Chapter 143: Horseman’s Dream

『Hard to believe it’s already the end of May! Here at Tokyo Racecourse, with the rainy season just around the corner, we’re about to witness the pinnacle every Uma Musume dreams of—the Japan Derby!

The second leg of the Classic races, a once-a-year stage of dreams. Which one of these eighteen will carve her hoofprints into history today!?』

The announcer’s voice carries all the way to where we’re standing, gazing out over the turf.

The Japan Derby—a G1 race of the Twinkle Series.

I won this race last year. But, to be honest, I didn’t truly understand what that victory meant at the time.

Back then, still bound by my father’s words, the only things that mattered to me were not losing and who I was running against. If a strong rival appeared, I would’ve welcomed her—even in an open race. On the other hand, if there were no worthy opponents, I might have turned down even a G1 without hesitation. That was simply how I was.

Of course, that’s not how I feel now.

Ever since I established my own world at the Takarazuka Kinen, I’ve started noticing the sparkle in the fans’ eyes—eyes that crave high-level races. Difficult races. Showdowns packed with powerhouses. Eyes that want to see me run—and win—on those stages. Their desire is insatiable, yet pure.

Now, I want to answer that desire. I want to repay the fans who lend me their strength with results.

That’s why Hoshino Wilm’s goals this year became twofold: “Compete in as many G1 races as possible,” and “Win the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe.”

…And because I’ve begun to see the fans that way, I’ve also started noticing things I never did before.

Like the near-overwhelming frenzy surrounding the Japan Derby.

It’s late May—almost the halfway point of the year.

One of the Twinkle Series’ major venues: Tokyo Racecourse.

Nearly 200,000 people and Uma Musume have gathered here today.

The publicly accessible areas are packed beyond belief, the air thick with body heat and excitement. And yet, everyone is smiling, eagerly awaiting the race. It feels like one of those rare festivals that only happen a few times a year.

As a former otaku, the atmosphere feels oddly familiar.

"Wow… what a turnout."

I murmur absentmindedly.

Ayumu-san, walking beside me, gives a wry smile, while Masa-san frowns slightly.

"Huh? What’s with that reaction? Did I say something weird again?"

"Just so you know, your Derby against Teio drew the largest crowd in history," Masa-san says. "It surpassed the 196,000 attendees from the previous year’s Derby, won by Ines Fujin. So far, it’s the only race ever to break 200,000. A world record."

"Wait, seriously!?"

You’re kidding. It was even bigger than this?

That’s… wow. I hope everyone was okay. No heatstroke? No dehydration?

And a world record? It was that significant?

I mean, sure—I’d modestly claim I’m the most popular Uma Musume in Japan right now. But back then? I was a mess.

"Why was it so packed?" I ask. "Because I crushed Teio in the Satsuki Sho?"

"It’s hard to attribute it to just one factor," Masa-san replies. "The year before, Ines Fujin achieved a legendary victory in a Derby considered unfavorable for front-runners. Then you defeated Teio in the Satsuki Sho. Expectations were sky-high."

I see.

The orthodox way to win a race is to come from behind and overtake in the final stretch. Perhaps because of that, front-running—bursting out of the gates and seizing the lead—is both flashy and difficult to pull off. It’s the flower of racing, and many fans long to see it succeed.

I’ve heard Ines-senpai was incredibly popular at the time. Riding that wave probably boosted my own reputation.

Now that I think about it, it was around the Derby that people began to see me not just as “Teio’s rival,” but as a contender in my own right.

Was that luck? A fortunate turn of events? Either way, I feel a little apologetic toward my senpai.

As I rest my hand on my chin, lost in thought, Masa-san gives me a flat look.

"Hoshino Wilm-san… sometimes you’re a little… how should I put it… airheaded."

"W-Well… last year a lot was happening. I didn’t really have the mental space to think about the spectators."

Digging up that time is embarrassing. I was immature—mentally and physically—and hadn’t even mastered my Domain yet. My running was half-baked.

Then again, calling my entire past a cringeworthy black history wouldn’t be entirely wrong. I’m sure that a year from now, I’ll look back at my current self and think I’m running terribly. And two years from now, I’ll probably say the same about that version.

I don’t just have a life full of embarrassing moments—I am an embarrassing moment given form.

Trying to bury that shame, I turn my gaze toward the tightly packed crowd.

"But it really is different seeing it as a participant versus from the outside. The Japan Derby… I didn’t realize it was such an incredible race."

Nearly 200,000 people have come to watch a single event.

That’s astonishing.

Even Comiket, which gathers countless hobbies and themes, tops out at around 200,000 attendees per day.

But the Derby? The same number of people gather for one race—one single focus.

It truly drives home how powerful and popular Uma Musume racing is in this world. No wonder it’s considered a national sport.

"The Twinkle Series really is popular. I’ve reconfirmed that."

As I nod in admiration, Masa-san presses a hand to her forehead while Ayumu-san gives another wry smile.

"…Does she realize she’s the one fueling that popularity?"

"Nope. Wil’s completely clueless about that stuff."

"She’s very attentive to fans, but… I can’t tell if her professionalism is high or low."

"It’s high. She just ignores anything she’s not interested in."

"Ah—like studying."

"She’s always hovering right on the edge of failing. It’s nerve-wracking…"

"Um, excuse me? Could you maybe discuss that somewhere I can’t hear it? I’m starting to feel genuinely bad."

I’m really sorry. Especially about studying.

This might be a common Uma Musume problem, but whenever I sit at a desk, my thoughts drift toward running. I just can’t focus. Before I know it, my body’s sprinting toward the track.

Still—if an undefeated Triple Crown Uma Musume flunked out, it wouldn’t just be a scandal. It would be catastrophic.

I’ll try a little harder on the next test.

For now, I’ll watch this race, properly congratulate Bourbon-chan, get a good night’s sleep, and start fresh tomorrow. Rest well and begin in peak condition—that’s the smart approach.

Anyway, I’ve gotten off track.

This isn’t about me—it’s about the Derby.

At least in theory, I always knew the Japan Derby was special.

It may not match the international scale of the Japan Cup or the year-end spectacle of the Arima Kinen, but it consistently draws the highest attendance of any race.

If someone were asked to name “the biggest domestic race,” many would likely choose this one.

Held in late May of the Classic year over the classic distance of 2400 meters, it’s often said to be “won by the luckiest Uma Musume.” In truth, however, ability plays an enormous role.

The long final straight is a decisive factor—even if things go poorly early on, there’s room for a powerful late charge.

Everyone has a chance to shine. And because of that, it often becomes a straightforward clash of pure strength.

If the Classic Triple Crown determines the strongest middle- to long-distance runner of a generation, then the Derby determines that generation’s protagonist.

That’s how prestigious—and balanced—this G1 race is.

…But when conditions are that fair, there are drawbacks as well.

"The second crown of the Classic races, the Japan Derby—this race is unfavorable for front-runners."

Ayumu-san raises a finger as he begins his explanation, voicing exactly what I was thinking.

"Normally—setting aside exceptional front-runners who can simply blow the field away or somehow sprint again at the finish—the orthodox way for a front-runner to win is to lead wire-to-wire."

…Now who could he possibly be referring to?

This probably isn’t the moment to tease him. I’ll let it slide. I might pout about it later.

"Because they expend so much energy from the start, front-runners naturally lack the explosive finishing kick of those who come from behind. That means they must carefully manage both positioning and stamina, ensuring they maintain enough of a lead by the final straight to withstand the top speeds unleashed by the others."

What Ayumu-san describes is, admittedly, a world far removed from my usual style.

I follow my trainer’s instructions, blast to the front in one decisive move, keep pushing, and then fight it out at the end without yielding. If anything, my style is closer to “run away early and still close like a finisher.”

The only time I truly adjust mid-race is from the third corner onward—usually when I activate my “Anime Reincarnation” mode.

At least in theory—but imagining having to calculate stamina and remaining distance from the very start sounds exhausting.

Everyone really does think while they race. That’s impressive.

…Or maybe I’m just an idiot. Ayumu-san has been working on my tactical awareness, after all. At least, I think he has.

Beside me, as I quietly spiral into self-reflection, Ayumu-san continues calmly, his eyes fixed on the track.

"However, at this Japan Derby—or rather, at Tokyo Racecourse—winning wire-to-wire is particularly difficult. The final straight here is 525 meters long, one of the longest of any racecourse.

No matter how exceptional an Uma Musume is, if she pushes too hard through the corners, centrifugal force will throw her off balance. She can’t reach full top speed there.

But once they enter the straight, that restriction disappears. That’s precisely why a long final straight allows pace-setters, stalkers, and closers alike to unleash their full power.

Relatively speaking, front-runners who can’t produce maximum speed in the latter half are at a disadvantage."

That part, I understand completely.

Last year, I struggled against this absurdly long straight—and Teio’s ridiculous finishing kick.

In fact, thinking about it, the only times Hoshino Wilm has ever been completely overtaken were by Teio in that Derby, and by Suzuka-san and Spe-senpai at the Arima Kinen.

For a front-runner, 525 meters is unforgiving.

"Objectively speaking, this Derby will be Mihono Bourbon’s second trial.

After the Satsuki Sho tested her aptitude over middle distance, the Japan Derby will measure whether she can handle the additional 400 meters—and this long final straight."

Ayumu-san exhales softly after finishing his explanation and takes a sip of the juice Masa-san bought earlier.

In our camp, it’s customary for Ayumu-san to give a breakdown and race forecast before major races. He usually goes over everything about a month in advance during strategy meetings, but unless it’s my own race, it’s easy to forget the finer points after that long. So this pre-race refresher helps.

…Incidentally, these little lectures have quietly become a thing online.

I found out the other day while ego-searching that it’s now common knowledge Hoshino Wilm’s trainer gives race analyses before every event. Apparently, getting a spot near us on race day is considered incredibly lucky.

Ayumu-san’s predictions are highly accurate—and on top of that, either I or Bourbon-chan is usually nearby.

From a spectator’s perspective, I suppose it’s a dream viewing setup.

Anyway.

"So the biggest rival is probably Rice-chan?" I ask.

Ayumu-san furrows his brow and rests a hand against his chin, thinking.

"…Yes. Regrettably, Rice Shower is a formidable opponent.

Compared to the Satsuki Sho, the gap in raw ability between her and Mihono Bourbon has narrowed slightly. In terms of stamina, she was already superior—and she’s improved even further. Her condition is excellent, and mentally she’s very well prepared.

Considering the long final straight, she’ll undoubtedly finish second."

"Second, huh?"

"Mihono Bourbon will win."

Oh. That’s rare—an outright declaration from Ayumu-san.

"And why’s that? Trust?"

"Half trust, half objective analysis.

Realistically speaking, unless something unexpected happens, she’s winning this."

Bourbon-chan is being evaluated even higher than I thought.

…No. That’s not quite it.

It’s true she’s rated highly—but Ayumu-san is looking at something deeper.

"Could it be… Rice-chan still hasn’t…"

"Right. She still can’t see it. And someone who can’t see it can’t beat someone who can."

"Isn’t there a chance she awakens mid-race? That happened to me."

"It’s possible. But under equal conditions, Bourbon wins. There are no rival front-runners to pressure her today. The conditions for her defeat simply aren’t there."

Ayumu-san’s calm certainty feels unusual.

Just recently, at the Osaka Hai and the Tenno Sho, he’d been saying things like, "We should be able to win. Probably. The odds are slightly in our favor. I think." Painfully cautious.

"…You seem calm today, Ayumu-san."

"You can tell? Well, of course you can. You’ve been with me this whole time.

Let’s just say… for once, the very factor that’s been tormenting me has become our ally. That’s enough to steady anyone."

"Ah. I see."

As he says it, he almost sounds like he’s enjoying himself.

I understand, though.

Domains have always given him headaches.

And yet this time, Bourbon-chan is the only one who’s awakened hers. For once, it’s a clear advantage.

No wonder he seems more at ease.

Watching him with a faint smile, Masa-san—who doesn’t know much about last year—tilts her head.

"…Wait, was it really that bad before?"

"Well, ever since the Classic year, Teio awakened before us. Then Nature did. Even after entering the Senior year, Teio claimed her second before we could. The conditions never lined up for us either. For whatever reason, I just had terrible compatibility with Domains. Honestly, it wrecked my pride back then."

"That badly…?"

"Ah, memories. Those were rough days."

I don’t say it aloud, but around this time last year, Ayumu-san was in a genuinely dark place.

Even though there’s no trainer better than him, he told me to go find someone else—someone more capable—and have them train me instead.

Ugh. Just remembering it makes my stomach twist.

Domains require harsh training, yes—but ultimately, they only awaken when heart and body align at the right moment.

Failing to awaken one isn’t the trainer’s burden alone. It’s a shared issue between trainer and Uma Musume.

In Bourbon-chan’s case too, it wasn’t just Ayumu-san guiding her. It was Bourbon-chan confronting herself and growing into it that made the awakening possible.

…Wait.

Doesn’t that mean the real issue back then was… me?

Was it not that Ayumu-san had poor compatibility with Domains, but that I took too long to awaken mine—or kept entering races that didn’t suit the conditions?

Instead of supporting his heart, was I the one wearing it down?

N-No, it was a shared issue, right? There’s no such thing as “whose fault” here.

Well… if we’re assigning responsibility, maybe it was 2:8—him to me.

But still. It was something we both carried.

…I’ll give Ayumu-san a shoulder massage next time. All that desk work must leave him stiff. Yeah. That’s a good idea.

While I’m still feeling faintly guilty, the Uma Musume begin entering the main track in front of us.

The announcers carefully introduce each runner one by one…

But when she appears, the surrounding excitement surges all at once.

『The overwhelming favorite is, of course, this girl—the undefeated Satsuki Sho champion, Mihono Bourbon in gate 15 of bracket 7!

Though concerns were raised about her distance limitations based on pedigree, she silenced doubters last month with a dominant wire-to-wire victory, winning by two lengths.

Her precise, machine-like lap pacing truly resembles a cyborg. The chestnut bullet train now aims for her second crown—can she take another step toward her dream!?』

『She’s in flawless condition—visibly a class above the others. Expectations couldn’t be higher.

If she wins today, it will mark three consecutive Derby victories for front-runners. Can she overcome both the conventional wisdom of the Derby and the conventional wisdom of distance aptitude?』

"Gate 15 in bracket 7… that’s not exactly ideal, is it?"

"No, it’s not."

Gate loading generally proceeds with odd numbers first, then even numbers.

In other words, they load 1, 3, 5, and so on up to 17—then move to 2, 4, 6, continuing through 18.

The longer a runner has to wait inside the gate, the more the enclosed space and pre-race tension can chip away at her concentration. There’s individual variation, of course, but it’s a real factor.

That’s why an inside even-numbered gate—like 2 or 4—is usually preferable.

Unfortunately, this is the exact opposite: an outer gate and an odd number.

"Bourbon-chan isn’t exactly fond of the gates, right? Will she be okay?"

"She should be fine. …Probably."

"‘Probably’?"

"No one but her truly understands her own heart."

That’s fair.

Still, if Ayumu-san says she should be fine, then he sees a clear path to victory.

As her senior, I’d have liked to cross my arms and nod knowingly—"Yes, indeed"—with dignified confidence…

But lately Bourbon-chan and I have been training separately more often, so I haven’t fully grasped the extent of her growth myself.

That said, she does feel… sturdier than she did at the Satsuki Sho. Stronger.

There’s something about her—an aura.

You might think, What do you mean, aura? But it’s real. There’s a presence, almost intimidating. You’d understand if you were an Uma Musume.

It’s probably close to what Ayumu-san calls an awakening.

When a runner carries that kind of presence, she’s strong.

Derby Teio. Kikuka Sho Nature. Japan Cup McQueen-san. I’ve struggled many times against Uma Musume who radiated that same intensity.

Today’s Bourbon-chan gives me that same feeling.

Whether that feeling becomes reality will depend entirely on her run.

『The second favorite is Rice Shower in gate 13 of bracket 7!

She was the only one able to keep up with Mihono Bourbon’s pace in the Satsuki Sho, earning a strong second-place finish.

Will blessing rain fall here at Tokyo Racecourse? Keep your eyes on her performance as well!』

『Rice Shower’s greatest weapon is her sustained finishing kick. With the distance extended by 400 meters from the Satsuki Sho and the long 500-meter final straight, conditions favor her. Could she be the one to stop Mihono Bourbon?』

Meanwhile, Rice-chan doesn’t seem to carry quite the same aura—at least not yet.

Her intense training shows. She absolutely looks strong enough to challenge Bourbon-chan.

…but in terms of overall balance—mind and body—I think Bourbon-chan is just one step ahead.

An in-race awakening could change everything, of course… but that’s a tall order.

After all, Bourbon-chan’s eyes right now look just like Teio’s did in last year’s Derby.

If I’m honest about which one draws me in more—

It’s Bourbon-chan.

"This year’s protagonist… is probably Bourbon-chan."

I murmur it softly, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

『Now gate 18, Great House, moves into position.

All eighteen runners are locked in. Preparations are complete.』

And so—it begins.

Tokyo Racecourse. Turf. Left-handed 2400 meters.

Cloudy skies. The going is slightly yielding. A full field of eighteen.

Once a year, the race that decides the center of a generation—

The Japan Derby.

『…And they’re off!!』