On the day of the Takarazuka Memorial during her rookie year, the stands were packed as always. Although Contrail had missed the first leg of the Spring Triple Crown, her popularity remained unshakable at number one.
Of course, Almond Eye was also competing in this Takarazuka Memorial.
The crowd eagerly anticipated another showdown between Contrail and Almond Eye, hoping that Contrail had adjusted her condition and wouldn't repeat her performance from the Osaka Cup.
In the waiting room, Contrail, dressed in her Personal Racing Outfit, prepared to head out. She stared at the videotape she'd gotten from Kousei, lost in thought. As her Trainer, T could see that Contrail's state of mind for this Takarazuka Memorial was far more stable than it had been for the Osaka Cup.
During the Osaka Cup, Contrail had been extremely agitated. While that heightened state had temporarily boosted her physical abilities, it had severely clouded her judgment. She and Almond Eye were in a league of their own among the New Generation, yet she had made such a critical error.
T knew that Contrail was still haunted by her loss in the Osaka Cup. The veteran horse girls on the Veteran Horse Front were performing brilliantly, and Umamusume were constantly being compared, no matter where they raced.
Contrail had to compete not just with Almond Eye, but also with Tokai Teio. For those at the top, the winds blow from every direction. The pressure for this Takarazuka Memorial was actually far greater than for the Osaka Cup. It seemed the decision to let her relax with Kousei before the race had been the right one.
T also noticed the videotape. Kousei must have told Contrail the truth about her identity, he thought.
"Contrail, it's time to go," T called out, snapping her back to the present.
Contrail blinked. "Ah, right."
She nodded to T and walked out of the waiting room. Her emotions were stable, her condition reassuring.
Looks like there shouldn't be any major problems, T thought, relieved, and headed for the stands.
As Contrail walked down the athlete's tunnel, someone stepped forward and blocked her path.
"Miss Contrail," the person said, their demeanor refined and gentlemanly.
"Who are you?" Contrail asked, puzzled.
"Just a messenger," the person replied, holding out an envelope.
The letter was from the Central Committee. Contrail recognized it at a glance—after all, she had received one before.
"What does the Committee want?" Contrail asked, her voice tinged with annoyance.
Why would the Central Committee suddenly interfere at a time like this? Contrail stared at the envelope, showing no intention of taking it.
"Miss Contrail, why make things difficult for me?" the messenger said. "I'm just a messenger. My job is done once I deliver the letter. Whether you read it or not has nothing to do with me."
Contrail understood the unspoken message and reluctantly took the envelope. After the messenger left, she hesitated for a moment before finally tearing it open.
As she read the lines of text, her expression grew increasingly dark.
"What kind of joke is this?!"
Contrail crumpled the letter into a ball and slammed it against the wall. Her retreating figure radiated pure fury.
Naturally, Kousei couldn't miss Contrail's race. She stood in her usual spot at the very front, where she could see Contrail clearly.
And, of course, where Contrail could see her.
"You seem quite concerned about that junior of yours," McQueen said, appearing silently beside Kousei.
"She's my precious junior, after all," Kousei replied, unfazed by McQueen's sudden appearance.
The two stood shoulder to shoulder, observing the scene on the racetrack.
"You know how many eyes are on her, don't you?" McQueen remarked.
"I know. And I know exactly what that feels like."
From the moment the name "Mejiro McQueen" entered the public consciousness, McQueen had been under constant scrutiny. She bore the weight of the Mejiro family's mission and the title of "The Twins," never daring to slacken since her debut.
Kousei, who had started in the North, gradually built her reputation. The more famous her name became, the more people watched her. She had her own ideals and carried the expectations of the Northern Academy.
Throughout their careers, they had been followed by the "Spotlight"—a mix of anticipation and pressure that no Umamusume aspiring to become a legend could escape.
"Look."
Kousei followed McQueen's pointed finger. The racetrack roared with cheers for Contrail. Almond Eye warmed up as if no one else existed, completely focused.
"The Queen from the Tiara. What do you think of her?"
Kousei answered without hesitation: "She's practically another you."
McQueen couldn't help but laugh. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Kousei's assessment of Almond Eye was no joke, and McQueen knew it—which was precisely why she had deliberately asked.
"In our generation," McQueen began, "there were no truly dominant contenders from the Tiara. Central's traditions never placed much importance on it.
"Almond Eye's emergence might change all that. Can you see it, Kousei?"
After so many years of racing, they had become the very senpai they once looked up to. From their current vantage point, they could perceive things they couldn't see before.
The march of history was unstoppable; change was inevitable.
Almond Eye—the undefeated queen from the Tiara, possessing supreme physical prowess and pure, unadulterated strength.
She was practically a "Super-Enhanced Mejiro McQueen," radiating an overwhelming aura of sovereignty.
"She might be the one to break through the 'Emperor's Wall.'"
Both Kousei and McQueen held Almond Eye in high regard. For years, Symboli Rudolf had been deified within Central. The so-called "Symboli Rudolf's Wall" loomed over every Umamusume in Central—the Emperor was the limit, the Emperor was the end.
The Sovereign of the Earth sat enthroned at the edge of the horizon, marking the end of the journey.
While Rudolf had forged a legend for Central, she had also become a limitation herself. Since then, no one had ever surpassed her. Even McQueen, in her prime, could only stand as her equal.
A golden carp is no mere pond-dweller; with wind and cloud, it transforms into a dragon.
Sooner or later, people would recognize Almond Eye's greatness. Kousei knew this deep down, which was why her gaze was always tinged with worry.
Kousei understood all too well what it was like to have a powerful contemporary. The stronger Almond Eye became, the more perilous Contrail's situation grew.
Contrail had immense pride, and her status far surpassed that of her peers. The Central Committee had elevated her too high, and her mindset didn't match her position.
At least for now, she was unfit to bear the title of "Commander-in-Chief"—neither in skill nor in mentality. Kousei and the others knew this, but they didn't know how to properly handle the Contrail problem.
All they could do was wait for events to unfold and for a new change to emerge.
Contrail entered the track. She skipped her warm-up and walked straight to the starting gate. Almond Eye wanted to approach and speak to her but was deterred by Contrail's tense state. Up in the stands, the Trainer sensed something was wrong.
"What's wrong? Contrail wasn't like this back in the waiting room."
Kousei and McQueen also sensed something was wrong with Contrail. Her inner self was a tangled mess, like a knotted ball of yarn. Unease began to spread through Kousei's heart; she had a terrible premonition.
The race began, and everything unfolded just as Kousei had feared. Contrail gave her absolute best, yet she still lost to Almond Eye by three lengths.
After her victory, Almond Eye's face showed no trace of joy. She looked at Contrail with concern.
"Why? Why did it turn out like this?" Contrail gritted her teeth, her head bowed low.
She trembled all over, her anger rooted in fear. Whispers rippled through the racetrack as public opinion began to ferment.
Lifting her head to see Almond Eye, Contrail finally understood what had been tormenting her all along.
Even with extraordinary talent, life wouldn't be any easier.