Chapter 114: I Won’t Acknowledge Anyone but You, the Strongest of All

The grand Thanksgiving Festival—where I discovered a promising junior, enjoyed making the rounds with Ayumu-san, and fiercely defended my remaining two reward privileges—came to an end. The very next day, Teio and I were scheduled to appear on a TV program officially sponsored by the URA.

After getting a proper dose of Ayumu-san-ium backstage to recharge my energy, I headed out onto the main stage together with Teio. What’s Ayumu-san-ium, you ask? It’s that feeling you get when you bask in Ayumu-san’s warmth and regain motivation for a heart chilled by loneliness. Don’t make me say it out loud—how embarrassing.

And then, the moment we slipped past the curtain and stepped fully onto the stage, what I felt was—

So many intense, heated gazes.

A large number of fans watching the recording were focused squarely on us.

Back in my previous life, those burning stares alone might have made me flinch… but now?

I’m an Uma Musume who regularly gets stared at by tens—no, hundreds of thousands of people. There’s no way I’d get shaken by ten or twenty pairs of eyes at this point.

So, naturally—

"Hello everyone! Tokai Teio here!"

"I'm Hoshino Wilm. Good evening."

With those greetings, we stepped fully into the camera’s frame.

Teio dashed forward with quick, lively footsteps, waving energetically at the audience and cameras. In contrast, I kept my wave calm and restrained.

When it comes to media appearances like this, individuality and balance matter most.

If two people appear together, it works best when one is high-energy and the other plays it cool. If both are overly enthusiastic, it becomes exhausting. If both are reserved, it’s hard to connect with them. One charging ahead while the other acts as a brake creates a better visual balance—or so a staff member once told me during a previous shoot.

In this case, since Teio is already known as the energetic type, I shouldn’t push myself too hard. A light smile and a composed demeanor should be just right. My job here isn’t to stand out recklessly—it’s to do my part and help make the program a success.

…Or so I thought.

My intentions and the audience’s intentions were clearly not the same.

The moment Teio and I appeared—especially the moment I appeared—a ripple of excitement spread through the seating area.

Well, that reaction wasn’t exactly unexpected.

Once we took our assigned seats, the host spoke up again.

"Thank you both for coming, Hoshino Wilm-san and Tokai Teio-san. Wow—your second set of race outfits suits you wonderfully!"

"Thank you very much. I really like this one too. What about you, Teio?"

"Of course it’s my favorite! I’m planning to wear this one for a while—starting with the Osaka Hai!"

Teio smiled brightly, wrapped in a silhouette quite different from what people were used to seeing.

That’s right. Both Teio and I were wearing brand-new race outfits.

Teio’s came from a project last year, while mine was a new outfit I received after winning the URA Award.

As for me, I’d completely switched things up—from my previous boyish outfit dominated by red tones to a mannish design centered on deep ultramarine. A cool look built around a long, dark-blue coat, topped with a crown-shaped hair ornament. Compared to my first, simpler outfit, the atmosphere had changed drastically; even I have to admit it gives off a strong “powerful character” vibe.

Despite all the changes, familiar elements remain—like the star-shaped brooch on my chest, the same design as on my first outfit. A wonderful touch. Even the veteran fans in the back, watching with folded arms, are probably smiling.

Ayumu-san’s evaluation of it was extremely high, and I personally love it too. After all, it significantly increases things like casual body contact and the amount of attention I receive.

Meanwhile, Teio’s outfit is the complete opposite of mine: she went from a mannish, formalwear-like costume to a bright, boyish red design. A light look with a short jacket over an inner layer and a relatively short skirt. The color scheme shifted as well—from the classic white-blue-red-yellow “Gundam” palette to a fiery combination of red, yellow, and black.

This outfit feels incredibly familiar to me.

Today was the first time I’d seen it in person, but… I’ve seen it before, in a sense.

…Yes. This is exactly the second outfit Teio wore in the anime from my previous life, after her return from injury.

If I remember correctly, anime Teio started wearing this outfit from the Osaka Hai. She made a strong comeback win in her first race after returning—or at least, I think so. I watched that anime a long time ago, back in my previous life, and at the time I had little knowledge of racing, so my memory is vague.

…Actually, now that I think about it, anime Teio’s return might have been later than in this world. It wasn’t from the Arima Kinen, but from the Osaka Hai, right? It was after her first shrine visit with Team Spica, so it definitely wasn’t the Arima Kinen.

After the Takarazuka Kinen, I was completely absorbed in Ayumu-san and a lot of other things, so I hadn’t thought about it much—but Teio already is… this world already is, drifting away from the “main storyline” of the anime.

…Though if we’re talking about a “main storyline,” then the fact that Team Spica didn’t exist, Trainer Okino wasn’t around, and an outsider like me went and won the Triple Crown means things diverged a long, long time ago. Or rather, it was a different world from the very beginning.

Even so, there’s no denying that I’ve been involved—at least to some extent—in shaping the differences between the anime’s flow and this world’s flow. For example, I forcibly took the Satsuki Sho and the Derby that Teio was supposed to win.

And by helping reduce the severity of Teio’s injury and accelerating her return by four months, that too was likely the result of actions taken by me and Ayumu-san.

Right before the Derby, Ayumu-san and I made various plans for Teio’s sake, even if we weren’t overly aggressive about it. As a result, we detected the fracture early and began treatment, which led to her revival starting from the Arima Kinen.

Realizing that my actions bore fruit and helped her makes me… no, actually, very happy. Even if only slightly, we managed to lessen Tokai Teio’s injury. Of course I’d feel proud of that.

Ideally, I’d like to reduce—or even prevent—any injuries that might happen again in the future, but…

…Anyway, I’ve gone way off-topic.

Long story short, Teio and I received new race outfits.

And with their unveiling on the program, it was only natural that a high-pitched buzz rose from the audience.

Neither Teio nor I were wearing the more common “cute” style. Just like our first outfits, these were cool, masculine designs. For female fans, that sort of thing is probably thrilling. If the “me” from my previous life were here, I might have screamed and fainted just from seeing my favorite in such a cool outfit.

"Both of you are wearing such cool outfits—do you have any favorite points you’d like to share?"

Riding the wave of excited voices, the host asked.

"For me, it’s definitely the cape on my right shoulder! Look at it—see? It flutters around and looks awesome, right!"

After Teio answered without hesitation, I paused briefly, as if considering it.

"For me… yes, I think it’s this star brooch. It’s the same one as on my first outfit, so I’m attached to it."

"I see, I see! It really shows how each Uma Musume has her own attachments to her race outfit. Be sure to pay attention to those details at the Osaka Hai!"

The host neatly wrapped things up and guided the conversation onward—from the warm-up to today’s main topic.

"Now then, I’d like to ask you both once again about this year’s spring G1 season. You must have a lot to say about the upcoming Osaka Hai… but first, let’s talk about the Classic-tier Triple Crown races you aren’t directly involved in: the Satsuki Sho and the Oka Sho!"

The Satsuki Sho and the Oka Sho.

Each is the opening race of the Classic Triple Crown and the Triple Tiara, respectively.

Within the Classic tier of the Twinkle Series, there are two sets of races that determine the strongest of a generation: the Classic Triple Crown and the Triple Tiara.

The Classic Triple Crown—composed of the Satsuki Sho, the Japan Derby, and the Kikuka Sho—is something I personally ran through last year, so it hardly needs explaining. The Triple Tiara, meanwhile, consists of the Oka Sho, the Oaks, and the Shuka Sho, held during roughly the same period.

Both series determine the strongest within a generation. So why are they divided into two?

The answer lies in distance aptitude.

The Classic races are run over distances from 2000 to 3000 meters, while the Tiara races are slightly shorter, ranging from 1600 to 2400 meters. In other words, the Triple Tiara is the battlefield for Uma Musume whose strengths lie from mile to middle distances, but who may struggle with longer ones. If you look purely at aptitude, Bourbon-chan probably fits better here as well.

As the name “Classic tier” suggests, the Classic races tend to attract more attention—the ones I competed in last year. Compared to those, the Tiara races often seem a bit more subdued.

When people discuss the strongest in history, former Triple Crown winners are frequently mentioned, but Triple Tiara winners rarely are. …Well, the fact that only one Uma Musume in history—Mejiro Ramonu, the bewitching blue roan—has ever completed the Triple Tiara is probably a big reason for that.

By the way, sprinters who specialize in short distances and those who focus on dirt tracks can’t even participate in these “strongest of the generation” battles. Or rather, they don’t have many G1 races available at all, which has led to some complaints.

In response, the URA Finals—where McQueen-senpai recently emerged victorious—were created under the banner of “races where everyone can shine.” With a variety of conditions such as dirt, short distance, mile, middle distance, and long distance, the event determines the strongest in each specialized field within a generation.

That petite Chairwoman who planned and practically built the whole thing herself is truly amazing. I genuinely respect her.

Now, back to the topic at hand.

The two races under discussion are the Satsuki Sho, which opens this year’s Classic Triple Crown, and the Oka Sho, which opens the Triple Tiara.

As we mentally prepared our talking points, the host finally began.

"From a public perspective, Mihono Bourbon-san is seen as slightly ahead for the Satsuki Sho, and Nishino Flower-san for the Oka Sho."

"That’s true… I don’t have much personal interaction with Nishino Flower-san, but Bourbon-chan is extremely strong. I don’t think breaking through the aptitude barrier and aiming for the Classic Triple Crown is a pipe dream for her."

"Hoshino Wilm-san, you and Mihono Bourbon-san are from the same stable—under the same contracted trainer, correct?"

"Hearing that from last year’s Triple Crown Uma Musume really hits different," Teio added lightly. "But honestly, she won the Spring Stakes in overwhelming fashion, so she’s definitely the top contender for the Satsuki Sho."

Teio nodded along as I praised Bourbon-chan.

In the Spring Stakes, Bourbon-chan finished four lengths ahead of second-place Rice-chan—and then another three lengths back to third. Excluding Rice-chan, who somehow held on thanks to her high stamina… or even including her, really, it was Bourbon-chan’s solo performance.

Of course, it’s not as if there are no other strong contenders. Even so, Bourbon-chan’s ability clearly stands out.

…Still, this is a TV program meant to be fair and impartial. I can’t use language that’s too extreme.

"The Satsuki Sho is run on the same Nakayama right-handed inner course as the Spring Stakes. You could say it’s just an extra 200 meters. Strong contenders are scheduled to run—led by Ribbon Lullaby-san, who won the Yayoi Sho—but after seeing that decisive front-running victory, it really makes you want to see a repeat performance on the Satsuki stage."

"Ribbon Lullaby showed plenty of strength too, winning the Yayoi Sho by two and a half lengths. Her finishing kick was especially sharp."

"Even so, in Bourbon-chan’s Spring Stakes, her final three furlongs were 37.6 seconds—right behind Rice-chan’s 37.3. For a front-runner who’s supposed to fade late, having such a sharp closing kick is outrageous."

"…Hey, isn’t that a roundabout way of bragging?"

"Hoshino Wilm-san is famous for not fading in the latter half either."

"Ah—sorry. That was unconscious."

Laughter rose from the audience.

Good. Looks like I managed to get a laugh.

…That wasn’t canned laughter, right?

"Now then, how about the Oka Sho?"

"This one’s stacked with strong contenders as well. If you look purely at win rates, Nishino Flower-san stands out, but when you consider place rates and consistency, it’s an incredibly strong lineup. I’m really looking forward to it."

"You just said everything I was going to…"

"Ah—sorry, Teio."

Whoops. That was a small misstep.

Even with a rough script and rehearsals, this kind of talk relies heavily on ad-libbing, which makes it tricky.

As a chill ran down my spine, the host smoothly extended a helping hand.

"Then how about the racecourse itself?"

"Hanshin, right-handed outer course, 1600 meters, right? I’ve actually never run at Hanshin before. The Osaka Hai was my first time there."

"I’ve run there for the Takarazuka Kinen, though that was the inner course. That Niikawa slope right before the final straight can be tough for front-runners and pace-setters, I think."

"Nishino Flower is usually a pace-setter, right? So that’s a slight disadvantage?"

"Possibly. But the elevation change is only about two meters—half of Kyoto Racecourse’s famous Yodo slope. You only pass it once, too. If stamina management is done well, the disadvantage can be avoided."

…What about when I ran there, you ask?

The curse was lifted, I awakened to my domain, cheats were unlocked, my brain went bzzt—and I just kept calculating the most efficient possible line and blew past everyone.

Sorry for being a completely unhelpful senior.

"So, Wilm, how do you see this Oka Sho? Is Nishino Flower still your main pick?"

"Yes. I hear she’s roommates with my adorable junior Bourbon-chan, so there’s that connection too. I’m cheering for her."

"Oh, right—Mihono Bourbon and Nishino Flower are roommates, aren’t they? Thinking about it calmly, that’s a pretty incredible coincidence."

No, seriously.

Two Junior-class champions sharing the same room, and on top of that, each being the top favorite for the Classic races and the Tiara races respectively—what are the odds?

Tracen Academy has around 2,000 Uma Musume, you know? Most of them live in the dorms.

…Well, I suppose someone who shared a room with that all-rounder senior doesn’t really have room to talk.

"How about you, Teio?"

"Personally, I want to put my hopes on Chococho, who beat Nishino Flower in the Tulip Sho the other day. It depends on the track condition and her form on the day, but there’s definitely something there in her finishing kick."

"I see. It looks like the Oka Sho will be a showdown every bit as intense as the Satsuki Sho. The first jewel of the Triple Tiara—who will take it, I wonder?"

That should be enough on the Classic-tier girls.

With the discussion moving forward without any major issues, I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Of course, neither Teio nor I were forming these opinions on the spot. We’d done rehearsals a few days earlier, after all. The flow might shift slightly, but the broad strokes of what we say are decided in advance.

Naturally. Like it or not, we’re fairly influential figures.

Say the wrong thing and you’re guaranteed backlash. Even showing a hint of favoritism can cross the line. Cheering for a junior from the same stable is probably fine—but overpraising them wouldn’t be.

…Man, media really is a pain.

After everything that’s happened, I truly am grateful to the fans—but that’s separate from this… what do you call it? This constant need for consideration. I just can’t shake my aversion to it.

They come to interview you, but you can’t speak your true feelings—or you have to dress them up in layers of excessive wording.

Isn’t that putting the cart before the horse? That’s how it feels to me.

I get that if someone might be hurt, you need to be considerate. I really do.

But still… it’s like that story about the old man, the old woman, and the goat. There’s no answer in this world that will satisfy everyone. And yet, people keep trying to force an answer that pleases everyone—until no one can say anything at all.

It can’t be helped. It really can’t.

…But still.

Well, it’s work. I’ll do it properly.

I mean, I’ve technically been in show business since the Junior class—two years ago now—so I’m basically a pro. My exposure really ramped up in the Classic class, though.

Alright. Back on track.

That wraps up the Classic class discussion.

The Junior class, one step below the Classic class, hasn’t really started racing yet, and their G1 races won’t come until the end of the year. Talking about prospects now would just be daydreaming.

Which means that after the Classic class comes us—the Senior class.

"Next up, we have the Senior-class races. We’d like to ask Hoshino Wilm-san and Tokai Teio-san about your outlook going forward, including your enthusiasm for the Osaka Hai."

…Yeah. That’s obviously why we were cast.

In this year’s Osaka Hai, the two who’ll draw the most attention are almost certainly me and Teio.

The truth is, the one who pushed Hoshino Wilm the hardest from an even footing wasn’t Nice Nature, Mejiro McQueen, or Special Week—it was Tokai Teio.

Aside from the Arima Kinen, my record is nothing but wins. And in that Arima Kinen, my trainer—Ayumu-san—was absent.

In other words, I was incomplete, like half of me was missing.

It sounds like an excuse—and honestly, it is an excuse born from frustration—but that situation is hard to call “even.”

And excluding that Arima Kinen, the race where the gap between us narrowed the most was… yes, last year’s Japan Derby—the showdown with Teio.

Sure, she had already awakened her domain while I hadn’t yet, and that difference wasn’t small.

But that wasn’t some external factor—it was simply a matter of how early each of us matured. At the very least, the conditions themselves were even. I think it’s fair to say that.

She was blazing with a full awakening, and at the moment I was pushed to my absolute limit—

In the pouring rain, on the final straight, she exploded into acceleration. I still vividly remember the sound of Teio’s footsteps as she closed in on me in a single fierce surge.

As for me, I managed to win by attempting an ultra-forward-leaning posture I’d come up with after watching her run—but in exchange, I spectacularly self-destructed and ended up with inflammation in my legs.

…Looking back now, that was something an Uma Musume trained by Ayumu-san should never have done.

No matter how much you win, if you don’t make it back safely to his side, it’s meaningless. What he wants isn’t victory or fame—it’s being able to meet the people close to him again tomorrow, as a matter of course.

If—if my racing career had ended right there, he’s exactly the kind of person who would’ve thought, I failed to train her properly, so Hoshino Wilm broke down.

And then… Hoshino Wilm might have become a brand-new trauma for him.

Ugh—goosebumps. That’s the worst-case scenario.

Seriously, I’m really glad that didn’t happen. I can’t be thankful enough for how sturdy my legs are, that even reckless stunts only resulted in inflammation. Hurray for reincarnation cheats!

…Anyway, back on topic.

In short, Tokai Teio is one of a kind—the only Uma Musume who pushed me from an even starting line to a nose-length margin.

But right after the Derby, her fracture was discovered, and not long after that, I fractured my leg at the Takarazuka Kinen as well.

Our next direct confrontation was delayed again and again until the Arima Kinen, but there, the spotlight was stolen by Spe-senpai and Suzuka-san. On top of that, Ayumu-san wasn’t with me, and Teio herself wasn’t in top form.

But now, Ayumu-san is standing right beside me—and Teio has fully regained her condition.

And so, this Osaka Hai.

People are expecting me and Tokai Teio to continue what we started at the Derby—to finally settle it once again.

When this question came up in rehearsal, I was supposed to give a light response first.

Thinking that, I was just about to open my mouth when—

Suddenly, Teio started speaking.

"For now, I’m planning to pour everything I’ve got into the Osaka Hai. I do intend to run the Tenno Sho too, but I’ll think about what comes next after the Osaka Hai is over. After all, my rival’s brightest star is a stayer. The longer the distance, the more disadvantageous it is for me. …So on this stage—the Osaka Hai, where I have the biggest advantage—I’m going to surpass you."

From the side, I felt a gaze burning with heat.

An ad-lib—completely different from the rehearsal.

Words and eyes far hotter than before.

…Haha. I see now.

So this is why Teio accepted this gig.

To throw down a challenge—right here, in public.

Interesting. Fun. Delightful. Maybe even… dear to me.

Those feelings filled my chest to the brim.

Teio… you really do know how to make things exciting.

"Just like everyone’s expecting, I’m planning to get my revenge on Wilm at the Osaka Hai. The dream of an undefeated Triple Crown slipped through my fingers—but Tokai Teio isn’t ending things there, okay? I’ll surpass even the brightest star and prove that I’m the absolute emperor, second only to the Eternal Emperor."

At her earnest declaration, everyone but me fell into a brief silence.

…But it didn’t last long.

Because Teio immediately broke into a mischievous grin.

"…Well, something like that! I don’t think it’ll be an easy win or anything, but I’m going all out. Everyone, please cheer for me~!"

Her playful tone drew laughter from around us.

…Man, Teio’s good.

She threw down a challenge on a live TV program—and then smoothly brought it back to entertainment.

Rather than simply being used to the spotlight, she’s excellent at reading the room and adjusting the atmosphere. I like to think I’m fairly adaptable too, but this kind of communication… I don’t have much experience with it. I don’t think I could pull it off as well as Teio.

"I see, I see! Then how about you, Hoshino Wilm-san?"

While I was thinking, the topic swung back to me.

…Alright.

If a fight’s been picked, I’ll gladly take it.

Feeling the corners of my mouth lift, I opened my lips.

"Well then. As for me, I intend to run in a way that’s true to myself—one that doesn’t betray the expectations of my fans. The Osaka Hai, the Tenno Sho (Spring), and the Takarazuka Kinen. I want to carve out victories across the entire Spring Senior Triple Crown route, and then head into the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe in perfect condition."

As I said that, I flicked my eyes to the side—

And my gaze met Teio’s, who was already looking at me.

"…Yes, of course. Any wall that stands in my way, I’ll overcome head-on. Whether it’s a famed master of the turf, a great all-rounder… or even a revived emperor. No matter who comes chasing after me, I’ll outrun them all."

Ah.

Scorching heat.

From Teio’s eyes, I could feel it—boiling ambition, screaming I’ll beat you, surpass you, absolutely run you down.

My body shuddered with pleasure.

Rivals really are the best.

And when that rival is Teio—a genuine racing prodigy—it’s even better.

I was certain of it.

The Osaka Hai would be—without question—the hottest race imaginable.

…Alright then. That aside—

It’s about time to land the ending.

"…Well, in short, it’s the same as always. I want to run in a way that’s true to me—for my fans, and for myself. I want to have the hottest, most exhilarating race possible. And for that… heh. Everyone, please cheer for me, won’t you?"