The first thing I felt was the air—the atmosphere, the soil, the very texture of the world was different. It hit me viscerally: Australia was nothing like Japan. It made me realize just how much my homeland had been on my side, supporting me in ways I'd taken for granted. Here, I had no such ally.
My hands began to tremble, clutching my skirt in a fit of sudden anxiety, but then I felt two pairs of hands over mine. Mejiro Palmer and her trainer, Yamada, were there.
"It's okay, Rice," Palmer said with a bright smile. "You've got me and the Trainer right here with you."
"I might not be as dependable as Minamisaka, and I can't run alongside you like Rampage," Yamada added, "but I still have my pride as a trainer. I'll protect you. Don't you worry about a thing."
Their words were a lifeline. I took a deep breath. To conquer the Melbourne Cup, Rice Shower had finally set foot on Australian soil.
"Is that the girl from Japan?"
"She's tiny. Is she even out of the Junior Class yet?"
"I can't believe Palmer isn't the one running..."
As I began my adjustment sessions for the race, the whispers followed me. They wondered if I was truly worth the effort of a Melbourne Cup winner like Mejiro Palmer acting as my companion. Curiosity, skepticism, doubt—I could feel every gaze pinned on me. If you stood me next to Palmer, it was obvious who looked like the stronger athlete.
"Rice, don't let them get to you," Palmer whispered.
"I know…" I replied, my voice small but firm. "I won't."
The doubts about whether I was worthy of the great Mejiro Palmer's support were silenced almost instantly. The moment I began my gallop, the world around me faded. My concentration sharpened until the voices of the crowd were drowned out by a single, rhythmic sound: the heavy, echoing thud of my custom Shinzan training shoes striking the earth.
The onlookers went silent. In their fixation on my small stature, they had forgotten one terrifying fact—that I belonged to the same team as the "Tyrant."
"Palmer-san."
"Yeah."
"Trainer Yamada."
"Ready when you are."
Everything was perfect. My physical and mental condition, my adaptation to the Flemington Racecourse, and my adjustment to the Australian climate—I had reached the starting line in peak form.
"Rice is going to win. I want to make my Big Sister proud."
"If it's Rampage we're talking about, she'll probably be bawling her eyes out with joy," Palmer laughed. "She loves you more than anything."
"Oh, she'll be thrilled for sure," Yamada agreed.
I was running for the sister I adored, for Rampage—but it was simpler than that, too. I just wanted to see her smile. I wanted her to tell me I did a good job.
"I'm off! I'll make sure to bring back some happiness for your honeymoon!" I teased, turning toward the track.
"Wait, honeymoon?! What are you talking about?!" they shouted in unison.
"I'm going now!" I called back, breaking into a run.
"Have a good—no, wait! Rice! Hold on a second, Rice-san!"
"R-Rice Shower! The Japanese girl carrying the name of 'Blessing' is in the lead! Rice Shower holds the front! Jane is making a fierce late surge, but even past the 2600-meter mark, Rice Shower's legs show no signs of slowing down! Jane is gaining ground, she's pulling away from the pack, but she can't seem to close the gap on the leader!"
In Australia, the Melbourne Cup is sacred. Because Palmer—a past champion—was in attendance, the local elite had entered with a burning desire to prove that Australia would not be defeated in her presence. But I ran as if I didn't care about their pride. I maintained a blistering high pace, a relentless momentum designed to shake off anyone who had trained for a standard long-distance race.
"Here they come into the final straight! Jane is closing! In a battle of pure speed, can she do it? The gap is shrinking! Rice Shower is surely feeling the pressure—there's only one length between them!"
Jane was right there, breathing down my neck. But in that moment, as she looked at me, she saw something that defied logic. Behind my eyes, which burned with a cold blue flame, there was the silhouette of another girl running right alongside me. Jane knew that figure. Everyone knew her. The Tyrant who had crushed the world's "Best Routine" was right there—
'Rice is… Rice is going to run… with Big Sister!'
"RICE SHOWER IS PULLING AWAY AGAIN! That acceleration is on a different level! Does she still have reserves left?! Unbelievable! Jane is being left in the dust! Three lengths, four lengths! This is a total rout! A second miracle for Japan—the Melbourne Cup has been conquered once more! And the name of that girl is the Star of Blessing, Rice Shower! An overwhelming victory at Flemington!"
"She did it! Trainer, did you see that?! She's just like Rampage!" Palmer shouted, jumping for joy.
"Yeah… that was nothing short of incredible," Yamada breathed.
"The crowd is erupting! This racecourse—no, this entire country—is cheering for her! Can you hear this roar?! Unstoppable applause for a true champion. Our local girls may have lost, but this is a defeat we can learn from! We will take this loss and grow stronger because of it!"
In the wake of my victory, I felt a strange, light sensation, as if I were floating. It wasn't just the win. It was the feeling I had during that final sprint—the overwhelming sense of peace and happiness, as if Rampage were right there, galloping at my side. I clasped my hands over my heart and, with the brightest smile I had ever worn, I let out a cry.
"Big Sister! Rice… Rice won!"
I've never been the type to raise my voice. I'm shy, quiet. But in that moment, I couldn't hold it back. The joy inside me needed to be set free. Palmer and Yamada looked at each other and smiled, feeling the raw depth of my happiness.
And thousands of miles away, back in Japan…
"Rice is amazing! RICE, YOU DID IT—!!"
I knew that Rampage was currently dancing with a wild, ecstatic joy, probably crying her eyes out just like Palmer said she would.
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