Chapter 188: Strike Back, Even If Only Once

The day finally came while I continued running alongside Master day after day.

October 25th. The Kikuka Sho.

The final race of the Classic campaign.

For me, it was both my first true objective and the most formidable wall I had to overcome.

While walking through the underground passageway, I checked the condition of my own body.

"...Condition check, starting."

This race holds a different meaning for me compared to the other two Classic races.

The Satsuki Sho and the Japan Derby.

These two races fall into the middle-distance category.

The Japan Derby pushes close to the limit, but even so, it remains within Mihono Bourbon's range.

...But the Kikuka Sho is different. Winning this is impossible for you.

That is what the trainer who once guided me said.

At sprint distances, I possess overwhelming power and can escape cleanly at the front.

The mile distance is, if anything, where Mihono Bourbon can display her true ability.

At middle distance, it becomes difficult, but with proper training and technique it can still be conquered.

However, when it comes to long distances, Mihono Bourbon would inevitably face great difficulty.

According to Master, this assessment was largely correct.

Indeed, Mihono Bourbon does not possess optimal aptitude for long-distance racing.

...However.

Mihono Bourbon's primary battlefield lies in middle-distance races.

Even in long-distance races, she still possesses the talent to escape and win.

That was Master's judgment.

The belief that I could not handle long distances came mainly from my pedigree.

My mother, also an Uma Musume, achieved results primarily in sprint and mile races.

Because of that, it was assumed that I too could only display my strength up to the mile distance.

...But an Uma Musume's potential is not determined solely by her bloodline.

My father's philosophy: "Overwhelming effort and the will to carry it out can transcend the body's limits."

The achievements of Hoshino Wilm-senpai, who—despite coming from even humbler beginnings than I did—won the Triple Crown undefeated.

And above all, Master's discerning eye, which recognized my potential for long distances.

All of those told me that I still had a chance to win this race.

"...Condition: all green. No fatigue or tension detected. Elevated state measured at 128% of normal levels."

For this day, I have trained relentlessly.

When I was in my hometown in Kyushu. When I trained under my former trainer. And after I began running together with Master.

In order to win this race, I have devoted my entire life.

The Satsuki Sho and the Japan Derby were races I could win.

...No, races I had to win.

If I could not win those races—where my aptitude was still superior—then there would be no chance of winning the Kikuka Sho.

Because Master understood that, he focused on strengthening my lacking stamina and adjusted my technical training to compensate for it.

All of it was for the Kikuka Sho.

All of it was to win the Kikuka Sho.

In truth, it would not be an exaggeration to say that this entire year—and more—of running with Master existed solely for this single race.

Everything unfolded exactly according to my will.

Master devoted himself to me—even when people called the Triple Crown impossible for me, when they believed I could not even win the Satsuki Sho.

...Master.

That word is, after all...

Not merely "a trainer who gives the correct commands."

But "the one person who runs together with me."

To repay the debt I owe Master.

And to achieve my own objective.

Yes.

I must win this Kikuka Sho.

"Running plan: reconsidering. Trace simulation starting... complete.

Result: false. Recalculating. Plan revision: base speed increased by 0.39%."

Once, I believed the Classic Triple Crown was everything.

Whether I could win the Kikuka Sho and fulfill the dream shared by my father and Master.

That alone was my entire racing life.

...If I were to lose, I felt as though everything inside me would burn away.

It was that absolute a goal.

But now, things are different.

Victory in the Kikuka Sho is our dream.

At the same time, it is only a waypoint on the path toward a much more distant objective.

It must still be achieved.

But I must continue forward, beyond this place.

To surpass that back.

To surpass that running style.

...To defeat Hoshino Wilm.

For that, I must become stronger than I am now.

The world's strongest Uma Musume, who conquered the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe.

Hoshino Wilm stands close to me—yet runs infinitely far ahead.

With my current legs, I cannot defeat her.

My hand cannot reach even her trailing hair. My voice cannot reach her ears. The distance between us spans dozens of lengths—too far to even call it a contest.

That is why, through this race, I must grow stronger.

For the future.

For the day I will surpass her.

Before stepping onto the main track, I stopped and closed my eyes.

Every race pattern constructed by Master appeared in my mind.

One by one, I recalled the counters and paths to victory.

The movements of the seventeen competing Uma Musume.

My own running among them.

The shape of the race that would emerge.

Considering all factors.

My probability of victory: 53.9%.

The greatest threats in this race: two individuals.

If she has trained herself to the utmost limit...

And if she does not mistime the strike of her single dagger...

If she proves even stronger than the senior who served as her imagined rival...

Then Mihono Bourbon may face defeat.

...However.

"Operation: Winning. Mandatory."

Even so, I will win.

To move forward with my Master, toward an even greater future.

Holding onto that thought—nothing more than pure will, without any logic behind it—

I opened my eyes and stepped onto the main track.

---

Once an Uma Musume enters the main track, until the race itself begins, she checks the turf condition and performs stretches or light jogging to maintain her body in optimal condition.

I did the same, stretching my body while reviewing the conditions of the race.

Track condition: good.

Weather: clear.

Gate position: frame 4, number 7.

While not perfect, these conditions were certainly not bad.

If the turf became heavy, the grass would cling to the legs and increase the stamina required for running.

Furthermore, natural aptitude would exert even greater influence. As Master said, since I do not possess "optimal aptitude," I would be placed at a further disadvantage.

The same would be true if the weather worsened.

Rain striking my body would chill me and drain my remaining stamina, creating errors in the plan.

The fact that no unnecessary variables had entered the race could honestly be called a stroke of good fortune.

As for the gate position...

This cannot be considered ideal.

At Kyoto Racecourse's outer 3000-meter course, the distance to the first corner is short.

An inner gate that allows easy entry to the rail is best.

An outer gate that makes it easier to seize the lead is the next best.

A middle position like mine is more likely to disadvantage me.

That was Master's analysis.

In other words, the decisive moment is the start.

If I fail there—if I fail to take the lead—

I will be swallowed by the pack and crushed.

However, under Master, that is exactly what I trained for.

To never lose the start, the critical moment for a front-running Uma Musume, I polished that skill endlessly.

Beyond "seizing the initiative," I mastered a technique Master tentatively calls Clock Up.

A technique he claims can even stand against Hoshino Wilm.

Now, there is no Uma Musume who can defeat me at the start.

At least not among my generation.

There is no problem.

In most projected scenarios, the one who takes the lead will inevitably be Mihono Bourbon.

As long as I can use myself correctly.

As long as Mihono Bourbon wins the battle against herself.

She will not lose to anyone else.

...However.

Yes.

I am not the only one who has bet her life on this race.

No.

Every Uma Musume here must have made that same resolve.

I thought I understood that.

Perhaps I never truly did.

---

While stretching, I detected a sharp pain in my chest.

Recognizing it as an illusion produced by stress acting upon my brain, I turned around.

And saw her.

The Uma Musume who had entered the track was Rice Shower.

One of the competitors in this Kikuka Sho.

Small. Dark chestnut. Earnest and hardworking.

My friend.

...Or at least, she should have been.

"Rice-san."

The Rice-san standing before me now hardly resembled the person I once knew.

Her body looked emaciated, almost hollow, despite being in the middle of physical maturation.

And yet, the pressure she emitted was far stronger than before.

It was as if only what was absolutely necessary had been compressed into her core.

Everything unnecessary stripped away from the outside like peeled skin.

A painful, frightening body pushed to its absolute limit.

One that made me wonder what kind of training could produce such tension.

Gone was the trace of her usual cuteness.

Instead she wore a jet-black racing outfit—so ominous it almost seemed ill-fated.

And within that color-drained body, only one thing burned.

Her eyes.

Blue eyes that shone fiercely, piercing directly into mine.

"...Bourbon-san."

Standing before me, she made no attempt to hide the hostility—

No, at this point it could be called killing intent—

contained within those eyes.

They swayed dangerously before turning toward the turf of Kyoto Racecourse.

Then she spoke.

"This race... Rice will win."

Those words lacked the warmth one would expect from a declaration of victory.

They sounded as though she had already seen that future dozens of times.

As though she had already accepted it.

A statement filled with cold, resigned certainty.

The training she had accumulated… was likely harsher, riskier, and less efficient than anything Master had ever assigned me.

Yet it was that training which gave her unshakable confidence.

That she would win this race.

Not merely something she could predict, but something she could understand with certainty.

Like an unstable tower of uneven blocks that might collapse at any moment, she had piled up her efforts again and again.

In order to prevent anyone from realizing just how extreme her training had become, Rice-san had deliberately avoided media appearances.

If Master saw the current Rice-san, he might devise a strategy capable of countering her.

That was why she built herself up until people would say, "Surely it couldn't have gone this far."

And kept it hidden.

That was the challenge issued by Team Rice Shower.

A terrifying, relentless obsession with victory.

...Without realizing it, my throat tightened.

Terrifying… no, horrifying—an area so forbidden it nearly crossed into taboo.

Right at the edge of stepping off the narrow rails of a racing career.

A line so thin that one more step forward might cause her to break completely.

She was standing there now.

And faced with that…

I felt pressure.

And at the same time…

I felt exhilaration.

Something deep within the core of my body—an unknown driving force.

What Hoshino Wilm-senpai sometimes calls the "soul."

It was being stimulated intensely.

As I stared silently at her, Rice-san quietly continued speaking.

"...Rice has to surpass Bourbon-san."

"My sister's back… lies far beyond Bourbon-san's back."

"Someday I'll catch up to my sister… and become the Blessing-bringing Uma Musume, Rice Shower—someone who can make that person, someone, happy."

“That’s why… first, Rice has to surpass Bourbon-san.”

“Right here.”

“Absolutely.”

Her words were so cold that they paradoxically radiated heat.

Had she burned herself so completely that she had looped back into calmness?

Rice-san remained perfectly composed, almost emotionless.

And in contrast, I realized that I had lost my own calm.

Because Rice-san…

was the same as me.

No.

Not that we were the same.

But perhaps… I had finally become the same as her.

Just as I looked beyond the Classic Triple Crown and saw Hoshino Wilm’s back ahead of me—

Rice Shower looked beyond defeating me, and saw Hoshino Wilm ahead.

For both of us, the Kikuka Sho was undeniably a once-in-a-lifetime decisive battle.

For Mihono Bourbon, it was a battle that questioned the meaning of all the effort I had devoted up to this point—a battle in which defeat was absolutely unacceptable.

For Rice Shower, it was a battle that questioned a choice that might affect her entire racing life—a battle she must win.

But it would not end there.

Both of us were looking toward the same figure waiting further down the path.

The strongest in the world—perhaps the strongest in history.

A mythical existence.

Hoshino Wilm.

The fastest thoroughbred of this era, of this world.

Even if the vision we see there—and the results we obtain—are different.

The process and the goal themselves must surely be the origin of us racing Uma Musume.

Win races.

Surpass the predecessors who run ahead of us.

That is the meaning of our birth.

The meaning of our lives.

…And yet.

Rice-san had reached that answer far earlier than I had.

Perhaps at the Japan Derby.

No… perhaps even before that, back at the Satsuki Sho.

She had already determined what she sought—what she must do.

It took me two full years to realize my own desire.

She arrived there in just one year.

And ran far more seriously than I did.

That was why…

Within my heart, a clear emotion arose.

Joy.

And a sense of fulfillment.

“Rice-san. …No, Rice.”

At last.

Only now, at this moment—

I had finally caught up to this Uma Musume.

My greatest obstacle on the Classic road.

…No.

Those decorations were no longer necessary.

Racing Uma Musume Rice Shower.

A girl who had run ahead of me.

And now, at last—

I could stand beside her as a fellow racing Uma Musume.

“I will defeat you together with my Master.

…Come at me, Rice Shower.”

Rice had caught up to me here.

And here, I had caught up to Rice.

We stood equal.

Balanced.

Relative to one another.

At that moment, for the first time…

We truly faced each other as rivals.

No further words were necessary between us.

As racing Uma Musume, we have no need to speak.

All that remained was to prove victory with our running.

---

After stretching thoroughly, we waited for more than ten minutes.

Inside the starting gate, I listened to the race commentary echoing across the track while waiting for the start.

“Now then! The start is almost upon us—the final destination of the Classic road!”

“Who will seize the chrysanthemum crown and claim the title of strongest? Let’s once again take a look at the top contenders!”

“Full of fighting spirit heading into the race! Gate 10 in frame 5—Machikane Tannhauser, the third favorite!”

“There’s no sign of overexcitement in those eyes as she clenches her fists. If she can run at her own pace, victory is certainly within reach!”

“With two declared front-runners in this unpredictable Kikuka Sho, will she be able to deliver the race she’s known for?”

“And after one summer, has this girl become a warrior? The second favorite stirring the crowd is gate 8 in frame 4—Rice Shower!”

“She enters the race two kilograms lighter than in the Japan Derby. However, there is not the slightest sign of weakness from summer fatigue!”

“In the paddock, she instead displayed terrifying determination and conditioning, electrifying the crowd!”

“What dwells within that body honed to the extreme—an ogre or a serpent? Will this race bring her blessing… or defeat?!”

“And the number-one favorite could be none other than this runner!”

“The undefeated two-crown Uma Musume—the chestnut bullet train, Mihono Bourbon! Starting from gate 7 in frame 4!”

“Her physical condition stands out from the rest—an unquestionable favorite!”

“Will the astonishing pace control she displayed in the Derby overcome even Kyoto’s infamous hill?”

“Carrying the dream of becoming the first undefeated Triple Crown winner in two consecutive years—go, Bourbon!”

My position: frame 4, gate 7.

Right beside my gate stood Rice.

Yet we exchanged neither glances nor words.

We focused solely on the race before us.

On the plan we had been given.

On the dream we sought to fulfill.

On the goal of winning this race.

Yes.

Surely the other sixteen Uma Musume felt the same.

“All eighteen runners are in the gates. Everything is set.”

…And so.

In a sense, what happened next was inevitable.

“Start!!”

“—!”

Whether the sound of the gate snapping open came first, or the instant my legs struck the ground—

I burst out of the gate faster than anyone.

Skill: Concentration.
Skill: Clock Up.
Skill: Good Track ○.
Skill: Kyoto Racecourse ○.
Skill: Groundwork.

System: all green.

The techniques Master taught me had become my blood and flesh.

And without question—

they were granting me power.

Master had been wary of “her.”

Her presence—and the flow of the race she could create—had the potential to fulfill one of the conditions under which Mihono Bourbon could be defeated.

That was precisely why my start had to be perfect—so that I would never lose the initiative.

Through relentless training—so thorough it could almost be called excessive—I gained the ability to start faster than any other Uma Musume except Hoshino Wilm.

The power forged through hill training, and the familiarity with slopes.

Combined with the techniques Master taught me, there was no way I could lose to anyone.

…Yes.

Surely she understood that as well.

She had long gnawed in frustration at her own lack of strength—at the absence of any outstanding natural talent.

My rival—Souri Cross—understood it all.

“…I’ll beat you!!!”

With her entire body.

With her entire soul.

She came to seize the lead from me.

Suddenly, from behind me, a strange sensation spread—like the world itself was being repainted.

Rewritten.

This is…

“…A Domain!”

---

Overlapping with the turf of Kyoto was a vision of utter darkness.

A cold, empty world devoid of color.

Within it, only one thing shone.

Not her—

but the thing she held.

“…Even if this moment is meaningless.”

Clutched in her hands was a crossbow.

As she pulled the string back tighter and tighter, a single arrow was set upon it.

The light seemed to emanate from that arrow.

…Ah.

I understood instinctively.

That arrow would never fly the full three thousand meters.

Air resistance.

Obstacles in its path.

Structural flaws in the crossbow.

Or perhaps imperfections in its manufacture—or the arrow itself.

Because of these things, the arrow would lose its strength midway and fall to the ground.

And so it would never bear fruit.

It was reckless, meaningless, worthless—nothing more than a domain where almost no one’s dreams could ever be fulfilled.

…And yet.

Even so, there are those who pray for such an arrow.

Even if only a few people believe in it, an arrow shines precisely because it carries someone’s dream.

“Even so! I—am an Uma Musume!!”

With Souri Cross’s scream—

the arrow, wrapped in a streak of light, tore through the darkness.

---

“And bursting through the pack—it’s Mihono Bourbon! The ornament on her right ear gleams at the front!”

“But what will the other front-runner, Souri Cross, do—there she goes! She’s going, she’s going! Souri Cross swings wide to the outside and surges ahead!”

“And the battle for the lead goes to… Souri Cross! She opens up a four-length lead in an instant! Incredible acceleration! But the Kikuka Sho is three thousand meters—can she possibly hold that pace to the finish!?”

…Souri Cross.

Along with Rice Shower, she was one of the Uma Musume Master had warned me about.

Just as predicted, she forced her way forward to close the distance between us.

That in itself was fine.

It was the most probable scenario in Master’s plan.

By itself, it did not fulfill the conditions for my defeat.

Mihono Bourbon is no longer the Mihono Bourbon she once was.

For the past two weeks, I had been running alongside Hoshino Wilm.

And not casually—seriously.

Alongside the world’s strongest Uma Musume.

“Alright then, maybe it’s about time I got serious! Well, I guess I can’t refuse Ayumu’s request!

Normally I should wait until Bourbon-chan reaches the senior races, but this isn’t just sneaking a taste or anything—this is more like properly clashing with her… or sampling her strength, you know!?”

…Her words lacked a certain dignity.

But in contrast, the pressure she radiated was overwhelming.

My legs almost buckled.

I felt crushed beneath it—like facing a monster I could never hope to defeat.

And if that aura would grow even stronger in a true race…

then the distance to the back I was chasing felt all the farther.

Which was exactly why it inspired me to rise up.

Because I had run with Hoshino Wilm again and again—

my sense of scale had been completely shattered.

For me, the standard of a rival running beside me had become the strongest Uma Musume in the world.

Compared to that, the presence of ordinary front-runners barely even registered to my senses.

The only one who could still reach that level…

would likely be Rice-san, as she is now.

Therefore, if she merely used her Domain to move ahead—

that alone would not have been a problem.

But… when the deepest power of an Uma Musume—the Domain itself—is involved, it becomes a different matter.

“…!”

My eyes were stolen.

By the arrow.

By the fleeting trail of light it left behind.

The presence Souri Cross emitted was nowhere near Hoshino Wilm’s.

And I knew this forced acceleration could never last until the end.

And yet…

I could not look away from her running ahead of me.

This is bad.

My instincts screamed.

My soul surged.

A strange heat burst from within my chest.

Immediately, I performed an internal scan of my physical and mental condition.

And I understood.

I am currently being forced into overexertion.

This is the true power of Souri Cross’s Domain.

…Worst-case scenario detected.

Master.

Please accept my apology—and my gratitude.

If I had been running alone, defeat would already have been certain.

If I became overexcited and wasted stamina, Mihono Bourbon’s strength—her stable lap-running style—would collapse.

Now that Souri Cross had triggered that reaction in me, I would inevitably lack the stamina needed for the final stretch.

But.

I have Master.

The one person who supports me.

The one who runs together with me.

My Master.

“—Hah!”

Plan change. Switching from Beta to Eta.

Heat venting initiated. Running plan redefined.

There is no problem.

Though this is the worst-case scenario, Master had anticipated even this development.

And of course, he prepared countermeasures for it.

One of the defeat conditions has been fulfilled…

But even from here, with Master beside me, victory is still more than possible.

Remaining distance on the course: 2361 meters.

Environmental factors. The movements of the other competitors. The influence of the Domain-induced overexertion.

All variables quantified.

Recalculation complete.

Appropriate speed determined.

I rebuild my running once more.

Everything—exactly as Master planned.

All toward my own victory.

“Mihono Bourbon is seeing another runner ahead of her for the first time since her debut race!”

“She’s closing the gap on the leader Souri Cross—three lengths… now two lengths!”

“Four, five lengths back from Bourbon sits Shabaranke!”

“They’re approaching the fourth corner of the first lap! Number 10, Machikane Tannhauser, runs in fourth place, and right behind her in excellent position is Rice Shower!”

“The race has only just begun, but the field has already stretched out dramatically! Who will make the next move from here!?”