Chapter 19: A Certain Horino’s Reflection Log

…Strangely enough.

I knew this day would come, and I understood the weight it carried. And yet, now that the day itself is finally here, it doesn’t feel real at all.

"Once again, how are you feeling, Hoshino Wilm?"

"Perfect. I made sure to get a solid seven and a half hours of sleep last night, and I consider my condition to be as good as it can possibly be."

"…Mm. You look to be in top form to me as well. Your preparation is excellent. All that’s left is to keep your body loose until we head to the paddock. We’ll be waiting for quite a while."

"Understood."

I exchange a few words with Hoshino Wilm in the waiting room. She’s completely normal—Hoshino Wilm as she always is. Meanwhile, as for me… am I really managing to keep my mask on?

The starting point of the Classic Road: the G1, the Satsuki Sho. That is the race my trainee will be running in today.

Held in April of the Classic class, when the Uma Musume’s bodies have reached their peak, it takes place at Nakayama Racecourse—a right-handed, 2,000-meter turf race. True to the saying, “the fastest Uma Musume wins,” this race places the highest value on raw, straightforward speed.

Before reaching this stage, the only mid-distance G1 available is the Hopeful Stakes at the end of the Junior class. As a result, for Uma Musume whose strengths lie in the mid- to long-distance range and who couldn’t participate there, this becomes their very first G1 race.

Composure born from experience carries enormous weight in competition. Especially when it’s not just about comparing raw power, but about employing advanced tactics, techniques, and schemes—familiarity is essential to free up the mental space needed to think.

…Which means that Uma Musume making their G1 debut simply don’t have the leeway to use complicated tricks.

A distance of 2,000 meters can seem long, but it’s also short. For Uma Musume at this stage, it’s a distance they’ll blaze through in about two minutes. In an environment with neither experience nor time, what truly speaks is their individual specs… in other words, “speed.”

There’s nothing particularly difficult about the Satsuki Sho. The Uma Musume who runs in the most ideal, most beautiful, and fastest way wins. That is exactly what the G1 race known as the Satsuki Sho is.

…Well, unless someone’s talent is truly exceptional.

Even so, this is a race contested by the strongest, honed through a crucible of ruthless selection. Even if it were merely a matter of comparing speed, a staggering dead heat would be unavoidable.

The Classic races are one proof of excellence. Naturally, most Uma Musume with the aptitude will wish to run in this race. Unfortunately, the vast majority will see that dream fade away.

And that’s only natural. The Satsuki Sho has room for just eighteen entrants. Out of nearly four hundred Uma Musume of the same generation—and well over a thousand if you include the regional circuits—only the top eighteen are allowed to stand on this stage.

…Now then, this is where the real issue begins.

It goes without saying, but handling an Uma Musume like that is the role of a veteran trainer—someone backed by the knowledge of a prestigious lineage and years of experience.

No matter how elite your background may be, for a rookie trainer in the Central circuit, the first goal is to lead your trainee to victory in a Twinkle Series graded race… a G3. You learn to work in lockstep with your trainee, gradually accumulating that know-how within yourself, and only once it has truly taken shape do you set your sights on a G1. That’s what’s normal.

In fact, the moment you’ve even once guided a trainee to a G1 victory, it’s fair to say you’ve proven yourself an outstanding trainer. That’s how heavy the value of a G1 victory truly is.

My sense of perspective has been warped by the app from my previous life, and by Hoshino Wilm herself, but… to put it plainly, a G1 win is nothing short of a “dream.” Even my father, a trainer superior to anyone else, managed only five G1 victories with his trainees over the course of his entire career. Being in charge of a G1-level Uma Musume is just that rare—and that heavy a responsibility.

Which is precisely why… it doesn’t feel real.

Hoshino Wilm. An Uma Musume with the highest possible talent, born like a sudden mutation. And I’m the one assigned to train her… not just reaching G1, but standing on the stage of the Satsuki Sho itself.

Isn’t that unbalanced?

Am I truly worthy, as Hoshino Wilm’s trainer?

I’m a rookie, with no experience, and even now I’m frozen stiff with nerves. I want to believe in Hoshino Wilm’s victory, and yet I can’t help thinking that something might go wrong and she’ll lose… Faced with the sheer prestige of the Satsuki Sho, my faith in her victory wavers.

It wasn’t like this during the Hopeful Stakes. Back then, I watched the race calmly, almost like a detached observer, weighing the entrants’ stats, the weather, the track condition, and the distance.

Looking back now, maybe I was half treating it like a game. Training Uma Musume. Entering the Hopeful Stakes. In the app from my previous life, I’d experienced those things again and again. That’s probably why I felt this life was just an extension of that.

But two events shook my heart.

One was Nature’s incredible performance. She toyed with Tokai Teio—who should have been overwhelmingly superior in class—completely controlled the race… and then closed in on Hoshino Wilm.

And the other was… Hoshino Wilm telling me about her past. She has her own life, her own suffering—and she trusted me enough to confide in me.

Because of those two things, I finally understood.

Uma Musume are alive.

They’re not game data. They live in this world, and they run in this world.

The sensation of it being a game split away from reality. I could no longer layer the two on top of each other. …At last, I was able to properly recognize the reality right in front of me.

Sending my trainee into the Satsuki Sho—something I should have done countless times by now—has become… for me, a first-time challenge far beyond my station.

I have knowledge. I inherited the vast accumulation of knowledge woven through the history of the Horino family. As one of the most prestigious families in this world, the Horinos possess an overwhelming volume of data worthy of being called a national treasure, along with the wisdom to support it.

I have ability. This inexplicable observational power born from “app reincarnation” is an absurd advantage. When it comes to managing Uma Musume, I’m confident I can do better than the average veteran trainer.

But I lack experience. I’ve never once been in charge of an Uma Musume before. For some reason, I even bypassed the usual path of serving as a sub-trainer or instructor, so I don’t have that experience either.

And more than anything else, I lack resolve. I’m still not prepared for other Uma Musume’s dreams to be crushed, or for my own trainee to lose. Even if Hoshino Wilm were to win, I might not be able to rejoice from the bottom of my heart.

So… am I really worthy to be Hoshino Wilm’s contracted trainer? Do I have the right to stand beside this strongest of Uma Musume… to be at her side?

"Trainer?"

"…Hm? What is it, Hoshino Wilm?"

"It’s your turn, Trainer. Come on. ‘Sa.’ ‘Sa.’"

Her voice finally pulls my thoughts back to reality. ‘Sa’… ‘sa’? Oh, right—shiritori. Now that I think about it, we were playing it to kill time.

"Sa… ‘sa,’ huh. When I actually try to think of one, nothing comes to mind. ‘Sanpu.’"

"Again with ‘pu’… ‘pu,’ ‘pu’… ‘Professional.’"

"‘Loop.’"

"‘Pu’………… ‘Princess.’"

"‘Soup.’"

"Trainer, aren’t you being a little too childish?"

"‘Cup.’"

"No, that one doesn’t count."

"‘Dope.’"

"Ah, you’re not even listening anymore, are you?"

"‘Wipe.’"

Shiritori, huh. It feels like it’s been a long time since I last played. Just over a year ago, back when I had no idea how to communicate with Hoshino Wilm… Unable to bear the heavy silence, I was the one who suggested shiritori.

After that, whenever we had a bit of free time, we’d play it without thinking. These days, our conversations are completely taken over by talk of Nature, Turbo, and mock races, but… there was a time like that, I realize with a sense of nostalgia.

Back when I could still wear the mask of a trainer reasonably well. …Back when I was looking at Hoshino Wilm’s fate with a gamer’s detachment.

If it were the me from back then, would I have been able to face this Satsuki Sho without any hesitation…?

…No.

Everything is different now. Compared to the days when I couldn’t even scout properly, I should be a far better trainer than I was then.

And yet… how pathetic.

Am I really so cornered that I find myself longing for those days?

"Um, Trainer? …Trainer!"

"Hm… what is it, Hoshino Wilm?"

"Trainer, are you feeling unwell? You seem… distracted. Like your mind isn’t here."

When I look at her, I see… my trainee’s face—her usual blank expression broken as she knits her brows slightly in concern.

…Damn it. I really am pathetic.

Of all things, being worried over by my trainee right before a race… Forget Hoshino Wilm—this is completely unacceptable for a trainer. What am I even wearing this mask for?

Look at Hoshino Wilm. Standing at a turning point in her life—the Satsuki Sho—and yet she’s keeping a brave face, worrying about someone like me. She’s putting someone else before herself, even right before the race.

And what am I doing in response to a trainee like that? Is ignoring her presence while wallowing in pointless doubts really what being a trainer means to me?

"Of course not."

Never forget why you started.

As a Horino trainer, support your trainee. Right now, that’s all I need to think about. That’s why—no, that’s the only reason—I’m here.

"…Sorry, Hoshino Wilm. I was thinking about today’s race. It’s fine. If you ran it a thousand times, you’d win a thousand times."

"Yes. With your strategy, Trainer, I’ll definitely come back with a win."

The worry fades from Hoshino Wilm’s face, replaced by a calm, serious nod. In her eyes, I can clearly see it—unwavering trust.

Honestly… I really am hopeless.

Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten something important. Whether I’m worthy or unworthy doesn’t matter. A contracted trainer and their trainee aren’t bound by that kind of relationship.

Hoshino Wilm believes in me. She acknowledges me as her trainer and follows my instructions. And I believe in Hoshino Wilm. I acknowledge her strength as an Uma Musume and give her the perfect plan and strategy.

Between a trainer and an Uma Musume, what must exist has nothing to do with talent or ability… It has to be mutual trust.

What I need to do isn’t to sit here agonizing. It’s to change myself so I can live up to the trust she’s placed in me.

And the first step toward that is…

…Yeah.

I’ll start by celebrating my trainee from the bottom of my heart when she comes back from today’s race.

---

Now then—when the URA staff come to call for her, I part ways with Hoshino Wilm. From here on out, the trainers of the Uma Musume who will be racing are supposed to enter the designated seats in the officials’ stand and wait for the race to begin, but…

There’s still time before the race.

I head through the underground passage and blend in among the general spectators. One reason is to hear the fans’ unfiltered voices firsthand. Another is to observe the Uma Musume standing in the paddock from a spectator’s perspective.

…Still, seeing it again like this.

"Who are you rooting for?"

"Heart Blow Up! An upset isn’t out of the question!"

"Whoa—Teio’s fan T-shirts are already sold out!"

"It’s basically going to be a battle between the Emperor and the Serpent, right?"

"Hot Dance, do your best!"

"Hey, did you manage to buy Hoshino Wilm merch?"

"Oh, check this out—a Wilm plush!"

"She’s so expressionless though…"

"Sweet Cabin has real ability but zero popularity, don’t you think?"

"Teio’s been way more fired up lately."

"So what’s the deal with Cheer Rhythm anyway?"

The crowd is massive.

Pre-entry projections for this year’s Satsuki Sho have nearly doubled compared to last year, with expectations exceeding one hundred thousand attendees. That’s how many people are pinning their hopes on the race that’s about to begin.

And especially—just as you’d expect—the merch booths are absolutely packed.

…Seriously, someone could die in here. This is getting ridiculous. From a quick glance, the best sellers are—again, no surprise—Hoshino Wilm and Teio. The difference is brutal.

For the record—this isn’t bragging—I own every piece of Hoshino Wilm merchandise. Trainers get sent everything for confirmation purposes. As a result, my room in the trainers’ dorm has effectively turned into a warehouse, taking up about half the space. I feel bad throwing any of it away, so I’m still not sure what to do.

…That said, the fans here are incredibly well-mannered.

Compared to my previous life, this world’s overall civility is much higher—there are simply more good-natured people. Even when lining up like this, you hardly ever see people cutting in or getting into arguments. It’s not unusual to see complete strangers striking up conversations about their favorite Uma Musume.

I’m one of those people who loves Uma Musume too, and if my position allowed it, I’d love to talk with them… but I’ve answered interviews on camera a few times, and there’s a chance my identity is known. I’m wearing a mask, sure, but I can’t rule out being recognized. If the trainer of one of today’s headliner Uma Musume did something like that, I’d stand out in the worst way.

So, painful as it is, I’ll hold back.

At the very least, I’ll quietly eavesdrop on their conversations while making my way toward the paddock.

"So how do you think the battle between the Emperor and the Serpent will turn out?"

"Hoshino Wilm has already run Nakayama’s 2,000 meters twice—once in last year’s Hopeful Stakes, and again in the Yayoi Sho a month ago."

"That came out of nowhere."

"Meanwhile, Tokai Teio has only run Nakayama once, when the Wakaba Stakes had to be relocated there due to renovations at Hanshin Racecourse. In terms of experience, Wilm has both long-term and recent memory on her side, so you could say she has the edge."

"I see. But Teio’s known for her genius-level race sense. Even with just one run, she might’ve already mastered it."

"Geniuses do exist—regrettably. If Teio fully brings that talent to bear, Wilm might be pushed hard, but…"

"Yeah…"

"Nakayama’s home stretch is short."

"After clearing the final uphill, there’s only about eighty meters left. That inevitably favors the Uma Musume running up front."

"So the key moment will be how much of Wilm’s safety lead Teio can shave off between the final corner and the uphill."

…There are some insanely knowledgeable fans out here!?

I can’t help stopping to listen.

Uma Musume embody both athleticism and idol appeal. A lot of people are drawn in by the idol side, but there are also fans like these—people who genuinely love the athletic aspect.

Personally, knowing there are fans who properly appreciate the results of Hoshino Wilm’s hard work makes me really happy. Happy enough that I almost start grinning.

…No, wait. A grown man suddenly smiling to himself is just creepy. Let’s head to the paddock already.

---

In official Twinkle Series races, an appeal time is held in the paddock so fans can gauge the condition of the Uma Musume who will be running. The Uma Musume finish their warm-ups, then step onto the runway one by one, using gestures and movement to show themselves off.

Their drive toward the race, their physical balance, and above all, how well their minds are composed—by watching these elements and listening to commentary, fans try to predict which Uma Musume will shine in the race.

Until they’re called, the Uma Musume walk lightly inside the paddock, re-familiarizing their feet with the turf. Once called, they step up onto the runway to make their appeal.

The order generally follows the gate number and horse number, starting with the inside positions—but accidents can happen, and large differences in popularity can push someone later in the order… like this time.

By the time I reach the paddock, today’s runners have just begun appearing and making their appeals.

Gate 1, Horse 2, seventeenth favorite: Sweet Cabin. In excellent condition.

She hasn’t managed many first-place finishes outside her debut, so her evaluation is low, but today she’s clearly fired up. She lacks any single, overwhelming specialty, yet her stats are well-balanced, making her—after Teio—a genuine potential danger.

Gate 4, Horse 9, fourth favorite: Holiday Hike. In terrible shape.

She’s overexcited ahead of her first G1 race—what you’d call getting too worked up. There’s a real chance she won’t be able to calm herself down again before the race starts.

Gate 5, Horse 11, third favorite: Heart Blow Up. Average.

Neither good nor bad—just a normal condition. Her natural talent is considerable, and depending on how the race unfolds, she could still place.

Gate 6, Horse 13, sixth favorite: Cheer Rhythm. In peak form.

Strong. Very strong—but compared to Sweet Cabin, she falls short by a narrow margin. Her speed not being particularly high may hold her back.

Gate 6, Horse 14, fifth favorite: Pampagrande. In poor condition.

Her stats are quite high, but the erratic movement of her ears betrays an unrest she can’t suppress. It’ll likely be difficult for her to make an impact at the Satsuki Sho.

So, with Holiday Hike—the one I was most wary of aside from Teio—being in terrible shape, can I finally take these Uma Musume out of my field of vision?

…No. Not quite.

If Holiday Hike gets carried away, that only makes it easier for Hoshino Wilm to be pressured. From Wilm’s perspective, Holiday Hike’s agitated state could actually become a disadvantage.

Fluctuations in motivation greatly affect an Uma Musume’s own odds, but how that momentum influences others is unpredictable. In fact, an out-of-control poor condition can sometimes be more frightening than calm, stable good form.

Which means they’re still threats.

…Granted, they’re small ones compared to the final remaining contender.

Now then—after sixteen introductions, she finally appears.

With the fans’ fervent anticipation bearing down on her, the announcer calls out her name loudly.

"Gate 8, Horse 18, second favorite, Tokai Teio."

Wrapped in heroic racing silks of white and blue, Teio steps lightly onto the runway, her movements brisk and confident. She’s in peak condition.

…Yeah. That locks in at least second place.

With Teio in top form, regardless of who takes first, it’s a one-two finish between Hoshino Wilm and Teio. The others are strong—especially Sweet Cabin and Cheer Rhythm. With their conditions aligned, a solid placing is all but certain.

But not enough to beat Teio.

Tokai Teio is an Uma Musume promised victory. Her bloodline, her talent, her ability—all of it sets her one, even two tiers above the rest. That’s why she stands on the Satsuki Sho stage with absolute confidence.

"She narrowly comes in as the second favorite, but her ability is beyond doubt. When it comes to flexibility and race sense, she stands alone. Can she achieve an undefeated Satsuki Sho victory, following in the Emperor’s footsteps? All eyes are on her, with both mind and body in perfect condition."

Her speed is somewhat lower than Hoshino Wilm’s, while her stamina and grit are significantly weaker. Her intelligence and power are on par. Looking at raw stats alone, Hoshino Wilm has the edge.

The real issue is her skills.

“Position Sense,” allowing her to secure optimal positioning through smart course selection.
“Forward Tracking,” conserving energy while maintaining a strong spot.
“Breakout Prep,” slipping free of the pack just before the final spurt.
…And “Gale Force,” a sharp burst of acceleration on the home stretch.

It’s a ruthlessly complete setup—exactly what you’d expect from that trainer’s Uma Musume.

Especially if Gale Force activates right as she launches her sprint on the final straight, the results could be… no, they would be terrifying.

Unlike the app from my previous life, in this world the timing of a sprint—and of skills, in other words, technique—is freely chosen by the Uma Musume and the trainer who sets the strategy. Because of that, Gale Force, once borderline useless, can become something truly frightening depending on how it’s employed.

On the other hand, skill failure due to insufficient intelligence still happens, just like in the app. If her thinking can’t keep up with constantly shifting race conditions, she simply won’t be able to activate her techniques in time.

…Even taking all that into account, from my perspective, Teio still doesn’t quite reach Hoshino Wilm.

But Uma Musume races are unpredictable. You can never afford to lower your guard.

Before leaving the runway, Tokai Teio thrust a single finger skyward.

The student council president of Central Tracen Academy whom Teio reveres—the undefeated Triple Crown Uma Musume, Symboli Rudolf. When she won the Satsuki Sho, she raised one finger and declared, “First crown.”

Teio’s declaration of victory, paying homage to that moment, naturally sends the fans into a frenzy.

…And yet, the roar is more subdued than expected.

Because everyone here today knows one thing.

This generation is no longer a one-horse show dominated by Tokai Teio alone.

Tokai Teio departs the runway with her crisp, lively stride…

And in her place, the other strongest contender appears.

Over light monochrome attire, a deep crimson jacket. On her left chest, a dull-glinting star-shaped brooch in pale gray—the same color as the ornaments on both her ears.

A passing breeze stirs chestnut hair streaked with a single lock of dark bay.

From her small frame emanates a cold, oppressive presence. Her pale eyes are fixed straight ahead, not even registering the spectators.

Her steps are the opposite of Teio’s—slow and weighty.

Tap. Tap.

With each quiet clink of horseshoes against the floor, the crowd falls naturally silent.

"Gate 2, Horse 3, first favorite, Hoshino Wilm."

She proceeds forward at an unhurried pace, wearing the same poker face as always, until she reaches the end of the runway. Then, slowly, she extends her right hand and flicks the brooch on her chest with a finger.

In the next instant, a gray light bursts forth from the collar of her jacket. Sparkling ash scatters through the air, vanishing almost immediately, while newly emitted light gathers itself into form, coalescing into the cape draped across her back.

It is an almost absurdly fantastical, beautiful sight. Sharp intakes of breath ripple through the spectators seeing it for the first time.

…It’s just like Cinderella’s magic.

An Uma Musume born of an obscure bloodline—yet now, she stands here in the paddock at Nakayama Racecourse. Everyone sees a dream in that image. Everyone glimpses an impossible fantasy.

The familiar fairy-tale ending, where an unfortunate girl overthrows fate and reaches her happy ending. Watching her, people can’t help but believe that maybe—just maybe—she could make it real.

…And yet, at the same time.

She is not some fragile maiden who can do nothing but wait for happiness to arrive.

Hoshino Wilm folds her arms and stares straight ahead. Her gaze doesn’t meet anyone’s. You can’t tell what she’s looking at. …The very foundation of her perspective is different. Her bearing is unmistakably that of something from another dimension. She is not the approachable, familiar kind of Uma Musume people have seen before—she’s something else entirely.

Where Teio radiates innocent charm, Hoshino Wilm exudes a calm, terrifying presence. Everyone who witnesses this instinctively overlays a fantasy onto today’s race.

The ash-covered princess challenging the destiny of defeat.

Or our emperor challenging a fearsome serpent.

That decisive battle is about to begin. That—this—is the Satsuki Sho.

…Which is the hero, and which is the villain?

No one can say anymore.

"The runaway-like speed she uses to lead has carried her to victory in every race so far—always by overwhelming margins. She shatters records as if it were the most natural thing in the world. This Uma Musume stands closer to ‘fastest’ than anyone alive. Is she a villain, or a living legend of the modern age? Right now, Nakayama Racecourse is being stared down by a terrifying gray serpent."

As the commentary concludes, Hoshino Wilm relaxes her arms and turns away, leaving the runway behind. Those watching swear they glimpse the shadow of an absolute champion in her retreating figure…

…Or so it might seem.

But there’s something you mustn’t forget.

No matter how cool she looks, she’s still Hoshino Wilm. The Uma Musume who constantly begs for extra self-training and mock races, who sometimes trains on her own without permission, and who lately has even started using sulking and clinging as tactics to wring concessions out of me… She’s got plenty of hopeless sides to her.

This entire paddock performance was something we planned together. She suggested things like “double peace signs next to my face” or “waving my arms really big,” but… sadly, those don’t exactly fit her public image. After two full hours of discussion, we settled on my proposal: “go full circle and don’t appeal at all—just stand there with dignified, imposing presence.” For reference, the image we used was Narita Brian from my past life’s app. Naribri is just insanely cool, after all.

I feel a bit bad for the fans, like we’re tricking them… but if Hoshino Wilm, whose character image has crystallized this cleanly, suddenly started smiling brightly and throwing up double peace signs, it’d cause confusion on multiple levels. She’s an Uma Musume with idol appeal, after all—please forgive us for polishing things up like this.

In the end, no matter how far she goes, Hoshino Wilm is still Hoshino Wilm. A normal girl with a painful past and an unbendingly kind heart. Not a serpent, not a Cinderella, not the strongest of her generation—just one of a kind in this world, my Uma Musume.

Even if everyone else loses sight of who she really is, I can’t afford to. In a way, that’s the most important job a trainer has.

---

"…Alright."

With the paddock finished, it’s finally time for the Uma Musume to enter the main track. From the designated seats near the finish line reserved for officials, I look down over the turf.

Until it’s time to load into the gates, the Uma Musume are free to warm up on the grass. They can talk to one another, wish each other luck—those sorts of things. It feels a little underhanded, but whispering something into another Uma Musume’s ear or applying psychological pressure during this window is also a valid tactic. Nature, in particular, is exactly the type to aggressively use this kind of off-track warfare.

But right now, there’s no one around Hoshino Wilm as she stretches.

As the race approaches, she slips into her “cold” mode and starts radiating pressure. No one wants to risk throwing off their condition by getting too close. There’s also the belief that in the Satsuki Sho, running your own perfect race is more important than scheming.

It seems that this time, at least, no Uma Musume is planning to poke at Hoshino Wilm…

Ah—no, wait. There was one after all.

And of all people, it was Tokai Teio—one half of the generation’s strongest—who charged straight at her.

Teio approaches Hoshino Wilm and starts saying something to her. I can’t hear what Hoshino Wilm replies… but judging by how Teio lightly stomps her foot afterward, it seems she didn’t get the answer she wanted.

…Sorry, Teio.

Hoshino Wilm is already picking up on the race atmosphere right now. Not as deeply as she will be after loading into the gate, but still—she might not be very receptive to conversation.

As I apologize silently in my heart, the announcer and commentator finally begin their formal introduction.

"Under clear skies at Nakayama Racecourse—right-handed track, turf, 2,000 meters. The track condition has been declared good. The starting point of the Classic Road, the Satsuki Sho. In this race, where the ‘fastest’ Uma Musume wins, who will claim victory and prove their growth?!"

The Uma Musume begin loading into their gates, one by one.

Tokai Teio looks like she’s having the time of her life. Hoshino Wilm remains expressionless.

The two of them are polar opposites through and through—and that contrast really draws the eye.

"Introducing the third favorite—Gate 11, Frame 5: Heart Blow Up!"

"She’s in excellent condition and boasts a superb finishing kick. Can she secure her second G1 victory today and take the first step toward a Triple Crown run?"

"Perhaps unhappy with that ranking—the second favorite remains undefeated so far, Gate 18, Frame 8: Tokai Teio!"

"Can she overcome the misfortune of an outside draw with her signature speed? The small emperor begins her challenge toward the Emperor’s back!"

"And the top favorite refuses to yield—undefeated junior champion, Gate 3, Frame 2: Hoshino Wilm!"

"Will this late-blooming anomaly be reborn in this year’s Classics? The eyes of this mutant serpent are fixed hungrily on the throne of the Triple Crown!"

"…All horses are loaded. Preparations are complete."

It begins.

The once-in-a-lifetime Classic race of my Uma Musume’s career.

…God. Please grant her your favor.

"Start!"