Song couldn't shake the feeling that Secretariat's gaze was… strange.
It was as if there was an emotion inside it so intense it could swallow her whole—but in the end, it was Secretariat herself, the one who was usually the more intimidating presence, who broke the eye contact first. She pulled out her phone and stepped into an empty room nearby to make a call.
Freed, at last, from that piercing stare, Song made her escape from where she'd been standing—only to—!
The moment her shoes touched the hard tiles of the courtyard, she saw someone who made her head ache instantly.
She even let slip, for once, an expression you could genuinely call flustered.
Why?
Simple: because the tall horse girl walking toward her carried a name with no small weight—
Satono Diamond.
On reflection, it was perfectly reasonable. As the gem of the prestigious Satono family, Satono Diamond had more than enough excuse to appear at Mejiro Manor. And indeed, there was a perfectly valid reason for her visit today.
She passed Song without stopping. Their eyes met for only an instant as their paths crossed, and then it was over.
Satono Diamond gave her a light smile in greeting—a moment that drew a subtle reaction from Mejiro Ramonu, watching from the side, though neither of the other two noticed.
When Ramonu and Satono Diamond entered the house without pausing, Song finally looked down at the one who had stopped right in front of her—Vernal Equinox.
The little one said nothing, just tilted her head up to meet Song's helpless gaze with those usual slow, unreadable eyes.
"Equinox came to play with big sis, but… I ran into Miss Diamond. I didn't feel at ease, so I followed her in no matter what."
"You're the best, Equinox!"
With her mood soothed by the girl's quiet loyalty, Song couldn't help bending down to meet her eye to eye, pressing her cheek against Equinox's in affection.
Come to think of it, her family was famous too—so Vernal Equinox also had a legitimate reason to show up at Mejiro Manor…
But Song didn't bother thinking that far ahead. She simply took Equinox's hand and led her out to the Mejiro training field.
There were always plenty of horse girls training here. Though Song's own routine after the Japan Cup was the same as ever—no extra drills—she still showed up often, since so many she knew trained here.
And who, in the manor, was happiest about that these days?
The instructors Mejiro Manor had hired to run the training grounds.
It wasn't hard to see why.
Sure, the trainers Mejiro hired were already the best of the best in Japan—but that was still relative.
Put it this way—if it were a matter of coaching ability, were they going to beat Dancing Brave? What a joke.
Even without that example, against a legend of that caliber, none of them combined could compare.
And in the training world, intel was shared internationally. After all, there were only so many top-level races. Who trained which top winner could be traced—if you had the right network—through questions passed from one contact to another.
For Japan, the most important of those top international races was the Arc de Triomphe.
And this year's Arc winner—who had trained her?
That question had the entire global trainer circle buzzing, especially Japan's contacts abroad.
At first, most were casual about it—asking on behalf of others, expecting an answer soon enough. But that easygoing mood vanished quickly.
Because the truth was—there was no information to be found.
Who was the trainer of Silic, the Arc winner?
No one could give an answer that satisfied the whole circle.
But one possibility stood above the rest.
Rumor had it that during her prep races, Silic corresponded often with Dancing Brave—especially during the period when Song was in Paris training for the Irish Champion Stakes, Silic was seen visiting Brave's home frequently.
And…
That legendary historical mare, Dancing Brave, really did hold a trainer's license. And even if she hadn't—at her level as a tactical master on the track—if she stepped in to coach, she'd be nothing less than top-tier.
By now, in the trainer world, this was taken as more than just a strong possibility—it was a near certainty. And the instructors at Mejiro, having witnessed her ability firsthand, had already begun spreading what they'd seen.
With Brave's consent, of course.
So, what had they seen?
"Holy hell—how can someone guide this many horse girls at once and still miss nothing? Is Dancing Brave a monster?!"
How strong was Brave's coaching ability? Song had her own way of putting it—
Even Mejiro Dober, who didn't usually come for instruction every single day and often preferred training at the school with others, was now showing up on the dot daily.
Dancing Brave, you're the root cause of this anomaly.
Of course, Song wasn't about to mouth off at the Three Old Monster #3—for one simple reason: from the start, she'd thought about entrusting Vernal Equinox's training to the more capable Brave.
But Equinox's thinking was entirely different. Rather than a more skilled coach, she chose to trust the one who had first believed in her—Gotham Song.
So even though Song could have been a hands-off "manager" if she wanted Equinox to simply follow Brave, she chose instead to shoulder the weight of that trust she'd earned.
Which meant—on the field now, alongside Equinox, Song was…
A trainee of Dancing Brave.
That was why she absolutely wouldn't dare talk back to Brave.
Even under that unreadable, faintly complicated gaze of the old legend, she kept her best obedient face.
Patience.
Old Monster #3, I'm keeping score.
But her little sulk didn't last long—barely a moment, really—because Equinox's progress was enough to blow away her pettiness.
She still remembered Equinox's blank expression the day she'd said—
"No one expects Equinox to run fast."
But that was before.
"See? I told you Equinox was a good seedling. Now she's strong enough to hold her own even against classic-year runners."
"Yeah… on that point, your instincts are scary good. And that's without her even having fully matured yet. Makes me wonder if URA's in for another thrashing from one of your protégées in a year or two."
Brave's tone was thoughtful—but Song's mind snagged on something.
"My protégé…? Wait, hold on—what do you mean, Equinox's my protégé?"
"Hm? You mean you weren't planning to get a trainer's license? That wouldn't be hard for you now—especially in Japan."
Trainer licensing was done at the international level, but once you qualified in one country, there was no second review elsewhere.
From Brave's perspective, Song's coaching skills were still raw, but for a rookie trainer just starting out, she was more than capable.
And given how much care she'd shown Equinox, Brave had assumed she meant to become her official trainer.
But now…
Don't tell me, Song—you've never even considered it?
"O-of course I've thought about it, I just… didn't connect the dots right away. But if I became a trainer—does that mean Equinox's registration would only have our names on it?"
"Of course. Silic's form nearly had my signature on it. You've never experienced it, but the bond between a trainer and their assigned horse girl… once a mare chooses someone as her trainer—"
"That's giving them her remaining life. Even after retirement, the bond doesn't change. In fact, most horse girls and trainers, no matter the length of their careers, only ever have one such partnership. It's that weighty, that binding."
Brave paused, resting a hand—well, on Song's head—to signal she wasn't done.
"I think you understand how important you are to that little one. By your side, she'll never be doubted—never have to question herself. She can run without worry, following your guidance. That kind of safety? Not even parents can give it. Parental approval is never seen as pure the way this is."
"So I'm asking you plainly—do you have the courage and resolve to shoulder the entirety of Vernal Equinox's life as a horse girl?"
In a way, Song might well become a trainer because of Equinox.
And Equinox, because of Song, would inevitably walk the path of a racer. Which meant these two—already set to meet in the middle—needed nothing less than a mutual charge forward.
As a senior, Brave's job was to make sure Song truly understood what she'd be taking on, and what it would mean.
She was already a legend—a mare no one could forget, destined to be part of history. But if someone became her assigned horse girl after she took up training, that horse girl would bear the weight of that name too.
Would Equinox realize this?
Maybe not. And even if she did, that stubborn little one wouldn't change her choice. Slowness, in her case, was just another word for steadfast.
"Still… there's no rush. Or do you want me to play the go-between—tell Equinox what kind of resolve she'll need, what she'll face?"
"If you can't make that choice yet, Miss Gotham Song?"
Brave's voice was light—but in Song's ears, it was infuriating.
She bared her little tiger teeth at the older mare, shaking her fist for emphasis.
"I do know all that! But no matter what—whether we decide on an assignment or not—if we're going to talk about it, it should be me who goes to Equinox.
"Even you, Brave, don't get to insult my resolve like that!"
Letting Brave be the messenger would just be cowardice.
Song knew Brave didn't really think her weak. So what was this?
A provocation.
A clean, unavoidable, guaranteed-to-work provocation.
Song admitted it—she'd bitten down hard. But this time…
She intended to snap the hook in two.
She wanted to hear Equinox's answer—and then…
Respond to the resolve she knew would shine like sunlight on sweat.
Because Song knew Equinox was exactly the kind of awkward girl who would say—
"Please take the rest of my life, my trainer."
Handing such an obedient, gentle, lovable child to someone else?
Absolutely not.
She wouldn't allow it.