Uma Musume Pretty Derby: Ten Meters Chapter 141: Uma Musume Pretty Derby: Ten Meters [141] [EXTR

Although they had agreed to talk tomorrow, it was already Monday morning when Yasui Makoto finally saw Kitasan Black again.

It seed she had obediently followed instructions to rest early, because when they reunited, the girl was back to her usual energetic self.

"I give up!"

The mont she saw Yasui Makoto, Kitasan Black shouted with exuberant excitent:

"I realized I can't figure it out by myself! So, fighting desperately, winning no matter what, all of that—I'm leaving it to you, Trainer!"

"I believe in you, Trainer!"

It took Yasui Makoto a mont to grasp her aning. He pinched his chin, lowering his head thoughtfully.

Although phrased differently, Deep Impact had said sothing similar during their post-race review.

Not only Deep Impact—Special Week and the others had echoed similar thoughts.

Drawing from these insights and analyzing the various data from the practice race, he already had a new special training idea.

But compared to his existing plans, he wasn't yet certain of its effectiveness.

So, turning back to Kitasan Black, he pointed towards the track and arranged their regular training for now.

In the practice race, although she had underperford in the first half, after the third corner, Kitasan Black clearly demonstrated the benefits of their recent special training on slopes.

The track's incline couldn't compare to vertical climbing, but after strengthening her vertical movent abilities, handling gentler slopes naturally beca easier.

But previously, she hadn't fully mastered the exact slope height they'd face at the Japanese Derby. Now was the ti to strike while the iron was hot, to use the gains from the practice race to build familiarity.

Arc positioning, gradient acceleration, airborne lead changes—these mastered techniques couldn't be neglected either; adjustnts had to be made to suit the upcoming race's specifics.

There were many tasks, but with about two weeks left before the Japanese Derby, there was more than enough ti.

Soon, her energetic "Hei-ya!" cries echoed clearly around the morning training ground.

...

Night fell upon the dance hall at Tracen Academy.

In the empty hall, Yasui Makoto laid down a square padded mat several ters wide, placing a peculiar chair at one corner.

The chair was unusual: the upper half resembled a normal high-backed chair with armrests, but its bottom half consisted of only a single leg.

A tal loop atop the chair's back was connected to a rope as thick as a wrist, which ran over a ceiling beam overhead.

Makoto took the other end, walked over to a pillar, and secured it through a pulley with a clasp. He locked it carefully in place.

Finishing his preparations, he beckoned to Kitasan Black, who had been watching curiously nearby, and pointed at the single-legged chair.

"Co. Sit."

"Eh...? Is it really okay to sit on this?"

Though hesitant, Kitasan obediently approached and sat down. Her feet touched the ground initially, then she slowly lifted her heels, gripping the armrests tightly, wobbling unsteadily.

"It's totally unstable, Trainer..."

"Exactly the point."

Makoto nodded slowly. "Simply put, this is a very special... type of training. Specifically aid at entering the [Zone]."

"The [Zone]?"

Kitasan Black's eyes imdiately brightened.

Makoto hadn't hidden that term from her before. She'd asked her senpai about it too, knowing that it allowed one to unleash power beyond their usual limits.

Yet neither Uma Musu who had touched it, nor trainers and scholars who studied it, knew exactly how to master it.

She hadn't felt disappointed by that.

Her Trainer had said before, even the strongest [Zone] wouldn't magically transform soone. As long as regular training was thorough, and strength sufficient, victory was possible without it.

But unexpectedly, the Trainer who previously said he didn't know how to grasp the zone now appeared utterly confident.

Not doubting her Trainer's abilities in the slightest, her excitent soared.

"Trainer, you've figured out how to master the [Zone]?"

"Master?"

Makoto froze montarily, then shook his head with a smile. "Not exactly."

"It's too complicated to explain—better to demonstrate. Do you rember the posture I taught you? Sit cross-legged on the chair, maintain balance, eyes forward."

Every morning and evening, she had been faithfully practicing those poses he taught her; it was already second nature.

At his words, she obediently crossed her legs, looking straight ahead.

anwhile, her ears swiveled curiously toward Makoto, trying to sense his movents.

Soon, familiar footsteps faded slightly, heading toward the pillar where the rope was tied.

The rope...

Wait a mont—could it be...?

Heart jolting, Kitasan instinctively glanced upward at the rope passing over the ceiling beam.

Before she could clearly see it, an intensely familiar sensation suddenly invaded her entire body.

As if her blood was drained away, a piercing cold rapidly spread from fingertips to torso, then shot up to her head.

Is this... the [Zone]?!

As the thought burst into her mind, her blood surged back, confirming her suspicion.

Just as Makoto said, the single-legged chair she sat upon was deliberately unstable.

Unstable—so the mont he released the rope, she'd instantly topple backward without warning, experiencing a sensation closely resembling the zone in that mont of falling.

"Trainer, what—?!"

Sorting out her thoughts, Kitasan jumped to her feet, eyes wide as she stared at Makoto.

"It's exactly as you felt."

Makoto nodded seriously.

"I've asked your senpai, and you too—and noticed that whenever the zone was ntioned, you all said one word."

"Fear."

"I can't participate in your kind of races, so I never fully understood why there was fear."

"This practice race reminded ."

"Why there's fear doesn't matter; I don't know how to teach you to master the [Zone] either."

"But I can teach you how to face fear."

"After all..."

His voice suddenly paused, gaze drifting toward the darkness outside the dance hall windows.

Perhaps I'm the one who understands fear best in this world...?

Lost in thought for a fleeting mont, he turned back, continuing casually as though nothing happened:

"In Extre Acrobatics, many performances occur at great heights, cliffs, deep seas."

"Falling fear, the visual cliff effect, suffocation..."

"These are fears no living creature can ever completely overco."

"This special training now mimics falling fear."

"If you adapt to this, no matter what happens during the Japanese Derby or future races, you won't be shaken."

"Because..."

He locked eyes with Kitasan.

"You'll have faced fear countless tis already."

Kitasan Black silently returned Makoto's gaze.

The instant of panic and blankness from monts ago, the sensations from the practice race and the Satsuki Sho—all replayed vividly in her mind like scenes from a movie.

Amidst those flashes appeared a towering figure, like a mountain-wall, whose back haunted her with regret and frustration.

Facing... fear, huh?

So at that ti, it wasn't just regret, not just frustration...

I was also feeling fear...?

Her fists silently clenched, fingernails piercing crescent-shaped marks into her palms.

She drew in a deep breath, exhaling slowly, then quietly lifted the fallen chair upright and sat down again.

"I'm counting on you, Trainer…"

"Again."