Inside a private training ground at American Academy, only two Umamusume were running the track.
This was the exclusive training ground reserved for the student council president—Secretariat's personal course.
The highest-grade track, one that only she was allowed to use.
And yet at this moment, the Umamusume running on it was not just Secretariat alone...
"Faster! Faster!"
"Pick up the pace!"
"Sunday Silence isn't going to let you hold that much back!"
Easy Goer ran the track while, behind her, Secretariat drove her onward with her Zone.
This was Secretariat's way of training her.
The gap between races in the American Triple Crown was simply too short. Trying to significantly improve Easy Goer's physical condition in less than two weeks was unrealistic.
But the Zone was different.
With guidance from a powerful leader, that was something that could undergo rapid transformation.
So right now, Secretariat was tempering the girl with her own Zone.
To be honest, Easy Goer's relationship with Secretariat had been a little awkward before the Kentucky Derby.
And because of that awkwardness, even though she had what could be called the strongest big sister in the world right beside her, Easy Goer had never actually received that much guidance from Secretariat.
Yet even without much coaching from her, Easy Goer had still awakened her Zone, which showed just how top-tier her talent really was.
If Easy Goer had grown up under Secretariat's guidance from the start, her current strength would likely have been on a completely different level.
If that Easy Goer had met Sunday Silence in the Kentucky Derby, the outcome might have been anyone's guess.
Of course, that was only something that might have happened in another timeline.
In Secretariat's eyes, if Easy Goer wanted to take several more steps forward in this brief two-week span and rise to Sunday Silence's level, then the only place to start was the Zone.
To put it bluntly, Secretariat believed a large part of the reason Easy Goer had lost to Sunday Silence in the Kentucky Derby was because she had been outmatched in that area.
If Easy Goer's Zone could be elevated, then there was no guarantee she would lose to Sunday Silence in the Preakness Stakes.
When it came to teaching the Zone, Secretariat believed she was the best in the world. Even if Sunday Silence's Zone improved somewhat during this time, she was confident that her growth rate still wouldn't surpass her sister's.
The Preakness Stakes would be Easy Goer's opening move in stopping Sunday Silence from taking the Triple Crown!
"Big Sis..."
"I can't run anymore..."
Under the unrelenting pressure of Secretariat's Zone, the blue-haired girl finally let out a miserable whimper.
"That's all it takes to wear you out?"
"If you don't push harder than this, you'll still lose when you meet Sunday Silence in the Preakness Stakes!"
"Ugh..."
Bent over with her hands braced on her knees, Easy Goer stared at Secretariat, who had run the entire way with her and yet barely looked winded, and felt nothing but frustration.
The oppressive force coming from her sister's Zone really was even greater than Sunday Silence's—but it was a little too great!
She had absolutely no way to deal with it!
Easy Goer fully understood the point of Secretariat's devilish training, but still...
Wasn't this a little too devilish?!
You want me to take on Secretariat, the GOAT of American racing?
Seriously?
After just two laps under Secretariat's Zone, Easy Goer felt like she was already burning out.
This kind of pressure wasn't something a normal person could possibly endure!
The mental strain from just one lap was ridiculous.
It felt like her Zone was being smashed to pieces and stitched back together all over again.
The process was painful, exhausting, and brutal...
But thankfully, the gains were just as real.
At the very least, Easy Goer could feel that she was much stronger now than she had been before the Kentucky Derby...
Sunday Silence.
The image that came to mind was that girl on the winning concert stage, singing into the darkness.
Easy Goer felt that she ought to catch up to her.
She was even beginning to feel grateful.
Grateful that she had been born in this era, and able to meet a rival like Sunday Silence.
Powerful, mysterious, singing alone in the dark—and yet more resolute than anyone else when it mattered most.
That kind of rival didn't come along in every age.
To stand on the same racetrack as her, to chase the same finish line, was itself a kind of... gift.
Easy Goer wiped the sweat from her brow, but her eyes gradually began to shine.
What she admired wasn't just Sunday Silence's strength, but that unshakable will of hers—the kind that never wavered, even in desperate circumstances.
That was what Easy Goer wanted to chase.
And surpass.
"Big Sis," she said suddenly, her voice light but carrying a rare firmness. "I'm done resting."
"Let's keep going."
This time, she was no longer just running under the pressure of a Zone.
Sunday Silence, wait for me.
On the track at the Preakness Stakes, I'll meet you again—as someone new.
Watching Easy Goer pull herself back together, Secretariat's lips curved into a smile.
That was more like her good little sister.
Just as she was about to continue the training, her phone rang.
She picked it up, glanced at the screen, and her expression shifted slightly.
"Big Sis? Did something happen?"
Noticing the change in her face, Easy Goer asked.
"Nothing. Just a small matter."
Secretariat shook her head.
"You keep training. I need to step out for a bit."
"I see..."
Easy Goer answered in a muffled voice.
As Secretariat passed by her, Easy Goer caught a glimpse of the screen from the corner of her eye.
There was an unfamiliar name on it...
...?
It sounded like a man's name...
Is Big Sis in such a hurry because she's going to see a man...?
A strange feeling quietly began to take root in the girl's heart.
...
Near the American Tracen Academy, in the departure hall of the international airport.
Sakuraba Ryo, a light travel bag slung over his shoulder, lowered his head and checked his watch.
There was still some time before boarding. He was planning to find a seat and, while he was at it, sort through everything he had seen on this short trip to America.
Just as he started walking toward the waiting area, a voice came from behind him, calm and clear:
"You're really planning to leave without a word, Mr. Sakuraba?"
Sakuraba stopped in his tracks and turned around in surprise.
Standing behind him was Secretariat.
She wasn't wearing training clothes today. Instead, she had on a simple beige trench coat and slacks, her long hair falling naturally around her shoulders. She looked less like an icy, unapproachable beauty and more like a striking student council president.
"Ms. Secretariat?"
Sakuraba couldn't hide his surprise.
"What are you doing here... and how did you know I was going back to Japan today?"
Secretariat smiled faintly and walked toward him at an unhurried pace. There was something so composed about her presence that even the travelers hurrying past unconsciously gave her a little space.
"Don't underestimate my information network."
She blinked, her tone light but matter-of-fact.
"You are Sunday Silence's investor, after all. If you were leaving America, how could I possibly know nothing about it?"
Sakuraba gave a wry smile and scratched at his hair.
"I thought I'd kept this trip pretty low-key..."
"Low-key, yes. But not quite enough."
Secretariat stopped a step away and met his gaze.
"What? You weren't even going to say goodbye to your hostess before leaving?"
The corners of Sakuraba's mouth twitched.
The hell do you mean, say goodbye? After what I did to you at Churchill Downs, I've been trying to avoid you if anything!
Say goodbye? I don't actually want to find out how deep the Gulf of Mexico is!
"I was planning to send an email before I left..."
Sakuraba tried to explain.
"I just figured you'd be busy, especially with Easy Goer preparing for the Preakness Stakes at a time like this..."
He was trying very hard to come up with an excuse.
"No matter how busy I am, I still have time to see off an interesting friend."
As she spoke, Secretariat's eyes dropped to the boarding pass in his hand.
"What are your plans once you get back to Japan?"
"There's still some business I need to handle over there, so I have to get back as soon as I can."
Sakuraba answered vaguely, his eyes drifting toward the departure board in an attempt to avoid Secretariat's gaze—the kind that seemed capable of seeing through anything.
But Secretariat merely smiled and took another half-step forward, her tone mild and calm.
"You're really in that much of a hurry to leave, Mr. Sakuraba? You're not going to stay and watch how the Preakness Stakes turns out?"
She paused briefly, her smile deepening.
"Or is it that you're so confident in Sunday Silence that you think she'll definitely win?"
Almost reflexively, Sakuraba straightened a little, and a trace of investor's pride entered his voice.
"Of course I'm confident. She's the Umamusume I invested in! If I don't even have confidence in my own pick, then what kind of investor would that make me?"
"Oh?"
Secretariat tilted her head slightly, her long hair swaying with the motion. A teasing glint flashed in her eyes.
"If you're that confident... then how about a bet?"
"A bet?"
Sakuraba froze for a second, a vague feeling creeping over him that he was about to get "dealt with" again.
"Yes. A bet on the outcome of the Preakness Stakes."
Secretariat's tone was light, as if she were suggesting something completely ordinary.
"If Sunday Silence wins, then I'll agree to one thing of your choosing, unconditionally—anything, as long as it's something I can do."
Then her tone shifted, and her gaze sharpened slightly.
"But if my little sister Easy Goer wins..."
She leaned in a little, lowering her voice. It sounded almost playful, and yet carried a seriousness that made his heart start beating faster.
"Then Mr. Sakuraba, you'll have to do as I say once."
Sakuraba's throat bobbed.
There was something verywrong with those stakes.
Having her agree to one thing sounded tempting—especially coming from Secretariat.
But having to do as she said once?
He could practically picture it already: either being hauled off to measure the depth of the Gulf of Mexico, or tossed into some extreme training ground to "experience life."
"What, not brave enough to bet?"
Secretariat straightened and smiled at him, her eyes saying it all—
That's all the faith you have in the Umamusume you invested in?
Sakuraba looked at Secretariat in silence.
The airport announcements blurred together around them. The stream of people in the background seemed to go mute for that one moment.
He knew what kind of person this student council president was—if he turned the bet down, she would probably keep "thinking about" him, and it might even turn into some long, lingering entanglement.
Better to face it head-on than keep dodging it.
With that thought, Sakuraba took a deep breath, and his eyes regained their certainty.
"Fine. I'll bet."
He took half a step forward, meeting her gaze head-on, his voice clear and steady.
"I don't believe Sunday Silence is going to lose. I accept the bet."
A light flickered in Secretariat's eyes, and the curve of her lips slowly widened into open, wholehearted satisfaction.
"Good."
She said it softly, like someone concluding an agreement she had been waiting for all along.
What Sakuraba didn't know was that, at that very moment, a quiet thread of anticipation had risen in Secretariat's heart.
If she won, there was really only one thing she intended to ask of him:
For him to give her another full massage.
Back at Churchill Downs, the relaxation and comfort those warm, capable hands had given her had let her experience a long-forgotten peace in the depths of utter exhaustion.
The feeling of her muscles loosening, of her mind being soothed, was like some strangely addictive stimulus. Even now, it still sent ripples across her memory from time to time.
She didn't truly want to "order" him to do anything excessive.
She just... wanted to feel that again.
At the thought, Secretariat couldn't help pressing her legs together.
Truthfully, if she had simply asked, Sakuraba might very well have agreed to do it for her on the spot.
But Secretariat preferred treating that sort of reward as a trophy she had won.
If she made him massage her after winning the bet, it would satisfy her far more.
Unaware of any of that, Sakuraba only felt confused.
He had expected to see some sly look of triumph on Secretariat's face, but what he saw instead was something more like... quiet anticipation.
"Then it's settled."
Secretariat reached out and lightly patted him on the shoulder, the gesture as natural as if she were seeing off an old friend.
"Have a safe trip, Mr. Sakuraba. We'll... meet again after the Preakness Stakes."
With that, she withdrew her hand and turned to leave, the hem of her coat lifting softly with her steps.
Sakuraba stood where he was, watching her gradually recede into the distance, and couldn't shake the feeling that there was something behind that bet he still hadn't understood.
But—
Now that he had accepted it, all he could do was trust Sunday Silence.
He clenched his fist and turned toward the boarding gate.
He didn't think he was going to lose this bet.
But still...
Once Secretariat was gone, Sakuraba let out a silent cry from the depths of his heart.
Even if he had no idea where Secretariat's confidence in proposing that bet was coming from...
If she had dared to make it, then she definitely had some kind of ace up her sleeve.
As for what that ace was, Sakuraba had no clue...
Now that he had agreed, all he could do was trust Sunday Silence.
Waaah!
Sunny!
You absolutely have to win the Preakness Stakes!
Your little boyfriend's life and safety are riding on this!
I do not want to get dragged off by Secretariat to feed fish in the Gulf of Mexico!
For the first time ever, Sakuraba Ryo so desperately wanted the Umamusume he had invested in to win.
---
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