Mirage herself had no idea: because she wasn't familiar with the stage device, the images flashing through her mind were being projected behind her. She stayed immersed in the performance.
"Out of the station, the evening sun fills my eyes."
"Orange afterglow blurs in my view, quietly lighting the tears that fall…"
"A voice in my heart keeps telling me, this is where I belong."
That voice that had told her to give up, that voice that said stopping would be easier.
"Pushing through the crowd, striving upward, forward."
"At some point I realized… I'd been bluffing all along."
She sang softly; memories flowed. Since her debut—those images of her path, running for victory even if she was bluffing. She walked back step by step to the central platform, hands clasped before her as if gathering power—the lights dimmed.
"If I can just run out—"
"—Look, I can grab it!"
"That ticket… to tomorrow that I once missed!"
All the stage lights detonated at once. Beams of every color converged in her hands and blossomed into the most dazzling flower. "From here, again, I'll set out!" "To realize what I want—Reset again!"
She felt her hair stir, the mantle at her back sway. Wind rose on her stage from nowhere. It felt like a headwind trying to blow her off the steps. She wasn't moved. She cast the flower of light to the crowd and climbed, step by steady step, to the highest center. This was her spot—the unique winner's C-position.
Now there was only one thing to do: sing out, pour everything she felt into the voice, and let everyone know her true intent. Agnes hadn't been wrong—she was not "providing a show" as a winner. She was, as a horsegirl, telling everyone who watched her everything. This was her confessional revue.
—
Below, Symboli Rudolf watched with full approval. Lights shifted with Mirage's will; platforms rose and sank with the song's mood. She had thought Mirage might make an Oguri Cap or Special Week-style gaffe—there had been no intel saying Mirage had done any stage work. But seeing her intoxicated by expressing herself, Rudolf smiled soundlessly at her own needless worry. As long as she wishes to express herself, how could a horsegirl not shine on the Winner's Stage?
Unlike others who focus on singing and dancing like idols, Stardust Mirage was the most effortless user of the stage device Rudolf had ever seen. Everything on the stage seemed to help her express herself. It washed her voice—ordinary on its own—into a breeze that brushed every listener's face, drawing them into the song.
With Rudolf's eye, she could read each of Mirage's expressions. Even as she shared her past losses with everyone, her gaze never wavered—that was a gaze that knew exactly what it wanted, a gaze on fire. The song was neither exactly cheerful nor exactly hot-blooded, but like an easy run in the open, wind on your face, clean air, birds in your ear—even Rudolf felt herself drifting, not because her mind wandered, but because she too had once run for the world, fought for the crown. The song was a hand on a door back to that feeling.
"Reset (Re-Production)" was not only the declaration of Mirage's own reset—it was her voice and stage drawing every listener to recall their own original heart—to reset themselves.
"I didn't expect it—you're such a shining morning star," Rudolf breathed. Many can unleash peak potential on the course; many can light every listener on stage. But if the two become one?
The song went on.
"So that tomorrow I can laugh with someone."
"If I want to change—then let it start from here!"
Holding her hunger for each race, she spoke to everyone. If it gave her even 0.01% more odds to win, she'd run the 1,000th rep. On her back were so many hopes—her sister, old man Rokuhira, Oguri Cap, Trainer Hu, Bourbon… There was only one thing left for her to do:
"If I can just run out—"
"—Look, I can grab it!"
"That ticket… to tomorrow that I once missed!"
Narita Brian, who had been blaming "state" for her loss, stared blankly at the girl burning herself up. Under the song, she felt ashamed of having pinned the loss on condition. The winner had shown her will this nakedly. And what about her? Why had she looked down on the race at all?
Next time—next time for sure—!
"From here, again, I'll set out!"
"To realize what I want—Reset again!"
Sweat had soaked Mirage's face; hair stuck to her cheeks. In just a few minutes she was a mess—but the headwind that had blown from the start suddenly rose! The strong wind stroked her face; she closed her eyes, intoxicated, like she was back on the course. This course, the next, every race to come—it was all hers.
"This vast world—it belongs to me!"
"Once more—Reset toward the goal!"
"Power to move forward—fill me more!"
"Once more—Start stepping ahead!"
The music and voice sank; the lamps dropped one by one. She held her last pose—arms wrapped around herself—while the dark swallowed her…
"Over?" Teio stared into the black, as if still not awake. Then Mirage's voice floated up, a cappella:
"O entrusted soul…"
"O soul that is bound…"
"Light beating its wings in the sky…"
"The bowstring is already nocked…"
The clear, high voice told another tale. With the last note, the spotlamps cracked again:
Thunk, thunk, thunk!
Left, center, right—the three strongest beams hit the stage center. There stood Stardust Mirage, a long sword in hand, its tip pressed to the floor—right on the white T at dead center.
The spectators—thinking the performance over—were jolted back and stared. She struck a gallant pose and declared:
"Position Zero! Today—here—is the stage on which I, Stardust Mirage, make up for the debut I never proclaimed!"
"What do we do? Team Draco really is Tracen's rep team." Qicao looked broken as she asked Symboli Rudolf. They were back in the student council office. After arranging post-race care, she rushed here. She didn't intend to deny the result—but in objective terms, Hu Shan Feihong's team had only two rookies, no classic-age runners at all. How could a team like that represent Tracen in an exchange with the French students? Announcing it might itself offend them.
We should never have agreed to decide the slot by training race!
"No need to fret. If they could win, they won't disappoint Noble House," Rudolf said, though she herself was helpless. She'd thought Mirage had a ten-percent chance, but the result still stunned her: Stardust Mirage beat Taiki Shuttle in a straight late-kick duel… Still, Qicao handled logistics, and she added, "We can send the race video and explain. They won't think Tracen is perfunctory."
"It's not just strength," Qicao sighed. "With only two rookies, we can't even pair the visitors one-to-one. They'll just be doing their own training like in France."
"You're right… I see what Trainer Hu intends now." Rudolf paused mid-sentence, then realized it. Hu Shan Feihong wasn't aiming at the exchange itself—she wanted to line up training races to feed Stardust Mirage. Training through racing—that was her plan for this special runner. With that understood, Rudolf relaxed back and smiled faintly. "Don't worry. Trainer Hu will handle it. You don't have to."
"Trainer Hu?!" Qicao frowned but didn't press. She trusted Rudolf wouldn't joke about something this big. She nodded and moved to other business.
—
Meanwhile, at a campus bar.
"My girl Stardust Mirage took it! Ah-hua, how do you feel? How do you feel~? Gahahaha!"
In a corner, Hu Shan Feihong laughed with an insufferable face, arm around Dongtiao Hua's shoulder, eyes full of glee, whispering near her ear, nearly taunting:
"Where's that brimming confidence? Didn't you say even A-Long's team is stronger than mine? What happened, huh? Say something?"
Dongtiao Hua's face flashed awkwardness and helplessness, but she kept her composure. She knew any answer would only egg this jerk on. Opposite them, Nishizaki Long tried to separate them. "All right, all right. The result is what it is; let's not harp on it. Everyone's kids gave everything—that's not something to mock."
"I didn't say a single runner's bad. I'm aiming at Ah-hua. Before the race, didn't she claim my team hosting the French exchange would shame Japan's horsegirls~"
"I still haven't changed my view." Dongtiao Hua took a breath and knocked Hu's arm away. She looked straight into Hu's eyes, voice firm: "Whatever the result, facts don't change. You've got only two rookies. There's no way you'll satisfy that French tyrant, Noble House."
Nishizaki Long saw Hu's worry creep in and stepped in: "Yeah, what you lack is accumulation and time. Hard to make up. If something goes wrong, JRA might even hold you to account."
"Heh. What 'accountability'? I don't care."
Hu suddenly smiled wide; the worry vanished. She waved it off, casual: "The advanced French methods, their training races—those benefits for my two kids—isn't that enough?"
Dongtiao Hua blinked. She'd thought Hu was just picking a fight and had no thought for runners. That's why she'd been angry—if you don't put your horsegirls first, you've failed as a trainer. But after that race and Hu's words now, she understood. Hu wasn't doing it for "face." She wanted high-quality races for her charges—even if it meant risking JRA punishment or losing her Central license.
Right—she was like this last year—by any means, to realize her runners' will…
"You idiot! You'd even do this?! Why not talk to us first!" Dongtiao Hua slammed the table, angrier still.
"Dunno why you're mad. Aren't I talking now?" Hu chuckled, lifted a wheat drink, and knocked it back. Seeing her so carefree made Hua anxious. Hu went on, "Why not lend me all the runners from the race?"
"Lend them to you?!" Long and Hua echoed, startled.
"Yeah. You say we've only two rookies, so we can't satisfy the French. Simple: every runner in this race was selected to exchange, right? Have them all come to Team Draco for in-service training. That makes seven."
"Even Noble House can't nitpick."
"Secondment? Uh… I don't mind. But McQueen and Gold Ship—we'll need their consent."
Nishizaki Long thought it over—it sounded good. He didn't want his kids to miss sparring with the French elite. "Are you stupid?! What trainer hands their horsegirl to someone else? Even temporarily?!"
Dongtiao Hua rejected it on principle. "Then it's even simpler… You two come be my assistants."
"Huh—?!" "We lost. No way you get off scot-free, right? Settled. Assistant Hua—help everyone file with the student council. Gahaha!"
Hu's grin was like Suneo's from Doraemon—lording it all.
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