Satono Crown was genuinely curious about Yasui Makoto.
She had watched Kitasan Black's debut and her second race closely, even quietly listened to her family's trainers analyzing and dissecting the performances afterward.
All the trainers at ho had concluded that if Yasui's debut strategy had been intentional, he was either a prodigy or being advised by an incredibly seasoned trainer behind the scenes—perhaps his father or another experienced ntor. After all, ordinary young trainers wouldn't dare try such bold tactics right out of the gate.
If Yasui's debut race displayed his boldness, then the second race demonstrated his ticulousness.
The strategy Kitasan used in that second race wasn't complicated at face value: shadow the opponent best at setting the race's rhythm, then accelerate slightly earlier.
The issue was, simpler tactics were often harder to execute perfectly.
With a dozen or more Uma Musu running each race—each with vastly different strengths and weaknesses—the slightest change in circumstances could dramatically shift the outco. Anyone could analyze a race after it ended, but the real challenge lay in predicting and preparing accurately beforehand.
Yasui had done exactly that.
Before the race, he had apparently recognized Satono Gallant's remarkable adaptability to the track, boldly instructing Kitasan to follow closely. Then, with impeccable timing, he accurately judged precisely when to start Kitasan's final sprint—almost exactly at Gallant's peak acceleration limit—ultimately winning by less than a second.
At least, that was one interpretation Satono Crown had overheard from her family's trainers.
The other interpretation was simpler:
Both the debut and second race results were pure luck.
This explanation quickly gained popularity among her family's trainers and eventually beca their unanimous conclusion.
The reason was straightforward: Yasui Makoto was just too young, too inexperienced. Actually, it was better to say he had no experience at all.
Especially when it ca to Gallant's adaptability—the Satono family had spent significant resources and ti with veteran trainers and advanced tools to identify it.
How could an eighteen-year-old boy with only a regional trainer father and a mother who wasn't an outstanding Uma Musu, without any renowned ntors or special connections, independently reach the sa sophisticated conclusion?
Thus, Yasui's na eventually disappeared from their discussions.
Yet, compared to her family's trainers, Satono Crown felt an inexplicable hunch deep down—that perhaps the first explanation might actually be closer to the truth.
She wasn't confident, however, since she agreed that Yasui seed far too young and inexperienced compared to her family's established trainers.
If anything had nudged her to reconsider, it was only a few brief monts she'd personally observed, along with the odd stances and unusual training thods that Dia-chan had casually ntioned—little hints subtly suggesting the young trainer might actually be extraordinary.
Perhaps that's why Satono Crown couldn't help but subtly pry for details from Kitasan.
But since everyone in the Twinkle Series was a potential rival, training and strategies were naturally guarded secrets. Openly asking would be inappropriate.
After casually confirming Yasui's whereabouts, Satono Crown smoothly changed the subject.
"By the way, Kita-chan—I heard from Dia-chan you planned to play gas together this weekend, but now you've got sothing else going on?"
She intended only to chat lightly.
"Ah? Yeah, sothing ca up." Kitasan nodded openly, not hiding anything.
"Trainer said he was very satisfied with my training progress these past few weeks, but honestly, I still feel a bit lacking myself. Even though he told it's fine to relax during rest days, I still want to run a bit more."
"Run more?" Surprised that her friend brought up training herself, Satono Crown beca curious. "So, you won't be going ho this weekend?"
She assud Kitasan intended to practice at the school track.
"No, not here." Kitasan shook her head, smiling gently. "I just want to jog casually, really. Consider it...like a review session. Even Sensei told us to review properly after class, right? So, it shouldn't conflict with Trainer's instructions. I think the space at ho should be enough."
Satono Crown nodded knowingly.
She knew that Kitasan Black had lived mostly with her grandfather since childhood. That elderly gentleman owned a rather spacious estate in Hachioji, west of Fuchu.
It spanned roughly 1,500 tsubo—around 5,000 square ters, or about the size of a soccer field.
She had visited several tis before and recalled a few sizable gardens. Recently, she'd heard they'd been renovated extensively since last year. A large area of the gardens had recently been cleared into lawns—no doubt to give Kitasan space to run freely.
"You're really putting in the effort, Kita-chan." Satono Crown smiled encouragingly. "Sounds like you're determined to win the Spring Stakes?"
"Of course!" Kitasan nodded firmly, eyes sparkling with determination.
"There's only one week left until the Spring Stakes. I still have a lot to prepare, but as long as I have Trainer and my senpais, I'll definitely be ready!"
"Good. Then I look forward to seeing you victorious."
Extending her fist confidently, Satono Crown grinned.
"Don't miss the Satsuki Sho, Kita-chan!"
Tapping fists lightly, Kitasan flashed a similarly confident smile.
"Count on it. We'll definitely et again in the Satsuki Sho, Crown-chan!"
...
Two days later, en route to Tracen Academy.
Approaching the last intersection on his motorcycle, Yasui suddenly paused in surprise.
Just ahead, standing beside the crosswalk, his black-haired Uma Musu was enthusiastically gesturing, holding her small notebook, explaining sothing with great animation to a blond-haired foreign woman who was listening carefully.
Is she…giving directions? Wait, that woman looks familiar…
Narrowing his eyes, Yasui twisted the throttle slightly, bringing himself closer.
"…Go to race… and go to race, and race and race… Do you understand?"
Hand frozen mid-motion to remove his helt, Yasui quietly turned his gaze toward the traffic light, deciding firmly to pretend he was just an ordinary passerby.
"Ah! Trainer! What a coincidence!"
Surprised yet thrilled, Kitasan imdiately recognized Yasui and waved excitedly.
Then she eagerly turned toward the foreign woman again.
"Race is my trainer-san! His na is Yasui Makoto!"
"Oh! I forgot! Sorry, sorry! …My na is Kitasan Black! Nice to—"
Finally unable to hold back any longer, Yasui sighed deeply.
"…Kita-chan, please stop. Just...stop right there."
Pulling his motorcycle to a halt and removing his helt, Yasui struggled to suppress a pained smile, turning apologetically toward the foreign woman.
"My na is Yasui Makoto, and she is Kitasan Black. Like you, I'm also a trainer at Central Tracen Academy, and she's one of our rookie Uma Musu. It's a pleasure to et you, Trainer Kris."
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