As Daiwa Scarlet gasped in surprise, Vodka was deep in thought, brow furrowed.
Like her friend, she’d been pondering Trainer Yasui’s strategy for Kitasan Black in this race.
From her perspective, the junior Uma Musume’s strength lay in her explosive power and endurance at high speeds. But fine adjustments—like changing pace, cornering precisely, or breaking through congestion—were challenging for someone with her raw strength.
Thus, logically, the best choice for Kitasan would be front-running. Staying ahead from start to finish, controlling the rhythm, would maximize her chance of winning.
Vodka was intimately familiar with this tactic. After all, the rival standing beside her excelled at precisely that style, so it had become second nature to her, too.
Yet Yasui Makoto had clearly chosen a different strategy for Kitasan.
From the start through the midsection, Kitasan Black had steadily followed just behind the leading group, apparently intending to surge ahead at the final straight using her closing speed.
This was textbook stalking—Vodka was certain, as it was exactly her own specialty aside from mid-pack running.
But here was the issue: Kitasan’s late kick wasn’t outstanding, at least not compared to the other strong closers in this race.
So, if she was running a stalking race, how was she supposed to tackle the final straight…?
At this moment, Daiwa Scarlet’s startled cry interrupted Vodka’s thoughts.
Satono Gallant? The Uma Musume directly ahead of Kitasan?
Vodka paused. Why would Gallant matter now?
Then it hit her. Gallant’s positioning, her pacing since the start…
“Oh, I get it now!”
Vodka exclaimed in realization.
“Oi, oi—isn’t this tactic a little sneaky? But somehow… for someone honest and straightforward like Kitasan, it seems weirdly fitting?”
At this, Makoto—who’d been silently focused through his binoculars—turned briefly toward the two astonished Uma Musume.
“Sneaky…? Perhaps,” he said with a gentle smile, returning his gaze calmly to the track.
“It seems there’s no need for me to explain anything. You both truly live up to your reputations.”
Daiwa Scarlet and Vodka exchanged another glance, each clearly recognizing understanding and admiration in the other’s eyes.
Indeed, this high-speed race posed multiple disadvantages for Kitasan. There were ways around it—such as leading the whole race or relying on a powerful late kick from further back.
But they’d overlooked a crucial point while assessing the scenario through their own extensive racing experience:
This was only Kitasan’s second race, and she’d been specially training for only two months.
No matter how talented her trainer, systematic race experience wasn’t something achievable in just two races or two months.
But if no complicated explanations were required, then the plan became incredibly simple:
Kitasan didn’t need to agonize over how to respond to every scenario during the race.
At least, not before entering her acceleration phase.
Because among her opponents, there was someone who would handle those decisions perfectly.
All she had to do was focus on following that someone closely, then capitalize on her abundant stamina at precisely the right moment to overtake decisively.
And that someone, the ideal candidate for her to follow, was exactly whom Daiwa Scarlet had exclaimed about just moments ago—Satono Gallant.
—
Power flowed continuously into Kitasan’s legs, her senses instinctively judging the remaining distance as she inwardly marveled.
Trainer was right. This race… really is a lot faster than my debut.
And everyone’s stamina is draining quickly. The field must’ve spread out considerably.
Gallant-san really adapts fast, too. Judging by her breathing and stride… she still has plenty left in her.
But so do I.
In fact… even more.
Then… It’s time!
Just as she’d felt during her debut, a thrill ran through her body. Without hesitation, she shifted her weight forward, lowered her stance slightly, and pressed firmly against the track surface.
Simultaneously, the announcer’s voice faltered briefly before rising in excitement.
“The leaders have entered the third corner, with positions stable for now… Wait!”
“Kitasan Black is making her move!”
“A sudden burst of acceleration—she’s rapidly closing in on the leading group!”
“But we still have a full 600 meters remaining! Is it wise to accelerate this early?”
“No hesitation from Kitasan Black, who’s swiftly overtaking the runners ahead!”
“She clears the third corner—now into the fourth!”
“Saint Martin, Mini Souk, Crushing Raise, Battle Flag…”
“In less than 300 meters, Kitasan Black has passed four Uma Musume!”
“Kitasan Black is now in first place!”
“And she’s widening the gap—five horse-lengths now!”
“Unbelievable! Such extraordinary stamina—even after maintaining a fast pace!”
“Is she trying to carry this lead all the way to the finish?! Kitasan Black?!”
“The other competitors are reacting, desperately chasing her down!”
“Exiting the corner, only 300 meters left!”
“Satono Gallant is making her move as well!”
“She’s incredibly fast!”
“Just like Kitasan, Gallant overtook four competitors in quick succession!”
“What phenomenal late acceleration! She’s gaining steadily on Kitasan!”
“Now, only four horse-lengths separate them!”
“Now three lengths!”
“Onto the final straight!”
“200 meters!”
“The leaders are set! Kitasan Black maintains first place, with Satono Gallant chasing just two lengths behind!”
“Our winner will surely be one of these two!”
“Can Kitasan hold off this fierce pursuit?!”
“Or can Satono Gallant close the gap?!”
“100 meters!”
…
The track disappeared from Satono Gallant’s awareness. All she saw now was that figure in front of her—at once achingly close, yet impossibly distant.
She suppressed an instinctive urge to reach out and grasp that black-haired girl ahead. Right now, there was only fierce determination driving her to catch up—and deep regret flickering faintly in her heart.
I shouldn’t have hesitated then.
I shouldn’t have backed off at that critical moment…
How…?
It was only an instant…
So why…
Why can’t I catch her at all?!
“KITASAN BLACK—!!!”
Just as she roared desperately, Gallant’s vision suddenly blurred, and the black-haired girl vanished from view.
Gallant froze.
Momentum carried her forward several dozen meters, where suddenly deafening cheers from the stands and the announcer’s excited voice echoed clearly in her ears.
“By a quarter-length!”
“Kitasan Black claims victory by a quarter-length!”
“With spectacular momentum—her second consecutive victory… is secured!”
Stunned once more, Gallant felt her body seized by sudden exhaustion, panting heavily as she turned slowly.
The black-haired girl hadn’t disappeared. She’d simply slowed to a halt after crossing the finish line.
Gallant then heard a quiet, triumphant whisper from her:
“Hehehe, at least I didn’t trip this time…”
Immediately followed by an ecstatic shout:
“Hey—Trainer! Grandpa! Dad! Senpais! Everyone! Did you see that?! I did it—I won!!”
Trainer… and senpais…
Gallant felt her heart suddenly clench, turning toward the stands with drooping ears, breath labored and uneven.
I’m sorry, Trainer… Senpai…
I shouldn’t have hesitated back there…
Yet, almost instinctively, she clenched her fists, gazing intently once more at Kitasan’s joyous figure nearby, before quietly turning to leave the track.
Next time…
I won’t hesitate again.
—
T/N: oooh rival gained
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