Acceleration
The white swan glided across the racetrack, bright flowers blooming in her wake. One step, two steps, until the fine sand carried by the wind brushed against her wings.
The weather shifted abruptly, and strange phenomena multiplied.
The ice surface she had painstakingly constructed shattered, swallowed by the cataclysm. The stinging pain against her skin felt all too real.
This was not the will of the Umamusume, but the racetrack itself testing the runners.
Little Cocon had thought securing the lead would shield her from the dirt's effects, but the reality proved far more complex than she imagined.
Her breathing fractured, the sand invading her lungs disrupted her rhythm. Her gait faltered, utterly unlike that of a seasoned runner.
Kousei watched the scene unfold, the memory of that rainy day still vivid in her mind.
She stole a glance at McQueen. They hadn't raced together since that day, and a burning desire smoldered in Kousei's chest.
I really want to race you again, under equal conditions.
She silently withdrew her gaze, nurturing this quiet longing in her heart. The loss of her rival status lingered, and she wondered when she might reclaim it.
"To escape the dust, you must leave Urara. To leave Urara, you must escape the dust's influence. Is this a closed loop?"
Little Cocon grew increasingly anxious. With strength still remaining, she was unable to break free, like a butterfly caught in a spider's web, being devoured step by step.
Part of the so-called "Gate" mimicked the forces of nature, designed to restrict opponents. Though not physically present, Kousei could confidently assert that even with equal adaptability, she would inevitably defeat Little in a direct confrontation.
This was a sandstorm eroding the mountain rocks, trapping an elegant white swan who could barely move.
As she struggled, a melodious voice suddenly arose from the valley:
"Standing on the land of Gentle Spring and Rising Sun~ Still bringing up the rear today~ It's still not working out~
Looking up at the vast sky~ Sigh
But! I'm Urara, the undaunted!
Marching onward along the path I believe in~ Spring will surely come someday~"
A song suddenly filled the arena, but it wasn't from the supporters.
Who was singing the song of spring?
Urara.
"Everyone often sings this song to encourage me, so you can't give up, Little!"
Little Cocon stared at Urara in surprise. Is she cheering me on?
Upon closer inspection, Little Cocon noticed new, bright red scratches on Urara's body. Combined with the existing bandages, Urara looked utterly battered.
A flower born in the cracks of the earth could never truly adapt; it was simply that wildflowers were more resilient.
And Little wasn't the only one trapped.
What is this?! What's with this girl?!
This is infuriating!
For some reason, an inexplicable anger surged through Little Cocon's heart. She stomped down hard on the loose soil, compacting it, and pushed through the burning sensation in her lungs, accelerating even faster.
Her body bucked with each stride, but only one thought occupied her mind:
Escape from Urara.
Kashimoto Riko's frown deepened. "Why is Little so agitated?"
Even if she couldn't use her gliding-like running style, she shouldn't be charging forward so recklessly. This reckless rush would only worsen her situation.
A sinister glint flickered in Little Cocon's round eyes as the sand pelting her body made breathing increasingly difficult. Yet she showed no sign of slowing down, instead pushing her speed up another notch.
After her earlier sluggish pace, Little Cocon's sudden burst of speed was dazzling.
Could it be?! Was Little Cocon holding back all this time? The audience couldn't help but wonder.
But anyone with a discerning eye could see this wasn't hidden potential; it was a desperate surge of energy.
"Little Cocon's accelerating! Urara has to keep up!"
Urara, oblivious to strategy or timing, simply ran whenever she felt like it, like a child chasing after friends, running freely without restraint.
A true embodiment of unrestrained instinct, she stood in stark contrast to Kashimoto Riko's disciplined approach.
"Go, Urara!"
"Overtake her, Urara!"
"We believe in you!"
The cheers rose in waves, one after another.
Kousei and the others turned in confusion, astonished to see the crowd spontaneously cheering for Urara.
"What's happening?" Kousei's bewilderment was the deepest among them.
"Everyone's cheering for her."
Umamusume are beings who can transform cheers and prayers into power, so Little Cocon naturally heard the fervent encouragement.
"It's alright. I've already decided to fulfill Trainer's wish. I've made my choice!" With renewed determination, Little Cocon resolved: "Then I'll force my way across the finish line with sheer willpower!"
Just a Way watched intently, her expression grave. She understood the meaning behind Little Cocon's resolute gaze.
It resembled Kousei's brilliance, Narita Brian's indomitable spirit, and Little Cocon's unwavering resolve in that moment.
Umamusume are, after all, the embodiment of emotional momentum.
When the Three Goddesses bestowed Innate Talent upon them, they seemed to have etched this very essence into their very being.
"For the sake of someone precious, I'll disregard everything!"
"I'll fulfill the Trainer's dream!"
Her eyes transformed into glacial rivers, freezing the sand mid-air into glittering ice crystals.
Ready now, the ice dancer glided once more. Even on the uneven icy terrain, Little Cocon moved with effortless grace, her angle into the turn flawless.
Untainted by worldly concerns, she gracefully withdrew.
Has Little Cocon become immune to the track conditions?
The answer was no. While Little Cocon had used her superior technique to create distance between herself and Urara, her lead wasn't decisive.
On a normal track, she would have already surged ahead. But here, she was relying on her remarkable endurance to keep her body functioning. Her proud, gliding running form couldn't possibly last the entire race; she was bound to break down somewhere.
After that, she would have to rely solely on willpower to drag herself forward.
Like a desperate escape tactic, the key lay in whether she could extend her lead on the Final Straight enough to cross the finish line first.
Late-Surger Runners were known as "Assassins," and the final leg was their specialty.
Little Cocon ran ahead, her lead clear but her expression showed no ease.
"I know! She's still there!"
Four horse lengths behind, Urara pursued relentlessly. There was no panic in her eyes, only overflowing excitement.
She won't last much longer. Her performance will start to drop, and this distance isn't enough! She'll definitely be caught on the Final Straight!
The grim prospect of defeat flashed through Little Cocon's mind. If she couldn't extend her lead even in this state, there was no point in even considering what would happen later.
"Are we going to lose?" Little Cocon asked, her small, round eyes burning with frustration. "Why would we lose?! I've been giving it my all, only to lose to someone who treats this crucial race like a child's game! I hate people like that the most!"
Little Cocon couldn't understand why she had been inexplicably agitated since the beginning.
"That's not it, Little," Just a Way said, her expression somber, her eyes flickering. "Urara is more earnest than anyone else. Her desire to be number one, to become a hero, isn't just empty talk."
The more she tries to escape, the more she yearns, the more she feels ashamed.
"I told you! Don't give up, Little!"
"Huh?"
It was Urara's voice. Though they were still four horse lengths apart, Little Cocon heard her voice as clearly as if she were right beside her.
"If you give up, you'll lose everything! Little is really strong, so don't give up so easily!"
Little Cocon froze, not turning to look at Urara. For a moment, she wondered if she was hallucinating.
The cheers for Urara still rang out, the surroundings clamorous.
But she was cheering for Little Cocon.
A sharp crack, shattering.
Little Cocon tilted her head back, forcing a ragged breath from her lungs. The dancer's grace had shattered; now she was purely a runner.
"The race isn't over yet!"
It was precisely because she knew the outcome that she hesitated. When had a race ever been decided before crossing the finish line?
"Come on! Let's settle this!"
Her stride was rough and chaotic, fueled by sheer desperation.
"I'm going all out!"
[Super-Duper Climax!]
Like a wild horse breaking free of its reins, she never questioned why—only that she must run.
Until she crossed the finish line, she would never stop running.
The tiny flower burst free of its constraints, growing wildly toward the spring sun. For everyone's sake, carrying their hopes, Haru Urara sprinted with all her might.
Three...
Two...
One...
Closer and closer—was she going to win?
Just before the finish line, Little Cocon surged ahead by half a horse's length, crossing first. Urara had not won the race.
Urara seemed momentarily stunned, but a moment later, a smile blossomed on her face.
"I lost! What a shame~"
Despite losing the race, Urara still waved enthusiastically at the crowd.
"Everyone—!! Thank you!"
After a brief, silent exchange of glances, the crowd erupted with cheers.
"Well done, Urara!"
"You ran so well!"
"Run again! You'll definitely win next time!"
Even though she had lost, the racetrack was filled with praise for the underdog. It became clear that winning wasn't everything; some people came simply because they loved racing.
On the other side, Little Cocon, the winner, looked somewhat forlorn. She had won, but she huddled in a forgotten corner, as if she were the loser.
"Hmm?"
A pair of warm hands cupped Little Cocon's hand—it was Haru Urara.
"Wh... what do you want?"
"Hehe~"
Urara grinned mischievously, grabbed Little Cocon's hand, and began running around the track.
"D-dummy! Slow down!"
The crowd watched in astonishment as the winner was being paraded around by the loser.
Urara pulled Little Cocon along, waving to the crowd as she went.
One leading the other, the two figures gradually revealed themselves to the world.
Neither the victor, nor the vanquished.
Clap!
A single, crisp clap rang out like a signal. Soon, applause cascaded through the racetrack, filling the air with thunderous acclaim. No one spoke; the applause alone conveyed every sentiment.
Before the crowd, amidst the deafening applause, Little Cocon lowered her head.
"I... I hate you the most."
As winter melts away, the embers of spring ignite.