Kitasan Black did not hear Almond Eye's shout.
Besides the familiar sound of the wind, her ears were filled with far too many unfamiliar things.
English and shouts in all manner of languages she did not recognize, whistles that would have been frivolous and rude in Japan, sound effects, and the rustling patter of mud and sand flying everywhere.
All of it was unfamiliar to her.
Her sense of smell and physical sensations were equally unfamiliar.
The scent of dirt, utterly different from turf, seeped into her nasal cavity and mixed with sweat, making it feel as though everything from her nasal cavity to her chest cavity was being scraped by sandpaper. It was intensely uncomfortable.
There were also too many unfamiliar things in her field of vision—not only the frightening amount of mud splashing toward her, but also that strange blur.
It was not entirely unfamiliar. She knew it was the blur caused by sweat mixing with dirt into mud, which then clung to the corners of her eyes.
Yet she still widened her eyes and blinked more frequently.
She had just vaguely recalled this trick Anjing Zhen had taught her before her debut race.
No Horse Girl could stay in first place forever, so you would inevitably fall behind and find yourself chasing your opponents.
The figures ahead, grass clippings, and mud would all become real obstacles and mental pressure. I hoped you would begin slowly getting used to them now.
Especially by using real races to get used to them.
Kitasan Black had written down exactly what Anjing Zhen said at the time in her little notebook, but she could not fully recite his original words right now.
Still, she was certain that had been the meaning.
She was glad that, from the very beginning of her