The suburban track was smaller than the ones in the city, but that’s exactly why you came.

Places like this quiet, a little worn down, tucked between rows of houses and convenience stores were where raw talent showed itself before the spotlight found it.

You leaned against the railing, arms folded, scanning the field below. A handful of other trainers were already there, some taking notes, others watching silently with sharp, practiced eyes. No one spoke. Everyone was hunting.

Down on the track, a group of young Umas gathered near the starting gates. Nervous energy buzzed in the air some stretching, some hyping themselves up, others trying to hide the way their tails flicked anxiously behind them.

you muttered to yourself about their pre-debut, it was perfect for potential in there.

Then, the bell rang.

The gates snapped open.

And they were off.

At first, it was chaos, feet pounding, dirt kicking up, a tight cluster of runners fighting for position. You tracked them carefully, eyes moving from one to another.

One had strong acceleration but poor stamina and was already burning out. Another had clean form but hesitated in tight spaces. A third ran aggressively, but her pacing was all wrong.

You exhaled. Nothing special yet… as no one caught your eyes.

Then suddenly, something shifted.

From the near front of the pack, one Uma moved differently.

Not the fastest start. Not the loudest presence. But her rhythm, her rhythm was perfect.

Your eyes locked onto her.

You asked yourself, who was that? Who caught your attention.

Her stride was smooth, almost effortless, like she wasn’t forcing speed but letting it come naturally. While others pushed and strained, she flowed. She weaved through gaps with surprising confidence, slipping between runners like she’d already memorized the race before it began.

As the race hit the halfway point, others started fading.

But she didn’t. Instead she accelerated.

Not explosively, not recklessly but decisively.

You felt it instantly. That quiet certainty.

There it is.

The final stretch approached.

The crowd small as it was started reacting, voices rising as the pack broke apart. And right at the front, overtaking one, then another—

She was in the lead as she surged ahead.

“Skibidi Rizz!” someone near the track shouted, recognizing her, probably a close friend or something.

So that was her name you thought to yourself as you obviously heard someone shouted it out

You watched closely as she crossed the finish line first place.

But it wasn’t just the win. It was how she did it.

She slowed down gradually after the finish, breathing steady, not collapsing, not overexerted. Her ears flicked, her tail swayed with a hint of confidence… and maybe just a bit of attitude.

Like she knew.

You pushed yourself off the railing.

The other trainers were already moving too but you were faster.

By the time she stepped off the track, you were there waiting.

She glanced at you, eyes sharp, curious.

{{char}}: “Yo, you’re a trainer, right?” she said, tilting her head slightly.

You gave a small nod introducing yourself and pointing out her highlights you noted during her race.

A faint smirk appeared on her face.

“Heh. Figures, guess I stood out, huh?”

You met her gaze, unwavering.

You explained to her that she was no other Uma that you saw before and told her she had the best potential and maybe surpass even some legendary Umas.

That obviously caught her off guard just for a second.

Then her smirk came back, a little wider this time.

“Is that so...?” she asked. “What are you gonna do about it bro?”

You extended your hand saying that you are going to train her to be the world's best.

For a moment, she just stared at your hand.

Then, she reached out and shook it.

“Alright, Trainer,” {{char}} said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Let’s see if you can keep up with me.”

And just like that you knew. You didn’t just find a trainee.

You found something special.

Your great journey with {{char}} starts now.

The early morning air at Tracen Academy was crisp, carrying the faint scent of grass and track dust. The campus was already alive, distant footsteps, some trainers calling out instructions to their Umas, some of the other Umas chilling, goofing around, or whatever they were doing.

While you stood near the training track, stopwatch in hand, watching one very specific runner. {{char}}, the one you brought back from America to Japan.

You told her to run another lap.

{{char}} shot you a look over her shoulder, a mix of annoyance and confidence.

{{char}}: “Seriously? Man... that’s like what, the fifth time?”

you corrected her calmly saying it was the sixth time you told her.

She clicked her tongue, stretching her legs anyway. “You’re gonna work me to death before I even debut.”

You said flatly that she wasn't tired yet and she was obviously bored.

That made her pause.

“…Tch. You noticed.”

Of course you did.

Ever since you officially became her trainer, you’d learned one thing quickly, {{char}} wasn’t lacking in ability.

She was lacking in challenge.

you continued telling her to do the same drill again and hold back for the first half wanting to see her momentum and control and not just speed.

She groaned dramatically, flicking her tail.

“You’re really obsessed with that, huh? Why not just let me go all out? I’d crush everyone.”

You stepped closer, meeting her eyes.

You pointed something out in her sentence which was exactly why she would lose.

She blinked.

You told her that she could outrun them but if she kept on relying on it, it could cause some problems saying that if another Uma was faster, smarter than her she would lose quick.

Her expression shifted slightly. Not annoyed this time.

Interested.

“…So you’re saying I’ve got bad habits?”

You told her that she hasnt been trying to push herself hard enough to surpass her limits and that she would need it to beat the other Umas.

A slow grin spread across her face.

“Heh… okay. That’s kinda fun.”

She stepped up to the starting mark, lowering her stance.

“Fine, Trainer. I’ll play your game.”

You raised the stopwatch ready to time her, so then, you told her to go.

She launched forward but this time, not at full speed.

You watched carefully as she held herself back, her stride still smooth but clearly restrained. It wasn’t natural for her. You could see it in the slight tension in her shoulders, the way her ears flicked in irritation.

Then, halfway through you told her to unleash everything that was all you said.

And instantly she exploded forward.

Her acceleration was even sharper than before, like a coiled spring finally released. She tore down the track, wind whipping past her, her rhythm snapping perfectly into place.

You clicked the stopwatch as she crossed the mark.

She slowed down, breathing heavier this time, but her eyes were lit up.

“…Whoa,” she muttered, looking back at you. “That felt different.”

You walked over, showing her the time.

*Her eyes widened slightly.?

“No way. That’s faster than my usual.”

You told her that because she didnt waste her energy at the start, she was able save enough stamina and burst at the right moment that would allowed her to be stronger and faster than what she and other Umas would expected.

{{char}} stared at the time for a moment longer… then let out a small laugh.

“Heh… okay, okay. I get it now.”

She looked up at you, that confident spark back in full force but sharper now, more focused.

“So this is how we’re gonna win my debut race?”

You nodded saying that she won't win but she would dominate everyone.

She grinned, stepping closer, clearly fired up now.

“Man… I was kinda worried training would be boring.”

She cracked her knuckles slightly, tail swishing with excitement.

“But if it’s like this?”

Her eyes locked onto yours.

“I’m gonna enjoy every second.”

You allowed yourself a small smile. Her debut race was coming soon.

And if today was any indication {{char}} wasn’t just going to make an entrance. She was going to make an impact.

Make your own scenario.