Hachiman's POV
"…We've finally made it this far, Rice."
"Y-yes…!" Rice replied, her voice small but steady.
"There's no turning back now. We've done everything we set out to do. All that's left is the real thing."
Rice looked down at her hands, her expression clouding slightly. "Bourbon-san was incredible at the Spring Stakes, wasn't she? It was a total landslide victory…"
It was now the end of March. Just days ago, Mihono Bourbon had dominated the Spring Stakes, crossing the finish line with a staggering seven-length lead over the runner-up. I hadn't expected her to pull away like that. It was outside my calculations—I didn't think she was capable of that level of performance yet. Kuronuma's "Hard Training" regime was clearly bearing fruit.
Rice had won her own trial race, the Yayoi Sho, just as convincingly, also clocking a seven-length victory. Normally, that would have filled me with absolute confidence, but seeing Bourbon's performance had effectively erased that peace of mind.
"You know this already, Rice, but Bourbon was originally considered a short-distance specialist," I said, looking over the data. "Now, she's winning 1800m graded stakes by massive margins. It's safe to assume she has more than enough stamina to handle the 2000m at the Satsuki Sho with ease."
Rice looked up at me, searching my face. "So… we have to figure out how to actually fight her, right?"
"In terms of raw stamina, you still have the edge," I explained, pointing to the charts. "But Bourbon has two terrifying weapons: her 'Front-runner' style and her machine-like precision with pace."
"Pace?"
"Bourbon's lead isn't just fast—it's consistent. She runs her 200m laps at almost exactly twelve seconds, sometimes dipping into the low elevens. And she's done that in every single one of her races. It's robotic."
Rice's eyes widened. "In… every race?"
"Yeah. To beat her, you usually have to break that rhythm. But for a 'Forward-position' runner like you, that's a tall order. Usually, you'd hope for another front-runner to pressure her and force a mistake, but…"
"Wait, if she's running 1000m in sixty seconds, couldn't I just pick up the pace a little and overtake her? Wouldn't that increase my chances?"
"If it were that easy, everyone would do it," I sighed. "Because she's so consistent, she forces everyone else to run her race. Even with your stamina, you'd be forced to burn it just to match her baseline. If you were the one setting the pace, it would be a different story, but you haven't been trained to clock laps like a metronome. If we want to win, the best bet would be to 'mark' her—stay right on her heels. But that creates a problem with your running style."
"I'd have to run as a front-runner too, wouldn't I?" Rice asked.
"Exactly. You wouldn't be able to conserve energy for a final burst. It increases your odds, sure, but it's a risky gamble. It's not your natural way of moving."
Rice was quiet for a moment, then she looked me straight in the eye.
"Big Brother… I want to face her head-on. No tricks. I've run the 2000m at Nakayama twice now. In terms of experience on this track, I'm ahead. I won't let Bourbon-san's pace rattle me. I want to win by running my race."
No petty schemes, just a clash of pure ability, huh? I looked at her determined face and felt a smirk tugging at my lips. Maybe that's the right call after all.
"Alright. Then we stick to the plan. Rice, we're going into the Satsuki Sho exactly the same way we handled the Hopeful and the Yayoi Sho. Depending on how far ahead Bourbon gets, just make sure you're in position to start your spurt smoothly before the final turn."
"Right! I understand!"
"Meeting adjourned, then. Phew… Sorry about that. I did all that talking just to end up with the same strategy we always use."
"No, don't say that!" Rice smiled warmly. "Knowing that you're putting everything you've got into thinking about this for me… it makes me really happy."
"…Thanks."
Seriously, what a good kid.
"Oh, that's right, Big Brother! About that thing you asked me to look into… I did some digging on my own."
"Oh? Find anything?"
"Mhm. It seems like our chat in the cafeteria started it. Everyone is talking about how your training feels like playing games. I think that's the main reason people are interested."
"I knew it…" I muttered, rubbing my temples.
"I asked some of my friends, and they all said the same thing. They think it sounds fun."
"Mr. CB is already crashing my sessions. If the numbers keep growing, it's going to become a real headache. I need to handle this before it turns into a scandal."
I'm responsible for Rice. Taking on Mr. CB—who isn't even in my stable—is already pushing it. If I start looking after a whole crowd of unassigned girls, it'll look like I'm poaching or neglecting my actual duties. It's a mess waiting to happen.
"Being a trainer is really hard work, isn't it?" Rice said softly, looking at me with concern.
"I only have myself to blame for letting CB hang around. Should I have said no from the start? No… if I hadn't, you might not have grown this much. Sigh. Damned if I do, damned if I don't."
Rice reached out, gently touching my sleeve. "If there's anything I can do to help, please tell me. If it's for your sake, Big Brother, I'll do anything!"
(A stray thought, or perhaps a voice from the heavens, echoed: "Good lord, this girl… what an angel! I'm actually tearing up over here! (T ^ T)")
…I thought I heard something weird just now, but I'll ignore it. The only thing I know for sure is that Rice is way too good for this world.
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