As soon as the Takarazuka Kinen draws to a close, the season shifts. For a horse girl, the summer heat is a natural enemy—but it is also a season of opportunity. It is the season of the Gasshuku: the training camp.
In Japan, the summer camp is the quintessential "training arc." Whether in fiction or reality, it is a stone-clad law of the universe that one must undergo a trial by fire in the summer to emerge stronger. How much growth a girl achieves here will inevitably dictate the success of her debut and her performance in the Twinkle Series.
"And that's exactly what it says right here, si!"
"YES!"
El Condor Pasa and Taiki Shuttle were beaming, currently obsessed with a book titled The Japanese Theory of Training Camps. King Halo snatched the book from them, wondering where on earth they had found such a thing—likely the back corner of the school library—and who could have possibly written it.
"Is this even a serious text?" King asked, leafing through the pages with a skeptical eye. "Though... I suppose I can't entirely deny the logic."
"Oh, come on, King-chan! Don't be such a spoilsport! The camp starts today!" Special Week chimed in, practically vibrating with excitement. "I was so restless I could hardly sleep, but I don't feel tired at all!"
"You need your rest!" King scolded. "Look at me—I'm a queen of composure. I got a full eight hours of beauty sleep."
Rampage sat at the wheel of a ten-seater Hiace, listening to the girls' boisterous chatter erupting from the back. In the passenger seat beside him sat Silence Suzuka, quietly watching the scenery blur past.
Normally, that seat would have belonged to the sub-trainer, Kamitsuru, but the van wasn't quite large enough to accommodate the entire team comfortably with all their gear. Consequently, Kamitsuru followed behind in his Toyota Supra, acting as the tail of the convoy. He wasn't alone, however.
"Well, at least she's quiet," Kamitsuru muttered, glancing at his passenger.
"ZZZ..."
Stay Gold—widely considered the most temperamental horse girl in Team Pleiades—was out cold in the passenger seat, snoring softly. She had claimed she wanted the "quiet car," but Kamitsuru could see right through her.
(She's sulking because Suzuka won the seat next to Rampage,) he thought with a wry smile.
The "Passenger Seat War" is a rite of passage for children, but it turns out horse girls are no different—especially when the one driving is Rampage. Everyone had raised their hand for "shotgun," and while Stay Gold had pretended to be disinterested, she had stayed in the rock-paper-scissors tournament until the very end. When Suzuka finally clinched the win, Stay Gold had simply scoffed.
"I don't care anyway. I'll ride with the sub-trainer. At least I'll get some peace and quiet."
To an outsider, Stay Gold might seem like the least respectful member of the team; she never used honorifics with Rampage and frequently threw insults his way. But in truth, she respected him immensely. She might even have been the one who liked him most of all.
I have to admire how he handles a roster like this without breaking a sweat, Kamitsuru thought.
Suddenly, he felt a light kick against the back of his seat. He wondered if Stay Gold was just tossing in her sleep, but a part of him felt like it was a deliberate rebuke—as if she were saying, "You only just realized that?"
Eventually, the convoy pulled up to their destination.
It was a villa owned by the Mejiro family. It looked like something plucked straight out of a high-end drama or an anime—vast, elegant, and imposing. Special Week, a country girl from a modest household, stood frozen with her jaw hanging open.
"This... this is the training camp?"
"I've stayed here before," King said casually. "As far as Mejiro estates go, it's actually on the smaller side."
"Smaller?!" Special Week squeaked. "King-san, what does that word even mean in Japanese anymore?!"
"Calm down, Spe-chan. It means exactly what it means."
Watching King—who was a genuine young lady of high society herself—try to manage Special Week's culture shock was a sight that made Rampage have to suppress a laugh. He cleared his throat to regain control.
"Alright, listen up! We're here for the camp. And since it's day one—we're playing! Get your bags inside, change, and get moving!"
"YAAAAAY!"
As the girls scrambled into the villa, marvelling at the luxurious interior, the two trainers stood together on the driveway.
"I'd heard the rumors," Kamitsuru said, looking at Rampage. "But are you sure about letting them play on the first day? I thought the start of a camp was the most critical time for discipline."
"The most critical thing is knowing how to switch gears," Rampage replied. "A camp isn't just 'grind, grind, grind.' If you want them to go all out during the training, they have to go all out during the play. If it's nothing but pain, they won't last. They need to build up their spirits first, then use that energy to fuel the real work."
"If you say so... but the other teams looked so... well, intense."
"They can do it their way; we do it ours."
Rampage didn't know how other teams operated, but this was the Pleiades way. His old team, Canopus, had started training from day one, but Rampage knew he couldn't replicate that. That only worked because Minamisaka was a genius at manipulation and Rampage himself was too high-energy to care.
"Besides," Rampage added, "we arrived a day earlier than the other teams anyway."
"Wait, we did?"
"Think of it as an 'acclimatization day.' It's better to let them adjust to the environment by having fun and getting a good night's sleep than by forcing them to focus on it."
"Is that... some wisdom you picked up from your overseas races?"
"Who knows?"
Rampage cut the conversation short as the girls emerged from the villa, now decked out in swimwear. He caught himself and quickly looked away—they were young women in the prime of their lives, and he didn't want to be the reason for any awkwardness or loss of focus.
"Alright! Everyone to the ocean! Taiki, I'm counting on you for the barbecue at lunch!"
"YES~!"
"Beach raid, go!"
The girls charged toward the sparkling water, Stay Gold included. For all her grumbling, she was never one to miss out on the fun. As Kamitsuru turned to follow them into the villa, Rampage grabbed his shoulder.
"Where do you think you're going, Kamitsuru-kun? You're coming to the beach too."
"What? Me? I mean, I brought trunks, but... isn't it a bit awkward? Won't they think it's weird?"
"Don't worry about it. This is a private beach owned by the Mejiros."
"Just how much of this country do the Mejiros own?!"
Rampage gave him a look as if to say, "Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to." Then, in a single fluid motion, Rampage grabbed the lapels of his own suit and yanked. With a comical whoosh, his clothes seemed to vanish, revealing he was already wearing swim trunks underneath.
Kamitsuru nearly tripped over his own feet. "How did you even learn to strip that fast?! And why did your hair suddenly change?! Are you actually picking a fight with the laws of common sense?!"
"What are you talking about? We're at the beach. You swim. It's simple."
"Don't give me that 'I'm the normal one' look! Fine! I get it! I'll go! Just let me change!"
"Hurry it up!"
Rampage waved him off as he headed for the sand. Kamitsuru let out a long, weary sigh and retreated into the villa to find his room. The villa seemed to have been designed with a "Three Goddesses" motif; as he changed, he found himself staring at a painting of the divine trio hanging on his wall.
"Haaah..." he muttered to the empty room. "Oh, Goddesses... why is he like this? Why is he such a chaotic mess?"
"—Well, that's just how my little lamb is, isn't it?"
Kamitsuru froze. "Did... did I just hear something?"
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