Chapter 61. The Emperor's Gift
The following morning, Shuta An woke in the master bedroom and stretched with a quiet yawn.
In the Dream World the night before, he had met Tokai Teio again after several months apart. Given Teio's physical condition, Trainer Matsumoto Shoichi had decided to send him directly to the Kikuka Sho without a prep race. As the undefeated Two-Crown champion, he qualified automatically, and one fewer start meant reduced physiological load—an entirely rational decision from a conditioning standpoint.
For Shuta An, that judgment aligned perfectly with his own assessment. Teio's aerobic efficiency over extended distances was not exceptional; minimizing cumulative fatigue increased his win probability.
"In practical terms," he reflected, "this year's generation lacks depth. If any of the top three from last year's Kikuka Sho had remained on the Triple Tiara route, Teio's margin would be extremely narrow."
After washing up, he found himself disinclined toward breakfast. Instead, he stepped into the backyard to observe Beverly Hills at dawn—the coastline faintly illuminated beyond the estate grounds.
As he crossed the terrace, he paused.
Tokai Teio stood beneath a palm tree, gazing up at the fronds swaying against the pale sky.
"Oh. Good morning," he said.
"Good morning, Trainer~!" She turned with undiminished energy.
"You rested well," he observed clinically. "I hope you're adapting to the environment."
"I heard from Senior Miesque that nothing here has changed since you were young. Is that true?"
"Yes." He walked to her side and leaned against the trunk. "These palms were planted when my parents married. They're older than I am."
He brushed the bark lightly.
"They no longer hold commercial value as crops. But when I was a child, I climbed these trees constantly. Those days were—uncomplicated."
A brief stillness settled over him.
Teio noticed the subtle shift in his tone. For a fleeting second, she almost blurted out that she would buy the estate back for him. Yet she understood the financial magnitude involved. Even her own family could not casually reclaim such property.
That realization, oddly enough, steadied her.
Shuta An shook off the weight of memory.
"When I learned our Breeders' Cup preparations would center around Hollywood Park Racetrack, I considered driving past this place from a distance," he admitted. "I never expected to be living here again. I owe Miss Secretariat my gratitude."
Teio's curiosity flickered—particularly regarding his financial circumstances—but she suppressed the question. It was not her place.
After breakfast, both Secretariat and Miesque prepared to leave.
Before departing, Secretariat tossed him a set of car keys.
"I won't be visiting frequently. Academy matters require my attention. There's a car in the garage for you. Transportation here is inconvenient without one."
Miesque watched her leave and sighed lightly. "She truly is generous."
"How about this," Shuta An suggested with a faint smile. "Senior Miesque could share mile-race strategy with Dober."
"Impossible," she replied immediately. "With the Breeders' Cup approaching, I'm fully occupied. I would hardly qualify as a responsible instructor."
She lifted an eyebrow.
"However, I have considered an alternative gift."
"What is it?"
"An invitation to next year's American Oaks Invitational."
She turned toward Mejiro Dober.
"A 2000-meter turf race at Hollywood Park, scheduled for July 6 next year. Exclusively for Triple Tiara-route Uma Musume."
Shuta An frowned slightly. "There hasn't been an American Oaks."
"There will be," Miesque said calmly. "I've already coordinated with Hollywood Park management and West Coast industry representatives. The race will debut as a G1."
She pointed gently toward Dober.
"As an invitational event, participation is by selection only. Consider this your invitation."
Mejiro Dober stiffened. "Am I truly qualified?"
"You won the Natalma Stakes. You are currently regarded as the leading favorite for the Breeders' Cup Juvenile Fillies Turf. If you are not qualified, the invitation list would be very short indeed," Miesque replied with a reassuring smile. "Be confident. At present, you are the strongest turf Uma Musume in North America within your debut cohort."
The qualifiers were implicit—but "strongest" remained the operative term.
After escorting Miesque out, Shuta An turned to the three of them.
"Tomorrow, Suzuka and I return to Japan to prepare for the Tenno Sho (Autumn)," he stated evenly. "Teio will remain here with Dober. Secretariat's support team will manage logistics. I'll finalize and transmit the training schedules later."
"So soon?" Teio's surprise was immediate. "You said you were happy to relive old memories here—"
"One cannot remain oriented toward the past," he answered quietly.
His gaze settled on Silence Suzuka.
"For me, you are the future that demands focus."
Two days later, Shuta An and Silence Suzuka completed the eleven-hour transpacific flight and landed at Narita Airport at 5 p.m. Tokyo time.
"For the next week, prioritize physiological recovery," Shuta An said calmly as they made their way through the terminal. "No load-bearing intensity. Just light conditioning and neuromuscular maintenance at Central Tracen Academy. Structured Tenno Sho (Autumn) preparation begins in two weeks."
"I understand," Silence Suzuka replied with a steady nod. "I'll restore my condition properly."
"For this year's Tenno Sho (Autumn), the registered field lacks depth," he added.
Suzuka's gaze drifted slightly. "I wonder how Sunny Brian's recovery is progressing. Her trainer hasn't disclosed anything publicly. I hope she enters. I'd like to settle things properly."
Back at the academy, Shuta Trainer sent Suzuka to her dormitory and chose to take a taxi home. As expected, neither Oguri Cap nor Berno Light was present. A quick glance around confirmed they had only stepped out and would return later.
"I'll shower and sleep," he muttered. Eleven hours in economy seating was draining, no matter one's discipline.
After a brief bath, he collapsed into deep, dreamless sleep.
Sometime in the early hours before dawn, he surfaced from unconsciousness with a faint sense of displacement.
He opened his eyes—and found Oguri Cap staring directly down at him.
Only then did he realize the situation.
The gray-haired Uma Musume was straddling him.
The silence that followed was dense.
"So you waited until I was fully asleep—and until Berno was asleep as well?" Shuta An sat up slowly, reached for a glass of warm water, and spoke evenly.
"It's been a while," Oguri Cap replied without embarrassment. "I was about to proceed when you suddenly woke up."
"Is that my responsibility?" he countered dryly. "I messaged both of you on Line. I returned from Los Angeles, slept at six in the evening. The timeline was clear. Could this not have waited until tomorrow?"
"It is tomorrow," she tilted her head, perfectly serious.
He set the glass aside. His response was physical rather than verbal. When he next opened his eyes, sunlight filtered faintly through the curtains. Oguri Cap was gone.
The clock read nearly noon.
After washing up, he went downstairs. The house was quiet. On the table sat a sandwich and a bowl of miso soup—clear evidence that the previous night had not been a hallucination.
A note lay beside the plate.
"Berno and I went out to train again!!! Ann, rest well! I asked Miss Rudolf for leave for you!"
Shuta An stared at the handwriting.
"I had already informed Symboli Rudolf I would rest at home for five days," he muttered. "With Oguri requesting leave separately, Miss Rudolf will inevitably overanalyze the situation."
As predicted, when he returned to Central Tracen Academy the following Monday, he had scarcely sat down before being summoned to the Student Council office.
He knocked and entered upon permission.
After taking a seat on the sofa, he spoke first. "Miss Rudolf, you requested me early. If it concerns Teio, she is adapting well in Los Angeles. She is residing at Miss Secretariat's villa, and I have borrowed her support team to oversee Tokai Teio and Mejiro Dober. There are no issues."
"I had no intention of asking about Teio," Symboli Rudolf replied with a composed smile. "I have also seen the North American media coverage. Their evaluation of her is remarkably high."
"That reflects training performance metrics," Shuta An responded. "Even without full maturation, her speed-phase output during joint sessions with Dober already matches Canada's leading prospects. Frankly, this is unsurprising."
"All she lacks is formal maturation acknowledgment. In raw ability, she is already capable of competing on the Twinkle Series stage."
He exhaled softly. "It is difficult to predict how explosive her performance will be once she officially debuts."
"I look forward to it as well," Symboli Rudolf said. "After I won the Japanese Derby, Teio approached me and declared she wanted to become a Uma Musume like me. At the time, I interpreted it as youthful spirit. Even Maruzensky explained to her what that standard required."
Her gaze lowered slightly.
"But her objective has changed. Teio no longer seeks to emulate me. She intends to surpass me—surpass Oguri Cap—surpass every predecessor—and become the strongest Uma Musume in Japanese history."
Their eyes met.
"I believe such an ambition is only viable under your guidance."
Shuta An did not flinch.
"I cannot guarantee outcomes. You understand as well as I do that a Uma Musume's career is influenced heavily by stochastic factors—injury risk, field composition, timing. I will optimize her development. Beyond that, fortune plays its role."
Seeing the discussion naturally conclude, Symboli Rudolf rose, retrieved a carefully wrapped parcel from her desk, and handed it to him.
"A small gift."
He weighed it in his hands. Several boxed items.
Without hesitation, he opened it.
"What?"
Stacked neatly inside were multiple boxes of medicine labeled "Kampō Hachimijiōgan."
His expression flattened. He slowly pushed the package back across the table.
"I am not yet at an age that requires renal-support tonics."
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