After returning, Fujiwara Chiya carefully read through Satake Mei's project proposal. Summed up in one sentence, it was this: within two years, win major European international Grade 1 races, including France's Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, and bring Japanese Uma Musume onto the world stage.
As he looked over the long list of races laid out on the page, Fujiwara Chiya's brows furrowed tighter and tighter.
They're not seriously expecting me to carry this out, are they?
Even though two years was not a short amount of time, and certainly long enough for an Uma Musume to grow into her peak, every single race on that list was the kind of race where winning even one would earn endless glory. Compared to those, G2 and G3 races looked almost like tutorial levels.
Was this proposal handed to the wrong person? He was just a rookie trainer, not some veteran with over ten years of experience. Even veteran trainers might not be able to pull this off.
At present, Gold Ship, Rice Shower, and the others still had a noticeable gap between themselves and world-class races. They would need at least another half year of training before they could even step onto that kind of stage. Before that, they needed at least one graded-race victory under their belts to be worthy of it. Otherwise, they would just go there to be stepping stones for someone else.
A graded race...
That had originally been his final goal, and now it had suddenly turned into just a smaller milestone. This project was jumping way too many levels at once.
Fujiwara Chiya felt completely outmatched. He knew his current ability was nowhere near enough to support those girls in winning on the world stage. His knowledge was not enough. His experience was not enough either.
"Trainer Chiya."
The sound from outside cut through his thoughts. He set down the project file.
"Come in."
A woman with shoulder-length hair, side-swept bangs, and blue-green eyes stepped into the room, her gaze fixed on him.
Fujiwara Chiya immediately stood to greet her.
"Trainer Fumino."
At his invitation, Nase Fumino sat down on the sofa.
"Did you receive that Arc project proposal too?" she asked bluntly, skipping any pleasantries.
"I did. You too?"
"Yes. And not just me. A lot of trainers got it."
Hearing that, Fujiwara Chiya let out a sigh of relief. He poured her a cup of coffee.
"I thought I was the only one."
Being suddenly handed such a heavy responsibility had nearly made him stop breathing. So he was just one among many.
"Since it involves the URA training center, it would be too risky to leave it all to you alone."
Not just risky. Ninety percent chance of total disaster. The Director really is willing to let me join this thing. What am I to her, her son or something? Why is she looking after me this much?
"How many people are participating? Do you know, Fumino?"
"Not exactly. But I'd guess at least ten trainers." Nase Fumino took a sip of her coffee.
"Ten? That many!?"
"That's what I came to tell you." Nase Fumino licked her lips lightly. "Tracen plans to select the strongest and most promising Uma Musume to take part in the Arc. The conditions are pretty strict."
"Go on."
"A graded-race win is the minimum requirement. Every trainer has to go through the L'Arc selection race."
Fujiwara Chiya stared at the unfamiliar term.
Nase Fumino explained, "That race is not part of the Twinkle Series. It's a separate race specifically established to determine which Uma Musume are better suited for overseas campaigns. If a trainer gets eliminated there, then they lose the right to participate in the Arc."
"So before even taking part in the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, there's another race to decide who gets to go..." Fujiwara Chiya rubbed his face. "Isn't this year's competition a little too intense?"
Nase Fumino nodded without denying it.
So that meant he would have to race against her too.
"Of course." Nase Fumino set down her coffee. "If they really hold a selection race, then we'll definitely meet there as opponents."
He had only just started to get his footing in the Twinkle Series, and now there was another mountain waiting.
"There won't be any older horse year runners in it, right...?"
"Probably not. This project lasts two years. No one would choose an older horse year Uma Musume for it. By the time the race came around, her peak would already be gone."
Those trainers would likely all start with newly enrolled Uma Musume and raise them from scratch. After all, by the time the real event arrived, the next class would certainly be even stronger than the one before.
"That's good."
At least everyone would be starting from roughly the same line.
Still, the development process was another matter entirely. Fujiwara Chiya could not help worrying whether he would be able to raise his girls properly.
Nase Fumino stood up.
"Leaving already?"
"Yes."
"You didn't come all the way here just to ask whether I'd joined the project, did you?"
Nase Fumino's body paused slightly.
"I suppose that was part of it."
Then she turned as if to leave.
"Fumino."
Fujiwara Chiya suddenly called out to her. Nase Fumino stopped walking.
She turned back and looked at him.
After hesitating for a few seconds, he finally said, "Could you teach me?"
Nase Fumino raised one elegant brow.
"What?"
"Could you teach me about training? I'm not good enough. Compared to you, I'm nowhere near qualified. So could you teach me about training?"
Hearing that, Nase Fumino lifted a hand to brush back the hair near her temple. Her usually cool face shifted ever so slightly.
Surprise, tension, delight. The changes were subtle, small enough that most people might have missed them.
"Why ask me?" Nase Fumino asked. "Aren't there plenty of senior trainers you're close to? Every weekend you go out drinking with them until late at night and stagger back completely drunk. Why not ask them for help?"
"I hardly ever go out drinking! I get dragged out!" Fujiwara Chiya protested. "And besides, they're no good either. Their way of teaching is awful. They never explain things clearly. I've asked them before, and it all just turns into vague nonsense. Compared to them, you're amazing, Fumino."
"I... am amazing...?"
"I mean your explanations are amazing. You can make things clear in just a few words."
Nase Fumino lifted her hand to her neck and brushed her hair back again. Every time she did that, it was because she was trying to hide how shaken she was inside.
"I see..."
"So could you, please?"
"We're rivals, Chiya. Even so, you still want to learn from me?"
"Yes, exactly. You are my rival, but before that, you're Fumino." Fujiwara Chiya clenched both hands. "So I don't think there's anything shameful about asking you."
Nase Fumino's eyes flickered. Then she slowly returned to the sofa.
"I'll teach you a little."
"Really? Thank you so much, Fumino."
"If you get eliminated before you even manage to face me, then you won't deserve to call yourself my rival. So... at the very least, I have to make sure you're strong enough to stand in front of me."
"Yes. I'll work hard."
Nase Fumino let out a slow breath, calming the rapid beat of her heart.
"Where's your training plan? Bring it over. I'll look for places that need improvement."
"They're all here."
Fujiwara Chiya placed all of his training sheets in front of her.
Nase Fumino looked through them, then noticed that he was still standing nearby.
"Why are you standing there? Come here." She patted the seat beside her.
"Ah, right."
Fujiwara Chiya moved over, and the two of them sat shoulder to shoulder.
Nase Fumino picked up the training schedule and examined it carefully, her blue-green eyes showing a thoughtful intensity.
Seeing her like that, Fujiwara Chiya could not help remembering an interview program he had seen not long ago. The host had introduced the youngest genius trainer, Nase Fumino, and referred to her as "the prince."
Because she always wore formal clothing, and because her cold beauty gave off a somewhat androgynous impression, Nase Fumino was one of the rare trainers who combined both appearance and ability. She had a great many fans.
This was the first time Fujiwara Chiya had ever looked at her from this close.
To be more precise, it was the first time he had looked this closely at the grown-up Nase Fumino.
She really has become this famous.
"Your rest periods are too concentrated. You should spread them out more. Keep the ratio to about one-fifth of your exercise time... Chiya, are you even listening to me? Chiya?"
When she turned and realized he was staring blankly at her, Nase Fumino flicked his forehead with a finger.
"Pay attention."
"Sorry."
Fujiwara Chiya rubbed his forehead.
"By the way, Fumino... you're actually wearing that."
Fujiwara Chiya looked at the earring on her right ear. It was a very cheap droplet-shaped piece, dull in color and rough in quality. He remembered it clearly. It had been a birthday present he had bought for her with his pocket money.
At the time, she had not even had pierced ears, so she had simply tucked it into her pocket. And yet now, all these years later, he was seeing that same gift on her.
The feeling was strange. Nostalgic, yet somehow happy too.
"I-I just happened to find it while going through my things, and thought it looked nice, so I wore it."
Nase Fumino covered her ear.
"I'm glad you like it. I've got money now, so when your birthday comes around, I should be able to buy you something better."
Nase Fumino's pupils suddenly tightened. Her hand lightly touched the earring by her ear.
"Enough about that. I'm teaching you about training. Pay attention."
"Right, I'm listening. Please continue, Teacher Fumino."
"Bring your ear closer."
Fujiwara Chiya focused himself.
"How do you even make mistakes like this? You're far too careless."
"...That was my oversight."
For some reason, from that point on, Nase Fumino gave his training plan a complete verbal beatdown. Fujiwara Chiya felt like he was being scolded by an elementary school teacher.
Still, everything she said struck directly at the core. Fujiwara Chiya only then realized that compared to a high-level trainer, his own plan was practically full of holes. After her revisions, the efficiency of the training would probably improve by at least twenty percent.
At last, once they had reviewed everything from beginning to end and confirmed that nothing else needed fixing, Nase Fumino handed the training plan back to him.
"Did you remember everything I said?"
"I did. I wrote all the important points down in my notebook."
"Good. Then when training starts, I'll come by your side and take a look. At that point I'll teach you some practical applications too."
"Alright. Thank you, Fumino."
Fujiwara Chiya said it sincerely.
He owed her a huge favor now. She had shared such precious experience with him.
Nase Fumino was his competitor. Whether it was in the Twinkle Series or the selection race, teaching him useful things meant lowering her own odds of winning. Even so, she had still chosen to help him without holding anything back.
A favor like that could not easily be repaid. So for now, Fujiwara Chiya decided to at least express how he felt.
"Fumino... if you don't mind, would you like to have a meal together sometime?"
"A meal?"
"Just the two of us."
Nase Fumino turned her head and stayed silent. Just as Fujiwara Chiya was beginning to think she was about to refuse, she finally spoke.
"When?"
"This weekend."
"Remember to call me."
"Alright."
Then she left the room.
As expected of the so-called Prince. She really does everything cleanly and decisively.
What Fujiwara Chiya did not see was Nase Fumino, standing quietly outside the door with her back against it, touching her burning face and staying there for a long while before she returned to her usual composure.
By the afternoon, Fujiwara Chiya was explaining the project to his team. Each of them showed a different reaction.
"Trainer, if we go to Europe, does that count as a trip on public funds?" Gold Ship asked.
"Yes. But only travel and accommodation are covered. If you want to buy anything, Tracen won't pay for that."
"That still sounds pretty good." Gold Ship whistled.
"Does everyone have to participate, Trainer?" Meisho Doto asked softly.
"No. Each trainer participating in the project only needs at least one Uma Musume. Not everyone has to go. But I think it's a rare opportunity. There's no loss in racing against other trainers, and it would also be a good way to gain experience. Don't you want to participate, Doto?"
"N-no, it's not that. I was just wondering, if we win, then doesn't that mean we'd have to go to Europe? I can't speak any foreign languages..."
Meisho Doto nervously pressed her fingers together.
"It's fine, Doto. I can't either." Fujiwara Chiya said it with fake heroic confidence, earning eye-rolls from Gold Ship and the others.
"I'm joking. We'll have someone guiding us. Satake Mei is from France, and she'll act as our interpreter."
Hearing that, Meisho Doto finally relaxed. She was the type to be absolutely terrified of getting lost overseas, so knowing there would be a local with them was a great comfort.
Once all the questions had been answered, Fujiwara Chiya declared, "A graded-race victory is the minimum requirement. Every one of you must win at least one graded race. That is your ticket to an even higher stage."
"Got it, Trainer!" Gold Ship shouted. "Publicly funded food, publicly funded travel, and maybe we can even dance samba on the Eiffel Tower. If we don't go, that'd be a total waste! Raise your spirits!"
"Oh!" Rice Shower immediately chimed in.
"Nobody said anything about dancing samba! If you go abroad, follow the local rules!"
Whatever the case, his team now understood how difficult the coming races would be, and each of them was training hard.
Except this one.
Fujiwara Chiya looked at Gold Ship, who had been the first to hype everyone up and was now off meditating in the middle of training.
Forget it. With Ship, even if I leave her alone, she'll probably still manage to run somehow.
Once that day's training ended, Fujiwara Chiya dismissed everyone.
He needed to go and get some weighted horseshoes to help the Uma Musume build leg strength. Even Nase Fumino had reminded him to hurry and put that kind of training into the schedule.
On the way back to his room, Fujiwara Chiya happened to see a familiar green figure passing outside the dorm.
The moment he saw her, he instinctively turned around.
But he was already too late.
"Trainer Chiya."
That gentle voice reached his ears, and cold sweat instantly broke out across his back.
He had never imagined that he would one day feel fear at hearing such a sweet voice.
"Tazuna... san."
"Heading back?"
"Yes."
"Then would you let me visit your room?"
Looking into those soft green eyes that seemed as fluid as water, Fujiwara Chiya felt a pressure he had no way to refuse.
"Of course, Tazuna-san. My room always welcomes..."
A slender finger pressed lightly against Fujiwara Chiya's lips. Rising onto her toes, Hayakawa Tazuna leaned close to his ear.
"Don't call me 'Tazuna-san.' Call me Tazuna."