The break's over, and it's time for the middle-distance races. Honestly, these are probably the main event. You've got runners who can handle long distances, others built for miles, and some who can do both. Short-end middle-distance types, long-end ones, even hybrids, from what I hear.
I only know two Uma Musume in this race: Air Groove and Tamamo Cross. Air Groove had an aura of raw talent from the moment I saw her. She's probably the favorite here. Not that I know the others, so maybe that's why I'm betting on her.
Tamamo Cross is a wildcard. She's got skills, no doubt, but I can't predict how they'll show up. Still, being tight with Oguri means she's likely a big deal.
"Tamamo's up next," Oguri says, popping a candy in her mouth. "Can't cheer too loud, but I'm rooting for her in my heart. Fellow gray-haired buddy, you know."
"Why are you even here?" I ask.
"Hm? Am I not supposed to be?" she says.
"Not that it's a problem…" I trail off.
"Then it's cool if we watch together, right?" she says.
For some reason, Oguri's parked herself next to me, sucking on a candy. Ever since I gave her one, she's been weirdly chummy. Hope she's not the type to follow shady strangers for snacks.
"Got any standout Uma Musume yet, Trainer?" she asks.
"Overall, or just this race?" I say.
"Overall," she says. "Only two categories done, but I bet you've got some picks."
"Short-distance? Sakura Bakushin O or Maruzensky," I say. "Mile? Fujikiseki and you."
"Yeah, your leg strength is unreal," I say. "Shoes trashed after 1600m? That's G1-level power. You'd need custom, heavy-duty ones to keep up with those legs."
"Geez, that much praise feels good but kinda embarrassing," she says, blushing.
Don't blush—you're making me feel awkward.
"It's starting soon," Oguri says. "Get ready, Trainer."
"I'm already set," I say. "And I'm not your—ugh, forget it."
The races were a mixed bag—some real highs and lows. It's 2000m, so it's middle-distance but not too extreme.
First race, Silence Suzuka took first. Unreal. She led from the start and never slowed down. It's not just stamina—her ability to maintain speed lets her stretch her legs forever. She'd be a nightmare in any race.
Second race was Tamamo Cross. Oguri wasn't hyping her for nothing. That come-from-behind sprint on the final straight was jaw-dropping, especially from the outside. Huge impact.
Third race, as expected, was Air Groove. More like, she was leading by the fourth corner, and it wasn't even close. Fastest time I've clocked so far. She's got serious training potential.
Race 1: Agnes Tachyon
Race 2: El Condor Pasa
Race 3: Daiwa Scarlet
That's the rundown. Air Groove stood out the most. Her win was flashy but calculated—strong and stylish.
"How was it, Trainer?" Oguri asks.
"Middle-distance? Air Groove or Silence Suzuka," I say. "If I had to pick, Air Groove."
"Mmph, no Tamamo?" Oguri says, disappointed. "That's a shame."
"Her final straight was wild, but she got carried away mid-race," I say. "She recovered, sure, but that's a red flag. Something set her off, and that's a fatal flaw."
Getting carried away burns extra energy. In short races, maybe it's fine, but in mile or middle-long distances, it can be a death sentence.
"Did you see my run?" Air Groove says, striding over.
"Hey, Air Groove, nice work," I say. "I'm no poet, but that was a hell of a run. Best in middle-distance, hands down."
"Of course," she says. "As the Empress, I run to embody every Uma Musume's ideal. This was nothing."
That's why she feels so strong. The pressure she's under must be insane—way beyond what other Uma Musume face.
"What are you staring at?" Air Groove snaps. "Got something to say? Spit it out."
"Nah, it's just… hard to put into words," I say. "Your presence, I guess. It's… beautiful."
"What?!" she sputters. "W-what are you saying, you idiot?! Who just flirts with someone out of nowhere?!"
"I said it's hard to explain," I say. "I just meant your vibe—your way of being—is beautiful."
"Then say that first, you moron!" she yells. "Don't be so vague!"
Did I really say something that bad? Her tail's wagging, though… Is she mad or embarrassed? Probably hiding a blush.
"Trainer, I was happy when you praised me earlier too," Oguri says.
"Just keep sucking on your candy," I tell her.
I'm not sure why Air Groove chewed me out earlier, but nothing else happened after that. Middle-distance races are done, and now we're heading into the final long-distance category. Hayahide, Creek, Brian, and Rudolf are running, but I'm also spotting some other standout Uma Musume. Those two gray-haired girls, especially.
The one with a purplish tint has a balanced, athletic build—classy, maybe even aristocratic. The other gray-haired one… what's she doing? Playing Go? Shogi? Something with a board, anyway. Before a race? Shouldn't she be strategizing?
"Trainer, for long-distance, Creek's your pick," Oguri says. "Unlike me, she can handle crazy long races."
"Wait, hold up," Air Groove cuts in. "If you're talking distance, the President's just as good. No, she's better—she can handle any distance, but long-distance is her forte. Hikigaya, keep your eyes on her."
"Thanks for the tips, but why are you two still here?" I say. "Got nowhere else to be?"
"I made a promise with you," Air Groove says. "But it'd feel wrong to check your notes before the President's race. I'm waiting here until she's done."
"I don't have a specific reason," Oguri says. "But being around you reminds me of home. Feels nice."
Why?! You could feel at home anywhere else! There are plenty of spots to watch from!
You're way too friendly just because I gave you candy! I don't even know your hometown! Those candies were for mental focus, and now they're gone!
"What's wrong, Trainer?" Oguri says. "Sighing like that? You know, sighs make happiness run away."
"Then I've probably lost years of it," I say. "It's not new. I'm fine."
"Don't look so glum before the next race," Air Groove says. "It's bad for the runners."
"Yeah, yeah, my bad," I say.
Time to hit the vending machine. Can't lose focus now.
"I'm grabbing drinks," I say. "Want anything?"
"…You sure?" Air Groove asks.
"One drink, yeah," I say.
"Then I'll take you up on it," she says. "Sports drink for me."
"Something with the most volume," Oguri says.
"Knew you'd say that," I say. "Wait here."
At the vending machine, I'm floored. "Tressen Academy has 2-liter bottles? Wild. Okay, 2-liter cola for Oguri, sports drink for Air Groove. No Max Coffee here, so for me…"
"Watch out!" a voice yells.
I turn toward the voice, and a shoe smacks me right in the forehead. Worse, it's the sole with the horseshoe—clean hit.
"S-s-s-sorry!" the girl stammers. "The shoe felt off, so I shook my leg, and it flew forward…"
"Ugh, it's fine," I say, rubbing my head. "You in the mock race?"
"No, Rice isn't racing," she says. "If Rice ran, it'd cause trouble for everyone…"
What's that supposed to mean?
"Sorry!" she says. "Um, um… I'm Rice Shower. Nice to meet you."
"Hey, I'm Hachiman Hikigaya, rookie trainer," I say. "I don't wanna pry, but what's this about causing trouble?"
"When Rice is near someone, they always end up unlucky," she says. "So… Rice doesn't race. I don't want to make anyone else unlucky."
"So, that shoe hitting me was part of that?" I ask.
"…Yeah," she says. "That's why—""That's not your fault," I interrupt, patting her head. "It's just a fluke. If it's happened a ton, maybe there's something to it, but don't sweat this one."
"…Ehehe, you're the first to say that," Rice says, giving a shy smile. "Thank you. That made Rice happy."
Rice Shower—Rice—flashes an awkward but genuine smile. Something about her makes me want to train her, in a different way.
"Sorry for the wait," I say, handing over the drinks. "Here's your stuff."
"You took forever," Air Groove says. "Finally… wait, why's Rice Shower with you?"
"Ran into her by chance," I say.
"Um, Trainer-san, Rice is fine, you should focus on the race—""Didn't I tell you to stop that?" I cut in.
"Auu…" Rice whimpers.
"I'm curious why you're not racing without a trainer, but that's your business," I say. "I won't push. But you agreed we're square after the shoe thing, right?"
"Y-yeah, but… is that really enough?" she asks.
"Yup, that's plenty," I say.
"What's going on?" Oguri asks.
I explain the situation—how Rice's shoe nailed me, and how she wanted to make up for it. I said letting me pat her head settled it. Pure self-indulgence on my part.
"My head hurts," Air Groove says. "Are you an idiot?"
"Call me an idiot, fine," I say. "But her hair's nice to pat. Looks wild, but it's surprisingly soft." I pat her head again.
"Auu~" Rice squeaks, her ears twitching and tail swishing.
Yup, her ears are perky, her tail's fluffy—she's embarrassed but not hating it.
"Trainer's good at head-patting," Oguri says.
"Got practice with my little sister," I say. "Maybe that's why."
"Then pat my head next," Oguri says.
"Keep sucking your candy," I say.
"You said that earlier!" she protests.
Oguri's natural vibe is terrifyingly disarming.
"Air Groove would probably yell at me if I tried," I say.
"Obviously," Air Groove snaps. "It's not something you just do."
"Not planning to," I say.
I can already hear her calling me "fool" or "moron."
"Um, Trainer-san," Rice says. "What should Rice do?"
"How about timing the race for me?" I say.
"Y-yeah! Leave it to Rice! Rice will do her best!" she says.
"Good kid," I say. "This one's definitely a good kid."
"You're definitely an idiot," Air Groove says.