Uma Musume: It All Started When I Got Sent Flying Ten Meters

Chapter 27: What Kind of Monster Trainer Is This?!

The night of the paired running session between Kitasan Black and Daiwa Scarlet—

“Ehh—?! You mean I’m suited for the Front Runner style?!”

Kitasan Black’s voice rang out across the mostly empty dance hall, echoing slightly off the polished wooden floors. Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

“But then why did you make me run from the back during my debut race…?” she asked, blinking rapidly.

Sitting cross-legged in front of her, Makoto was silently swiping across his tablet, not responding immediately. Nearby, Daiwa Scarlet was casually inspecting the resistance bands that Kitasan had just finished using. Without looking up, she chimed in nonchalantly.

“That was for your future, Kita-chan.”

“My future...? What do you mean by that, Scarlet-senpai?”

Kitasan Black tilted her head, utterly confused.

Daiwa Scarlet blinked at her in surprise, then glanced over to Makoto with a look of mild guilt.

“…Wait, don’t tell me—Trainer Yasui hasn’t gone over your debut race with you yet?”

She looked genuinely shocked for a moment, then quickly bowed her head in apology.

“I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your training plans. That was out of line.”

Makoto gave a small shrug, waving her off casually.

“No worries. I was planning to go over it with her after the pair-run anyway.”

With that, he turned his tablet around and showed it to Kitasan Black.

“Kitasan, you learned about the basics of Front Runner tactics in class, right?”

“Hai!” she replied instantly, her hand shooting up like she was still in school.

“Let’s see… You’re supposed to sprint right at the start, secure the lead early, and keep it all the way to the finish line! Right? Trainer, I got it right, didn’t I?”

Makoto chuckled and nodded.

“Good answer. That’s the general idea.”

He tapped the tablet, bringing up a data chart as he continued.

“But to pull that off, you need explosive acceleration, consistent speed over distance, and most importantly—rhythm.”

“Rhythm…?”

“Exactly. When you're running all alone out in front, it’s easy to lose your sense of pace. If you can’t tell how far you’ve gone, how much is left, or how long it’s been, then you’re bound to mess up your stamina control.”

He looked her in the eye, voice steady.

“Do you remember what I told you during our first training session?”

“Hehe~ You said my gait was all over the place. That I had no sense of rhythm at all,” Kitasan said, scratching her head with a sheepish grin.

But then, something clicked.

Her eyes lit up. She leaned forward excitedly.

“Wait—So back then, you already figured out what kind of runner I was suited to be?!”

“And all the training after that… was planned with that in mind?!”

Daiwa Scarlet’s expression froze.

Her eyes darted back to Makoto in disbelief.

Basic gait training was something you usually did right after signing with a trainer… but if she remembered correctly, hadn’t Teio said these two didn’t even know each other before?

So you’re telling me… they weren’t even acquainted, and yet the moment he saw Kitasan, he could tell what running style suited her best?

And he set up her training accordingly?

What kind of monster trainer is this guy?!

Daiwa Scarlet was stunned.

The choice of a running style wasn’t something you could just guess. It involved so many factors—body type, leg structure, muscle strength, raw speed, burst power, endurance—All of it had to be taken into account.

Even seasoned, veteran trainers would never claim they could decide a new Umamusume’s best style at a glance. It normally took months of trial-and-error training and real race experience to make a reliable call.

Some girls didn’t find their ideal style until a year or two after their debut. That was the norm.

Daiwa Scarlet knew dozens of girls who went through that, including close friends and senior teammates.

And yet… this trainer?

While Daiwa Scarlet tried to wrap her head around it, Makoto calmly began explaining things to Kitasan.

“To be precise… it was just a guess at the time.”

He flipped through a few more charts, voice calm and matter-of-fact.

“I studied the public performance records of trainees over the past ten years. When I came across your data, I saw you had an above-average combination of explosive acceleration and long-distance stamina—for a rookie, at least.”

“With that kind of profile, naturally I considered whether Front Runner or Pace Chaser tactics would suit you.”

“And the reason I leaned toward Front Runner was because—”

Makoto paused for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully.

“…Your closing kick needs work.”

“Closing kick…?” Kitasan repeated, murmuring the phrase as if tasting it on her tongue. She lowered her head to look at her legs, then instinctively glanced at Daiwa Scarlet beside her.

“…Sorry, Kita-chan. Mine’s not great either,” Daiwa Scarlet admitted without hesitation, lifting her hands with a shrug.

“But I didn’t really need it back then to win races—well, except for one particular time when I—”

She suddenly cut herself off with a dry cough, awkwardly steering the conversation away.

“Ahem—Anyway, a strong closing kick is a very special kind of ability.”

She straightened her back and shifted into a more serious tone.

“It lets you unleash everything you’ve got in the final stretch—pouring all your remaining energy into one last burst of terrifying speed.”

“In theory, every running style benefits from having a good closing kick. But not everyone’s born with it. You can’t just wish it into existence.”

“In comparison, Front Runners can rely on positional advantage. If they can secure a lead early and maintain it, they can still win even without a powerful finish.”

“From what I saw today, you’ve got excellent acceleration and can maintain high speeds over a decent stretch.”

“But your control over raw power—your ability to manage it at a granular level—isn’t quite at the level where we can talk about a proper closing kick yet.”

“So, all things considered, Front Runner or a forward positioning running style like Pace Chaser fits you best.”

“—Ah, oops. I said way too much again. Trainer Yasui, that’s your job to explain, isn’t it?”

She scratched her cheek, looking a bit embarrassed.

“It’s fine,” Makoto said with a small smile. “It doesn’t matter who explains it, as long as she understands.”

Then he turned to Kitasan Black, his expression turning serious again.

“Daiwa-san is right. The most compatible running styles for you are Front Runner, followed by Long Front Runner and Pace Chaser.”

“In other words—what you used in your debut race wasn’t actually your optimal running style.”

“That running style was risky. I was fully prepared for you to lose that debut.”

“L-Lose?” Kitasan blinked, shocked. “But I thought I did fine—I even won!”

“That just means my judgment was on the mark,” Makoto said with a wry chuckle. “And it means you didn’t let my gamble go to waste.”

He tapped the tablet, bringing up her performance data, then explained further.

“By the time we got to your debut race, your sense of rhythm had improved quite a bit. Your acceleration and sustained speed were already solid—that’s your natural strength.”

“Given the level of competition in debut races, where everyone’s still unrefined, I calculated that a forced breakout and long-distance acceleration would be enough to secure a win.”

“But that’s also where the danger lay.”

“If you’d mistimed your move… if the field got too crowded and you couldn’t break out… then that would’ve been it. Nothing I could do from the sidelines.”

“But I judged it was worth the risk.”

“You won’t always be leading every race. Sooner or later, someone will overtake you.”

“And the more important the race, the harder it’ll be to mentally handle getting passed.”

“That’s why I let you feel that pressure now. Early races like the debut and the few after that—losing them isn’t the end of the world.”

“Many of the best Umamusume didn’t start their careers with a perfect record. So even if you had lost… as long as it prepared you for future victories, it would’ve been worth it.”

He leaned in slightly, looking her directly in the eyes.

“Of course, I’m not saying you’re allowed to lose. From here on out, your opponents won’t be clueless rookies. I’ll start adjusting your race plans with more precision.”

“I didn’t explain all this earlier because, frankly, you didn’t have the experience to process it yet.”

“But from now on, I’ll be bringing you into the loop—step by step.”

“So listen closely, Kitasan. I want you to start thinking and understanding on your own, too.”

Without hesitation, Kitasan Black nodded firmly.

“Yes! Like I said before—whatever you say, Trainer, I’ll follow it with everything I’ve got!”

Her reply was so full of energy and conviction that it brought a warm smile to Makoto’s face.

Even Daiwa Scarlet couldn’t help but grin.

As the atmosphere in the room lightened, Daiwa Scarlet cast a glance toward Makoto, who had begun explaining the next stage of training in detail.

…“If it leads to real growth, then losing a debut race is worth it.”

That might be true in theory, she thought.

But to say it so casually—to use it in someone’s first ever race without blinking…

This guy…

This Trainer…

Daiwa Scarlet narrowed her eyes, silently watching him with growing awe.

He really is a monster.

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Note: closing kick is the unique skill, Scarlet closing skill is Red Ace