"Alright, tell me this first. Where did you get such a ridiculously pretty cousin?"
On his way back from the dorms, Fujiwara Chiya ran into Katsumura Yota, who had just finished work and immediately pulled him aside. As coworkers and close friends, neither of them bothered with formalities.
"You're just jealous," Chiya replied.
"She's just your cousin. What's there to be jealous of?"
"Says the guy who doesn't even have one."
"I do."
"…Huh?"
"My aunt's kid. She's a little foal, though. Only four."
"Oi! Someone call the police, we've got a lolicon here!"
"What the hell are you shouting for?" Yota snapped, quickly covering Chiya's mouth. "I just mentioned my aunt's kid!"
"You jumped to conclusions this morning. I'm just returning the favor."
"That's not how that works."
"It is to me."
Yota clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed.
Chiya narrowed his eyes. "So why are you asking about my cousin?"
"Nothing serious. Just curious," Yota said. "Earlier on the track, I heard you say you're going all out this year?"
"Yeah. Aiming for graded races. Got a problem with that?"
"No problem. It's just…" Yota lowered his voice slightly. "I heard something. This year's races are a bit different."
"How so?"
"We're entering European races."
Chiya paused. "…European races? Don't tell me…"
Yota nodded. "The chairwoman is aiming for the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe. She wants someone to compete there this year."
That race ranked among the top in the world. Winning it meant earning the title of a world-class Uma Musume. Yet despite years of effort, no one from Japan had ever won. It had become a long-standing goal that remained out of reach.
"No wonder she said this year was special…" Chiya muttered.
It sounded exciting.
…But it had nothing to do with him.
"Do you have anyone who can run in the Arc?" he asked.
"No."
"Do you?"
"Also no."
"Then why are you telling me this?"
Yota raised a finger. "That's not how you should look at it. We don't have anyone now, but that doesn't mean we won't later. If we can train someone strong enough this year, there's still a chance."
"You're saying we train someone at that level in a year?"
"Two years," Yota corrected. "This year's already out of reach. But next year?"
Chiya fell silent.
Even two years sounded optimistic. The Arc's track conditions were demanding, with uneven terrain that tested both endurance and balance. Without a strong foundation, it would be difficult to win even with time.
Just as he was about to dismiss the idea, an image surfaced in his mind.
A stage outfit.
He hesitated, then said, "I might not be confident about winning it. But if someone on my team wants that title, I'll do everything I can to help her."
"That's more like it," Yota said. "Oh, and there's one more thing. If a trainer wins the Arc, they get promoted to senior trainer automatically."
"…What?"
"For people like us, that usually takes seven or eight years. Sometimes even longer. But if you win the Arc, everything changes."
Chiya straightened immediately. "Then we're doing it. It's just the Arc. What's there to be afraid of?"
A senior trainer license meant access to overseas training, international academies, and the ability to teach anywhere in the world. It was practically the ultimate shortcut.
Then reality hit.
"…Wait. Competing there costs money, doesn't it?"
"Of course," Yota said. "You need to arrive early and adjust to the track. Staying in Paris for weeks won't be cheap."
"…Does the chairwoman cover it?"
"If your runner qualifies, travel and accommodation are covered. The rest probably isn't. Why?"
"…Nothing."
Chiya shook his head slowly.
"…I think I've just run into a serious financial problem. I might not even be able to support myself anymore."
"…What?"
Yota stared at him, completely confused.
"Let me sit down for a bit. I need to think about my life."
Chiya found a place to sit, and his attention shifted back to Shirayuki.
At that moment, Shirayuki was still kneeling in front of her dorm room, looking completely drained.
The door suddenly opened.
A brown-haired girl stepped out, then froze.
The moment she saw Shirayuki, she let out a small cry and quickly shut the door again.
"…?"
Shirayuki blinked.
Am I really that scary?
From Chiya's perspective, she looked like a flawless beauty. Her features were delicate, her proportions balanced. She perfectly fit the image of a beautiful girl. Even he would get flustered if he looked too long.
So why didn't it work here?
Do Uma Musume not care about looks?
The door slowly opened again. Half a face peeked out, followed by a pair of gentle purple eyes.
"…Um… are you Fujiwara Shirayuki?"
"Yes, that's me."
At that, her ears twitched slightly before she opened the door properly.
"My name is Mejiro Dober. I'm your roommate. Sorry… I was a little startled earlier. Why were you kneeling outside?"
"I tripped over my luggage."
Shirayuki gestured toward the large bag behind her. Only then did she realize she had already arrived at her assigned room.
"…I see."
Dober's gaze shifted slightly.
"Your knees… they're not hurt, are they?"
"I'm fine. I'm pretty sturdy."
"…That's good."
She let out a small breath of relief, then stepped aside.
"I've already prepared your bed. You just need to lay out the bedding. That desk over there is yours. I also divided the bathroom storage into two sections."
Her explanation was neat and methodical.
Shirayuki narrowed her eyes slightly.
…Why does this girl feel so hard to deal with?