"Hurry up, pick up the pace! Thirty laps left! At that sluggish speed, I could reach the finish line and have a cup of tea before you got there!"
"No, I'm going to die… I'm seriously going to die… I'm the trainer! Why do I have to run too?"
"Precisely because you're the trainer, you need to work even harder! Were you planning to let Shirayuki exhaust herself half to death while you relaxed in the shade? How are you supposed to be a trainer when you're this weak?"
"Since when… did trainers have to be stronger than uma musume… Does this world… still have any justice left…"
"I am justice. If you have the strength to complain, use it to move your feet!"
"No, I really can't anymore…"
Fujiwara Chiya's legs gave out, and he collapsed flat onto the ground. There was only air leaving him, none coming back in.
Shirayuki, who was ahead of him, was doing slightly better.
But only slightly.
Sweat blurred her eyes until she could barely see the path in front of her. If Byerley had not been directing her, she would not even have known where she was running.
As for Byerley, only a faint sheen of sweat had appeared on her forehead. Her steps remained firm and powerful, showing not the slightest fatigue after running sixty thousand metres.
That was already a distance far beyond a marathon.
And the whole time, they had been maintaining a fairly fast pace. If this were placed on a human body, that speed would have been enough to collapse ten times over. Even an uma musume could not endure running like this!
Shirayuki's throat felt as if it were about to catch fire. Her entire chest burned with pain.
Something is definitely going to go wrong.
Training an uma musume like this is absolutely going to cause problems!
But Fujiwara Chiya had already boarded Byerley's pirate ship. Trying to get off now was far too late.
Byerley hoisted him onto her back and continued chasing after Shirayuki from behind.
"Your steps are slowing again! Don't stop!"
Even though she had also run sixty thousand metres, Byerley looked as if nothing had happened. She carried him on her back while striding forward with astonishing speed.
And that was not all.
Byerley had been giving loud, clear instructions the entire time. There was no sign of oxygen deprivation or uneven breathing at all.
"Byerley… are you really an uma musume…"
Fujiwara Chiya began to doubt her identity.
Based on his three years of experience as a trainer, Byerley's physical ability had already far surpassed the average standard of an uma musume. If an uma musume's stamina could reach five times that of a human, or even higher, then Byerley's stamina was at least two to three times that of an ordinary uma musume.
She was an uma musume among uma musume.
A two-thousand-metre race was not even enough to count as a warm-up for her. The same went for three thousand metres.
Fujiwara Chiya had realised it.
Modern uma musume race distances did not suit Byerley.
Only in the era when racing had first begun, when racecourses could stretch to seven thousand metres, would she have been able to fully display her ability.
She was an uma musume who had transcended her era.
But what she had transcended was not the future.
It was the past.
She should have been born in the age of the legendary Eclipse.
In the history of uma musume development, race distances had been reduced. From the original seven thousand metres, they had shortened to the current two thousand or three thousand. Compared with the first generation of uma musume, the physical ability of modern uma musume had clearly dropped by more than just one or two levels. If modern uma musume were made to run seven thousand metres at their usual speed, they would probably collapse from exhaustion right on the track.
And Byerley clearly possessed the strength of an ancient uma musume.
She was an existence on the level of Eclipse, far beyond anything modern uma musume could compare to.
Fujiwara Chiya had called her the reincarnation of Eclipse before, but perhaps she really was Eclipse herself. After all, in the history books, Eclipse had disappeared in the end. No one knew where she had gone.
Had she hidden herself away under another name?
Or perhaps…
"Is this level enough to make you quit? You are still far from absolute strength! If your goal is to become number one in the world, then overcome these difficulties!"
"I know becoming number one in the world isn't easy… but I never thought it would be this hard. Byerley… put me down. Your back is shaking me so much… I'm going to throw up…"
Byerley placed Fujiwara Chiya on the grass.
The man's stomach churned violently.
"You rest for now. I'll go train Shirayuki."
With that, Byerley chased after the half-dead white figure in the distance.
That afternoon, Shirayuki and Chiya supported each other as they returned to the academy.
Seeing the two of them in that state, Satake Mei was utterly stunned.
"Did you two go training, or did you go to war?"
"Training… Though calling it war isn't that far off either. The race is coming soon, so we tightened things up a little…"
"I understand that, but there still has to be a limit, right?"
Satake Mei looked at Shirayuki's clothes. They were torn in places, revealing the fair skin beneath.
"Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."
"Is that so… Remember to rest properly."
"I know, Mei. I'll definitely give everything I have to win the Arc. I absolutely won't let your hard work go to waste."
Fujiwara Chiya gave her a thumbs-up.
He still remembered the things Mei had said to him when she was drunk.
He would not let her efforts be wasted.
Mei had spent so long preparing for this Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe.
"Chiya…"
Satake Mei stared at him.
For some reason, she felt that the man in front of her was overflowing with charm.
"No! This is Chiya we're talking about. If I start liking him, wouldn't that completely mess up the generation gap…?"
Satake Mei murmured quietly to herself, then patted her cheeks.
"I'll always remember how much you've given, Chiya. If you run into any trouble, just come to me for help!"
"Actually, there is something I'd like your help with."
"What is it?"
"I want to find an authentic Japanese restaurant and eat some food from home."
"Okay, leave it to me. Even if there isn't one, I'll hire a Japanese chef for you!"
Satake Mei patted her chest, which was on the same level as Silence Suzuka's, and made her promise to Fujiwara Chiya.
After saying goodbye to Mei, Fujiwara Chiya brought Shirayuki back to the dorm.
He took off Shirayuki's clothes and checked her injuries.
…Nothing?
Fujiwara Chiya checked again and again.
Because she had been completely drained of strength, Shirayuki had fallen to the ground several times. The wild grass in the countryside was not like a training ground. No one maintained it regularly, and there were many stones on the ground. If she fell, it would be easy for her to get scraped or bruised.
Shirayuki's arms and thighs had definitely hit the ground.
But Byerley had kept urging them from behind, so she had not even had time to check the wounds. She had simply climbed back up and kept running.
Looking at Shirayuki's clean, fair body, Fujiwara Chiya picked up the training clothes that had been torn by stones. The tears were jagged and uneven.
For her body to avoid injury despite that, she was far too lucky.
Fujiwara Chiya marvelled inwardly as he took out a needle and thread. He sat beside Shirayuki and began mending the clothes.
There was only half a month left until the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe.
Everything would be decided in this one attempt.
Shirayuki lay on the sofa, propping up her cheek as she swung her bare feet.
She raised her head and looked at Fujiwara Chiya.
There was still mud on the man's face, and his clothes were stained with grass juice, leaving patches of green all over him. He looked terribly dishevelled.
Even so, the serious way he threaded the needle and mended her clothes made Shirayuki stare for a moment.
She had forgotten when it had started, but Chiya had also been affected by this body. His skin had become fairer and cleaner, and his face had grown more beautiful.
At first glance, he did not seem too different from before.
But the more she looked, the prettier he seemed.
It sounded a little like praising herself, but Shirayuki felt that her own appearance should count as rather excellent. At least according to her own sense of beauty, Chiya looked very good.
Watching him mend the clothes, Shirayuki sat up and had Chiya turn his back toward her. Then she leaned against him.
This period had truly been exhausting.
Neither of their two bodies had been idle at all.
When he was alone with himself, Shirayuki wanted to relax as much as she pleased. When other people were around, no matter what, he had to consider their thoughts. But once exhaustion reached a certain level, even listening to other people speak could feel tiring.
Sometimes, thinking about nothing, worrying about nothing, and simply being alone with oneself was the best way to relax.
Shirayuki wrapped her arms around Chiya's neck and gently nibbled his ear, quietly seeking the most comfortable way to comfort him.
You worked hard.
Shirayuki silently comforted herself.
She pressed close, brushing soft kisses against his ear and letting that warmth soothe the man in her arms.
For Chiya, this was the finest reward no one else could give him.
It was a reward from Shirayuki, the most perfect girl born from his own heart and imagination.
Hayakawa Tazuna could not do this.
Rice Shower could not do this.
Trêve could not do this either.
The more people he came into contact with, the more Chiya realised how important it was to have another half who could completely feel and understand him.
"The two of us have both had it rough…"
Fujiwara Chiya continued sewing the clothes, leaning his whole body back into Shirayuki's embrace.
At this moment, he freely enjoyed the time that belonged only to himself.