Chapter 282: Orf, You're Even Running Diagonally in a practice race?
Even though this was just a practice race, Kitasan Black had already fully entered the mindset of a real competition.
Her vision wavered slightly through the blur of sweat. The sound of her own breathing roared in her ears like crashing waves trapped inside a conch shell.
The arcs of the final two turns rapidly expanded in her sight, and the texture of the turf seemed to transform into countless blades slicing through the air.
This was not a track she was familiar with.
The turns on the Gold family training ground were nearly half as narrow as those on official racecourses—each apex felt like a deliberately compressed trap.
In the previous eight turns, she had tried to apply her usual techniques, but the moment her hooves touched the ground, she felt her balance begin to slip.
The angle of contact on the inside was too tight—far tighter than anything she had experienced in races or training before.
More importantly, she had grown used to the slight incline found on official tracks—using that slope to counteract centrifugal force through the turns.
But this track was completely flat.
Too flat.
She had no choice but to rely purely on her physical strength and endurance to fight against the centrifugal force.
In a situation like this, there was no time to think about the optimal running technique.
She made a split-second decision—
For these final two turns, she would rely entirely on inertia.
The moment she committed, inertia pushed her outward toward the edge of the turn.
In her vision, a golden ponytail flashed past.
Her pupils contracted slightly.
The next instant, a golden figure had already overtaken her.
Her heart tightened for a moment—but she knew this overtake had been expected.
From her earlier perception while leading, Orfevre's position had been like a precisely placed scalpel.
This veteran runner had maintained a half-body distance the entire time, lurking within her blind spot.
The moment Kitasan Black leaned outward under inertia while entering the turn—that was the opening.
Like a bolt of golden lightning, Orfevre cut into the inside line and surged past.
As expected of Orf-senpai… even setting aside her familiarity with the track, that timing… it's textbook-perfect…
She silently praised her for a brief moment, but then her heart tightened again.
Almost the exact same maneuver—another Umamusume overtook her.
It was Nakayama Festa.
One of Festa's feet left the ground entirely, most of her body leaning beyond the edge of the track, her hair nearly brushing Kitasan Black's face.
Kitasan Black could feel every vibration of her muscles—Festa was forcibly compressing the overtaking space using centrifugal force to carve out a tighter line.
There was no time to marvel this time.
The final turn suddenly closed in beneath her feet like a tightening noose.
Instinctively lowering her center of gravity, she then heard a heavy yet explosive set of footsteps erupt behind her.
She knew that sound well.
Not just from repeated training runs and practice races—but from two months ago, during the Arima Kinen, in the stretch from the final turn to the finish line.
Gold Ship.
Like a silver-white beast, this veteran runner body surged forward like an unstoppable bulldozer. The airflow she generated nearly lifted Kitasan Black off her feet.
Kitasan Black instinctively glanced sideways and noticed that Gold Ship had already reached the kind of speed that only comes after a long-distance acceleration. Her eyes, fixed straight ahead, burned with obsession and desire for victory.
Orf-senpai… Festa-senpai… and now… Gold Ship-senpai…
No—I have to hold my rhythm!
There's still a bit of final straight left!
Her thoughts raced.
At the very moment before entering the final straight, Kitasan Black clenched her teeth and made a decision—
She abandoned her usual finishing sprint technique.
The straight here was too short.
Instead, she adopted a diagonal acceleration similar to cornering—tilting her body to the left, using the outer lane's buffer to offset some centrifugal force, while channeling all her power into her hind legs.
This improvised running style gave her a sudden burst of speed, but it only allowed her to keep pace with Gold Ship.
Ahead of them—Orfevre… seemed to have launched her final attack.
The overwhelming closing kick erupted in full force—Orfevre's golden figure turned into a streak of light.
Kitasan Black could see the veins bulging along Orfevre's neck, could hear the suppressed roar in her throat.
At the same time, Nakayama Festa and Gold Ship surged forward together.
Nakayama Festa tried to cut in along the inside line from one side, while Gold Ship closed in from behind, forming a pincer.
Together with Orfevre, the three of them wove their breaths into a suffocating net in the air.
But Kitasan Black did not give up.
She released the fists she had clenched moments ago, letting her body stretch naturally—like throwing herself into the eye of a hurricane.
The turf rushed past her vision at high speed. The sting of the wind slicing her skin transformed into a strange kind of exhilaration.
She could almost feel the gust from Gold Ship's tail brushing past her nose, and her vision was filled with dirt and grass kicked up from ahead.
And yet—
"Finish!"
"Nakayama Festa—first!"
"Orfevre—second!"
"Gold Ship—third!"
Takatoshi Imanami's voice carried through the wind.
Kitasan Black froze for a split second, but she didn't stop.
She clenched her teeth, held her breath, and sprinted with everything she had.
A moment later—
"Kitasan Black—fourth!"
The tension in her body suddenly released. She slowed down out of habit, transitioning into a jog, sweat mixed with bits of grass dripping from her chin. With a hint of regret, she wiped her cheek.
"Fifth is Dream Journey, sixth is Stay Gold, and last…"
Imanami's aged yet powerful voice continued, now filled with encouragement:
"Lilac, keep working hard in the future."
A breathless Kansai-accented reply came from behind Kitasan Black:
"Haa… haa… yes! I… I'll keep trying my best!"
Without turning around, Kitasan Black knew that it was Lucky Lilac, her voice filled with stubborn determination and unwillingness to accept defeat.
Moments later, teasing and bickering broke out ahead.
"Seriously, Orf? You couldn't beat Festa? You were even running diagonally in a race like this?"
Even after such intense exertion, Gold Ship's unmistakable, carefree tone carried clearly—her words full of playful mockery toward Orfevre.
"…Shut it. With so many sharp turns on this track, you call that running diagonally? I was cutting the corners, alright?!"
Orfevre shot back, slightly out of breath but no less forceful, clearly annoyed by Gold Ship's teasing.
Listening to their argument, Kitasan Black couldn't help but smile faintly.
Even though she had lost this practice race, competing at full strength against her familiar senpai on this unfamiliar track made her blood still boil with excitement.
Unconsciously, she looked toward her trainer, Makoto, who was talking with Imanami.
Sensing her gaze, he nodded and smiled, exchanged a few more words with Imanami, then walked over.
"Even though you lost…" Makoto said gently as he handed her a towel, "your adaptation at the end was really good. If the straight had been a bit longer… you might've won."