A Uma Musume with long black hair stood beside Deep Impact. Though her hair color differed from Deep Impact's, their facial features were strikingly similar.
"I know Kita-chan is excellent, it's just…"
The black-haired Uma Musume chuckled softly, a hint of concern in her voice. "This is the Japanese Derby, after all."
"And when she was little…" She trailed off, hesitant to continue.
"Careless? Clumsy?"
Deep Impact kept her eyes on the runners ahead. "Probably. But honestly, I think she's different from what you say, Big Sis."
The black-haired Uma Musume paused in surprise.
Deep Impact continued, her gaze never leaving the track. "She's… actually quite smart."
"Running on the outer lane in the Japanese Derby does consume more stamina, but it's nothing compared to losing your rhythm. Maintaining composure is what matters most."
"More importantly… never mind. That race is still five months away."
She shook her head and stepped forward, her focus sharpening on the figure leading the pack.
"For a Uma Musume, which race wouldn't she give her all in?"
"Though it sounds cliché, when everyone is pouring everything they have into it, what truly matters is only yourself…"
"Understand that soon, Kitasan Black…"
...
The wind rushed past her, pulling her bangs straight back. Kitasan Black's eyes, long accustomed to the pressure, stared unblinkingly forward. Her ears twitched and folded back.
The track ahead was completely clear. The turf was surprisingly neat and dry, largely untouched by the earlier races.
The third turn was still more than a hundred meters away. At this pace, she would reach it in about ten seconds.
The sound of panting behind her was very close—just one and a half lengths back. There were also signs of disarray, as if some runners were already running out of steam.
This was not unexpected.
She had spent almost the entire first half on the outside, watching the fierce skirmishes unfolding on the inner lanes. It had been too intense, too fast. That kind of fighting and pace would drain anyone's stamina.
Now, at the halfway point, simply holding speed was already the limit. If they wanted to fight again, they would have to wait until the final straight—otherwise, they would have no chance of winning.
Compared to them, even though she had run extra distance on the outside through the first two turns, she had conserved far more stamina.
If that was the case, then… taking advantage of the upcoming turn…
She would open up a decisive gap in one go!
Her vision rounded the bend. Sunlight grazed her eyes through the turn. Resisting the urge to blink, Kitasan Black locked onto the perfect entry angle, her sight filled with diamond-shaped flashes of light.
Her hooves cut precisely into the curving turf. Mud kicked up by her newly shifted inner leg struck her outer calf.
Her left shoulder dipped slightly. Her left arm reduced its swing, instantly easing the sudden centrifugal force.
Her stride narrowed. Her cadence quickened.
Her center of gravity tilted.
She was entering the turn!
"She's moving! She's moving!"
The announcer's voice burst over the broadcast, mixed with the dull thud of a fist hitting the table.
"Entering the third turn—Kitasan Black leads into the third turn!"
"In an instant! Kitasan Black launched her attack the moment she entered the turn!"
"Her excellent turning technique from the Satsuki Sho is showing itself again—one length… two lengths… three lengths!"
"She's continuously extending her lead!"
"But! Her opponents have no intention of letting her go easily! The relentless pursuers are closing in! The gap is starting to shrink!"
"Ribbon Song! Comet Met!"
"And there, in the vanguard—Musee Sultan! This Uma Musume, who once lost to Kitasan Black, is catching up!"
"Behind them—Tagano Espresso and Subitsumi!"
"The group chasing Kitasan Black has spread into a straight line on the third turn. Their target is clear—Kitasan Black!"
"What about the middle group?! Is the middle group still not moving?!"
"Final turn!"
Kitasan Black's hair stood on end.
Catching a glimpse of the figures behind her in her peripheral vision, the shapes looked slightly distorted—perhaps from overexertion. The racing uniforms blurred into a surging, approaching storm cloud.
The suddenly dense footsteps merged into terrifying raindrops, their impact seeming to tear at the ground behind her, cracks racing toward her feet like lightning.
Her breathing grew more erratic. Every heavy breath echoed loudly in her ears, like floodgates reopening and triggering an unfamiliar alarm.
Equally alarming was the incredibly real wind pressure. Just as Deep Impact had warned, the pursuers behind her were closing in with desperate intensity.
The roar from the stands became strangely clear, weaving together with the footsteps, breathing, and wind pressure into a tight net that constricted around her until she could barely breathe.
Her temples throbbed violently.
Feeling the suffocating pressure from behind, Kitasan Black suddenly smiled.
This is… terrifying… this kind of chase…
But…
Now is my rhythm!
Every muscle in her body, like springs that had been held back for too long, exploded forward. The stamina she had conserved since the start of the race surged through her all at once.
Sweat droplets arced through the air, sparkling. Her nose filled with the fresh scent of grass and the earthy smell of soil.
A gulp pushed the salty sweat into her boiling veins. Amid the buzzing in her ears, the rain-like footsteps and panting instantly receded.
In her sight, the uphill slope on the final straight at Fuchu—repeatedly mentioned before the race—stood like a mountain.
In that moment, the mountain seemed to transform into a sea. She was like a swordfish cutting through the water, or a storm breaking away from the downpour behind her, surging against the current.
"Kitasan Black… is still leading!!"
The commentator's voice pierced through the storm, roaring in her ears.
"She seems to have endless stamina! She's still accelerating!"
"It's the final straight! She's out of the turn! She's reached the final slope before the glory of the Japanese Derby!"
"The turf of the Tokyo Racecourse in Fuchu is enduring the scorching sun. The final straight is a scorching, no-turning-back head-on confrontation!"
"Four hundred meters left!"
"The opponents who were chasing from the leading group have already lost speed. Kitasan Black has regained her distance advantage—she's pulled three lengths clear again!"
"Three hundred meters!"
"Kitasan Black is running alone!"
"But, but!"
"The Uma Musume in the vanguard are catching up!"
"Satono Crown is closing in! Satono Rasen and Manhattan Cafe, though still entangled in their own struggle, are also closing in!"
"And then… Duramente on the far outside!"
"On the outer lane—previously occupied solely by Kitasan Black in the first half—Duramente is now running alone as well!"
"Kitasan Black is still leading, still running alone at the very front, still accelerating—still accelerating after the uphill!"
"Can she maintain it until the end, Kitasan Black?!"
"It's hard to say right now!"
"The final straight at Fuchu is very long. On the straight slope leading to glory… no Uma Musume is willing to give up!"
"Two hundred meters left!"
"Satono Rasen has broken free from Manhattan Cafe and is now running neck and neck with Satono Crown. Duramente on the outside has completely broken through the encirclement. The galloping footsteps of the three Uma Musume are gradually eroding Kitasan Black's lead!"
"But! Duramente is faster!"
"She leads the two Satono by one length, and is now only two lengths behind Kitasan Black!"
"Closer! The chase from the Satsuki Sho final straight is reappearing!"
"Once again—Kitasan Black's escape! Duramente's pursuit!"
"Can she escape, Kitasan Black?!"
"Can she catch up, Duramente?!"
"Last 100 meters!"
---
Bonus chapters
200 - Stones
400 - Stones
600 - Stones
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