I Just Wanted a Quiet Life... So Why Am I an Uma Musume Trainer?!

Air Groove's phone crackled with Hachiman's voice, steady but tinged with regret. "Yeah, Bubble Gum Fellow fractured a bone. I'm sorry I can't be there. You're tough, so I'm not worried, but head straight back to the dorm, okay? Rest tonight. We'll meet tomorrow."

"Got it," Air Groove replied, her voice firm.

"See you then," Hachiman said, the line going dead.

Bubble, fractured… The words hit like a cold gust. If Air Groove had ignored Hachiman's training and pushed too hard, she might've been the one sidelined, watching races from a hospital bed or nursing an injury. This isn't someone else's problem, she thought, her hooves heavy as she walked. It could've been me.

"Should I visit her?" she murmured. "No, what if I, unscathed and victorious, come off as gloating?" The thought gnawed at her. Visiting Bubble—a girl whose Classic dreams were crushed—felt like a tightrope walk. Air Groove, the Ouka Sho champion, showing up could seem like provocation, intentional or not. I'd never do that, she resolved, but doubt lingered.

She wrestled with the decision, her mind churning even as the Winning Live loomed. All races done, the crowd would cheer her triumph, but here she was, fretting over a hospital visit. Pathetic, she chided herself.

"For now, I'll hold off," she decided, exhaling.

The train's rhythmic clatter filled the late hour, the world outside a blur of lights. Air Groove sat, a trophy and certificate from the Ouka Sho tucked discreetly in her bag. Too conspicuous to carry openly, they were her quiet pride. The live performance had come and gone, the crowd's cheers still echoing in her ears.

"Oaks, we're counting on you!"

"Mother-daughter double crown, let's go!"

"We'll cheer you in Tokyo!"

"2400 meters next—give it your all!"

Voices of fans, some for her, some for the second-place finisher or their favorite Uma Musume, had showered her before, during, and after the live. Each shout fueled her fire. The Oaks was her stage, the same one her mother had conquered. The title she craved most. The next month would be grueling, no room for slacking. I'll show them I can dominate Fuchu's 2400 meters!

At Trecen Academy's Ritto dorm, the air was warm, homely. Fuji greeted her at the entrance, her smile bright. "Welcome back, Air Groove."

"Hey, Fuji," Air Groove said. "Thanks."

"Ouka Sho champ, huh? Congrats," Fuji said, chuckling. "Bet you've heard that till your ears ache."

"Never tires me," Air Groove said, a faint smile breaking through. "Gratitude doesn't get old. But you, waiting up this late for me?"

"Not the whole dorm," Fuji said. "Everyone wanted to celebrate, but it's too late to wake them. We'll save it for next time. Tokyo's your stage, but whether we party depends on when you drag yourself back."

Air Groove's eyes narrowed. "You threatening me?"

"No way," Fuji laughed. "You're beat, right? Get to your room and rest. Fine might still be up, but she'll let you crash. She's considerate like that."

"Here's hoping," Air Groove said, heading inside.

Truth be told, exhaustion hadn't hit her. Training felt harsher than the race itself. Why? Hachiman's watchful eyes, probably. Every step, every motion—he'd notice the slightest slip, from her hooves to her ears. No room for error. Races were intense, but his scrutiny burned hotter.

In her room, Air Groove eased the door open. "Fine, I'm back…"

"Groove-san, welcome home!" Fine's voice chirped, bright as ever. "Today's race was amazing! Zooming from the inside—pow! The whole dorm was floored watching."

"Thanks," Air Groove said, setting her bag down.

"But," Fine said, tilting her head, "I was thinking… does anyone on the Tiara route match you? Like, a real rival?"

"Every racer's a rival," Air Groove said, frowning.

"Sure, but a peer?" Fine pressed. "Another Uma Musume your age, your level?"

Air Groove paused. She's right. She hadn't faced a true equal among her generation, not yet. "I haven't raced the Triple Crown girls or others off the Tiara route. Too early to say."

"Who's the strongest, you think?" Fine asked, eyes sparkling.

"No clue," Air Groove said. "But I'll find out soon enough. Anyway, school's tomorrow. I'm prepping and sleeping. You?"

"Same," Fine said. "No lights on while you're sleeping—I know you hate that."

"Not lights," Air Groove corrected. "Flashes. Those blinding interview cameras—I'll never get used to them."

How many times had she wished those flashing lights would vanish? Pointless to dwell, she thought, shaking her head.