A sharp cry suddenly rang out from the stable.
"Yikes!"
One of the assistants stumbled out from behind the rail, clutching his shoulder in pain.
"Oh? Dyna got you again?" Iwamoto chuckled as he walked over. He had just finished dealing with another horse entrusted to the barn, and the first thing he saw upon returning was his assistant staggering out of Dyna's stall in utter disarray.
The assistant rubbed at the shoulder of his jacket, which had been torn yet again, and gave a helpless laugh as he held up his plastic bucket. "Honestly, this little filly won't let anyone touch her except Mr. Iwamoto, Mr. Takenosono, and Mr. Wada."
All he had wanted to do was take advantage of the moment while Dyna was eating and brush out her mane a little.
But the instant the metal comb touched her neck, the filly wheeled around and bit him.
Never mind the torn clothes. She had also managed to spray hay and feed all over him from the feed trough, and now the poor assistant looked like he was one mishap away from tears.
"Just spend more time petting her and she'll come around," Iwamoto said, patting the man on the shoulder before stepping into the stall under the assistant's almost fainting stare.
In the corner, Light Dyna was pawing irritably at the bedding with one hoof.
"Well now, good girl."
Iwamoto approached from directly behind her, and in the next instant, to the assistant's absolute horror, casually slapped her on the rump.
If anyone else had done that, Dyna would have launched a double-barreled kick hard enough to send them flying, probably with a few broken ribs and a one-way trip to the ICU.
But the one doing it now was Iwamoto.
So all Dyna did was snort, then turn around and rub herself against him, merrily smearing the wood shavings and hay stuck to her nose all over his clothes.
"…That's incredible," the assistant muttered, shaking his head. "She really does distinguish between insiders and outsiders. Mr. Takenosono's luck is bizarre."
After all, Light Dyna was a horse specifically under Iwamoto's care. The other assistants only dared enter her stall on the rare days when she seemed to be in a good mood, just to clean up and do the bare minimum.
Actually, scratch that. Even when Dyna wasn't in a good mood, they still had to go in. It was their job.
Which was why the assistants had all started putting on that communal padded vest before entering her stall. By now, the shoulders of that thing had been patched and re-stitched more than ten times.
Inside the stall, Iwamoto gently patted Dyna's neck, thinking about how strange it was that Takenosono still hadn't decided on her next race after her debut.
Back in the day, when Opera O was racing, there had been times he'd genuinely felt like Takenosono was trying to run her into the ground.
This time, maybe Takenosono thought Dyna had been badly rattled by that combination of Kenichi Ikezoe and Gold Master in the debut race.
Light Dyna needed time to settle down.
The post-race veterinary exam hadn't found anything wrong, true, but perhaps it was better to let her mature slowly through life in the barn and ordinary schooling.
And over these past two months, her progress had been enough to pleasantly surprise Iwamoto.
Normally, once a horse entered the stable, their base weight would drop a little under regular training and then fluctuate around that point.
But Light Dyna had continued gaining weight even while training, which was unquestionably good news.
When she had first come into the stable, Iwamoto had thought the filly looked far too slight. Even against other fillies, she'd have been at a disadvantage.
But when they had eventually settled on a mixed-sex debut race, Dyna had unexpectedly shown remarkable fighting spirit, which had at last eased his worries a little.
Today was Light Dyna's solo turf breeze.
Later, one of the assistants would come to saddle her up. As for getting her to the training center, that part would have to wait until Wada Ryūji arrived.
Because apart from Wada, Light Dyna absolutely refused to let any other person sit on her back.
That, more than anything, was what gave Iwamoto a headache.
It was rude to think this way, but as someone working in the racing industry, he had to consider the worst-case scenario in advance.
If Wada were ever injured in a fall and needed time off, what would they do if Dyna needed a substitute rider?
Surely it couldn't turn into a situation where they found one jockey, she threw him off, then they found another, and she threw him off too?
If that happened, then for however long Wada was recovering, Light Dyna's race schedule would have to be left completely blank.
"You really are a troublesome one." Iwamoto rubbed her nose back and forth a few times. Dyna snorted and promptly turned her head away, refusing to look at the old man any longer.
"Heh, what a temper."
Iwamoto didn't stay in the stall any longer. After teasing her a bit, he left.
When the assistant came in to put on her saddle, something unexpected happened.
She didn't bite him.
Instead, she stood there quietly and didn't so much as lift her head.
Curious, the assistant reached out and gently touched the muscle along her cheek.
No reaction.
"Huh? Did she suddenly have a personality transplant in the last half hour?"
Dyna caught the muttered remark, flicked her ears forward, and tossed her head.
Still, ears pricked forward meant she was in a very good mood.
The assistant took hold of her reins, and without even needing to tug, Light Dyna followed him calmly out of the stall. There was none of her usual contrary stiffness, none of that deliberate resistance whenever someone tried to lead her somewhere.
"If only you were always this obedient," he muttered as he stroked the side of her face again and again. "Wouldn't that make our lives easier?"
While she was in a good mood, he wanted to rack up as much goodwill as possible. If he could just reach the point where she stopped biting people, that alone would be a major victory.
Thud!
The assistant, walking ahead, suddenly felt a shove from behind and nearly stumbled flat on his face.
When he turned around, he found Dyna tossing her head up and down.
That headbutt had absolutely been her doing.
"I'm out of ideas. Seriously… this girl."
Most two-year-old fillies were lively and unruly, little girls who didn't listen. Usually they settled a bit by age three.
As for whether that would also hold true for Light Dyna…
The assistant reserved judgment.
At present, Dyna's calmness only ever appeared around three people:
Iwamoto, Takenosono, and Wada.
"Thanks for your hard work~ She didn't bite you, did she?"
"No, actually. She was pretty well-behaved when I saddled her, but on the way over I muttered a couple of things and she almost knocked me over with a headbutt. She's got one hell of a temper."
The assistant handed Dyna's reins to the person in charge of the training session, then immediately dodged another headbutt from her.
"See? She understands us."
"Well, of course she can tell when you're badmouthing her," the other man laughed.
After the handover, Dyna was led to the entrance of the training track.
Wada arrived a little late because of traffic, and after the extra time it took him to change, the two of them entered the track later than the others.
"Sorry I'm late."
Holding a crop in one hand, Wada jogged over, apologized, planted his foot in the stirrup, and swung himself smoothly into the saddle.
The moment Dyna felt the familiar weight settle onto her back, she flicked her ears.
The weight seemed a little heavier than before.
Dyna thought it might just be her imagination, but Wada really did seem heavier.
"Well then, I'll leave her in your hands, Wada-san."
"Thanks. And thank you for bringing her over."
Wada patted Dyna's neck and urged her forward.
But Dyna merely started strolling slowly over the grass.
Yes, technically she was moving forward.
But it looked more like a leisurely walk than anything resembling work.
Wada gave a helpless laugh from atop her back.
That old problem from her debut still hadn't gone away.
So he tapped her lightly on the shoulder with the crop.
A shoulder tap.
Overseas, that kind of strike generally didn't count toward the whip-use total, though it still served as a cue to tell the horse it was time to move into a more serious gear.
In foreign racing, whip rules were strict. Some places capped whip use at five strikes, and even then there were distance-based restrictions. In some jurisdictions, for example, jockeys were forbidden from using the whip before the final 200 meters.
But all of that referred to striking the horse's hindquarters.
A shoulder tap or a waving motion near the head was treated differently.
Normally, after a shoulder tap, the jockey would begin flicking or waving the crop near the horse's eye-line to keep it mentally engaged. That was for races.
In training, all he needed to do was remind the rather slow-to-switch-on Dyna that yes, they were supposed to be running now.
"Dyna, Dyna—come on, let's go."
Maybe the shoulder tap really had worked.
At the cue, Dyna gradually shifted from walking to an easy canter. Wada turned on the devices mounted to his helmet one by one and moved fully into riding mode.
From the observation platform, Iwamoto tracked the pair through binoculars.
The moment they passed the 600-meter marker, he started the stopwatch.
When he saw Dyna responding more quickly than before to Wada's acceleration cues, both he and the assistant were visibly relieved.
As long as all this work was turning into tangible improvement, that alone was enough to make them happy.
On Dyna's back, Wada only struck her hindquarters twice. After that, he kept pressing and pushing at her neck instead.
After this long period of training together, he had realized that Dyna was less responsive to whipping than she was to direct pressure on the neck.
"Iwamoto-san, he's being awfully conservative with the crop on Dyna, isn't he?" the assistant remarked.
In ordinary training, a jockey might use the full five permitted strikes during a fast 3-furlong work. Wada had only used two this time.
"Because every horse is different," Iwamoto replied, already understanding Dyna's peculiarity from Wada's motions alone. "Looks like Dyna's special point is her neck. Some horses are highly sensitive to the crop. Others barely react. Neck sensitivity is a good thing. It means she'll respond flexibly to a jockey's cues, since most communication during a race is done right there."
He continued watching the chestnut filly tearing across the turf.
"Looks like we still haven't uncovered all the potential in Light Dyna. She's not the type who'll make it purely through training. The races themselves will have to draw her ability out."
Dyna learned fast.
From stride mechanics to pace changes, she could absorb training and retain it with startling speed. It was only because of that learning ability that they had managed to prepare her in time for the debut showdown with Gold Master.
"But Takenosono-san still hasn't confirmed her next race, has he? Should we just decide one for him?"
"No, let him decide for himself. But I'll bring it up with him," Iwamoto said. "If he's really dead set on having her take on the colts on the classic trail, then he'll need to choose a path that other people wouldn't dare commit to."
That was Iwamoto's view.
In all those years, only Vodka had managed to win the Japanese Derby as a filly in the mixed-sex classics.
If Light Dyna also intended to beat the colts in the Satsuki Sho, then she would have to take a far more unconventional route.
What Iwamoto couldn't understand was why Takenosono no longer had the nerve to lay out race schedules for Dyna the way he once had for Opera O.
Watching Light Dyna flash past with that fierce glint in her eye, he found the contrast baffling.
"Light Dyna's in really good form," Wada said after dismounting, still patting her neck. "Her response speed was much quicker this time. I barely had to push before she understood she was supposed to maintain top speed."
Iwamoto was extremely pleased with the result as well.
After giving the assistants instructions for Dyna's cooldown routine, he left together with Wada.
Of course—
This was Rittō Training Center.
And one of the horses training here was named…
Gold Master.
Light Dyna and Gold Master happened to finish their work at almost exactly the same time, and their respective handlers led them to the wash area.
Because in most years no trouble ever came from two-year-old colts and fillies sharing facilities, all the two-year-old spaces were communal.
But those two bitter rivals, Gold Master and Light Dyna, were a different story.
Gold Master had just been doused with a bucket of cold water when he suddenly caught a scent coming from next door.
A scent he knew.
A very familiar one.
He had smelled it months ago.
A filly.
And not just any filly—the one whose scent had been distinctive when they had gotten close before.
Over on Dyna's side, the assistant had only just fastened her bit when a wildly excited neigh suddenly erupted from the next bay, accompanied by frantic pawing and the violent clatter of chains being yanked.
"Hey, hey, what's going on over there?!"
The assistant had seen Dyna get startled too. She hadn't started thrashing wildly, but her snorting had grown much louder.
"Sorry! He just suddenly got agitated!"
Gold Master's handler apologized in a panic. He hurried through Gold Master's wash, then immediately tried to lead him away.
But all along the way Gold Master fought his reins, and something else about him was very much not calm either.
Like he was dragging around a stick between his hind legs.
The two handlers caught sight of each other.
Then each caught sight of the horse standing beside the other.
And at once both of them understood exactly why this had happened.
"Gold Master's really not very bright, is he…" Dyna's assistant muttered as he dumped another bucket of water over her and patted her neck. "You'd better beat him on the track. If that idiot colt spends every race losing to you, then maybe you won't have to see him anymore."
Dyna: O皿O
She hadn't understood the words.
But she already disliked that irritating chestnut colt from what had just happened.
Especially his smell.
She hated it.
Compared to that, even the scent of the two-legged creature beside her was far more pleasant.
So she nudged the assistant with her nose, let him finish washing her in peace, and then returned to her stall to enjoy her meal.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 139)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter171)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter100)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter184)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 168
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 156
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 105
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 185
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 160
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 150
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player 76
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 97
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 66
Uma Musume: From Beginner 116
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 75
Uma Musume: I Want All 93
I Can Copy Unique Skills 79
Summoning an Evil God, but the 55
Supernatural Multiverse 75
My Harem Is Indescribable 68
Jujutsu Kaisen: Heroic Spirit 70
"I'm just a Valkyrie passing through." 66
Uma Musume: Today Is Another Romantic Battlefield 69
Still playing traditional Honk 49
The Most Filial Son Under Heav 53
What Should I Do After Switchi 42
Reincarnated as a Demon, Skill 50
Hell-Difficulty Dungeon? 38
Transmigrated as Sukuna 35
Checking In in Demon Slayer 40
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 55
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