Chapter 48: Uma Musume Derby

The moment we crossed the finish line, an explosive roar of cheers enveloped us. Color returned to my vision as the "Zone" shared between me and Special Week faded away.

Under normal circumstances, I would’ve thrown up my arms in triumph—but this finish was different. Unless I was mistaken, we had crossed the line in a dead heat. I glanced at Spec-chan trotting slowly beside me, and her expression mirrored mine—a mix of elation and bewilderment.

Who won? My eyes asked the question, and she shook her head vigorously. She didn’t know either. The Satsuki Sho had ended with a mere nine-centimeter gap—small, but enough to confirm defeat. If my instincts were right, this finish was even closer than that.

We didn’t know who had won, yet strangely, I felt nothing but satisfaction. We both gave it our all. It was an irreplaceable, wonderful race. With that thought, I wrapped an arm around Special Week’s back.

Noticing my gesture, Spec-chan’s expression softened into a drained but radiant smile. Just moments ago, we had been locked in a brutal battle—yet now, the aftermath felt indescribably refreshing.

Slowing down too abruptly after a full-speed sprint risked injury, so we leisurely circled the track at a near-walk before stopping in front of the electronic display. The other top contenders—Seiun Sky, King Halo, El Condor Pasa, and Grass Wonder—stood there, their faces bright with the satisfaction of having left everything on the field. They welcomed us with applause, their sportsmanship drawing another wave of cheers from the stands.

The glowing board displayed the results:
3rd: El Condor Pasa
4th: Grass Wonder
5th: King Halo
(Seiun Sky likely took 6th.)
But for 1st and 2nd place—the word "Photo" flickered mockingly. Below the rankings, in the time display zone, a red "Record" blazed.

2:22.5—the insane time our duel had produced. The crowd’s reaction wasn’t just joy or shock—it was something closer to disbelief, a murmuring buzz of "No way..."

"...Spec-chan. The Derby’s… over."

"Yeah. It was the most fun, dazzling, all-out race I’ve ever run. No matter the result—even if I lost to you, Apollo-chan—I have no regrets."

"...Speaking of which, how much longer will this take? My heart can’t take much more..."

Ten minutes had passed since the race ended. Lingering on the sacred turf for small talk was getting awkward—no, unbearable. My legs felt like jelly, exhaustion crashing over me in waves. The replay on the turf-vision was starting to loop, but no matter how many times I watched, the finish looked like a dead heat. Some angles made Spec-chan seem ahead; others made it look like I had surged forward.

"...This is taking forever."

"...Yeah."

At some point, I—who had been supporting Special Week—ended up leaning on her instead. My legs were unsteady. Was I injured? Despite collapsing once, I’d somehow overtaken the leading four in the final 100 meters and crossed the line neck-and-neck with Spec-chan. I really pushed myself too far. Our mud-splattered racing uniforms told the story of the battle we’d just fought.

Then, around fifteen minutes post-race, a sudden uproar erupted from the stands. Gasps of "Whoa!" and "Huh?!" filled the air, laced with skepticism and shock. Following the crowd’s pointed fingers, I turned—

"—!"

The board now flashed "Official" in bold. Spec-chan, still holding me up, stiffened as a cry escaped her lips. The verdict—

—"Dead Heat."

Beside the Roman numeral "Ⅰ," the numbers 1 and 5 flickered side by side in an alternating rhythm.

I finally crumpled to my knees on the turf, utterly stunned. The crowd’s reaction bordered on disbelieving laughter.

"A-Apollo-chan! It’s a tie! A dead heat!"

"————"

Spec-chan tugged at my sleeve, but my brain had short-circuited. I couldn’t respond.

—The Derby. Uma Musume.
Did I… did I just win the Derby? The same me who, a year ago, had been crushed by Special Week in the selection race—the me who was nothing? Had I… really become strong enough to stand beside the strongest generation?

"We did it… WE DID IT! THE DERBY!! WE’RE DERBY UMA MUSUME!! MOM, I DID IT!!"

Special Week, now sobbing uncontrollably, pulled me into a tight embrace. Cradled against her chest, I felt the warmth of her tears as they streamed down my cheeks.

And then—as I still struggled to process reality—a brilliant shaft of sunlight pierced the overcast sky. A radiant Jacob’s Ladder spilled through the clouds, bathing the dreamlike cradle of the turf in golden light. Our mud-streaked silks glittered under the sun, Spec-chan’s tears sparkling like diamonds. Sweat and rain dripped onto the track, the wet turf now shimmering like a sea of stars.

The rain had stopped. The clouds parted. Far beyond, a rainbow began to stretch across the horizon. Its vibrant arc over the luminous turf seemed to celebrate my victory—our victory.

"—Ahh—"

My heart, numb from shock, reignited at nature’s grand miracle. Emotions surged—joy, gratitude, fulfillment, relief. But above all… thankfulness.

Thank you—thank you to everything and everyone. The words swelled inside me, threatening to spill out. And then, unable to hold back any longer, I broke. Guided by pure emotion, I wept—no, howled—into Spec-chan’s shoulder.

"W-WAAAAAAHH! SPEEEEEC-CHAAAN! I-I DID IT—I REALLY DID IT—I’M A DERBY UMA MUSUMEEEE!!"

"Y-Yeah... YEAH!! We—we're—Derby—Uma Musume—now—!!"

"Thank you... thank you, everyone!! I'm so happy... ugh, I can't even see through these tears...!"

Once the floodgates opened, there was no stopping them. No matter how much I wiped, the tears kept coming. Not tears of frustration or sadness—but pure, overwhelming joy. This was the first time in my life I'd ever cried like this. Gratitude for everyone who supported me, for the rivals who stood in my way—it all surged up uncontrollably. Endless tears of joy and thanks choked my throat, making me hiccup and sniffle messily as I clung to Special Week in a fierce embrace.

Then, without either of us initiating it—we clasped hands and raised them high.

In that instant, an earth-shaking roar erupted from Tokyo Racecourse.

It was a victory cry—our victory cry. A celebration of each other’s fight, a performance of gratitude to the entire world.

[—Special Week, who seized her dream!! Apollo Rainbow, who built a bridge of light over the cradle of dreams!! Here, two Derby Uma Musume are born, bathed in the cheers of 170,000 fans!! Let’s give a thunderous applause—not just to these two, but to all 18 who gave us this incredible race!!]

As the announcer's voice boomed, the cheers grew even louder. Newspapers and towels, flung into the air by the crowd, fluttered down like confetti. From somewhere in the stands, a chant began—"Special! Apollo! Thank you!"—growing until it swallowed the entire racecourse. Under that overwhelming wave of voices, we cried all over again.

---

And so, the Japan Derby—a battle that would later be called legendary—came to a close. The clash of the six strongest, the dramatic finish, the rainbow that arched over the turf, the 170,000 fans chanting our names—every moment was a miracle, and the tears just wouldn’t stop.

Thank you, everyone—every single fan who cheered for us. Thank you, Maruzensky, Helios, Palmer, Suzuka... my friends and rivals. I could never have become strong alone. So—thank you. Thank you—!!

Amid the grand celebration, I left the turf behind—but there was still something I had to do. Someone I needed to thank. Someone I had to tell—"I did it."

"Trainer...!"

I wanted to see him. Now. I had to tell him—I won the Derby. I fought my hardest. I stood atop the stage of my dreams—and it’s all thanks to you.

Dragging my exhausted body forward, I broke into a jog through the underground passage. The dry clack of horseshoes against concrete echoed rhythmically as I ran. Then, after a few dozen meters—

There he was. Standing frozen in the middle of the hallway.

The sight almost made me laugh. His suit was disheveled, his tie crooked, his hair a rain-soaked mess—and his face, streaked with tears, was even wilder than his unruly hair. The moment he spotted me, his expression transformed into something boyishly pure.

"—APOLLO!!"

Hearing my name, my ears twitched hard. My legs, which should’ve been numb, moved before my brain could even command them. In an instant, I was closing the distance between us. Seeing his arms spread wide, I leapt—

And we crashed into each other, still soaked and filthy, clinging tightly.

Momentum sent us spinning, his foot bracing as an anchor, but his expert handling kept us from toppling over. Even after we stopped, we didn’t let go. He didn’t say a word—maybe waiting for me to speak first. Pulling back slightly, I met his gaze at close range. He bent down, closing the 20-centimeter height gap between us, and pressed his forehead against mine.

Then, softly, I gave him the words I knew he was waiting for.

"—I'm home, Trainer. I... I finally won. I’m a G1 Uma Musume now—"

"Yeah... yeah. Welcome back, Apollo. You... you did amazing." His voice cracked. "I think... I’ve finally repaid even a fraction of all your effort..."

Tears spilled freely as we whispered to each other.

"I knew you’d get marked during the race... but I never expected it to be that brutal. That’s on me. I’m sorry I put you through such a painful race—"

"Oh, come on... don’t apologize now. Or what, you’re not happy even though I won the Derby?"

"N-No, that’s not it at all! But when I saw you trapped in that position, I thought it was over...! I’m just... so glad I kept believing in you. Apollo, you’re my pride."

"We fought for this together, Tomio. You’re my pride, too."

"...Ahh... really... I’m just... so happy..."

His voice broke completely. He hunched over, shoulders shaking, tears dripping onto the ground. Watching him cry, I felt my own sobs rising again—but I swallowed them down, pulling his face against my chest instead.

"...Thank you—"

"Without him... I never would have made it this far."

My trainer had crafted training regimens to overcome my weaknesses, sacrificed his personal time to study our rivals, and—above all—faced me, Apollo Rainbow, with unwavering sincerity. It was only because of this trust, this bond, that I’d grown strong enough to stand here. But in a world where we never built this connection... where would I have ended up? No doubt stuck in the lower ranks, losing endlessly until I faded from Tracen Academy entirely.

But here, in this world—

I trusted him. He believed in me. We failed, over and over. Occasionally triumphed. Hit walls. Experimented, struggled, and finally—

—Seized the title of Derby Uma Musume.

Now, lost in the afterglow, I wanted to show my gratitude not just with words, but with action. I hugged him tighter, as if trying to steady his trembling—though honestly, I was the one still crying messily, and no matter what I did, his sobs only seemed to grow louder. Guess we’re two of a kind.

Just as we’d carved out our own little world in the staff hallway—

"—Apollo-san."

"Eh? Trainer Amami...?"

Still half-clinging to Tomio, I turned to see Hikari Amami—Trainer of Mejiro McQueen—standing behind us. Her eyes were slightly swollen, as if she’d been crying. Before I could react, she yanked us both into a rough, awkward hug.

"—Momoza-kun. Apollo-san. Congratulations—truly, from the bottom of my heart...!"

"A-Amami-san...!" Tomio stammered, bewildered.

"You’ve become a first-class trainer, Momoza-kun. Take pride in this Derby victory. And keep honing your skills—together with Apollo."

"Y-Yes! Thank you, Amami-san!"

"...The Winning Live will start soon. I’ll be waiting on stage."

With a faint smile, she disappeared down the hall. Tomio and I exchanged a nod—right, the Live! In the whirlwind of victory, we’d completely forgotten. Rushing back to the prep room, I scrubbed the mud from my silks and touched up my makeup under Tomio’s meticulous inspection before hurrying to the stage.

"I’ll be watching from the stands," Tomio said, parting ways as I slipped backstage.

This Live would be special—with two first-place winners. While the core choreography centered on me and Spec-chan, El Condor Pasa (3rd) and Grass Wonder (4th) would fill in the usual 2nd and 3rd place roles.

The song? "Winning the Soul."

The stage was already set with steampunk-inspired props, staff scrambling for final checks. Beyond the curtains, the audience’s restless energy buzzed like electricity.

At the staff’s signal, I locked eyes with Spec-chan and nodded.

Showtime.

The curtains rose. Blinding lights flooded the stage.

A blistering guitar riff tore through the air—

And the venue exploded as hard rock shook the stands. Cheers erupted, a sea of penlights surging before us. Amid the glow, I spotted Tomio waving his light clumsily. I winked, then turned to meet Spec-chan’s gaze.

Breath synced, voices harmonized—we poured everything into the performance. By the final note, the crowd’s encore chants refused to fade.

This was our victory.

Our Derby.

And it was only the beginning.