Chapter 1504: and translation of chapter title

NO. 120: Actual 3 seconds

Fasten the last button on the chest, lock the somewhat ostentatious strap at the waist, then raise both hands backward, lifting that waterfall‑like long hair like a wave.

Thus, pulling at the shirt's hem makes it fit the body more closely, allowing the body‑adjusting function originally used in many space suits to operate more precisely.

Bearing the responsibility of showcasing a horse girl's personal style, the final uniform, from design to production, is strictly overseen by the association; and for horse girls like Sirius Symbol, who are already in the late stages of their careers and whose body measurements have changed greatly from before, they have often replaced it at least four times.

This is premised on a uniform standard—in fact, many horse girls will propose different opinions on the final uniform as their careers progress, so some styles vary greatly, and even 'battle clothes' with a hint of holiday flair will be freshly produced.

However, obviously, most of those final uniforms cannot pass the association's review.

Especially those with exposure levels comparable to swimwear, or outright swimwear types, and those with prank‑level absurdity akin to April Fools' outfits—if you pull strings and contact the association's designated factory, such uniforms can indeed be produced, but they can basically only be used in school activities or summer training camps and similar Saichang.

But even so, when you actually see the final uniform designs of horse girls like Fuji no Kiseki, Ryoma Amazon, and Mihono Bourbon, you can't help but feel confused about the association's standards for exposure levels in the final uniform.

Confusion is to be expected.

Not to mention them, the association itself often can't tell whether these designs are simply expressing individuality or seeking attention, after all horse girls are female athletes with idol elements, and popularity directly affects eligibility, while the final uniform's design often directly determines passersby's first impression.

For a group of youthful, beautiful, cute girls, a relatively sexy final uniform also counts as a shortcut to attract popularity, but it is obviously seen by another group as an unhealthy trend that cannot last.

But you obviously can't bundle everyone up tightly; don't forget that everyone is still an athlete engaging in extreme sports, and let alone the fact that this design element of the final uniform has endured over a thousand years of testing—its merits or demerits need no further debate.

On the contrary, the passing standard for final uniform design…… is precisely a long‑lasting topic that has never ceased to be debated for a thousand years.

Merely, Sirius Symbol can obviously detach herself from this, after all she neither cares about this topic nor does she indeed have a final uniform design with fabric coverage that is quite conservative.

Conservative yet not lacking in fashion.

Whether it's a single‑side coat, the slit zip at the ankle, or a pair of running shoes resembling mismatched leather shoes, all are a style fit for fashion magazines.

It was like that a few years ago, and even after several more years it remains unfashionable.

The only change, on the contrary, is her increasingly voluptuous yet still athletic physique.

Under the support of that form‑fitting attire, she can completely see herself and smile with satisfaction.

Quite evidently, compared to five years ago, this appearance actually aligns more with her own aesthetic pursuit.

But to thank a reunion years later with this posture would be too forced; Sirius Symbol's heart fills with memories, resulting only in lament over how things and people have changed, and even if she lifts her hand to wipe the mirror she can only see herself, more complex than her former brows.

Thus she suddenly turned her head, gazing at the quiet door.

"Trainer, are you still there?"

Her unusually soft tone hardly sounded like herself; noticing this, she merely pressed her lips silently, and in the quiet where she waited several seconds with no response, she let out a breath.

Indeed she let out a breath.

Although somewhat disappointed, she likewise let out a breath.

By now, Sirius Symbol still does not wish to show that fragility; even though it was the youth who once promised her an ending, she wants to display even more confident arrogance before him, as if able to scorn any challenge, even though she clearly sees his eyes are extremely sharp, likely he had long ago seen through her……

He saw through her failures, saw through her inadequacy, and even more saw through the weak self deep inside her.

Even so, she still does not wish for that supposedly natural scene to occur, because she needs help but does not want to be pitied.

This is her pedantic self‑esteem, yet also the foundation of her will that has persisted to this day, and further proof that Sirius Symbol does not fall into the dust.

Even fallen to this point, her heart still holds pride, a pride called 'I am Sirius Symbol,' which lets her easily return the Hei'an route base Ael's card and also lets her pick up the dust‑covered obsession without needing any troublesome mobilization.

That star is merely dim, never extinguished; if a white dwarf could be found for that main‑sequence star, the binary system named Sirius could shine again.

So, has she found it?

The answer to this question is obvious, letting her finally step forward and grasp the door handle of the entrance.

"Come out?"

"..."

As soon as the door was pulled, she saw a tall youth with his hand raised to his ear, and before her eyes a light screen displayed his prominence; Sirius Symbol's expression instantly brightened.

"You've been here all along?"

"I did leave midway, but only for…13S, right?"

"Why the hesitation."

"Calculating the exact time."

"Seriously?"

"Naturally, but it seems something happened."

"Nothing at all!"

Under the sideways glances of a few athletes passing by on the route, Sirius Symbol shoved the trainer aside.

"I'm going to fight!"

She made a move to walk, yet couldn't help turning back to ask:

"What do you say?"

"Me? I'm just a trainer," Aomo said with a strange expression, shrugging his shoulders, "There's no way I could start warming up."

"I'm asking you this?!"

"Of course, just joking."

Amidst many astonished gazes, he raised his hand, covering that white streak like a meteor in his palm, thereby also pressing down the haste of the flustered one; the trainer smiled and said:

"I will watch, watching you reclaim your world again."

"Don't let the world become as boring as they want it to be."

"Few, few words of nonsense!"

Hearing that voice lacking some strength, obviously not due to insufficient resolve, Aomo calmly watched her swing that hand that slapped his own away, his back turning away as if angry.

That back's steps were heavy yet strong, lifting the corner of his mouth again, yet not forgetting the special situation at hand, he then gathered himself and said to the other athletes in the passageway:

"Seen the laughter, and I wish you all give your all, don't let unrelated matters hinder you."

Having said that, he simply vanished from the spot.

As for the athletes, whether they regard that 'unrelated matter' as just a brief incident just now, or feel it is an intentional off‑field measure, and thus begin to harbor suspicions……

That's their own business.