In late August, Chiba Prefecture lay beneath a thin sheet of gray cloud.
A fine drizzle drifted down from the sky, neither heavy nor light, as if the heavens were lazily sprinkling water. It was exactly the sort of annoying weather that made people hesitate over whether an umbrella was worth the trouble.
The grandstand at Nakayama Racecourse was packed.
That caught Akihara Tōru a little off guard.
After all, today was not a day for any upper-tier event.
There was no G1 race drawing the eyes of the nation, no famous star horse girls making an appearance, not even a G2 or G3 stakes race on the schedule. By all logic, on an ordinary race day like this, the crowd should have been fairly sparse.
And yet—
"It's lively, huh."
Tōru looked around. The stands were crammed with spectators. There were middle-aged men in suits, stylish young couples, even fervent fan groups waving support flags.
Some were studying the race card in their hands, some were enthusiastically discussing predictions with the people beside them, and others were peering through binoculars, their attention fixed on the track.
So this was the everyday atmosphere of a racecourse?
As expected, horse girls really did command an extraordinary level of attention in this world.
Tōru sighed inwardly.
Come to think of it, this was his first time at a racecourse as a trainer.
Back when he had been in the training program, he had watched plenty of race footage and analyzed mountains of data, but that had all been from behind a screen. It felt completely different from being here in person.
The air was thick with the mixed scent of soil and grass, laced with the damp freshness of rain. The track in the distance gleamed wetly under the drizzle, and every now and then staff members hurried past under umbrellas, busily making pre-race preparations.
Meanwhile, Tōru stood at the very edge of the rail, dressed in a raincoat.
It was a perfect spot. The view was excellent, letting him clearly see every detail on the course. From the starting gates to the finish line, from the inner lane to the outer, nothing escaped his eye.
Its only flaw was—
standing there in the rain on a day like this was a little miserable.
By rights, as a trainer from Central Tracen Academy, he could have watched from the VIP room.
There, he would have had soft sofas, a crystal-clear big screen, professional commentary, and hot coffee with delicate pastries.
Compared with standing out here in the drizzle, that place was paradise.
But—
weren't the trainers who appeared in the anime always standing by the rail when they watched races?
Tokai Teio's trainer had done it. Mihono Bourbon's trainer had done it too.
Those iconic scenes—where the trainer shouted encouragement from the rail, and the horse girl, after crossing the finish line, immediately searched for her trainer in the crowd—
if he hid in the VIP room, how could he possibly recreate any of those legendary moments?
He knew full well that if he explained his reasoning aloud, people would probably think he was insane.
Even so, as someone who had transmigrated after watching the Uma Musume anime, he felt that this sort of ritualistic authenticity really mattered.
Especially after he had shouted, "Go, Urara!" during the final stretch of that last mock race, he had found his throat itching ever since.
Yes.
Today was Urara's debut race.
His assigned horse girl—the little pink-haired girl who was always smiling so brightly—would take the stage here for the very first official race of her career.
At that thought, Tōru's heartbeat quickened.
Truthfully, he was nervous.
Even though Urara's strength had undergone a qualitative leap thanks to their recent training and the benefits of friendship training.
Even though he had already prepared a meticulous race strategy for her.
Even though he believed with all his heart that Urara would win.
Still—
"There's no such thing as absolute certainty in racing."
No matter what, races were filled with variables.
Until the result came out, no one could say for sure what would happen.
"Haaah…"
Tōru drew in a deep breath, trying to steady himself.
Calm down.
Stay calm.
As a trainer, he had to remain composed.
Only then could he make the correct judgment when it truly mattered.
That said—
he glanced down at the race card in his hand, densely packed with information on every race scheduled for the day.
Unlike how the anime sometimes made it feel as though a racecourse only held one race per day, the reality was that there were at least seven or eight races daily, and often ten or more.
When he had first arrived in this world, that fact had genuinely surprised him.
After all, every race in the anime had been treated as if it were some grand, singular event.
A showdown of destiny. A battle watched by all.
It always looked as if the entire day revolved around just that one race.
But in truth, even the famous G1 races were no exception.
They were only one event among many held that day.
They were simply slotted into the most important times because of their prestige, attention, and prize value.
In overseas racing circles, they often went even further, grouping headline races together into major racing festival weekends.
For example, Japanese fans were strangely obsessed with the French G1 Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe. The weekend when it was held was even called "Arc Weekend."
At Longchamp, eleven graded races were run across those two days, including eight G1s.
Two days. Eleven graded races. Eight G1s.
That kind of density and quality was practically paradise for racing enthusiasts.
But enough of that tangent.
For Tōru, today there was only one thing that mattered—
Urara's debut race.
Her race had been scheduled as the fourth event of the day.
Right now, only the second race was underway.
There was still some time left.
Tōru folded the race card and turned his attention back to the track.
A group of horse girls were currently battling fiercely on the course.
Rainwater plastered down their hair, mud splashed across their racing uniforms, yet their eyes still burned hot and their strides remained firm.
This was the racetrack.
This was the stage upon which horse girls burned their youth.
As he was soaking in that atmosphere, he suddenly overheard a conversation nearby.
"To be honest, this year's rookies feel a little weaker overall than last year's."
"What made you say that all of a sudden?"
"Well, last year had a monster like Mihono Bourbon. Among this year's newcomers so far, I haven't seen a single horse girl with that kind of presence."
"So that's why you keep hanging around new horse races, waiting to witness another miracle?"
Tōru turned his head and saw that the speakers were two young men.
From their clothing and tone, they looked like veteran racecourse regulars.
"Still, there is one pretty interesting horse girl I've noticed lately."
One of them, a man wearing glasses, lowered his voice as he spoke.
"She hasn't officially debuted yet, but apparently her performances in training matches have been eye-catching."
"Oh? Who is she?"
"Her name was something like… Smart Falcon, I think?"
Tōru's ears twitched.
Smart Falcon?
Wasn't that one of the horse girls in Kurokawa Ayaka's team?
"Smart Falcon, huh? I've heard of her too. Apparently she's a newly signed horse girl on an A-rank team, and she's got serious ability."
"Yeah. And she apparently dreams of becoming a horse-girl idol too, plus she's got a bright, cheerful personality. A type like that racks up popularity fast."
"True. These days the audience doesn't only look at talent. They care about branding too."
The two continued chatting back and forth, clearly rating Smart Falcon highly.
Seeing how confidently they were talking, Tōru couldn't help but ask a question himself.
"You two sound like you know quite a lot about horse girls. Have you been paying attention to today's dirt-track newcomer race?"
Both men turned to look at him, giving him a brief once-over.
Wrapped in his raincoat as he was, Tōru didn't look like a trainer at all.
Only the lingering youthfulness of his face hinted that he was still quite young.
Still, in this world, it was hardly unusual for young people to be interested in horse girls, so the two didn't make much of his age.
"The dirt-track newcomer race?"
The bespectacled man raised a brow, sounding faintly surprised.
"There are people who actually came here specifically for that?"
"Why not?"
Tōru answered casually.
"Today's dirt newcomer race does have a few horse girls worth watching."
"Dirt, huh…"
The other man, who had dyed green hair and no glasses, shook his head with mild disdain.
"To be honest, dirt races have never really been valued much in Japan. Most horse girls with real ability choose turf. Dirt always feels kind of… second-rate."
That wasn't wrong.
In the modern racing world, turf was unquestionably dominant.
Whether it was the G1 level or the major high-purse graded races, the overwhelming majority were held on turf.
Compared to them, dirt races drew less attention and offered lower prize money.
A lot of people even believed that only horse girls who couldn't achieve results on turf would end up running dirt.
"But—"
The man with glasses changed tone, growing more serious.
"I personally think dirt racing has its own unique charm."
"Oh?"
Now Tōru was genuinely interested.
"Let's hear it."
"Turf races emphasize speed and technique, and the condition of the track doesn't affect things quite as much. Dirt is different."
The man pushed up his glasses and continued.
"Dirt racing tests power and grit more. Especially on a rainy day like this, when the track turns muddy, every step takes extra effort. That image of a horse girl forcing her way forward through splashing mud… it has a different kind of blood-boiling intensity."
"That's true."
The green-haired man nodded, apparently persuaded.
"When you put it like that, dirt racing does have its own appeal."
"And besides—"
The man with glasses lowered his voice again and smiled mysteriously.
"Today's dirt newcomer race really does have one horse girl who deserves special attention."
Tōru's ears perked up.
Here it comes.
He was ready to hear them say Urara's name.
After all, Urara's progress over the past while had been impossible to ignore, and people within Tracen had begun paying attention.
She wasn't famous yet, but among those in the know, discussions had already started about that horse girl whose improvement had been absurdly dramatic.
And yet—
"That horse girl was called… right, Hayate Shun'ei."
The bespectacled man named someone Tōru had never heard of.
"Hayate Shun'ei?"
Tōru blinked.
Who?
He had absolutely no idea who that was.
"You don't know her?"
The man with glasses looked surprised.
"Hayate Shun'ei is a rookie with quite a bit of buzz around her lately. Her mother was a horse girl who won multiple dirt stakes races in a row. And her performance in the selection trials was excellent too. An A-rank trainer even declared that she was certain to make a big splash in real racing."
"I see…"
Tōru's brows knitted together.
Hayate Shun'ei.
That name meant nothing to him.
But if she was really as strong as this man claimed…
"Looks like today's dirt newcomer race will be a good one."
The bespectacled man smiled.
"And with rain like this, plus a strong contender in the field, it should be even more exciting."
Tōru did not reply.
His gaze pierced through the veil of drizzle and fixed itself on the distant track.
Hayate Shun'ei.
A completely unfamiliar name.
Would she become an obstacle to Urara's victory?
Just as Tōru was turning that unknown variable over in his mind, a chime sounded over the loudspeakers.
"Attention, spectators. Race 4—the dirt 1000-meter newcomer race—will begin shortly. All participating horse girls, please proceed to the paddock for pre-race presentation."
It was time.
Tōru cast aside every distraction and focused entirely on the paddock.
The paddock was where horse girls were shown to the public and officials before the race so their condition could be assessed.
It was one of racing's long-standing traditions.
Before the race began, all participants would circle the paddock once, allowing spectators and professionals alike to observe and evaluate their condition on the day.
There was even a saying that true experts could predict the winner just by observing the paddock.
Of course, that was probably an exaggeration.
Still, there was no denying that the paddock revealed a lot.
How was the horse girl's mental state?
Was her body showing signs of discomfort?
Did she look confident? Or anxious?
Such things could often be read from their behavior in the paddock.
Tōru locked his gaze onto the paddock entrance.
Soon, the entrants began appearing one by one.
The first was a black-haired horse girl with a stern expression and measured steps.
The second was a brown-haired horse girl who looked slightly nervous, her ears twitching constantly.
The third—
"That's Hayate Shun'ei."
The voice beside him came from the man with glasses.
Tōru followed the direction of his gesture.
And then—
his brows furrowed.
She was a horse girl with overwhelming presence.
Her gray-white long hair gleamed coldly in the drizzle, and her sharp eyes seemed as though they could pierce straight through anything.
Her steps were steady and powerful, every stride placed with exact precision, radiating an aura of calm authority.
Her physique was robust, with clean, powerful muscle lines in her legs. At a glance, it was obvious she had undergone thorough and systematic training.
Whether judged by physical condition or mental composure, she looked like one of the strongest horse girls among the newcomer generation.
"Well?"
The bespectacled man asked smugly.
"I wasn't wrong, was I? Just from looking at her condition, you can tell she won't perform badly today."
Tōru said nothing.
He had to admit this girl named Hayate Shun'ei looked to be in excellent shape.
There was no obvious flaw in her posture or aura.
If one were judging solely by paddock appearance, she was absolutely a strong favorite to win today.
But—
"What about horse girl number four?"
Tōru suddenly asked.
"Number four?"
The bespectacled man looked down at his race card.
"Number four is… Haru Urara?"
He lifted his gaze toward the paddock again.
And then—
his eyes stopped on a flash of pink.
She was a small horse girl.
Her long pink hair was tied in a single ponytail, swaying lightly in the rain.
She was the shortest horse girl in the field, and standing among the larger competitors, she looked like a little rabbit that had wandered into a pack of wolves.
But—
at that very moment, she was smiling brightly and waving toward the stands.
That smile was so radiant it seemed capable of dispersing the gloomy rainclouds overhead.
Even in a tense pre-race moment like this, there wasn't the slightest trace of pressure on her face.
There was only pure, wholehearted delight.
"—!"
The man with glasses froze.
He had been about to comment on number four's physical condition.
But—
the moment he saw that smile, all his words died in his throat.
What kind of smile was that?
This was her first official race.
She was facing a field of opponents who all looked stronger than she did.
And yet she was smiling so happily.
So purely.
So… dazzlingly.
"This horse girl…"
The bespectacled man fell silent for a moment before finally speaking.
"How did I fail to notice her before?"
There was confusion in his voice, but also surprise.
"To be honest, physically speaking, she's clearly at a disadvantage. She's too small. In a short-distance dirt race, that usually makes it hard to assert yourself."
"But—"
He paused, still staring at that pink-haired figure.
"That smile… feels different."
Tōru heard that and the corners of his mouth lifted.
He knew.
Urara's smile truly was different.
It was the kind of smile that could infect everyone around her.
Wasn't that one of the charms of his Urara, future demon king and all?
"Friend, let me tell you a secret."
Turning toward the man with glasses, Tōru spoke in a low but certain voice.
"You just said that a small horse girl would have a hard time showing an advantage in a short dirt race, right?"
"I'll tell you the secret."
His gaze passed through the thin rain and settled on the pink figure still waving in the paddock.
"The winner of today's race will be number four."
"She'll prove that she's the true protagonist today."
-------
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