Fujimaru Ritsuka timed his exit perfectly. He waited until Oguri Cap's "Winning Live" performance ended and responded to her final wave before stepping away. Oguri had already turned to thank other fans, so she wouldn't notice his departure.
He also had a brief word with Double Bell Luster and the others, stating he had business to attend to and asking them to wait for him.
Hearing Ritsuka's arrangement, Le Glorieux felt tempted to toss him a playful, coquettish roll of her eyes.
"Business to attend to"? More like he saw a heartbroken Horse Girl and wanted to go "farm some affection points," didn't he?
Glorious wanted to tease him with: Trainer-san, just how many trainees do you actually have?
But the words that actually left her mouth were: "You really are hopeless, Trainer-san. Go on then, but come back quickly."
The petite blonde girl thought to herself: It's precisely because you are always so Horse-Girl-centric—always doing what needs to be done the moment it comes to mind—that I love you, Trainer-san.
If she were to stop him, wouldn't she be stifling the very radiance she loved about him? She would never do that. Besides, her primary motivation was the absolute confidence that: No matter who the rival is, I will see it through to the end and emerge victorious!
Noticing Ritsuka's movement, Fujimasa March felt a flicker of joy, but she quickly suppressed her emotions. She instinctively scanned the area and headed toward a less crowded spot.
She thought: Trainer, you should just keep your eyes on Oguri Cap. Someone like me...
A dark light flashed in March's eyes.
The race results had been out for a while, but she still couldn't shake the feeling of defeat. Oguri Cap was the champion, undeniable and absolute. The battle between her and Eperlan had been settled by a photo finish; she had lost to Eperlan by a mere nose, taking third place.
Ritsuka had planned her campaign route, devised a strategy for a surprise victory, and secured her a spot in the trial races. March felt she should have repaid him with a win. And she had come so close...
But in the end, she couldn't hold on.
Thinking of this, March quickened her pace.
The fans were still gathered at the winner's podium, chanting Oguri's name and hoping she would stay longer, perhaps give a speech. The rest of the Kawasaki Racecourse felt deserted by comparison. March walked briskly through the tunnel leading back to the resting area.
Away from the stage, she encountered almost no one. The crowds and flashbulbs followed the champion. Even she felt this was only natural; why would spectators cheer for a loser when they could celebrate the victor? She hadn't shown enough brilliance to command their gaze.
As she walked, March recalled the "prairie fire" she had witnessed:
At a certain point, she had held a brief lead. Just as she felt the rush of joy and prepared to maintain the advantage to offer the victory to Ritsuka, an inexplicable aura erupted behind her!
In a single breath, that aura expanded into something that seemed capable of swallowing the heavens and earth. It roared; it screamed; it sought to crush everything in its path!
March had felt it clearly—the aura was feral and scorching, as if she were being stalked by a legendary beast!
It made her skin crawl. She had desperately wanted to look back at Oguri's face, but she couldn't. This was a race; a single mistake meant losing. How could she waste her focus there?
March understood that the only correct option left was to flee! To flee past the finish line! To flee to a place no other Horse Girl could touch!
But the terrifying part was that the moment she thought of it and prepared to act, Oguri arrived.
The "Gray Monster" erased the distance between them, galloping toward the finish line with massive strides.
As they crossed paths, March saw the air itself twisting.
She saw black sparks spilling from the corners of the girl's eyes; she saw an aura like a tiger descending a mountain dissipating into the air!
She even saw that with every step Oguri took, she left faint, scorched marks on the solid track as if they had been seared by high heat. Even the rising dust carried an unnatural, burning warmth!
Even now, just recalling that scene made March's scalp tingle. She couldn't imagine any possibility of defeating that Oguri.
They weren't even in the same world!
Since Oguri Cap was already "off the charts," then... she really should step back, shouldn't she? A Trainer's energy is limited. She had no right to demand Ritsuka spend time and effort on her. Besides, Ritsuka had stated his goal long ago: he was going to Central to make the high-and-mighty elite feel the power of regional contenders.
What was Central like? March didn't know. She only knew one thing: Central races weren't "small-scale skirmishes" like the regions. A regional powerhouse might not even make a ripple in Central—let alone a common Horse Girl like her, who wasn't even a powerhouse.
March's pace didn't slow, and her back remained straight, but her lips were pressed tight. The images on the big screen, the cold numbers, and Oguri's terrifying form replayed in her mind. Every detail stung her eyes, her pride, and her self-esteem.
Turning a corner where cleaning tools were stacked, March finally stopped. She took a slow, deep breath and let it out with a tremble.
She clenched her fists and slowly released them. Using her cold fingertips, she pressed against her aching eyes, trying to force back the surging tide of bitterness.
I can't cry. Losing the race was due to a lack of skill. Being emotional won't solve anything. What I need is a review, an improvement, and harder training...
The voice of reason roared in her brain, but it couldn't dispel the pain hovering around her heart—a pain too deep for words.
Perhaps... it was because she heard the familiar, steady sound of footsteps echoing behind her.
It was Fujimaru Ritsuka.
March's heart cheered: It's the Trainer!
But she didn't turn around. She simply blinked hard, trying to clear her vision as much as possible. She was almost afraid to face him, even though she had already prepared a mask of calm.
Seeing that March had finally stopped, Ritsuka felt it was time to talk. He stepped forward but didn't rush. He maintained his previous rhythm; that way, if March wasn't ready, he could let her "escape" a little longer to adjust her mood.
He knew Horse Girls were proud. They didn't accept defeat easily and would often dwell on it. In such a state, advice was often half as effective as it should be. If the person was calmer and able to listen, things went much better.
March seemed to have calmed down; she didn't run away again even as Ritsuka reached her.
Ritsuka stood before her, looking at her calmly. His sharp gaze seemed to pierce through the composure she was struggling to maintain, seeing the fragility deep in her heart.
"March," Ritsuka said, "you've worked hard enough. In today's race, you did exceptionally well."
Ritsuka wasn't a "yes-man" bot; he always spoke the truth. Whether it was the Three Goddesses Alliance or other Heroic Spirits—even gods—they all knew his character and style.
But those words stung March's heart, leaving her feeling helpless.
"Trainer," March finally spoke, her voice a bit raspy. "I will compile the race review report as soon as possible. I'll perform a detailed analysis and reflect on my shortcomings..."
She spoke quickly, as if eager to fill the space between them with concrete, controllable "problems" and "solutions" to hide the emotions that couldn't be measured with data. She wanted Ritsuka to go back to Oguri Cap quickly.
A voice rang out in March's heart:
He is Oguri Cap's Trainer—the reliable guide who led the "Gray Monster" to the pinnacle of the regional circuit. He is also Eperlan's Trainer, helping a girl from Tokyo adapt to the environment and show her incredible potential. He is surrounded by radiant beings. And you, Fujimasa March? A "Third Place" who couldn't even reach the top of the regional circuit. A "loser" who calculated everything and still came up short...
What right did she have to take up his precious time and energy? It would be better for both of them to part ways now.
She was moments away from saying, "I'm fine."
But strangely, if she was truly fine and wanted him to go back, why couldn't she bring herself to say it?
"You've already done so well." This time, Ritsuka chose to be "rude" and interrupted her. He wanted his voice to reach her clearly. "To execute the tactics to that extent... you forced Eperlan to grit her teeth and give her all. You forced Oguri to break through her limits and master a brand-new power."
"March, your strength and reliability cannot be defined by a mere ranking," Ritsuka said, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking at her with absolute sincerity. "I daresay that without your aggressive intervention, neither Eperlan nor Oguri would have surpassed their limits."
To make her feel better, Ritsuka didn't even use the other girls' nicknames. He didn't want March to feel that "sad, thick wall" between them due to a difference in familiarity.
Likewise, he didn't say "don't be sad," nor did he say "you'll win next time." He simply validated her effort and everything she had accomplished.
Then, Ritsuka patted her shoulder and sighed. "But it's good to vent your feelings this way. If you don't settle your heart now, you might not get another chance in the coming days."
Ritsuka made a playful, mischievous sound. "I've already thought of quite a few revenge plans for you, March. We're going to be very busy."
Ritsuka's rhetoric was simple and direct, but sometimes, words needed to be exactly that—especially when validating someone.
These words became a key, gently turning the lock on the gate deep in the girl's heart—the gate that suppressed all her grievances and bitterness.
March finally looked up, meeting Ritsuka's gaze. In that calm deep blue, she saw no disappointment or blame. She didn't even see the pity for a "weakling" that she had subconsciously feared.
But this understanding was more unsettling than any blame, making her fragile defenses crumble.
She instinctively took a half-step back, her heel hitting the wall. She tried to avoid his direct gaze—to avoid the warmth that seemed capable of embracing all her weaknesses.
I can't depend on him, a sharp voice rang out in her mind. I shouldn't drag him down. The thought brought a surge of inexplicable pain and self-loathing.
Just as she tried to speak again, Ritsuka decisively stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. He stopped her from retreating and cut off the self-isolating words she was about to say.
March's body went stiff, her face filled with shock. She could feel Ritsuka's warmth clearly; in this warm embrace, she felt a profound sense of peace.
"I..." March opened her mouth, but the sound caught in her throat, turning into a heavy sob. In that moment, the mask of calm she had been forcing cracked in a thousand places. Her vision blurred completely.
Clutching Ritsuka's lapels, March murmured, "Trainer..."
The tears she had been holding back finally broke through her last defenses, rolling down her cheeks. It was no longer a silent weep, but a release after extreme suppression. Her voice was filled with defeat, self-blame, and bitterness. "Even after calculating so much... practicing for so long... I still lost... I couldn't even get second... I... I..."
She was sobbing so hard that her logic and language shattered, leaving only the most primal expression of grief. Her once-straight back bowed slightly, and her shoulders shook with her cries.
"It's okay. We'll work hard together. Where there's a will, there's a way," Ritsuka continued to comfort her, gently stroking her back.
This simple gesture completely broke the last of March's stubbornness. She could no longer maintain any distance. She stumbled forward a step, burying her forehead against Ritsuka's chest.
Ritsuka let her hold him, his other hand lifting to pat her back in a steady, patient rhythm. He said no more, simply providing this silent, all-encompassing embrace so that Fujimasa March could cry her heart out and shed the heavy, self-imposed burden she had been carrying.
Neither of them knew that, at some point, Maruzensky—wearing her burgundy dress—had been standing quietly not far away. She had heard everything.
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Musume: Oguri Cap Grand Order (131 Chapters – Ongoing)
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