From Tokai Teio's words and the way her eyes met Mejiro McQueen's, Yasui caught a subtle undercurrent, but he didn't dwell on it.
Japan's racing system had originally been modeled after those in Europe and America. Ever since, success in major overseas races had become one of the highest benchmarks for an Uma Musume and her Trainer. In recent years the industry had placed even greater emphasis on overseas competitions, with more and more Uma Musume heading abroad. Strong results at home remained the essential foundation.
Still, there was no point worrying about distant future races right now. Finishing the Classic Triple Crown came first.
"I understand. Like I said before, I'll give it everything I've got."
Yasui gave his solemn agreement once more.
"Good. I'll let you know the details as soon as I hear anything."
Tokai Teio nodded, her serious expression melting into a bright smile.
"Anyway, I ended up talking way too much about training. Let's take a break! This is Kita-chan's first G1 win, the start of her Classic Triple Crown—the Satsuki Sho victory party! I say we raise another toast to her triumph... Cheers!"
"Oh—! Cheers!"
The mood lightened instantly. The air filled with the fresh scent of sushi, the tang of drinks, and the savory sizzle of grilled saury over charcoal. Having a wide network through his Uma Musume had already brought real benefits, and he intended to keep nurturing those connections.
The next target was the Japanese Derby. The training plan would likely follow a similar pattern to the Satsuki Sho: focused special training first, then practice races against experienced seniors, followed by adjustments based on results. Among the seniors who had been helping Kitasan Black, both Vodka and Special Week were Derby veterans—their guidance would be invaluable. If he could arrange practice bouts against Deep Impact and Orfevre as well, the benefits would be even greater. To make that happen, he needed to pour in the same level of effort he'd promised.
After the dinner, Yasui planned to head home early and get a solid night's rest before diving into tomorrow's training. But Kitasan Black's invitation as they parted changed his mind.
"Trainer, would you come over to my place tomorrow afternoon? Grandpa's been saying over and over that he wants to invite you. He really wants to thank you properly. You should've seen him earlier—he was so excited he almost rushed onto the Winner's Stage to sing a song himself! He kept saying it felt like the Kohaku Uta Gassen or something. Anyway, if you're free, I'll be waiting for you."
Yasui understood Kitajima Saburo's excitement perfectly. After decades of supporting races without a G1 victory, his granddaughter had finally delivered one. Of course the old man wanted to celebrate in his own way and express his gratitude. Yasui agreed without hesitation.
===
The next afternoon, however, the scene that greeted him at Kitasan Black's house was far more extravagant than he'd imagined.
The moment the butler opened the wooden gate, a lively explosion of sound and energy burst out. Dozens of Kitajima family disciples in indigo happi coats lined both sides of the courtyard. Some waved folding fans energetically, others struck massive taiko drums with full force, all chanting "Heiyo!" in unison. The rhythmic beats and calls echoed through the space, making the red lanterns sway overhead. Beneath each lantern hung photos or posters of a black-haired girl crossing the finish line. In front of them stood a tall stack of sake barrels, nearly three meters high.
Standing proudly before the barrels in formal attire, strumming a lively melody on his vermilion shamisen, was Kitajima Saburo himself—looking every bit like he was hosting a full-blown festival.
Yasui realized Kitasan Black hadn't been exaggerating last night. Without her intervention, the old man probably would have treated the Winner's Stage like the Kohaku Uta Gassen and launched into "Matsuri" or an Awa Odori right there.
"Trainer!"
Kitasan Black's voice cut through the noise. Footsteps hurried along the wooden corridor. When Yasui turned, he froze for a moment.
Her usual ponytail was gone, replaced by a neat bun secured with an ornate maple-leaf hairpin in gold and red. A vibrant blue obi wrapped her waist, accentuating her figure, while the silver patterns on her crimson long-sleeved furisode caught the light as she moved. The sleeves swayed gracefully, revealing delicate wrists tied with gold cords. A subtle, clean fragrance—perhaps sandalwood or festival incense—reached him, so different from the usual scent of sweat and grass after training.
The girl who had pushed herself to the limit at the finish line last night now carried herself with a quiet, dignified elegance. Yet the moment she spotted him and rushed over, her excited energy returned in full.
"Trainer! I—"
She started to grab his arm, then seemed to catch herself. Her hand withdrew, and she smiled a little awkwardly, shifting in place.
"This outfit... Grandpa insisted. He said a champion needs to look the part in a proper furisode. I've never worn anything like this before, so... it feels really strange, doesn't it?"
Yasui straightened his collar and managed a smile.
"...It suits you."
He paused, then added more softly, "It looks really good on you, Kita-chan. Your new clothes today... they suit you perfectly."
"Hehe, actually I wear this kind of thing for festivals all the time... Oh no!"
She laughed and scratched her head out of habit, knocking the hairpin loose. With a small yelp she caught it, then held it between her lips while quickly retying her hair.
"Sorry for making you wait, Trainer."
Once her hair was back in place, she reached out her hand again with a bright smile.
"Then... welcome to today's Champion Special Festival, Trainer!"