delivering flawless runs. But—they’re not done yet. For Apollo, long-distance may be her true stage. Suzuka’s physical peak likely hits this autumn. Yet their growth… could spell ruin."

"Wait, how do you know Apollo’s suited for—"

"Oh, relax—I just stumbled on it while researching. But that’s beside the point. Both are still evolving, yet their running is near-perfected. If they push past their limits next race… their legs might—"

"…Break. Is that what you’re saying?"

“No, I don’t know. There's still so much we don’t understand about the Uma Musume. I apologize for making you uneasy. But I’m hopeful. That you and Suzuka will be the ones to reveal the next stage of evolution for the Uma Musume.”

Agnes Tachyon clapped her hands together as if satisfied with her own conclusion. Without understanding a thing, Momozawa was dismissed with a casual, “Sorry for springing that on you. You can go now.” Still reeling from the exchange, the trainer returned to his office and stood there, unable to shake the gloom hanging over him.

---

Apollo Rainbow might break down—

That thought had been circling nonstop in Momozawa’s head as they pushed through training just before the summer break. His eyes were fixed on Apollo as she ran along the woodchip course.

Apollo Rainbow. A delicate Uma Musume. Her usual demeanor was soft and slow-paced—so far removed from the fire she’d shown in the Derby that it was hard to believe she was the same girl. How much burden were the Three Goddesses planning to heap on that small back of hers? It felt like fate itself was conspiring to keep her from breaking past her limits.

After all those bitter, near-miss finishes, she had finally seized her first victory—and yet, waiting beyond that triumph was the cruel promise of collapse. As if it had been deliberately prepared for her.

Momozawa couldn’t accept it. He wouldn’t. A trainer’s job is to guide a girl—two girls, if you count Silence Suzuka—toward growth, both as competitors and as Uma Musume.

Even if ruin awaited them on the other side of their limits, his role was to believe in Apollo and run alongside her toward the dream of becoming the strongest stayer. That was the best he could do right now, as her trainer. And that’s why he had to be fully prepared for the worst.

After training, Momozawa began gently massaging Apollo’s body. Her arms were pale to the point of looking unwell. Her shoulders seemed like they might snap with a firm grip.

Her waist was so small it could disappear into the palm of his hand. Her legs, though muscular, still had room to grow. To someone like Momozawa, with the body of a broad, thick-set man, Apollo Rainbow’s frame was as fragile as blown glass.

Even humans—who are far weaker than Uma Musume—sometimes injure themselves when they lose control of their own strength. You’ve heard the phrase “hysterical strength,” haven’t you? It comes from the idea that, during emergencies like house fires, people can exhibit strength they’d normally never have—hauling heavy objects outside that they’d never dream of lifting under ordinary circumstances.

It’s said that both humans and Uma Musume are equipped with built-in safety mechanisms—limiters in the brain that prevent them from using their full strength.

Under normal conditions, when there’s no acute danger or mental stress, those limiters remain firmly in place. No matter how hard you push yourself, you can only reach what’s called your “psychological limit”—the point your own mind believes to be the maximum.

But when the limiter is removed, you can surpass the psychological limit and access the full potential of your muscles—the so-called “physiological limit.” It’s said that the psychological limit is only about 70% of the physiological one. The key to high performance lies in how well you can override that limiter.

The “Domain Zone,” which only manifests in the heat of an extreme battle, is closely tied to hysterical strength. If, during a race, a runner manages to destroy the limiter within their brain, they can unlock their hidden final gear—the “Domain Zone”—a burst of finishing speed even they never knew they possessed.

Naturally, breaking past the brain’s limiter increases the risk of injury. After all, the limiter exists to prevent damage to the muscles and bones. If controlled well, it can be a boon—but stories of athletes hurting themselves from pushing too hard are all too common.

What Agnes Tachyon had warned him about was this: if Apollo Rainbow triggered the Domain Zone while running a long-distance race—where her true strength lies—her legs might not survive the strain. And yet, that was always one of the risks they had accepted from the start.

Uma Musume are creatures constantly shadowed by the threat of injury. How many of them make it to retirement without ever getting hurt? Far more have been forced to retire because of injury.

This was one future they had to avert, and to do that, he’d need to coordinate with Silence Suzuka’s trainer. Momozawa gently stroked the hair of the sleeping Apollo Rainbow, who was breathing softly and peacefully beside him.

When he ran his fingers through her mane, her silky gray hairs wrapped around them like thread. A faint, sweet scent rose up and tickled his nose. Looking down at her defenseless sleeping face, something in him swelled and burst with affection.

Ah… what a lovely girl. What a beautiful Uma Musume. He wanted to protect her. He never wanted her to suffer another injury again. Even if she left his side someday, he wanted Apollo to grow tall and strong, straight and unshaken. No matter how towering the wall ahead, he would never—never—let anyone lay a hand on her.

Momozawa reached out and touched Apollo Rainbow’s large ears. A faint murmur—“Nn…”—slipped from her lips. He didn’t mind if she woke up. Letting his fingers trace the shape of her horse ears, he began to gently caress them.

Apollo herself might not be aware of it, but every time she heard Momozawa’s voice, her ears would perk up, twitching with excitement. Honestly, he’d been dying to touch them.

Whenever he called out to her, Apollo Rainbow would turn around with those perked ears and a beaming smile, radiating warmth and trust. That open, affectionate grin of hers—so sweet, so unguarded. Momozawa had fallen for her far more deeply than he realized.

Whether those feelings stemmed from romantic affection or something more familial, like the love one has for a younger sister, he couldn’t say. But he decided there was no need to name it. Just knowing how much she meant to him—how deeply he cared for Apollo Rainbow—was enough.

“You really have a talent for charming your trainer.”

He muttered the words under his breath to the softly smiling Apollo Rainbow, eyes still shut in peaceful rest. Her ears flopped sideways, as if to say, More, please.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep? Geez… you’re hopeless.”

Apollo Rainbow trusted him. She let her guard down around him completely. And to Momozawa, there was nothing more precious than that. He ran his large hand gently through her hair, with all the tenderness and care he could give.

In that moment, Momozawa made a vow in his heart.

Let’s paint the sky with a rainbow again at the Classics.

He would never let Apollo Rainbow shed tears again. He’d research every possible method to prevent injuries, collaborate closely with Silence Suzuka’s trainer, and find a way to overcome whatever lay ahead.

The world of Uma Musume racing was brutal. Accidents during races weren’t uncommon, and there were girls who had seen their careers end in an instant. Just imagining the sleeping girl beside him losing the ability to run on the turf was enough to make his chest ache.

To Trainer Momozawa, Apollo Rainbow wasn’t just another horse girl—she was his. The perfect partner, someone he’d never find again, who matched him in every rhythm, every dream.

What he had staked on her—his hopes, his ambitions—was beyond ordinary devotion. That’s why he had to prepare for the calamity Agnes Tachyon had warned of. For whatever might be waiting at the Kikuka-shō.

He would do everything within his power, then leave the rest to fate. He would use this summer break to give everything he had—and come the Kikuka-shō, he would entrust it all to the hands of destiny.

He would believe in the strength of his own feelings, and give Apollo Rainbow that final push. That was all a trainer could do. In the end, all he could ever be was the support beneath her hooves.

Clenching his fist, Momozawa looked up at the ceiling of his office.

“Apollo…”

If only I could shoulder even a little of what weighs on your back.

He gave her head a gentle final stroke, then turned to the laptop on his desk. There wasn’t much time left until the Kikuka-shō. No matter how much sleep he sacrificed, it wouldn’t be enough to prepare Apollo Rainbow perfectly for the race.

As he mentally apologized to the girl still sleeping soundly, Momozawa cracked open the cap of a chilled energy drink from the fridge.

What lay ahead for Momozawa and Apollo Rainbow wasn’t some petty matter like distance aptitude. Their true enemy was Apollo Rainbow herself—and the fate that had been written for her. The destiny they couldn’t overturn in the Satsuki-shō or the Japanese Derby still awaited.

And so, the two of them stepped into the summer’s training—ready to defy it.