Chapter 28: Nothing Ever Goes Right

There’d been a bit of commotion in the paddock, so the main entry onto the track for the Wakagoma Stakes was delayed by ten minutes. The discomfort in my right leg still hadn’t gone away, and that, mixed with the usual pre-race excitement, left my senses all over the place—scattered, unfocused, unstable.

Maybe the adrenaline was just dulling the pain. In the end, if the person themselves doesn’t say it hurts, others will just ignore it. I felt a storm of emotions swirling violently in my head—guilt towards Tomio, the drive to earn prize money, and a jumble of either pride or deep-seated anxiety I couldn’t even name.

“Despite the earlier incident, the Uma Musumes are now heading out for the warm-up!”

“Apollo Rainbow seems to be lacking a bit of her usual spark—let’s hope she’s alright.”

—He’d said that as long as there were no issues during the warm-up, I could race. The trainers of the others I’d be racing against were also preparing for any unexpected situations, just in case.

But… is that really okay? Don’t accidents happen exactly because people let their guard down like this? Charging into a race with warning signs and ending up injured—what if it turned out to be life-threatening? No one would be laughing. Even top-form horse girls sometimes vanish from the turf after some mysterious incident mid-race…

I began the warm-up barely faster than a walk. As my leg warmed slightly, the tight, pinching sensation started to fade away. Nearby, Destinate and Brown Mont Blanc kept calling out to me nonstop.

“I’ve been looking forward to racing against you, Apollo!”

That was Destinate. She grinned brightly as she spoke to me, just as I was easing into a light run. But even as the discomfort in my leg faded, a dark cloud loomed over my heart.

—Is fate testing me right now? Or is some devil trying to trip me up? Thoughts like that crept into my mind.

As I paused, Brown Mont Blanc came up and said,

“...I came into this race determined to beat you, Apollo. But with your leg still uncertain… maybe the smartest choice is to step back. I’m sorry for changing my tone so suddenly.”

No, she was right. Just because my body’s usually strong doesn’t mean I’m invincible. There’s no guarantee I won’t get hurt.

The spasms had stopped. The discomfort was gone. Part of me just wanted to go with the flow of the race. If I’m aiming high, I need to win the Wakagoma Stakes. I want to run in the Yayoi Sho too.

But—that’s me thinking from my own perspective. If I were in Tomio’s shoes, even if the spasms and discomfort had vanished, I would never let my horse girl run in that condition.

Which one is the right choice? Honestly, I kind of wish the discomfort had just stuck around. Then the decision would’ve been obvious—I’d have pulled out, no questions asked. But now that it’s gone, my greed is starting to peek through.

As the race draws near, the excitement of the crowd reaches its peak. Their overflowing anticipation hits me in waves. The desire to run tugs at my back, urging me forward.

I head over to Tomio to tell him how I’m doing.

“...Tomio. Sorry. The pain and the weird feeling… they’re both gone now.”

“...You’re not the type to lie about that... huh. So the discomfort’s really gone.”

“Yeah.”

He leaned against the railing, clenching his fist. Of course he hadn’t forgotten our promise. His eyes, pleading and uncertain, asked me Are you really going to go through with this?—and my resolve wavered.

Should I really be racing like this? Isn’t a race something a trainer should feel proud to send his horse girl into? But I feel good—better than good. If I pulled off my usual all-out breakaway, I could probably set another record here in Kyoto.

I don’t have any grand destiny promised to me by Uma Soul. Apollo Rainbow’s journey might end here, just like that—or maybe she’ll dash straight down the path to glory. It’s a binary choice. Do I chase the dream, or shy away from the risk?

“Tomio. I… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“…………”

“I want to run, but… I don’t want to run.”

Flames of emotion and determination burned within me. I wanted to give it my all—for the cheering crowd, for my beloved trainer. And yet, I couldn’t ignore the anxious voice inside telling me not to go through with it. These opposing feelings tore at me, making it impossible to decide.

“Sorry I’m such a wishy-washy horse girl. I want you to make the final call, Tomio.”

“!”

I’m the one who said, If the discomfort’s gone after the warm-up, I’ll run. And yet here I am, uncertain and indecisive. I was starting to really dislike myself.

Tomio’s eyes widened at my words. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, lips pressed into a tight line. He did this several times before finally reaching out and taking my hand.

“…Apollo. I just… I feel like I’d be making a huge mistake if I let you go out there right now. …Let’s sit this one out.”

There was a bitter look on Tomio’s face—it must have been a painful decision. His fist, resting on the rail, was clenched so tightly it looked like it might break.

But if it was a decision he made after truly thinking it through, then I could never blame him for it. In a way, either outcome would’ve been okay. If he had sent me off, I would've raced with everything I had. And now that he’s stopped me, I’m ready to accept it.

I glanced downward, glaring at my right leg. Tomio followed my gaze.

“…If I had let you run and then had to face that decision in the future—would I have been proud of it? The answer was no. I never want to see you get hurt again.”

His words hit me hard. In my debut race, I had run without a worry in the world—and still got injured in a freak accident. That’s right… accidents don’t always happen because of one person. I could even end up causing one that drags someone else down with me.

…With that in mind, maybe stepping back was the right call.

“…Yeah, I understand. Sorry for being pushy in the paddock.”

“No, it’s fine. Just wait on the turf a little while. The staff should be on their way.”

Tomio disappeared into the crowd. Trainers Okuda and Matsuo must’ve been buying us more time by explaining things to the staff, delaying gate entry. Tomio had probably gone to officially inform them I’d be withdrawing from the race.

Back on the turf, Destinate came running up to me. Brown Montblanc followed shortly behind. From the way Brown-chan scanned my face, she seemed to grasp what had happened and stayed back a step to observe.

The black-bay horse girl approached hesitantly and asked,

“Hey, Apollo-chan… so? Think you can still run?”

She glanced between my face and my legs. But with me so clearly raising my right leg in an exaggerated way, there’s no way a fellow horse girl like her wouldn’t catch on. The act itself was as good as saying the answer out loud.

“…I’m pulling out of the race.”

“O-oh… I see. Can’t be helped, huh…”

Destinate’s ears drooped, and her expression darkened. Brown Montblanc also lowered her eyes, muttering, “I figured as much.” My leg wasn’t even in pain—I was just keeping it raised out of caution. Honestly, if I’m this worried, I shouldn’t have considered running in the first place.

If your body’s not in shape to focus on the race, there’s no way you can perform your best. Worst-case scenario? You push through, race anyway, get injured and lose. Destinate and Brown Montblanc know that too. Whether they can accept it is another story.

They had prepared to race against me, so maybe they were more disappointed than I’d realized. If Special Week or King Halo hadn’t shown up at last month’s Hopeful Stakes, I probably would’ve been crushed too. Maybe this is the same for them.

“…Sorry.”

The apology just slipped out, but Destinate shook her head firmly.

“What are you apologizing for, Apollo-chan? Stuff like this happens more often than you'd think for horse girls. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

She held out a fist and flashed me a bright smile.

“—Next time, let’s fight at our best! See ya!”

“…Apollo-chan, I’ll be waiting for our next race.”

Right as they left, the staff arrived and led me into the tunnel. I met up with Tomio again, and a wave of murmurs rose behind us.

“The number six horse, Apollo Rainbow, has been scratched from the race.”

With that announcement echoing behind me, I got into a taxi bound for the hospital.

I’d have to thank Trainers Matsuo and Okuda later. When Tomio told the driver, “To the university hospital,” the taxi pulled out of Kyoto Racecourse.

I opened my UmaPhone and tuned into the live stream of the Wakagoma Stakes. Even through the screen, the buzz of the venue was palpable—it showed just how shocking it was that Apollo Rainbow had withdrawn.

The race started, and with no front-runner in the mix, Brown Montblanc took the lead. She looked a little rattled, but the pack moved with her at the front while Destinate held back in the rear.

It was clearly a slow pace. The front-runners weren’t pushing, and the rest of the field was just adjusting to that. Advantage to the front group, then.

Races always seem to fly by when you’re just watching. Just a few minutes—but for those running, it’s a few minutes of 65km/h intensity that only they can feel.

In the final corner, Brown Montblanc broke away from second place. Destinate had already run out of steam and failed to unleash her finishing kick.

It was decided. Brown Montblanc crossed the finish line first with an overwhelming performance. Still, her expression stayed clouded. I felt the same. I wanted to be out there, to feel everyone’s effort up close. To throw myself into that kind of all-out battle. I hope the day comes when I can race again. I slipped my UmaPhone back into my pocket and looked at Tomio’s profile.

His face was still stern, staring blankly out the window. I turned to look out my own window on the other side. The scenery changed, but it wasn’t that interesting. I sighed and closed my eyes.

Ten minutes later, as the taxi swayed slightly, Tomio murmured under his breath.

“I hate how inexperienced I still am.”

I wasn’t asleep, so I opened my eyes and looked at him from the side. He was still gazing out the window.

“Back in the paddock… I gave you the go-ahead once, didn’t I? All I could think about then was how I wanted you to run in the Yayoi Sho trial, and then the Satsuki Sho and the Japanese Derby…”

"……"

…His thoughts weren’t so different from mine when I was about to step onto the track. I kept quiet, ears tuned to his quiet confession.

"But the truth is—the real truth is—I let my own selfish, rookie desire get the better of me. Not Apollo Rainbow winning a G1… but my horse girl winning it. That craving to build my track record… even just for a moment, it won out."

For the first time since we got in the taxi, our eyes met. His were misty, filled with emotion. The Tomio I always saw as an adult suddenly looked just a little like a lost boy.

"I'm a lousy trainer, Apollo. If I truly respected everything about you—if I really treasured you like I should’ve—then I should’ve pulled you from the race back in the paddock. I'm so sorry… Apollo."

—Can someone in their twenties truly be called an adult? By society’s standards, sure. But even in your twenties, you still mess up, still fail. From our perspective as students, they're the adults we lean on—but adults are human, too. They stumble, falter, and sometimes go the wrong way.

"…It’s okay. We’re both living, right? People make mistakes."

I swallowed down the frustration, the emptiness, and the sting of disappointment. Then, gently, I took his hand in mine.

"Trainer, thank you for thinking of me so seriously. Let’s keep moving forward—together."

"…Yeah. Thank you, Apollo."

Our next goal was likely the Wakaba Stakes in March.

Even if we make mistakes, we’ll keep moving—one step at a time.