Night fell upon the Winner’s Concert stage.
As spotlights poured down like a river of stars, Kitasan Black’s eyelashes fluttered lightly against the brilliant glow.
Dry-ice mist from the stage rose gently over her ankles. She could hear the faint sound of Crushing Raise adjusting her breathing on one side, and the crisp chime of Unyielding True Steel’s metal anklets tapping softly against the platform on the other.
The massive screens that had earlier showcased the thrilling races now spread behind and above the stage, with a digital countdown suspended at the center.
When the glowing “3” pierced the darkness and greeted thousands of cheering fans waving their colorful penlights, Kitasan suddenly recalled the sensation at the finish line: the sharp wind whipped up by Crushing Raise’s sudden rush grazing the back of her neck, grass and mud kicked up by those powerful hooves splattering against her calves.
“Get ready,” came the director’s voice through her earpiece. Kitasan leaned forward slightly, lifting her arms.
Ahead on her left, Bright Emblem, and to the right, Clear Sky, smoothly raised their arms, and the other Uma Musume spread out gracefully behind them, settling into formation.
The opening notes of “Winning the Soul” flowed gently like water, prompting the waving of penlights and cheering fans to reach fever pitch.
As the main verse began, Kitasan spun elegantly, meeting Satono Crown’s gaze. Clearly reflected in her friend’s eyes were genuine congratulations—but also lingering embers of competitive fire.
With another graceful spin, her gaze landed upon Yasui Makoto in the very front of the audience—
—and the smiling senior Uma Musume around him, applauding warmly and offering encouraging thumbs-ups.
Until the final chorus peaked and rainbow-colored lights rained down from above, her gaze—or at least the corner of her eye—remained fixed in that direction.
Feeling Kitasan’s lingering gaze and applauding alongside the roaring wave of cheers, Tokai Teio chuckled softly.
“Kita-chan… She’s looking at us, you know.”
“Indeed,” Mejiro McQueen nodded lightly, briefly glancing at Teio. “Does it remind you of yourself back then, Teio?”
“Heh… You know, I hadn’t thought about that until you said it,” Teio laughed lightly, nodding as well. “Back then, Kita-chan would have been right where we are now, wouldn’t she?”
Their nostalgic exchange brought wistful smiles to the other senior Uma Musume around them.
Meanwhile, Yasui Makoto also smiled gently as he watched the black-haired girl bow gracefully at center stage. Yet his mind repeatedly replayed the moment the photo finish results appeared.
Of course, he had felt sheer elation upon learning Kitasan had won the Satsuki Sho.
But when he saw the official margin of victory, a strange sense of déjà vu hit him:
Six centimeters.
That was the exact margin by which Kitasan had won.
Just like in the Spring Stakes, this minuscule distance meant that even the slightest misstep would have cost her the victory.
It left Yasui with an inexplicable blend of relief and anxiety.
Kitasan’s performance today had been flawless—proof that their previous training strategies had unquestionably worked.
Yet, even a flawless performance didn’t guarantee victory.
A race wasn’t something achieved by one alone. While he and Kitasan had trained and grown stronger, their rivals had done the same.
Even without deeper analysis, experience and instinct told him that today’s opponents were far stronger than previous data suggested.
Most concerning was Crushing Raise—who’d nearly overtaken Kitasan. Shockingly, she’d already touched upon the [Zone] at only the start of her Classic year.
Yasui had overheard Tokai Teio and the others discussing it, and he was familiar with the concept.
In sports science, the [Zone] was a specialized field of research.
As an extreme athlete himself, Yasui was particularly aware of this phenomenon.
In theory, the [Zone] drew from psychology’s concept of “Flow”:
A state of complete immersion, where an athlete experiences peak performance, characterized by intense focus, loss of self-consciousness, distorted time perception, and seamless alignment of action and thought.
Physiologically, this corresponded to suppressed prefrontal cortex activity, reduced default-mode network engagement, elevated dopamine and norepinephrine, and unique brain-wave synchronization.
Athletes in this state gained heightened perception and control, dramatically improving safety and success rates—especially in high-risk extreme sports.
Yet, entering or mastering this [Zone] demanded exceptional talent, rigorous training, and extensive experience.
Only world-class extreme athletes consistently achieved it; Yasui himself had only briefly touched this state a few times.
The Uma Musume world was no different.
Legendary names like Tokai Teio and Mejiro McQueen had undoubtedly entered the [Zone]—yet their first experiences had all occurred after their Classic years.
For example, the two former Student Council Presidents first entered the [Zone] during their Older Horse years—McQueen at the Spring Tenno Sho, and Teio at the Japan Cup.
Special Week first experienced it at the Japan Cup, Silence Suzuka during the Mainichi Okan, Gold Ship at the Takarazuka Kinen. Daiwa Scarlet and Vodka were earlier, but even they were past their Classic years.
Of course, there were exceptions: Oguri Cap, for instance, had repeatedly touched the [Zone] in her epic duels with Tamamo Cross and fully realized it during their final Arima Kinen showdown.
But for Crushing Raise to enter it as early as the Satsuki Sho was extraordinarily rare.
Given there’s still the Japanese Derby and Kikuka Sho ahead—and older races beyond—should I try helping Kita-chan experience the [Zone]?
Yasui rubbed his temples.
No matter the world, research on the [Zone] was incomplete and imprecise. No proven methodology existed, much less a training manual.
How could anyone design specific training around such an intangible concept?
But after a brief headache, his mood eased.
Lacking concrete methods or theories didn’t mean no path existed—nor did it make the [Zone] mandatory.
Ultimately, the [Zone] was an interplay of talent, experience, and rigorous training. Crushing Raise might currently display greater innate talent, but Kitasan was certainly not far behind.
Moreover, Yasui had long understood Kitasan’s development would be slower yet more potent in the long run, giving her ample opportunity to reach the [Zone].
Since that was the case, there was no need to rush.
Most importantly, Kitasan’s Satsuki Sho victory validated their current training regimen—so long as they persisted, unnecessary worries would only hinder their progress.
With that realization, Yasui felt his spirits lift.
Just as he was about to enthusiastically join the crowd shouting for “one more song,” his phone buzzed gently in his pocket.
Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen, brows furrowing in surprise before quietly stepping toward a secluded area behind the stands.
Moments later…
“…Wait, what do you mean ‘snuck in’?”
“…She insists she’ll only talk if she sees me in person?”
“…Alright, I’ll be there shortly—Administration Hall, right?”
—
This is a fan translation of 赛马娘：从被撞飞十米开始 by 百升飞上天 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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