Uma Musume Pretty Derby: Ten Meters Chapter 71: Uma Musume Pretty Derby: Ten Meters [71]

"Ohhhh—Kitasan Black! Kitasan Black!"

Under dazzling lights, soaring music, and electrifying cheers, the black-haired girl at the center of the stage, dressed in a striking performance outfit, launched into her song and dance routine.

"Wow! Kita-chan is shining so brightly!"

Waving the glow sticks she'd prepared in advance, Special Week jumped excitedly in place.

"It's true! No matter how many tis I've seen it, the Winner's Stage is always so thrilling!"

"Yeah, it really is…"

As Yasui Makoto spoke, he imdiately realized his voice was completely drowned out by the deafening cheers around them.

He smiled unconsciously, waving the glow stick Special Week had lent him and joining the energetic crowd.

As Kitasan Black's dancing figure reflected in his eyes, Yasui vividly recalled the mont she crossed the finish line earlier. The two images overlapped instantly.

Since the race had ended, that single mont at the finish line had replayed constantly in his mind.

Of course, there was joy.

But even more, there was an emotion he hadn't anticipated:

An intense sense of danger.

It had been far, far too close.

When Kitasan Black crossed the line, Unyielding True Steel had been practically breathing down her neck.

Standing dozens of ters from the finish line, the visual angle had made Yasui fear—for a long mont—that the two had finished simultaneously.

For a fraction of a second, he'd even suspected Unyielding True Steel had been faster.

After his pulse-racing anxiety faded, he suddenly realized sothing surprising: In the past few months, as Kitasan Black steadily grew stronger, his own perception of the Twinkle Series and Uma Musu had quietly transford.

Before, he'd rely known the Twinkle Series as the most popular races in the world and that the Uma Musu were global idols. He'd never deeply considered why.

At first, after getting past the initial novelty of this unique world and its extraordinary beings, he'd simply accepted this new reality out of pragmatism.

He'd always been that sort of person.

Born into a family of trainers and Uma Musu, he'd felt content to beco a trainer himself and live a steady, uneventful life.

When he'd co to Tokyo and signed a contract with Kitasan Black, his only thought had been: as her trainer, he needed to take responsibility seriously.

She aspired to beco a legendary Uma Musu like her senpai, to et everyone's expectations, and more. His job was simply to help her achieve all those dreams as best he could.

Yet now—more accurately, at the mont he saw Kitasan Black cross the finish line—Yasui finally understood the genuine appeal of the Twinkle Series and the Uma Musu themselves.

They were far too pure—too wholeheartedly earnest.

On the racetrack, each of them had only one thought: To give every ounce of themselves to win, to sincerely respond to every single supporter cheering them on.

Previously, he'd supported Kitasan purely out of a sense of duty. He hadn't consciously noticed this "support."

Or rather, subconsciously, he'd thought his daily diligence in learning, training, and strategizing was already enough.

But that wasn't quite right.

Through these months of dedicated effort, he'd found that his support for Kitasan Black had gone beyond re duty or rational calculation. Deep inside, a more genuine desire had erged:

He truly wanted to do everything possible for her.

He wanted Kitasan Black to win every single race in the future, fueled by his own efforts.

Of course, such an achievent would be unprecedented—no Uma Musu had ever managed it.

But perhaps this was what true, wholehearted support really ant.

...

The day after the Spring Stakes. Kitasan Black's ho in Hachioji City.

Standing beside a garden lawn covering thousands of square ters, Yasui Makoto and several Uma Musu stared in astonishnt.

After a stunned silence, a tall Uma Musu with long silver-gray hair burst out incredulously:

"Are you serious?! Kita-chan, you said your house was pretty big, but…"

She turned toward the black-haired girl next to her, who was chuckling sheepishly.

"But isn't this way too huge?! You could hold the Arima Kinen here!"

"Gold Ship-senpai, that's definitely an exaggeration. Besides…"

Scratching her head and laughing awkwardly, Kitasan Black quickly corrected herself seriously:

"I an, I've never raced at Nakayama Racecourse before, but after going there the other day, I think it's actually pretty different from my house."

Hearing that, Gold Ship paused, then laughed and waved dismissively.

"Oh, Kita-chan, don't be so serious! I was just amazed at how enormous your ho is."

This "Gold Ship-senpai" was, of course, Gold Ship, who had won the Hanshin Daishoten yesterday.

After her own victory, just like Kitasan Black, Gold Ship had perford on the Winner's Stage.

Once both stages finished, they'd gotten back in touch.

Gold Ship had been entirely serious about the celebratory dinner she'd ntioned, even reserving a famous restaurant in Chiba.

However, when discussing arrangents, Kitasan Black had insisted that since her senpai had supported her so much—and since Gold Ship had won her own major race—it was only proper for Kitasan herself to host the celebration.

Moreover, after yesterday's race, her grandfather had personally congratulated her backstage and expressed his desire to hold a banquet in appreciation of Trainer Yasui and the senpai who'd helped her.

She'd suggested hosting everyone at her ho instead, emphasizing that her house was big enough to easily accommodate any number of guests.

Since none of these Uma Musu were the type to fuss, and they'd known Kitasan Black for so ti already, they'd readily agreed without hesitation.

And thus, the astonishnt Gold Ship displayed now.

Daiwa Scarlet and Vodka quickly recovered their composure.

"Co on, Gold Ship. If you really think about it, there's nothing to be so surprised about."

Patting Gold Ship's shoulder, Vodka chuckled. "You already know, Kita-chan's grandfather is Japan's most famous musician, and her dad and uncles are also prominent musicians."

"In a family like hers, a house several tis bigger than this wouldn't be unusual at all."

"Right, Daiwa?"

"Exactly. Besides, I briefly checked the student profiles before," Daiwa Scarlet continued with a smile. "This place is just one of Kita-chan's residences. She only stays here often because it's convenient for school and racing."

"No exaggeration—wherever Kita-chan races in the future, she'll probably have hos about this size nearby."

"You've underestimated our adorable kouhai."

Gold Ship huffed indignantly.

"Underestimated? ?! I'd never underestimate Kita-chan! I just never even imagined sothing like this, okay?"

She paused dramatically, eyes suddenly brightening. Flexing her right arm proudly and pressing her left hand onto her bicep, she stared eagerly at the lawn ahead.

"Fine then! Since we have this much space, and it looks perfectly runnable, let's go for a quick sprint!"

"I'll count down from three, then we all go together!"

"Three…"

"Okay, I'm off!"

Having said she'd count to three, Gold Ship dashed forward mischievously after just the first number, laughing wickedly as she ran.

"Eh? Hey, Gold Ship! That's cheating!"

Shaking her head with amused exasperation, Vodka quickly stretched her shoulders and took off after her.

"Get back here! You're a chaser—what good does sprinting at the start do you anyway?!"