With only two days left until the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, Nishizaki Ryuu and the others from Tracen called to check on him.
They said things like, "Chiya, whatever you do, don't get nervous!" while they themselves were taking deep breaths on the other end, making Fujiwara Chiya wonder if they were the ones about to step onto the racecourse.
Still, seeing everyone pay this much attention to his race made Fujiwara Chiya's heart surge.
They were rivals, colleagues, and friends.
At Tracen, Fujiwara Chiya had received plenty of help from them.
Fujiwara Chiya understood the principle of repaying kindness. But if he actually put it that way, they would definitely get angry, because it sounded far too distant. A better way to describe it would be brotherhood.
Just like uma musume, Shirayuki had close friends of her own.
Fujiwara Chiya did as well.
Trainers and uma musume were different, yet similar.
"Do your best, Chiya! We believe in you! When you come back, let's eat hot pot together!"
Nishizaki Ryuu's bold voice came through the phone, along with Katsumura Youta and the others cheering him on in the background.
Fujiwara Chiya thought back to the close friends he used to mess around with in high school.
Back then, everyone had encouraged each other like this too.
"Got it. Leave it to me! I'll show those little foreign fillies what I can do!"
"Oh!"
Fujiwara Chiya could almost see Nishizaki Ryuu wearing that yellow jacket, giving him a thumbs-up.
After hanging up the phone, Fujiwara Chiya pressed a hand against his pounding chest.
He had thought he had already grown used to the fierce battles in Europe.
But when the time truly came to face this unprecedented race, Fujiwara Chiya's heart still began beating uncontrollably fast.
All of Japan was watching him.
The victory in the Prix Niel had caused a huge sensation across the entire country. For the first time, an uma musume from Japan had won on the European stage with such a decisive advantage. To them, this year's Arc was the closest they had ever been to victory.
As long as he surpassed that person on the racecourse.
The final wall standing before Fujiwara Chiya's path to the world.
The Flower of France.
Trêve.
As long as he could surpass her, Fujiwara Chiya would reach the summit of the world.
After Fujiwara Chiya hung up, someone else called him.
Looking at the caller ID, Chiya answered the phone.
"Fumino."
"Morning. No… I guess it should almost be evening where you are."
"Mm. What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I just wanted to hear your voice. You'll come back after the race is over, right?"
"After the race, I'll handle the paperwork. I should be able to return in about ten days."
"Is that so… That's good. My father hasn't caused you any trouble, has he?"
"No. I've gotten along pretty well with the old man."
"That man is stubborn to the core. He often says the wrong things, and sometimes even I don't know what he's talking about. I feel like he might already be going senile."
On the phone, Nase Fumino began mercilessly insulting her father.
But in the end, her tone changed.
"Although he isn't much as a person, there is one thing I can say for certain. His ability is very strong. Even if you have defeated him before, you cannot let your guard down. He has stayed in Europe for too long. After returning to Japan, he could not adapt to the environment right away. The European racecourse is his true home field. So…"
"I know."
Fujiwara Chiya said, "I've never underestimated Nase Hideto. Don't forget, Fumino. No matter who I race against, I always give one hundred percent. I won't hold back just because I've beaten someone before, or because I look down on them. Whether it's an uma musume or a trainer, once they step onto the racecourse, there's only one thing to do."
Defeat the opponent with everything he had.
Hearing Fujiwara Chiya's words, Nase Fumino fell silent for a while.
Then she spoke.
"You really haven't changed at all."
"Actually, I've changed quite a bit. For example, my face. Don't you think I've become more pleasant to look at?"
"Ahaha~"
Nase Fumino laughed.
"Yes, you've become more handsome, and more reliable too. But that's not what I meant. I meant your attitude toward uma musume, toward trainers, and toward races. From beginning to end, you've always been like this."
"Mainly because I'm lazy. Rather than thinking about deeper relationships and complicated things, it's easier to focus on the racecourse. I just need to think about how to defeat my opponent. Follow one principle: enemy, hit."
Nase Fumino laughed again on the other end.
It was a pity he was not beside her. Otherwise, he could have taken a picture of this ice beauty's smile.
"Chiya, I hope you win the race. I'll be waiting for you at Tracen."
"Okay… Oh, right, Fumino. Is there any souvenir you want? I made some extra money over here, so I can bring back a few more things."
"A souvenir… Then choose something you like. I'll treat it as a memento of your trip to Europe."
"Sure."
Nase Fumino's answer was exactly the same as Seiun Sky's.
Both of them told him to bring back something he liked.
Something I like… A souvenir…
Trêve?
Am I supposed to bring Trêve back as a souvenir?
…
While Fujiwara Chiya was making calls, Shirayuki was running at the training grounds.
Before a race, one should reduce training load and preserve energy.
Shirayuki understood that.
So she did not continue placing pressure on her body. Instead, she focused on feeling the track.
Once, Manhattan Cafe's "friend" had taught her that the most important thing in running was control over one's body.
As long as one could fully grasp the movement of every joint and the amount of force applied, then no matter what kind of racecourse it was, one could adapt quickly.
If skills were described as software, then the body was the platform used to build that software.
The stronger one's control, the stronger the program one could create.
And the stronger one's technique would become.
At present, Shirayuki no longer had any problems with stamina.
The only thing she still lacked was technique.
In terms of body control, Shirayuki felt that Trêve was probably above her.
Trêve had not undergone any special training.
Shirayuki had been observing her all this time, and she was certain.
Trêve's agility was something she had been born with.
While Shirayuki was still fumbling around, trying to figure out how to improve her body control, Trêve could already control nearly every movement with near perfection.
The softer an uma musume's body was, the more power it possessed.
If Shirayuki's waist felt like pudding to the touch, then Trêve was like cotton, as if it could swallow one's palm whole.
Looking at the slender waist of the little orange foal in front of her, Shirayuki reached out a hand.
That's right.
This is the feeling.
Her entire palm was being firmly absorbed by the other girl!
"Shirayuki, we're outside…"
"Trêve!?"
Only after hearing her voice did Shirayuki realise this was not her imagination.
Trêve really was standing in front of her.
Shirayuki quickly pulled her hand back.
A soft sensation still lingered on her fingertips.
"Are you still training?"
"Mm. I have to give everything I have in this race. What about you, Trêve? You look pretty relaxed."
"Relaxed… Mm, well, I suppose so. Because I'm waiting."
"Waiting?"
"That's right. I'm waiting for you to challenge me, Shirayuki."
Trêve smiled.
Beneath that lively smile, Shirayuki saw the confidence that belonged only to the Flower of France.