Chapter 41 — The Meteorological Agency Would Cry Over a Ranch Where Abnormal Weather Happens Every Year

“Stone, I think it’s about time.”

When I said that, Stonebreak slowly lifted her head from the straw bedding with perfect composure.

“I know. This is my third time.”

March 13th.

I hadn’t been able to settle down all day.

“Well… I’ll be in the house. Call me if anything happens.”

“You’re the one who’s the least calm, Saku.”

She’d hit the nail on the head.

I knew exactly why.

Tonight…

The foal would probably be born.

The baby inside her.

Custard and Stone’s foal.

A lot had happened to get us this far.

Honestly, so much had happened that I almost didn’t want to remember it all.

“I don’t know… I just feel a bit restless.”

“If you’re going to pace around for no reason, you’ll wear a hole in the floor.”

“Can the ground in front of a stall actually wear out?”

“When you pace that much, it wears down my mental health.”

“…Sorry.”

Stone snorted.

She was right, I couldn’t calm down at all.

Over the past five years, I’d probably witnessed more than twenty births. 

I’d been jolted awake in the middle of the night, pulled on my boots in a panic, and helped Grandpa deliver foals—sometimes even pushing a breech foal back inside so it could be repositioned. Then, when it was finally born, I’d blurt out, “Wow, it’s tiny,” or, “It stood up! It finally stood up!” The next morning, I’d be back to cleaning up horse manure with a sleepy face as though nothing had happened.

I’d done it over and over.

And yet…

“…I’m still nervous.”

You never really get used to it.

Every birth comes with something different to worry about, so you never truly become accustomed to it.

The first year, I was terrified of the birth itself.

The second year, I learned that letting your guard down could get a horse killed.

From the third year onward, I realized that acting like an experienced veteran was exactly how you got blindsided.

That’s life.

Just then, a reassuring voice rang out from the neighboring stall.

“Leave it to me, Saku!”

It was Crown.

He happened to be back home for a visit… Could horses even call it “going home”?

Well, anyway, he was on vacation from the riding center.

“Leave what to you?”

When I asked, Crown puffed out his chest.

“I’ll yell really loud!”

Another broodmare immediately interrupted from the next stall.

“If you yell, you’ll just scare everyone.”

“Exactly.”

“I’d actually prefer it if you stayed quiet.”

“Maybe Crown should wait outside.”

The veteran mares looked at Crown with remarkable calm.

“Hey! If something happens during the night, somebody has to alert everyone!”

“Alerting us is one thing, but you’d probably start yelling even if nothing happened.”

“You’re already getting excited just because a foal’s about to be born.”

“You’d definitely shout, ‘It’s comingggg!!'”

“Not “would”—he’s definitely done that before.”

Apparently unable to deny it, Crown fell silent for a moment.

“…I might…”

“Don’t.”

As expected of the old veterans of the ranch.

They knew Crown’s personality inside and out.

Stone let out an exaggerated sigh before speaking again.

“Kid.”

“Hm?”

“If you’re that worried, want to give birth instead of me?”

“No. And I don’t even want to imagine that.”

“Then settle down.”

She had a point.

If calming down were that easy, though, I’d have done it hours ago.

Meanwhile, this year’s foals, born earlier in the season and blissfully unaware of what was happening, were getting excited for completely different reasons.

“Are we yelling too!?”

“Let’s yell!!”

“Yaaay!”

“Leave it to us!”

“I need you guys to be the quiet ones.”

The last thing I wanted was for the stable to turn into a sports festival right before a nighttime birth.

---

When I returned to the main house, Grandpa glanced over from the monitor at the stalls.

“You ought to get used to this already.”

That was the first thing he said.

“I haven’t.”

I answered honestly and Grandpa snorted.

“Better to stay nervous than get complacent.”

“That’s true…”

But being nervous was still being nervous.

Even I was surprised by how much more I knew now compared with my first year.

I could tell the difference between moments when panicking was pointless and moments when you truly had to act immediately.

But that didn’t mean I’d stopped worrying.

Yayoi-chan chuckled softly as she prepared tea for everyone.

“Saku, at this rate, you’re going to be something else when your own child is born someday.”

“I literally can’t imagine it.”

I answered instantly.

Yayoi looked like she was about to burst out laughing.

“I think you’d hyperventilate.”

“That bad!?”

“I think so.”

“Why are you so certain?”

“Because you already look pretty on edge right now.”

“How rude.”

Though…she wasn’t entirely wrong.

I gratefully accepted the teacup and took a sip.

The hot tea slid down my throat, calming me just a little.

“You seem pretty relaxed, Yayoi.”

“Well, we studied animals besides horses in school.”

“You’re tough.”

“No.”

She smiled.

“You’re just weak.”

Ouch, critical hit.

“…I wonder how many years it’ll take before I get used to this.”

Grandpa snorted.

“At this rate? Never.”

“…Maybe.”

People were funny that way.

Besides…being able to hear the horses talking somehow made this whole experience even more nerve-racking.

Just then, Yayoi suddenly remembered something.

“Oh, right. They said the Tau Herculids meteor shower should be pretty good tonight.”

“Huh?”

I looked up.

“What’s that?”

“It was on the news earlier. If the conditions are good, we might be able to see quite a few meteors.”

“Huh…”

A meteor shower.

“In video games, that’s usually a good omen.”

“There you go talking about games again.”

Lately, whenever I started talking about horse-racing simulation games, Yayoi just reacted with, “Here he goes again.”

It’s amazing what people can get used to.

“No, seriously. If a foal is born during spring thunder or a meteor shower, they usually get really high stats.”

“Oh…”

“Real life isn’t nearly that convenient, though.”

“But it does sound romantic.”

“It does.”

I smiled back.

In reality, there weren’t dramatic special effects like that.

But if there were, I’d probably want to believe in them.

Without even looking over, Grandpa spoke.

“You can’t make a living on romance.”

“True enough.”

“But…”

I glanced toward the stable.

“Without a little romance, life’s pretty boring, isn’t it?”

Silence settled over the room.

Grandpa didn’t answer back.

But he didn’t disagree, either.

After all, he hadn’t kept this ranch running for decades on practicality alone.

Yayoi-chan wrapped her teacup in both hands and glanced out the window for a moment.

“Then…I hope we get to see them tonight.”

“Yeah.”

She really did know how to say the right thing.

Still… I’d never even heard of the Tau Herculids meteor shower before.

What was that supposed to be?

Did the “Herculids” part refer to Heracles from Greek mythology?

If so… it sounded pretty powerful.