Uma Musume Pretty Derby: Ten Meters Chapter 40: Uma Musume Pretty Derby: Ten Meters [40]

After asking the question, Kitajima Saburou suddenly sighed before Makoto could answer.

"Ah, forgive . Perhaps that was unfair. After all… G1 races aren't sothing one simply wins by saying they will."

The old man's tone turned thoughtful as he continued speaking, sowhat nostalgically:

"You know, Yasui-san, I've actually been a fan of the Twinkle Series for decades now. Back when I was young, whenever I got tired from practicing my songs, I'd listen to race broadcasts or dig through discarded newspapers just to read race reports. When I eventually had enough money, I'd buy tickets to watch races live. But as my career took off, ironically, I found less and less ti to attend races."

He chuckled quietly to himself before continuing.

"Many kids from my siblings, my friends, students, and even my apprentices eventually made their debuts. They competed in plenty of races, yet as their elder, I rarely managed to see them run live. Sotis I'd only learn about their results long after the race had ended."

His voice softened with a note of wistfulness.

"So, believe —I understand how incredibly difficult it is to win even a single graded stakes race, let alone a G1."

Makoto silently nodded in agreent.

In the Twinkle Series, races awarded prize money to the top five finishers, with greater sums for higher placents. For instance, Kitasan's debut victory had earned her around 6 million yen, while today's win brought in 7.2 million yen.

But these races weren't graded stakes.

Take Daiwa Scarlet and Vodka, for example. Scarlet's retirent race had been the prestigious G1 Arima Kinen, with prize money exceeding 180 million yen. Vodka's most renowned victory had been the Tokyo Yushun (Japanese Derby), one of the Classic Triple Crown races, with prize money around 190 million yen.

These were the kinds of races known as "Graded Stakes."

Naturally, higher prize pools attracted stronger competitors and resulted in more thrilling competitions. In all of Japan, tens of thousands of races occurred annually, yet graded stakes—G1, G2, and G3 combined—totaled just around 300.

Simply participating in graded stakes made an Uma Musu stand out among hundreds; winning even the lowest-ranked G3 race could dramatically transform the fortunes of both the Uma Musu and her trainer, to say nothing of the fa and prestige that would follow.

Needless to say, winning these graded stakes wasn't easy. And winning at the pinnacle—the G1 level—was unimaginably difficult.

"So, asking if Kitasan could reach G1 was silly of ," Kitajima-san concluded gently. "You must think I've grown senile."

He gave a self-deprecating yet comforting smile, then gestured discreetly. A middle-aged man in a black suit approached respectfully, handing Makoto an elegant, dark business card.

"This is my card," Kitajima explained, seeing Makoto's curious expression. "If you encounter any difficulties during training, show this card to Ohno Shoji. They'll do their best to accommodate your needs."

Makoto accepted the card politely, though puzzled.

He vaguely rembered the na Ohno Shoji, a business group that had recently ventured into the Twinkle Series, sponsoring Uma Musu in races. However, whether due to poor luck or inexperienced managent, not a single Uma Musu backed by Ohno Shoji had won a graded stakes race yet.

It seed Kitajima-san had connections with them, perhaps as one of their investors. Such arrangents were common in the music industry, where many famous musicians had business interests.

Yet Makoto couldn't help wondering why Kitasan had never ntioned this kind of backing. He decided against asking outright and instead nodded respectfully.

"Please rest assured, Kitajima-sensei. I'll give everything I have to properly train Kitasan. I promise not to disappoint you."

Hearing this, Kitajima smiled approvingly.

"Just hearing you say that puts at ease."

He waved apologetically.

"I'm sorry, but at my age, standing too long can be tiring. Besides, you must have other matters to attend to. If you'll excuse …"

With a polite nod, Kitajima turned and began slowly walking toward the Winner's Stage, his security entourage quickly moving into place behind him.

After so distance, the middle-aged man who had handed Makoto the card stepped forward quickly.

"Father, your opinion on this trainer…?"

Kitajima paused, then resud walking thoughtfully.

"He's exceptionally composed, especially for soone his age. Honestly, that caught off guard," the elderly man reflected slowly. "Initially, when I learned such a young trainer had been assigned to Kitasan, I won't deny having had doubts."

"But firstly, training decisions belong to professionals. We family mbers shouldn't interfere unnecessarily. Secondly, the Academy Chairwoman herself called to recomnd him; I trust her judgnt deeply, and I had to respect that. Thirdly…"

He sighed gently.

"You've seen the outcos with the other children in our family. It's not as if we haven't tried providing them with outstanding trainers, yet the results…"

"Frankly speaking, it's enough for our children just to participate. As for how well they perform—well, that's up to fate. Besides, renowned trainers are often older, stricter, and more stubborn—too much like , I suppose."

"With Kitasan being such an energetic child, how could I bear to see her life consud by nothing but running at this age? I'd rather see her grow up happily and cheerfully. Racing achievents—well, as I said, that's up to fate."

"At least, with a younger trainer, she'll have soone closer to her own age to talk to, and she won't beco overly serious or somber before her ti. And though he's young, his scores during trainer qualifications aren't fake. He's steadier than most his age, too—he didn't lose composure upon eting , unlike so who either babble nervously or flatter incessantly."

"When I ntioned G1 races and graded stakes, his gaze didn't even flicker. Even if youthful arrogance contributes to that confidence, it's infinitely better than timid hesitation."

He paused again thoughtfully, nodding slowly.

"I like him. Let Kitasan continue with him. We'll see how things unfold from here."

"I understand. Everything will be arranged according to your wishes, Father," replied the suited man—Kitajima's son—with a respectful nod, then added hesitantly, "But… if he takes Kitasan back to the hot springs again… and that song causing an uproar recently…?"

Kitajima stopped abruptly, this ti turning and pausing briefly in contemplation.

"It's fine," he decided firmly. "His parents have always been respectable, honest people, and he was raised well. He's consistently hardworking, never showed questionable habits. If I had to na a flaw, perhaps it's that he tends to distance himself from peers his age. But that's hardly serious—talented people often have their quirks."

"As for the hot springs inn—haven't you already made arrangents? Just don't overdo it, or we might scare Kitasan instead."

"And regarding that song: issue a polite warning if necessary, but handle it discreetly. Just ensure there's no trouble for the Academy or URA."

Kitajima shook his head gently, sighing one last ti:

"To think he also possesses such musical talent… Ah, what a sha. Still, it's better he stays fully devoted to training Kitasan for now."