Tokai Teio's results were improving steadily. With the shoes boosting her, her training efficiency had clearly gone up—but for some reason, every single time she showed up wearing her old training sneakers. Even when Kaito told her to switch to her race shoes, she refused to listen. In the end, it fell to Kaito to change them for her every day.
And every time he did, Teio's feet refused to behave. They kicked and swayed restlessly, more than once planting themselves squarely against Kaito's face.
Her soft toes would hook lightly at his lips, tugging his face closer, the corners of her mouth curving into a faint, almost teasing smile.
This was supposed to be a game world—yet in this regard, Tokai Teio displayed an ability far beyond the others. It was… clearly abnormal. And that wasn't the only thing that made her different. There was also the heart icon tied to her affection level.
For normal Uma Musume, even at max affection, a pink heart would appear.
Teio's heart, however, was a deep crimson.
At first it hadn't been that color. But the more times it was triggered, the darker it became. Kaito had no idea whether this was the final stage—or if it might grow even deeper in hue later on.
Still, as the saying went: worry about tomorrow tomorrow.Kaito had learned to enjoy the present.
Aside from missions, he'd given up thinking too hard about everything else. The less he thought, the happier he was. After all, who could guarantee tomorrow wouldn't be worse?
Besides—Teio's feet smelled really nice.He didn't mind at all.
Compared to Teio, the stat growth of the others was… concerning. Many geniuses gained only a tiny amount. Kaito guessed it was because their proper debut timing hadn't arrived yet, so their growth was pitifully small.
According to Uma Musume lore, they hadn't entered their true rapid-growth phase, so their improvements were limited.
That was when Kaito had an idea.
What if he lent Teio's shoes to the others, letting them benefit from the shoes' stats?
He tried it—and it worked.
But the moment he handed the shoes over, Tokai Teio's mood plummeted straight to rock bottom. Even headpats couldn't save it.
Only after Kaito put the shoes back on her—and then gently patted her head—did Teio's mood begin to recover, slowly.
Clearly, if he gave her shoes to someone else, Teio herself would be ruined. That item had already become her exclusive possession.
Next time I go back to the real world, I'll buy everyone their own pair, Kaito thought. Once my whole team is fully equipped, I won't have to panic during races anymore.
Following that line of thought, Kaito realized it probably wasn't just shoes. Clothes, socks, wristbands, thigh bands—maybe they all had special effects. Some might even be stronger than shoes, granting massive stat bonuses.
The thought alone energized him.
For the first time, he truly felt the joy of raising characters. A game was about enjoying the growth of numbers—he didn't want the only thing increasing in this world to be affection.
Showing off was a lifelong pursuit.
"All right—today's training ends here!"
Kaito announced to his Uma Musume. The green stamina bars above their heads were nearly depleted. If they continued, their mood would drop, and there'd be a risk of illness.
He always paid close attention to that. Teio had barely ever been injured—the worst was a one-day ankle sprain. Injuries showed up as debuff icons with a duration timer. Once the timer ended, the injury healed. Forcing training could extend the duration, and training while injured reduced effectiveness.
"Go back and rest properly. We'll continue tomorrow."
Even knowing his words didn't really matter, Kaito still said them. Bottling everything up and talking to no one—like a mute—would lower his mood too.
People needed an outlet.
After replying with a unified "Yes!", the Uma Musume headed back toward the dorms. Kaito, meanwhile, made his way to the gym.
There were no miracle strengthening drugs at Tracen, so the only way for him to grow was through effort.
Kaito hoped his stamina would one day reach the point where, even if an Uma Musume came at him proactively, he could turn the tables.
A man had to have dreams.
He wanted to become the first man to conquer Uma Musume with sheer stamina.
At the gym, Kaito warmed up. He lifted the barbell—after one set, sweat began to bead on his skin, his condition improving by the second.
That was when the six-plate barbell beside him was lifted with one hand.
Turning his head, Kaito saw her.
Long black hair. Orange eyes. A wild, feral presence.
Narita Brian.
Her slender arm erupted with terrifying strength as she hoisted the six-ring barbell single-handedly.
Every time Kaito witnessed something like this, his face twitched. To Uma Musume, lifting an adult human probably felt like picking up a chick.
"Morning, Brian."
"Morning, Trainer."
The greeting dialogue triggered. Narita Brian replied casually. She came here every day at this hour, training for two full hours. It was her routine—no orders required.
She'd effectively become Kaito's instructor. He often sat nearby, watching her movements. Compared to him, a complete amateur, an Uma Musume's form was far more precise.
Soon, Narita Brian's body heated up. Steam-like mist rose from her skin. Sweat streamed down her forehead, cheeks, and neck.
She pulled off her top, revealing a black sports bra that tightly wrapped her impressive chest—and beneath it, the beautiful, toned curve of her abdomen.
Uma Musume muscles were different from human ones—soft, resilient, never bulking up into rigid blocks no matter how much they trained. Most of them were like that.
But Narita Brian's definition was far clearer than the others'.
Anyone who liked women with muscle tone would be utterly captivated by her.
Setting the dumbbells down, Narita Brian searched for a towel.
Kaito handed one to her.
She glanced at it… then stood there, unmoving.
After waiting a moment with no response, Kaito simply stepped forward and wiped her down himself—from her forehead to her lower abdomen.
A strong scent of sweat filled the air, completely overpowering her original, rich body fragrance.
Once he finished wiping her clean, Narita Brian flushed, exhaling sharply. Her golden-orange eyes wavered.
"N–next set…" Her voice trembled slightly as she moved into sit-ups.
After three sets, she stopped and turned her head.
"The towel… where did I put it?"
Kaito walked over again and wiped her down once more.
This time, Narita Brian turned her back to him on her own, lifting her arms in sync with his movements—exposing her clean underarms.
Mixed with sweat, a new, peculiar scent spread through the air.