When it ca to Tamamo Cross, she too was an old acquaintance of Kitahara Sota.
Like most Uma Musu Kitahara had crossed paths with, Tamamo was a child from the countryside. Just like Oguri Cap, she had been promoted from a regional Tracen to the main campus through special exception.
Only, unlike Oguri Cap, Kitahara didn't share a deep bond with Tamamo.
They had t briefly, he had helped her once, and then they went their separate ways. Altogether they had only spent a few days in each other's company. No contact afterward—just a passing acquaintance.
Even so, Kitahara rembered Tamamo far more vividly than most.
The reason was simple: Tamamo Cross's family was crushingly poor.
The countryside was never affluent, but even among the poor, Tamamo's family stood out as destitute.
How poor?
When Kitahara went to help them, he didn't even take the three carrots hanging on the doorfra. On the contrary, he left behind a portion of food he'd collected while helping other families.
But poverty wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was that within such poverty was born Tamamo Cross—an Uma Musu with exceptional talent.
On the surface it sounded like fortune. With such talent, she could change her family's fate. After all, one win at a top race could award enough prize money to lift her household out of poverty overnight.
But that depended on her being able to grow strong enough to reach that stage.
As Kitahara had said to Grass Wonder two weeks ago, being an Uma Musu was an exorbitantly expensive pursuit.
Training equipnt, nutrition, clothing, shoes, horseshoes, racewear—everything cost money.
The greater the talent, the higher the demands: better facilities, richer diets, proper footwear and attire, even custom-tailored decisive outfits.
But Tamamo's family couldn't even guarantee daily als.
When Kitahara first stepped into their ho, he imdiately understood: their greatest problem was simply poverty. But he himself had no solution—he was already struggling to cover Eclipse's als, much less feed another family.
All he could do was solve the imdiate issue they'd asked for help with, leave them so food, and move on.
So, despite her natural brilliance and sheer effort, Tamamo only managed to gain admission to a regional Tracen.
And yet, compared to her household, the regional Tracen was heaven. Conditions there, though inferior to the main campus, at least gave her room to grow.
She fought her way upward, eventually earning a place at the main Tracen Academy.
But there was a problem. She and Oguri Cap were in the sa year, both awaiting their debut races in the coming sester. No competitions yet ant no inco.
And even if prize money ca later, the scars of her poverty were still etched into her body.
"Too small an appetite compared to the average Uma Musu. Growth delayed from years of poor nutrition. Lingering issues from training in bad shoes and with subpar equipnt…"
Komata Haji, being less experienced than Kitahara and only recently assigned to Tamamo, hadn't yet spotted these things. She only felt Tamamo's condition seed "off." So she reached out to Kitahara—the "wish-granting machine" who had once known Tamamo—to take a look.
Kitahara, with his past knowledge and current sharp eye, needed only a glance at the training Tamamo was doing to identify her problems.
But that wasn't all.
According to Haji, Tamamo's ntal state had been faltering too.
Her family had taken on debt to support her racing dream.
Thanks to the Three Goddesses' cultural reverence, her village hadn't forced them into high-interest loans. The debt was just from neighbors, with no pressure and no interest, only good faith: Pay us back once Tamamo makes it big. Just treat us to a feast or two soday.
But Tamamo's parents were honest, simple folk. Even without collectors breathing down their necks, owing money gnawed at their conscience.
And though they never complained to Tamamo, she was no fool. Growing up poor had made her prematurely mature. She knew.
The thought that her training ant more expense on her parents weighed on her heart, to the point of dampening her training spirit.
"I tried what I could," Haji said, "I applied for poverty aid from the Chairwoman on her behalf. But Kitahara-san, you know as well as I do… for an Uma Musu with top-tier talent, the resources she needs can't possibly be covered by a re stipend."
If she could, Haji would've poured her own money into Tamamo, buying her the gear and food she needed, and just waiting for Tamamo's winnings later to pay her back.
But Haji herself only earned base pay in earlier years as an assistant trainer. Her current tantou was just a mid-tier runner with modest winnings, most of which went ho. She couldn't bankroll Tamamo.
She wasn't telling Kitahara this to ask him for money—she was just venting to a trusted friend about a difficult case.
But Kitahara fell into deep thought.
Truth be told, he had always liked Tamamo. Before joining Tracen officially, he'd even considered her as a possible tantou.
Because she was safe.
Not the kind of "safe" that ant silly or easygoing like Special Week or Oguri Cap. No—her safety could be summarized in one phrase:
She was normal.
In fact, almost too normal.
She'd complain about why the cafeteria was still self-serve when they had gluttons like Oguri Cap and Special Week eating them bare.
She'd mutter that Tracen Academy felt more like a matchmaking agency than a school.
She even once ribbed Symboli Rudolf for her bad habit of making awful puns.
If not for the worry that Tamamo's presence might draw Super Creek's suffocating motherly love into his team, Kitahara would have seriously considered recruiting her.
And beyond being "normal," Tamamo's personality was exactly his type.
Despite hardship, she never once blad her birth. She stayed cheerful, optimistic, grounded.
Because of her upbringing, she was mature, considerate, capable of handling housework, looking after others, understanding feelings.
Compared with the little tyrants he'd had to wrangle, Tamamo made Kitahara feel like crying in relief.
So after a brief pause, he resolved he couldn't just leave her be.
At the very least, he'd lend her whatever support he could. Maybe it would even soothe the wounds left on his soul by all those "little ancestors" he'd been saddled with.
But unlike Manhattan Cafe, Tamamo already had a trainer.
She'd already promised Haji she'd sign with her officially after her debut. Kitahara couldn't just snatch her away. He needed Haji's consent to get involved at all.
So he looked at her seriously.
"Haji-senpai, if you don't mind… could I help out a little as well?"
Sen… senpai…
If Haji were an Uma Musu, her tail would've been wagging furiously.
The truth was, the reason she got along so well with Kitahara and visited him so often wasn't only to dodge Super Creek or trade trainer knowledge—it was also because of how he treated her.
Because of her childlike appearance, everywhere she went, people treated her like a kid.
Tracen's work culture was relaxed, more friends than hierarchy, except for legends like Kudou Kazuya.
But for Haji, this stripped her of all authority.
She was a senior, experienced and competent, and yet… her appearance scread middle schooler.
Even newcors had trouble respecting her. Often they treated her as a peer—or worse, a child.
She didn't hate them for it—she knew they ant no harm. She'd long grown used to it.
But as an adult woman nearly thirty, she too had needs. She wanted respect. Trust.
And then ca Kitahara Sota.
Even after seeing her with his own eyes, he earnestly, sincerely called her senpai.
Especially when he'd entrusted his team to her temporarily—every "Haji-senpai" from his lips was steeped in respect and trust. It had nearly moved her to tears.
For years, because of her face, not even Uma Musu treated her like a real trainer. She was a mascot, at best.
But Kitahara was different. He didn't care about appearances. His voice when he called her senpai was real, and he'd relied on her genuinely.
This—this was the junior she'd always dread of.
So Haji cherished Kitahara's respect deeply, never hesitating to support him. She wanted him to lean on her more, to let her look after him, so she could savor the feeling of being treated like an adult—of hearing "senpai" again and again.
So this ti, even though Kitahara was asking to step into her case—sensitive, since Tamamo hadn't debuted or signed yet—Haji agreed instantly.
Why?
He called senpai!
What better reason could there be?
Tantou could be replaced. But a junior who respected and trusted her this sincerely? Tracen had only one.
Besides, Haji wasn't entirely confident she could raise Tamamo alone. Kitahara had already produced two supernovae, kept Agnes Digital on his team, and his feats spoke for themselves.
If Tamamo chose to follow him one day, Haji wouldn't be able to object.
Kitahara, however, had no such designs.
He simply thought Tamamo was a good kid worth helping, and he owed Haji favors.
Besides, his team was already packed. Eight Uma Musu now, possibly ten soon if Cafe and Sunday Silence were included. That was enough.
He wouldn't accept more, even if Tamamo asked.
And Eclipse herself seed less enthusiastic about new teammates lately. Without her subtle encouragent, Kitahara had no fear of sudden additions.
So with that decided, Kitahara asked Haji to stop Tamamo's training and bring her over.
"It's been a while, Tamamo Cross-san," Kitahara greeted warmly.
Though truthfully, he'd noticed her many tis since Oguri joined—always hovering nearby, never stepping closer.
Now, face to face—
"Ah, um, Kitahara-sensei… hello…"
To Kitahara's surprise, the usually brash and optimistic Tamamo looked nervous. Her expression stiff, her eyes darting, her words halting.
Strange… I never experinted on her, and we only spent a few days together… Why is she acting like Nice Nature after a treatnt session?
He wasn't wrong. Tamamo's tail was trembling behind her.
And the reason…
Once, after Kitahara's reputation spread, so began to regard him as the Three Goddesses' emissary. So even set up offerings to him. One town had nearly enshrined him in a temple before he personally stopped it.
That town wasn't far from Tamamo's ho.
And while the public display had been halted, private devotion had only grown stronger.
Her entire region quietly revered him as a divine envoy. Many secretly set up small household shrines to him.
Tamamo's family was no exception.
And Tamamo herself, after hearing the unbelievable stories about him, had co to believe he was indeed the representative of the Goddesses.
She'd even whispered little prayers after exams, asking "Lord Kitahara" to bless her rank.
But what made her truly uneasy was…
During those hardest tis, when her family was strapped for money, they had secretly sold off so of the food and items Kitahara had left them.
They had turned his kindness into cash.
Tamamo didn't know his temperant well, and feared he might resent them. Even if he didn't, she herself felt it shaful.
He had given freely, and her family had sold it off.
So though she'd longed to thank him when she heard he'd joined Tracen, her guilt kept her frozen. She prayed silently that the Goddesses would forgive them.
She had hoped to repay him later, after she debuted and earned money, by bringing gifts and apologies.
But before she could, Kitahara had co to her.
Though she knew from his reputation he likely didn't care, her nerves surged.
Did he co to demand an explanation?
Yet after his explanation, her eyes widened.
"You an… you were asked by Trainer to help ?"
"Mm, more or less."
Kitahara paused, then added lightly,
"But really, it's not like she asked . Haji-senpai has looked after many tis. As her junior, I can't just keep taking—I should do sothing to repay her."
He shifted all credit onto Haji.
So any gratitude Tamamo felt would flow to her, not him.
Had he seen Haji's face at that mont—beaming, radiant—he might have wondered what on earth she was thinking.
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