"Spe-chan, do you want to race at the central circuit in the future?"
On the way back, Platinum suddenly posed this question to Special Week, throwing the young filly into a flustered panic.
"Huh? Wha—? M-me? There's no way I could make it as an Uma Musume in the central circuit right away!"
"Oh ho? 'Right away,' you say? So your ultimate goal really is to break into the central circuit, but you feel you still need more training for now."
Platinum's teasing grin sent waves of crimson flushing across Special Week's cheeks.
"Well…"
"Don't be shy about it. You're an Uma Musume, after all—what Uma Musume doesn't dream of running on the big stage?"
With Centaurea's gentle reassurance, Special Week's ears, which had drooped in embarrassment, perked right back up.
"That's right—I want to become Japan's Greatest Uma Musume!"
With fierce determination, Special Week shouted the words aloud, sudden and bright.
The outburst made Platinum's ears instinctively flick backward, though they soon relaxed again.
"No need to yell…"
"Sorry, sorry…"
Platinum's complaint and Special Week's apology echoed one after the other along the quiet roadside.
--+--
"Thank you for having us today."
As evening fell, Special Week and her adoptive mother stood at the orphanage gate, saying their goodbyes to Aunt Komori and Centaurea.
Today's visit had fulfilled a wish held by both families.
Spe-chan's mother had learned how her old friend was doing these days, and her daughter had made friends with an Uma Musume—and they seemed to get along wonderfully.
Though it was a shame they hadn't been able to see Nearl, that was a small matter. They'd meet her someday.
"Don't mention it. Feel free to come by anytime—no need to call ahead. Just think of this as your home."
"In that case, I'd suddenly have so many more children to look after. That's a lot of pressure, you know!"
The two women bantered warmly, their closeness unmistakable—no one would have guessed it was their first meeting in nearly ten years.
In contrast, things weren't quite so cheerful on Special Week's side.
Children never like goodbyes, and Special Week was the honest, simple type—an Uma Musume who couldn't hide her feelings to save her life.
"Waaah! Rea, I'm leaving now… I'm gonna miss you!"
Special Week clung to Centaurea, her face streaked with tears, rubbing her cheek messily against Platinum's jacket until her face was all smushed out of shape.
"You little…"
Platinum stared down at her tear-soaked, crumpled clothes, her ears tilting back in annoyance.
Even so, she held her temper and reached out to pat Special Week's head half-heartedly.
"It's fine. I'll come visit you soon, okay? It won't be long."
"Mm-hm."
Watching her rather dramatic daughter, the adoptive mother could only sigh in resignation.
She stepped forward and gently pulled Special Week away, then turned to Platinum with an apologetic look.
"I'm really sorry she's been such a handful. Please feel free to visit our ranch anytime—we've got delicious carrots waiting."
"See you later."
With that, the blonde woman firmly tugged the reluctant Special Week along and walked off without looking back, leaving Matron Komori and Platinum to watch them go.
"They're off, then…"
Only after Special Week and her mother had completely vanished from sight did a faint trace of loneliness surface in Matron Komori's expression.
"Matron, Spe-chan says her dream is to become an Uma Musume in the central circuit."
Platinum spoke up suddenly, her tone unreadable.
"Oh really? So that child has such big dreams. That's good."
The principal recalled how much Special Week resembled her mother, and linking that to the girl's aspirations gave her a strange sense of déjà vu.
"Matron, I want to help Spe-chan."
Platinum's unexpected declaration made Komori turn and look at her.
"Help her? With what?"
"With her speed, of course—and her understanding of the track."
"If you're willing to go, then go. I'll cover for you here. Special Week is her mother's daughter, after all. If her mother knew, she'd be happy with her daughter's choice."
Hearing Platinum's plan, Komori Party felt an indescribable sense of joy.
"If only Nearl had the time… But she's busy with the year-end Arima Kinen right now. No time to come back."
Matron Komori wasn't just making excuses—Nearl really had gone to the central district just before the Arima Kinen.
But "busy" wasn't quite accurate. This time, she'd simply gone as a spectator.
She was going to watch the ultimate showdown between her friends Tamamo Cross and Oguri Cap.
It was mostly because Trainer Kitahara had told her: "The Kasamatsu Year-End Prize is the last long-standing, hard-to-cancel race of the year."
"From now until February next year, there aren't many races left. Nearl, why not go to the central circuit and see the Arima Kinen—one of the highest peaks of Japanese racing, the grand year-end event?"
And so Nearl went to the central circuit—though this time, she finally booked a hotel room.
(Mr. C.B. expressed regret.)
"The central district's already starting to feel like the New Year. Or maybe it's more like Christmas?"
Strolling through the now-familiar streets, Nearl noticed specks of red beginning to dot even the less conspicuous corners.
"The festive atmosphere is really setting in. Maybe I should start thinking about what gifts to prepare…"
Turning the thought over in her mind, Nearl continued walking toward Tracen Academy.
But as she passed an intersection, her gaze was drawn upward to a massive banner hanging from a nearby building.
Looking up, she saw two familiar figures positioned on either side, posed as if in a face-off—a tension anyone could feel at a glance.
"Tamamo-senpai and Oguri Cap… The whole country's watching them now."
Nearl recalled the Tamamo Cross dolls and Oguri Cap plushies she'd seen along the way and couldn't help but marvel at the race's soaring popularity.
"Of course. It's a clash between the old and the new—this Arima Kinen is the climax. People can't help but pay attention."
Just then, an unfamiliar woman's voice came from behind Nearl. The voice was gentle and graceful—the kind that radiated warmth and big-sisterly charm.
Nearl turned around and, sure enough, was met with the sight of a stunning beauty.
But strangely, before most people noticed her looks, they'd first sense an aura of maternal kindness.
Thick brown hair was tied into a long, heavy braid hanging down her back, with a smaller strand woven at the temple adding a touch of youthful vitality.
A light-blue dress, accented with white, was elegant and simple, yet perfectly highlighted her striking figure.
From any angle, she was a flawless young woman—and the two ears perked up on her head only added to her charm.
She extended her hand and introduced herself with graceful poise.
"Hello, I'm Super Creek."
--+--
T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 3 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.