While the world around Rampage remained as chaotic as ever—fresh off the heels of a "Legend Race" masquerading as a Japan Cup rehearsal—the girls of Team Pleiades were busy carving out their own paths. Under the guidance of a trainer who was as brilliant as she was "broken" in terms of common sense, the rookies continued their preparations for their upcoming debuts.
"Hey, Rampage-san... does that stuff really work?"
"If you want to see the proof, she's standing right in front of you," Rampage replied, not missing a beat. "Or should I introduce you to the 'Lady' who pulled off three consecutive Yasuda Kinen wins using this method?"
Maya, taking a breather beside her, had asked the question with a healthy dose of skepticism. She was referring, of course, to the Shinzan Irons—heavy training shoes. To a modern observer, they seemed like a relic of a bygone era, a borderline sadistic training method designed to do nothing but punish the body. Maya's previous trainers had used them as a cautionary tale of "how not to train."
"Your old trainers were wise," Rampage admitted. "Their opinion was technically correct."
"Then doesn't that mean your coaching is wrong?" Maya tilted her head.
"Not at all. It just means I actually know how to use them."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Since Maya was still the newest addition to the team, Rampage took a moment to explain the philosophy behind the irons. They weren't meant to build raw muscle; they were meant to force the body to learn how to move efficiently to avoid injury. While they did provide mental hardening, that was merely a secondary benefit.
"If you use your body correctly, running in Shinzan Irons is actually easy. Well, assuming you have the baseline leg strength to begin with."
"I see..." Maya hummed. "But you aren't making most of the Pleiades girls use them, are you?"
"They're still in the foundational phase. It's most effective to introduce them once a girl gains enough confidence in her own strength to start getting cocky."
Currently, the only one in Pleiades wearing them was Stego. Her physical ceiling was so much higher than the others that Rampage had decided to bake in injury-prevention habits early on. Even then, Stego was only using "Level 2" irons—the introductory set.
"Guh... You... little...!!" Stego hissed through gritted teeth.
"Don't just try to muscle through it with raw power," Rampage barked at her. "Use your whole body. If you run sloppy, you're just going to hurt yourself."
"If it were... that easy... I wouldn't be... struggling... damn it!"
"Hey, you're the one who asked for them. If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at yourself for clearing my previous menu so fast."
"Fine! I'll do it! I'll do the damn thing, just watch me!!"
Since Stego had practically begged for the challenge, Rampage felt zero guilt. In fact, she figured Stego should be grateful. Grumpiness aside, she knew Stego could handle it. If the girl needed to vent her frustrations on her trainer, so be it—that was part of the job description, and certainly part of the paycheck.
"Suzuka! Don't overdo it! You aren't ready for that stage yet!"
"I know! But I'm starting to feel it... I can see the sensation... Just one more time, please!"
"I'll give you three more tries. But do not cross your limit. That's an order."
"Thank you!"
With a look of pure joy, Silence Suzuka dove back into the straightaway leading into the corner. Dober and Air Groove moved in beside her, flanking her and applying intense lateral pressure. It was like they were trying to grind her into the inner rail. With barely thirty centimeters of space left, Suzuka sprinted along the absolute edge of the track, her footwork visibly evolving with every stride.
'Don't fight the flow... go with it... read the grass...!'
Suzuka's foot slipped. But it wasn't an accident. Even as her hoof skidded, it maintained a terrifying grip on the turf. She used the momentum to propel herself into the next step, hugging the rail with surgical precision. Halfway through, however, she cut the maneuver short, reverting to her standard stride. As she pulled up past the corner, she wore a look of deep dissatisfaction.
"Still not there... if I kept going, I would have lost my balance."
"Are you kidding?" Dober panted, catching up. "That was incredible. How are you so strong against the rail?"
"Rampage-san is one thing," Air Groove added, "but how did you get this good? We thought we finally had you pinned."
"I've been practicing my weight distribution," Suzuka explained, her eyes distant. "But it's still not enough. I wonder if I can get it perfect before my debut... maybe I'll ask for another session tonight."
Rampage, watching from the sidelines, knew exactly what Suzuka was trying to pull off. It was high-level, high-risk, which was why she was keeping a tight leash on her.
Just then, Sunny Brian arrived, led by Taiki Shuttle.
"We're baaaaack!" Taiki chirped.
"Welcome back. How did the session go?" Rampage asked.
"...Hah. The road to victory against Team Nemesis is a long one," Sunny sighed, looking dejected.
Lately, Pleiades had been running frequent practice heats against Team Nemesis. It was a win-win: Pleiades gained race experience, and Nemesis got to vent their competitive fire while trying to impress their "Boss." Sunny had been attempting to master her "Phantom Lead"—a deceptive front-running style—but it was proving difficult to execute in a crowd.
"You're only a first-year in the middle school division," Rampage reminded her. "There's no need to rush."
"I know that, logically. But when I'm up against other first-years, I hate losing."
"Good. Ambition is a requirement. How about you, Taiki?"
"I won!" Taiki beamed.
"Yeah, her partner was feeling it today," Sunny muttered, gesturing to Taiki.
Taiki had been frequenting the Nemesis practices alongside Sunny and was racking up wins. She was holding her own even against second-years, earning her a personal shout-out from Sunday Silence herself. It was a simple matter of raw specs; some girls were just born with a different engine.
"Let's take it slow," Rampage said. "I never said you had to win everything this year. Winning a practice heat isn't the requirement for moving to the next stage."
"Wait, it's not?" Sunny blinked.
"We're in the foundation stage. You move on when your foundation is unbreakable. Not a moment sooner."
"Maybe I was rushing..." Sunny mused, her energy returning. "Alright! Taiki, can you go again?"
"No problem!"
The two of them dashed off again. They made a surprisingly good pair, Rampage thought as she began to stretch her own limbs.
"Alright... I guess it's time I got some work in, too. Maya-ya, let's see what you've got."
"Wait, I get to run with you, Rampage-san?!"
"I need to stay in shape for the Legend Race, too."
"By the way, Maya," Dober chimed in, "I was wondering... what distance and surface is Rampage-san actually going to run?"
It was a simple question: Turf or dirt? Sprint or stay?
"Who knows," Rampage smirked. "Why don't you find out on the track?"
"Yay! Let's go, let's go!" Maya cheered.
Ever since the Queen Elizabeth II Cup, the bond between Maya and Rampage had solidified. While some might call them sisters, the other trainers often whispered that they looked more like a mother and daughter—a comparison that left Rampage feeling deeply conflicted.
'Do I really look that old...?' she wondered.
But that wasn't the only source of her unease. She was starting to notice something—unconsciously, perhaps—lingering in the air...
'Rampage-san is giving off such "Mommy" vibes... oh god, my nose is bleeding...'
Somewhere nearby, a certain anonymous Horse Girl was reaching her limit.
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