Chapter 137: Lady, ready to go!
April 24.
Two days before the Tenno Sho (Spring), where Hoshino Wilm, Mejiro McQueen, and Tokai Teio would clash.
Far across the sea from Japan—roughly 9,500 kilometers in a straight line, beyond at least two oceans—lies an island nation known in Japan as England. On the outskirts of its capital stands a racecourse.
Sandown Park Racecourse.
One of the major venues for local Uma Musume, Sandown Park hosts the Eclipse Stakes in July—the first G1 in which Classic-class runners can challenge Senior-class competitors.
As the country credited with laying the foundations of modern racing, England enjoys immense popularity for Uma Musume racing. Japan’s central circuit holds just under 4,000 races annually across all categories; by contrast, England stages over 15,000, spread across roughly sixty racecourses nationwide. In every sense, it is a national sport.
And so, even in April, the racing season is in full swing.
Sandown Park is no exception. Though it is a weekday Friday, a race is scheduled for today.
That said, this is not a graded race of elite contenders. Not an Open race. Not even a Pre-Open.
It is a maiden race. Conditions: right-handed, ten furlongs—2,000 meters.
In other words, a race for local Uma Musume who have yet to win even once, and therefore lack eligibility to participate in the main race series.
Typically, Make Debut races for competitive Uma Musume begin in June.
From there, over the course of roughly a year, Junior- and Classic-class runners chase their first victory through Make Debut and maiden races.
The entry requirement for graded, Open, and Pre-Open races is at least one prior win. Any Uma Musume who fails to secure a victory within that year is effectively judged “not strong enough to compete in the series” and barred from stepping onto that stage. She may still be allowed to run in certain special races or regional circuits, but her options become severely limited.
Yet this system is not especially unreasonable.
An Uma Musume with genuine ability—one capable of winning graded races—will clear a maiden within a handful of attempts. Failure to do so suggests a deficiency in talent, effort, instinct, technique, mental fortitude… or perhaps all of the above.
For that reason, maiden races in April rarely attract much attention.
The most promising runners have already secured their wins, leaving primarily those destined to build their careers around Open and Pre-Open competition. There are, of course, late bloomers or prodigies delayed by injury—but such runners inevitably develop more slowly, making early success unlikely.
Thus, this maiden race attracted little notice.
Just another maiden. Just another contest.
Perhaps, beyond it, one new hopeful might be born—someone capable of challenging graded races someday.
Most spectators gathered at the track expected no more than that.
Now, as the maiden race’s start approaches, one Uma Musume waits.
Dressed in her training uniform in the waiting room, standing beside her trainer as she awaits the race…
She—
"Look, look, Trainer! See? In two days—it’s the Haru Ten! The showdown between Actress and Empress!!"
"Hey, what do you think? What do you think will happen!?"
She thrust her smartphone toward him.
Displayed on the screen was not information about the race she was about to run.
Instead, it showed a G1 from an entirely different circuit, held in that distant island nation.
Ordinarily, an Uma Musume before a race devotes herself entirely to the task at hand. Racing is a constant negotiation—when to move, when to accelerate, when to overtake. Every second demands cool judgment amid shifting dynamics.
Which is precisely why a runner should block out everything else and focus solely on the race before her.
In that sense, it would be fair to say she was hardly facing her own race at all.
Yet the one who should have admonished her—her trainer—only looked at the screen she held out and gave a resigned smile.
"...Well, I’d say your idol’s probably going to win."
"Right? Right?! She’ll definitely win! I can’t wait!"
The Uma Musume grinned, already lost in thoughts of the upcoming G1.
Across the sea, her admired runner would, in just a few days, surely win in spectacular fashion.
With what outrageous strategy? With what overwhelming performance?
At this moment, her interest lay entirely there.
"In terms of distance aptitude, I think she and Actress have the edge! Especially her—she’s got ridiculous stamina. 3,200 meters would be a breeze, right? Actress is amazing, sure—but she’s stronger, I’m telling you!"
"What about Empress?"
"Empress is scary too! Honestly, she might be even scarier than Actress since we don’t know her limits. But when it comes to stamina… 3,200 is insanely long."
"Hmmmmm…"
The chestnut-haired girl let her bangs fall as she pondered.
Then she suddenly lifted her face.
"But still—she’s definitely winning!"
Though it had nothing to do with her own race, she spoke with absolute confidence in that girl’s victory.
Her trainer couldn’t help but chuckle.
"...Anne, you really do love her, don’t you?"
"Of course I do! She’s an undefeated Triple Crown winner, you know? How could I not admire that?!"
"Triple Crowns aren’t something many girls even attempt in our country these days."
"That’s not the point! It’s proof of strength! And it’s cool!!"
She puffed up in indignation. He answered with a mild, "Maybe you’re right," while thinking:
Anyone who didn’t know her would never guess that this expressive, animated Uma Musume had been almost emotionless a year ago.
The Uma Musume under his care was, bluntly put, rather peculiar.
Slow to ignite—but once ignited, slow to cool. Rarely interested in anything; yet when she was, she became completely absorbed.
Though, truth be told, he had only come to understand that about six months ago.
When they first met, she was unusual for a competitive Uma Musume: her motivation to run was low.
Blessed with exceptional bloodlines, she had been expected to pursue a racing career and had drifted into the training center along that current. Yet she never fully committed to racing, running simply because it was expected of her.
Even when he scouted her after a selection race, she barely changed expression and replied, "Huh… sure, I guess," with visible indifference.
So he first set out to spark her curiosity about racing.
Then, around last September—
A single encounter changed her.
"Look, look, look, Trainer! Isn’t this amazing?!"
More excited than he had ever seen her, she showed him a race video on her phone.
It had been uploaded a few months earlier. Not from Western Europe, their home turf—but from distant Japan.
If he were honest, he would have preferred that she take interest in British racing first.
But after watching the video, he understood.
The chestnut-haired runner shot far ahead in a runaway lead, was overtaken by an explosive late charge—then surged back past and won.
It was a victory so dominant it scarcely seemed believable for a G1.
It went beyond awe and into disbelief.
A performance rivaling even the otherworldly front-runner who had once torn through Western Europe years ago.
But that wasn’t what mattered most to him.
"Hey, hey—what’s her name?! I can’t read these characters! You can, right, Trainer?!"
For the first time since they had met, his trainee’s eyes shone with genuine fascination—for racing, and for another Uma Musume.
So he quickly looked it up and told her.
Chestnut hair grown to a semi-long length, with a single lock of dark bay falling free.
Small in stature. Pale blue eyes.
A runaway frontrunner.
The name the commentators had called again and again—
Hoshino Wilm.
"Hoshino Wilm! That sounds so cool! What does it mean?"
"Umm… probably something like ‘Dragon of the Stars.’"
"Dragon! Yeah—that overwhelming win totally felt like a dragon no human could ever beat!"
"That’s true."
Her trainer nodded.
She really was strong in that footage.
…No, perhaps it would be more accurate to say she was far too strong.
It was an unbelievable performance for May of her Classic year.
So overwhelming that simply watching it could make another Uma Musume recognize the gap in talent between them—and lose heart.
For that reason, he had worried a little about his own trainee.
But while he harbored those concerns, she was completely unfazed—letting out delighted squeals as she replayed Hoshino Wilm’s official race footage again and again.
When she finally looked up, her eyes were shining brilliantly as she declared:
"Hey, Trainer! I want to race against her!"
…That was the moment.
The instant their lofty—almost arrogant—goal was set.
As the trainer drifted back to that turning point from a year ago—
At last, her name was called.
"Oh, it’s already race time. I’ll be off, then."
She said it lightly, raising her hand in a casual wave. Her trainer responded with an equally relaxed nod.
"Yeah. Go win."
Between them existed a quiet trust.
The trainer believed his Uma Musume would, of course, win this race.
And the Uma Musume believed that, under her trainer’s guidance, there was no way she could possibly lose.
Sensing that shared confidence, she smiled.
"Obviously! If I’m going to beat that Dragon, I can’t afford to lose somewhere like this!"
And so, on this day—
A new Uma Musume stepped onto the competitive stage.
She was relatively petite, wearing a white tiara-shaped ear accessory connected to her left ear.
A streak of white, like a shooting star, ran through her slightly wavy blonde hair.
Lower your gaze and you would see it—the golden brilliance in her eyes, still gleaming with composure even after running ten demanding furlongs in her first official race.
She executed a classic forward-position strategy, advancing cleanly before breaking away.
Unbothered by the slightly yielding track, she swung wide at the final corner, surged into first in a single decisive move, and from there ran a flawless stretch, never allowing anyone to so much as brush her shadow.
Defying her ninth-place popularity ranking, she finished two and a half lengths clear of second—proving both the strength of her bloodline and her own innate brilliance.
Her victory was exactly as her name suggested: unmistakably strong.
The crowd was first stunned, then delighted to welcome this long-awaited rising star.
She may have bloomed late, but still—a promising Uma Musume had arrived.
Perhaps she could aim for graded races.
Perhaps even G1.
…However.
The new fans she gained that day would soon fall speechless at her words during the Winning Live.
"My goal is… to run in this year’s Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe and beat Hoshino Wilm, who’s coming from Japan! Actually—no. My goal is to win the Arc!"
"To make sure I qualify, I’ll win the Oaks Trial in two weeks, then win the Oaks—and after that, I’ll take a G1 every month! So yeah—cheer me on!!"
Win the Oaks—a G1—just two months after debuting.
Then continue conquering G1 races one after another.
Then enter—and win—the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe in the very same year she debuted.
It was, needless to say, an outrageous declaration. A monumentally bold ambition.
Most fans took it as the naïve dream of a young runner.
Others simply shook their heads at the impossibility.
Had she debuted the previous June, perhaps the story would be different—but having only risen in April, there simply wasn’t enough time.
Even so, perhaps supporting an impossible dream was the proper repayment for the thrilling race she had just given them.
Or perhaps that was simply what it meant to be a fan.
There was only one person who believed her words completely.
"Alright… I guess I’ll have to live up to that too."
Watching her from the wings—
Her trainer.
And her trainer alone.
Comments (0)
Please login or sign up to post a comment.