January in Kasamatsu wasn't particularly cold.
The air bit, but it didn't freeze. Located at the junction of the continent and the Pacific, Japan's winter was manageable. Daytime temperatures hovered around nine degrees Celsius. At night, it dropped to two. A quick warm-up was all it took to get the blood pumping.
The morning meeting had concluded. By two in the afternoon, Fujimasa March and Yuzuki stood together on the Kasamatsu training grounds.
"Here, I've drafted a short-term training plan for you."
Yuzuki handed a notebook to Fujimasa March.
"Starting tomorrow, follow the morning routine exactly as written."
He had spent his entire lunch break finalizing the details. Once the goals were set this morning, the rest was just math and physiology.
Fujimasa March flipped through the pages, her brow furrowing. "Trainer, why isn't there a morning practice every single day?"
"I'm assigning different workloads for different days," Yuzuki explained, his voice calm. "The focus shifts. Morning runs are meant to increase your weekly mileage and maintain your baseline. But on days where I've scheduled high-quality training, a morning run would just sap your energy. It would ruin the quality of the main session."
Unlike the Central Tracen Academy, Regional race schedules were erratic. Some happened at night. Central Graded Stakes were almost always on weekends.
Yuzuki had intentionally stacked the high-intensity sessions on the weekends. There was a method to the madness. If a race fell on those days, her body would already be primed for peak performance.
Training the day after a race was often more effective than waiting.
'Muscles don't just hurt because you worked hard,' Yuzuki thought. 'They hurt because they're rebuilding.'
In medical terms, it was Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness. It happened when the body was pushed through a new movement or a sudden spike in intensity. It was the fundamental requirement for [𝗦𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻].
The pain usually appeared twelve to twenty-four hours after exercise. It peaked between twenty-four and forty-eight hours. By the third or seventh day, it vanished.
Because of this, high-quality training on a Sunday usually went smoother than pushing it off until Monday. This back-to-back schedule acted as a buffer. It prevented the Uma Musume from overtraining on day one by reminding them that a long run loomed on day two.
Yuzuki's philosophy was simple. He wanted the maximum potential gain from the minimum amount of training. He wasn't interested in who could suffer the most. He was interested in who could grow the fastest.
He laid out the weekly structure in the notebook:
[𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘆: 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵 𝗼𝗿 𝗥𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗗𝗮𝘆]
[𝗧𝘂𝗲𝘀𝗱𝗮𝘆: 𝗤𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗧𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴]
[𝗪𝗲𝗱𝗻𝗲𝘀𝗱𝗮𝘆: 𝗠𝘂𝘀𝗰𝗹𝗲 𝗘𝗻𝗱𝘂𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗧𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴]
[𝗧𝗵𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗱𝗮𝘆: 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴... 𝗦𝗸𝗶𝗽 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗳 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗲𝗱]
[𝗙𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗮𝘆: 𝗠𝘂𝘀𝗰𝗹𝗲 𝗘𝗻𝗱𝘂𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗧𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴]
[𝗦𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗱𝗮𝘆: 𝗤𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗧𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴]
[𝗦𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘆: 𝗟𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗗𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗗𝗮𝘆]
Quality training meant [𝗣𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗥𝘂𝗻𝘀], [𝗟𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗥𝘂𝗻𝘀], [𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗮𝗹 𝗧𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴], and [𝗥𝗲𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗧𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴].
These were professional theories from his past life. In this world, the training of Uma Musume hadn't reached this level of scientific precision yet.
Yuzuki refused to schedule high-quality sessions two days in a row. Constant high-intensity work was why so many Uma Musume broke down. The damage was invisible at first. It hid in the joints and tendons, only revealing itself during the brutal pressure of a real race.
He needed consistency. If his trainee ended up in the infirmary because he pushed too hard, he had failed.
'I still remember the trauma of those failed training screens in the game,' Yuzuki mused. 'If only I had a system. I wouldn't even need training boosters. Just a health potion or two and we'd be unstoppable.'
He shook the daydream away. Reality required a different kind of effort.
"Fujimasa, go warm up. We're starting the first session."
"Yes, sir!"
Fujimasa March jogged toward the track, her movements quick and eager.
After she finished her routine, she returned to his side, breathing steadily.
"Run a two hundred meter sprint," Yuzuki commanded. "I want you at your usual race pace."
"Understood, Trainer."
She didn't ask why. She just ran.
Yuzuki watched her tear across the dirt. He clicked the [𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗽𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵] as she crossed the mark.
"14.5 seconds," he muttered. "That's her normal output. But look at her... it's all brute force. No technique. No finesse."
It was the curse of the Regional Uma Musume. Without elite trainers, they relied on raw power to lap the track. They ran until they were tired, then they ran some more. It was a miracle any of them succeeded.
Even the worst Uma Musume in Central had better form than this.
Oguri Cap had only escaped Kasamatsu because her physical constitution was a freak of nature. Kitahara had helped, but only to a point.
Yuzuki had been at Kasamatsu for two months. As an assistant, he had focused on the basics... stamina, strength, explosive power. He hadn't touched their running form yet.
That changed today. Fujimasa March needed to stop fighting the ground and start using it.
His plan was clear. For the next two months, they would hit the local circuits in Kasamatsu and Nagoya. They would treat these races as live-fire training. They needed to build capital. They needed a reputation.
By May, they would be ready for the Minami Kanto circuit.
Kasamatsu was a pond. If they stayed here, she would never grow into the monster she was meant to be.
In the world of Regional racing, two places held all the prestige. Monbetsu was the king of the debut year, home to a hoard of Graded Stakes for newcomers.
But the overall peak was Minami Kanto.
Ooi, Funabashi, Urawa, and Kawasaki. Among them, Ooi was the undisputed titan.
And at the heart of it all lay the ultimate challenge. The most prestigious, the most lucrative, and the most brutal series in the Regional world.
The [𝗦𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗵 𝗞𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗧𝗿𝗶𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗖𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗻].
The [𝗛𝗮𝗻𝗲𝗱𝗮 𝗖𝘂𝗽].
The [𝗧𝗼𝗸𝘆𝗼 𝗗𝗲𝗿𝗯𝘆].
The [𝗝𝗮𝗽𝗮𝗻 𝗗𝗶𝗿𝘁 𝗗𝗲𝗿𝗯𝘆].
To win those three was to stand at the top of the world.
The Path to Central
If Fujimasa March could claim the South Kanto Triple Crown, the path to Central would be paved in gold. She would finally stand on the same turf as those monsters at Central Tracen Academy.
But the clock was ticking.
The three legs of the South Kanto Triple Crown were spaced only a month apart. There was no room for filler races. It was already January. He had four months to mold her into something legendary.
Between the training and the travel, the schedule was suffocating.
"It is time to turn up the heat," Yuzuki murmured, his eyes narrowing as he watched her. 'She needs to be more than fast. She needs to be unbreakable.'
"Trainer? What are you whispering about?"
Fujimasa March trotted back from the track, her chest heaving slightly. She had just finished a two hundred meter sprint. "How did I do?"
Yuzuki looked down at the display.
[𝗧𝗶𝗺𝗲: 𝟭𝟰.𝟱𝘀]
"Fourteen point five," Yuzuki replied. "You are nowhere near your ceiling. I am increasing the intensity starting now. It is going to be brutal. I hope you are ready for the pain."
Most Uma Musume in Kasamatsu were content to rot. They lacked ambition, drifting through their careers with half-hearted efforts. Fujimasa March was the exception. She had been obsessed with the pursuit of power since she could walk.
Instead of fear, her face lit up with a fierce, hungry light.
"I would not have it any other way!" she barked, her fighting spirit surging. "Trainer, push me. Grind me down. Do whatever it takes to make me the strongest!"
~✦~ End of Chapter ~✦~
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