Chapter 4 — I Think I’m the Only One Who Can Hear Them
Some more time passed.
I’d gotten used to ranch life… more or less.
Though “used to it” didn’t mean I stopped thinking I want to sleep a little longer every morning.
It just meant my body started moving on its own.
The arms that carried hay, the back bent over cleaning, the hands touching the horses—apparently all of it looked more natural than before.
At the very least, the horses complained less now.
“Kid, today’s brushing passes.”
“Better than yesterday.”
“The water’s not lukewarm. Good.”
Their way of praising me is weird, but whatever.
“Saku.”
Grandpa calls out to me from outside the stable.
He seems to be in a better mood than usual today.
His expression is as gruff as ever, but the way he walks feels a little lighter.
“What?”
“Stonebreak’s racing.”
“Oh, her.”
She’s one of the few active racehorses on our ranch, and the horse who’d had a big attitude ever since I came here.
About a month ago, she’d been hauled off in a horse transport truck.
At the time she’d been yelling things like:
“NOOO!! THEY’RE GONNA PUT ME ON A DIET AGAIN!!”
Apparently Stonebreak was running in a race next week.
Grandpa said:
“Go watch.”
“Huh?”
“You’re the acting ranch owner. If you don’t know the field, you’re useless.”
“Okay…”
“And.”
Grandpa shoots me a sharp look.
“You’ve never actually seen one of our horses race, have you?”
“…No.”
“Then watch. If you’re a rancher, burn the sight of your horse running into your eyes.”
And with that single sentence, I was sent off.
A racetrack, huh.
Even when I lived in Sapporo, I never went once.
◇
Grandpa drove me into town, and from there I took a bus to Sapporo.
No time to revisit my old university, another transfer, then straight to the racecourse.
The sky of the city is different from the sky in Shizunai. The sound of buildings, people and cars.
I’d lived here until recently, but somehow it already felt nostalgic.
The racecourse was bigger than I expected.
The entrance was huge, and there were more families and kids around than I thought there’d be.
Following the signs, I headed toward the paddock.
There, inside the circular walking ring, horses were walking one after another.
“Whoa…”
The word slips out before I can stop it.
A sight I’d seen countless times in games was right in front of me.
Dark bay. Bay. Chestnut.
Every horse had a different coat and presence.
And then—
“Man, there are a lotta people today.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Isn’t the turf harder than yesterday?”
“I’m hungry.”
“Hey there, sweetheart. Nice butt.”
“HEY! OI, OLD MAN! YOU WATCHING!?”
“You nervous?”
“No I’m not.”
THE HORSES ARE SO LOUD!!
It’s not just the horses from our ranch or Gold Farm.
The other horses are also talking.
Moreover, normally.
And yet none of the people around me react at all.
I stare around the paddock with my mouth half open.
Everyone’s casually saying things like:
“Oh, nice physique.”
“Looks calm today.”
But—
nobody reacts to the horses’ conversations.
Even when someone laughs, they weren’t laughing at what the horses said.
They’re just interpreting things based on atmosphere or friendly-looking gestures.
I let out a quiet breath.
Honestly, I thought that there might be other people who could hear them among the horse professionals.
Like maybe some legendary horse racing gambler or something.
“You’re Sakurai Saku-kun, correct?”
While I’m thinking that, a middle-aged man speaks to me.
“Ah, yes. Oh, are you perhaps…”
“Yep, I’m Okabe, Stonebreak’s trainer. Nice to meet you. Wow, you’re young.”
Mr. Okabe.
The trainer Grandpa had contacted beforehand.
“Sorry for making you come find me. Thank you for today.”
I hurriedly bow my head.
I really shouldn’t have been zoning out at the paddock.
“It’s fine. We’re still early anyway.”
He smiles kindly.
I’m glad he seems to be a good person.
“This is called the paddock. I’ll go saddle up after this, so come with me.”
“Yes, sir.”
I obediently follow him through some mysterious passage until we arrive at an area packed with horses.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spot a horse with an especially oversized attitude.
Stonebreak.
Her coat is gleaming.
…Maybe it’s just the setting, but she somehow looks more radiant than she did back at the ranch.
Naturally, Stonebreak is already talking to another horse.
Please behave yourself.
I can see the other horse’s number cloth.
Number 8.
“Hey. You don’t look so well.”
At Stonebreak’s voice, the number 8 horse replies sluggishly.
“Yeah… my left leg feels kinda weird. Don’t really wanna run.”
Uh-oh.
That sounds bad.
“Hahaha, it’s almost like those two are chatting.”
Some nearby staff members laugh.
“They’ve seen each other a few times before.”
“Maybe they’re friends?”
“Hope they both do well.”
—They really can’t hear it.
Uh, excuse me, the horse literally just said something feels wrong with its leg.
At that moment, Stonebreak notices me and casually calls out.
“Heeey, Saku.”
She trots over toward me.
Beside me, Mr. Okabe looks delighted.
“Oh, this girl recognizes you! You must’ve taken good care of her at the ranch.”
That’s not it.
This horse complained about my caretaking literally until the day she left.
“Oh, Stone. I’m here to see you.”
I answer her anyway.
“You heard that horse earlier?”
“Number 8?”
“Yeah. The one with the dead-looking face.”
“I don’t know about dead-looking.”
As expected , I can’t read that much into facial expressions.
“”Anyway, that horse.”
Stonebreak snorts and lowers her voice slightly.
“She says her left leg feels weird and she doesn’t wanna run.”
“I heard, but horses really get feelings like that, huh?”
“Yep. Totally. Hard to explain, but it’s like… a bad feeling.”
Stonebreak glances at me.
“So tell them.”
“…What?”
“Tell them she doesn’t wanna run.”
Don’t say it like it’s obvious.
“Uh…”
“What?”
“…I’ll try.”
Even though I’m pretty sure it’ll be pointless.
Around us are people who look like staff. People who look like jockeys. Everyone seems to be busy.
Beside me, Mr. Okabe watches me curiously as I apparently talk to a horse.
“What’s wrong, Saku-kun?”
“Umm…”
How do I even phrase this?
“Uh… are those people over there connected to horse number 8?”
“Hm? Yes, the trainer and jockey.”
“Excuse me for just a moment.”
If I explain everything, it’ll probably just cause trouble for Mr. Okabe too, so I decide to go directly to them.
“Um…”
When I call out, the trainer-looking man turns around.
Arms crossed, he looks me up and down.
“What is it?”
I swallow and force out as normal a voice as possible.
“I think horse number 8 might have something wrong with its leg.”
The man glares at me.
“Hm? And who exactly are you?”
“Ah, I’m the acting ranch owner for Stonebreak.”
“Hmph.”
He snorts dismissively.
“And what would a youngster like you know? You’re just jealous of our horse. Off with you.”
He shoos me away with his hand.
…Yeah. Figures.
I return with a bitter smile.
As I walk back, some nearby staff glance over like What was that about?, but nobody asks further.
“How’d it go?”
Stonebreak asks.
“They didn’t listen.”
“WHY NOT!?”
Stonebreak sounds genuinely furious.
Sorry.
“Mm, well… to them I’m just some inexperienced kid talking nonsense.”
“What does that mean?”
Stonebreak genuinely doesn’t understand.
“Hmmm…”
I think for a moment.
“Don’t horses have something similar? Like, if a horse that’s won big races says something, everyone listens more seriously?”
“Ahhh.”
Stonebreak nods in understanding.
“I get it. Like, ‘If a horse that amazing says so…’”
Oh wow, she got it immediately.
“That’s basically it.”
Stonebreak falls silent for a while.
Then quietly:
“…Got it. Leave it to me.”
“?”
“Saku.”
“Yeah?”
“Watch me.”
Her eyes seem a little sharper than usual.
Mr. Okabe chuckles happily.
“Hm? Looks like Stonebreak’s fired up today.”
“She told me to watch her.’”
“Hahaha, that’s great. Sounds promising.”
Yeah, that’s about the reaction I expected.
Honestly, the fact he didn’t say Are you insane? just proves Mr. Okabe is kind.
Stonebreak looks at me one last time.
Then the jockey arrives, mounts up, and the horses are led away.
“Oh, she’s motivated today.”
“You can tell? I’m counting on you.”
I absentmindedly watch the conversation between the jockey and Mr. Okabe.
The voice of horses is not only on the ranch.
I can hear it even at the racetrack.
And—
apparently, I’m still the only one who can hear them.
…I may have stepped into a truly ridiculous world.
“Well, I’m sure it’ll work out somehow.”
It’s useful anyway.