(What is this...? Is this the power of a 'prestigious' lineage?)
If my score was a 70, Kiryuin's was a 95. Near perfection.
Her trainee, Happy Meek, had entered a 1600m Mile race on turf for her debut. She'd taken an early lead, and before the other girls knew what hit them, she'd turned it into a blowout, finishing five lengths ahead of second place. I knew she'd done well, but this was on another level. Conduct, training, results—she had aced every category.
Sure, it was just one win, and there was no guarantee of future success. But by winning her debut, she had already leaped ahead of eighty percent of the other trainers in our year.
"This is... incredible. As expected of you, Kiryuin-san."
I praised her sincerely. Kiryuin reacted so strongly that if she were a Horse Girl, her ears would have been twitching uncontrollably.
"Do you... do you really think it's incredible?"
"Yeah, really."
"Truly?"
"Truly. It's amazing."
I felt like a smartphone AI would have had more variety in its compliments, but I was being honest. Though, I'll admit, I was holding back a little.
(I feel like if I praise her too much or get too close, she's going to come charging into my personal space at full speed...)
She had this air about her—as if she'd follow me anywhere if I just said it was "for the sake of the girls" or "because we're friends."
(No, that's ridiculous. What a rude thing to think.)
If I'd said that out loud, I'd deserve a slap. To make up for my stray thought, I tried to change the subject as I handed back her papers.
"You know, since the bonuses are coming in, why don't we go out for a drink? You've helped me out a lot; let me treat you."
I meant it—half as small talk, half as a genuine thank you. Urara's performance in her debut was only possible because of the joint training with Happy Meek. I figured a nice dinner or a few drinks after work would be a fair trade. Maybe a casual izakaya—even if it didn't quite fit her "refined" image.
"Eh?! I... I think we should get to know each other much better before we do something like that!"
"...? Really?"
I thought grabbing a drink with a colleague was pretty standard. Apparently, in Kiryuin's book, I hadn't even reached "buy me a beer" status yet.
Wait, I realized. We are opposite genders. Maybe she was being cautious about going out 1-on-1. Mentally, I was old enough that I viewed her and Urara more as students or younger siblings than romantic interests, but she didn't know that.
"Ah—I didn't mean just the two of us. I figured we'd invite the other rookies, depending on their schedules."
"That's even higher difficulty!" she squeaked.
(Wait, what?)
I blinked, trying to process that. I didn't think she was lying, but apparently, "socializing with a group of colleagues" was a boss-level encounter for her.
"Just out of curiosity... what would count as 'getting to know each other better'?"
Kiryuin looked thoughtful for a moment, then spoke up timidly.
"Maybe... going to karaoke together?"
I sat there, puzzled. Is karaoke—a tiny, enclosed, private room—really "lower difficulty" than a crowded restaurant? Personally, having food and drinks to talk about makes an izakaya way easier. Karaoke with just two people of the opposite sex felt like a much bigger leap to me.
"I see... Well, sorry for bringing it up so suddenly. I know Happy Meek's training is about to get intense, so you'll be busy. Forget I asked."
I'd find another way to thank her. Probably for the best.
With the June debut behind us and a loss on the books, our next goal was a "Maiden Race"—the race for those who haven't won yet.
There are plenty of opportunities for Maiden Races, but I was facing a logistical headache.
(Why the hell are there no Dirt Sprints for an entire month...)
This was the problem with Urara's specific aptitude. She was a Dirt Sprinter. There were Maiden Races in early July, but if you missed those, the next available slot for her distance and surface wasn't until late August.
I had to choose: do we register immediately to try and move up the ranks, or do we hunker down and train until the end of August?
"What do you think, Urara?"
I asked her once she joined me after school. She tilted her head with her trademark sunny smile.
"I'm ready to run whenever!"
"You aren't injured, and your motivation is high... tough call."
It was only the start of July, but registration windows were closing fast. And even if I applied, there was a chance she'd be cut if too many girls signed up.
(Based on her debut, I think she can win as long as she doesn't run into another monster like Happy Meek. Might as well throw her name in the hat.)
If she got in, she'd run. If she got bumped, we'd wait for August. Urara was in peak condition. She hadn't let the debut loss get to her head, and her eye—which had swollen up from the kicked-up sand—had healed in two days.
"Alright. Let's aim for the Maiden Race next week."
"Next week? I get to race again already?!"
"We might get bumped by the lottery, but that's the plan. You okay with that?"
"Yup! All right! I'm getting all tingly! I'm gonna do my best!"
Seeing her excitement, I couldn't help but chuckle. She was reliable in her own way. She might lack the cutthroat "hunger" for victory other Horse Girls had, but her mental fortitude was unbreakable. To be able to lose and come back smiling is a talent in its own right.
(Even if her drive to win is thin, she's still a Horse Girl. The instinct to be first is in her blood. My job is just to make her so strong that she can win while having the time of her life.)
The results would follow. Luck might have screwed us once, but I was going to make sure Urara reached a level where she could beat anyone.
(Well... in a Dirt Sprint, anyway. A Mile race might still be out of reach.)
Once she had more stamina, we could look at Miles. For now, we had to break out of the Maiden bracket. I sent her off to warm up while I filed her race registration.
The following week.
I stood at the edge of the track, watching the Maiden Race unfold. As the pack rounded the bend, a single sentence escaped my lips.
"...So, that's how it's going to be."
There, in the thick of the dust, was Urara. But she wasn't just running.
She was being "marked"—closely trailed and boxed in by the other girls. They were treating her like the biggest threat on the field.