Uma Musume Pretty Derby: From Getting Knocked Ten Meters Away [121]

After the explanation, seeing Kitasan Black and the others staring blankly, Duramente waited a few seconds before nodding and turning away.

“Excuse me then. Kita-chan, Crown—you two hang in there.”

Only after Duramente's footsteps faded into the distance did Satono Crown let out a deep breath at the dining table.

“Duramente
she’s really putting in the effort. Alright then—!”

She too stood up, holding her tray.

“Guess I’ll go visit the counseling office as well!”

When Satono Crown suddenly rose, Kitasan Black jumped slightly in surprise.

Initially, she’d assumed her friend was heading off for training, so the mention of the counseling office caught her off guard.

“The counseling office
? Crown-chan, is something troubling you?” Unconsciously rising from her seat, Kitasan Black looked at her friend worriedly.

“Me? Oh, it's not me.”

Satono Crown smiled and waved a hand dismissively. “It's about Cheval Grand.”

“Grand?”

Kitasan blinked, then asked with concern, “Did something happen to her?”

Knowing her friend's caring nature, Satono Crown didn't conceal anything and began explaining.

She and Kitasan Black were classmates, and Satono Crown served as their class representative. Cheval Grand was their classmate as well.

At Central Tracen Academy, classes were grouped by grades, meaning all Uma Musume who shared a classroom had impressive entrance scores.

2nd, 1st, 3rd, 3rd—Cheval Grand's debut and subsequent three races had produced exceptional results. However, she sustained an injury during training prior to her fifth race, the Wakaba Stakes, forcing her withdrawal.

By her sixth race—the recent Mainichi Cup—the lingering injury likely affected her performance, and she finished only fifth.

From the Wakaba Stakes onwards, Grand frequently became distracted in class, her training visibly deteriorating.

After speaking with the instructors, Satono Crown discovered that the injury and disappointing result had seriously impacted her classmate’s mental state.

As class rep, Satono Crown felt responsible for helping her recover.

“Oh, I see
”

Kitasan Black nodded solemnly, falling silent.

Although she hadn't experienced Grand’s situation herself, she could vaguely sense the pressure her classmate felt.

She had known similar pressure before her own debut.

After enrolling, every Uma Musume was personally called in for a talk with the Student Council President, Tokai Teio.

Having known that idol for a long time, Kitasan had heard those words even before officially enrolling.

Lead the field, outshine thousands.

This was Central Tracen Academy's motto—and the demand it placed on every Uma Musume.

Around 10,000 Uma Musume with racing talent stepped onto the tracks each year, but only about 20% could enter Central Tracen Academy.

Even among these 2,000 students, not all would successfully debut.

Whether due to competition stress, injuries, or other circumstances, students dropped out almost daily.

No matter what dreams or expectations they once held, their futures had already parted ways with those dreams.

Even a successful debut didn't guarantee fulfilling that demanding standard.

Only around 500 graded races existed each year, thus only about 500 champions. The G1 races were even fewer—barely over 20.

And winning a single G1 or two certainly didn't qualify as truly "leading the field."

Even victories upon victories might not convince everyone.

Yet a single failure often invited unexpected criticism.

“It sounds harsh, right, Kita-chan?”"

Back then, with eyes shimmering in colors Kitasan couldn't fully grasp, that senior—playful yet oddly mature—had said:

“But that’s the reality."

“You might not fully grasp it yet, but I want you to understand now:"

“Losing races, leaving the track—that’s our norm."

“Winning races, graded stakes, even G1s—that’s an extraordinary stroke of luck."

“Your job is to keep running along that path of luck."

“I hope, and I believe, you can manage that.”

Unconsciously recalling this memory, Kitasan Black turned towards Satono Crown, speaking earnestly:

“I'll go help too. Though I can’t fully understand Grand’s feelings
 I'm sure having someone care would still make her happy."

“Trainer-san’s attending a meeting anyway, and I don't have training Friday night.”

“Kita-chan, you’re as kind-hearted as always. Well then
”

Smiling, Satono Crown was about to agree but then frowned slightly, shaking her head.

“No
perhaps this time, Kita-chan, you shouldn’t come.”

“
Why?” Kitasan Black asked urgently.

“Because
”

Satono Crown bit her lip, a complex expression flickering across her eyes as she sighed.

“You won the Satsuki Sho."

“I didn’t mention it earlier, but Grand had also registered for the Classic Triple Crown. However, after withdrawing from the Wakaba Stakes and placing poorly in the Mainichi Cup, she no longer has enough fans to qualify."

“Her next race
is the G3 Kyoto Shimbun Hai."

“It might sound harsh, but comforting someone who failed before even reaching the starting gate while you’re holding a G1 laurel crown
 It’s like showing up to a funeral in evening wear.”

Silence spread across the dining table for a long while.

Suddenly, Kitasan Black, her expression tense, broke into a smile—eyes brimming with the same confidence she’d worn at the starting gate of the Satsuki Sho.

“Even if it's exactly as you say, Crown-chan
I’ve still decided to visit Grand.”

“
Kita-chan?” Taken aback, Satono Crown furrowed her brow.

“Because even though I don't know Grand very well, I believe—”

Kitasan Black lifted her tray resolutely:

“She’s not a fragile Uma Musume."

“Or rather
none of us are truly that fragile.”

---

When Satono Crown finally agreed to Kitasan’s decision, inside the Student Council office


Tokai Teio sat behind her desk, munching an apple pie. Before her was a stack of open documents; the one at the top was labeled “Dubai Turf.”

Across the room, at another long desk usually occupied by Mejiro McQueen, another Uma Musume sat quietly reading files.

The way she calmly reviewed papers, gaze sharp and poised, made her resemble a renowned blade sheathed in ice.

The sunset filtering through the window coated her sleek, dark-gold hair with a sheen like cold glaze. The desk plaque reading “Deep Impact” gleamed brilliantly under the evening glow.

Crunch, crunch—the sound of Tokai Teio chewing her pie traveled across the room. Deep Impact's pen tip twitched imperceptibly; her icy expression melted just slightly as she murmured:

“
President, haven't you already had dinner? Snacking at this hour doesn't seem ideal for weight management.”

Licking jam from her fingertips, eyes wandering slightly, Tokai Teio grinned broadly.

“Weight? Nah, doesn't matter to me—I'm not McQueen. I can eat whatever and stay slim.”

“
Tomorrow, McQueen-senpai and I will be inspecting Tokyo Racecourse's drainage system.”

Sighing inaudibly again, Deep Impact subtly hinted as she stood, carrying the documents she'd reviewed, approaching Tokai Teio's desk.

“This is the preliminary review of the overseas agreements for the second quarter. Please finish reviewing it by 7:30 PM.”

“Alright, thanks for your hard work.”

Casting aside her playful demeanor instantly, Tokai Teio swiftly devoured the pie, wiping her hands clean vigorously with a tissue.

“Oh, right—don’t leave yet. About that training match we discussed the other day
have you thought it over?”

---

T/N: I wanna stay slim no matter what I eat :(

This is a fan translation of è”›é©Źćš˜ïŒšä»Žèą«æ’žéŁžćç±łćŒ€ć§‹ by ç™Ÿć‡éŁžäžŠć€© All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!