Only about twenty seconds had passed since the gates opened, yet the Satsuki Sho had already seen several dramatic shifts.
First came the explosive start, followed by fierce positioning battles.
Then, the struggle uphill among Kitasan Black, Clear Sky, and Azulita, resulting in Kitasan briefly pulling ahead—until Clear Sky's rapid charge overtook her again.
Such intense competition at the front visibly quickened the overall pace, stretching the field out noticeably.
As Clear Sky approached the first turn, the Uma Musume at the tail end were still crossing the midpoint of the initial straightaway.
Both commentators and spectators were thrilled by the fierce contest. Standing near the straightaway, Yasui Makoto had already regained composure after his initial excitement.
"So it's Clear Sky? Did she suddenly change her running style…?"
Though the crowd's cheers and commentary filled the air, the nearby Uma Musume clearly heard Yasui muttering to himself.
Daiwa Scarlet instantly reacted.
"Change her running style…? You mean Clear Sky doesn't normally front-run? No wonder her breathing, stride rhythm, and pacing seem off for a regular front-runner."
Silence Suzuka's thoughtful voice came from Special Week's phone.
"Mm…also, this pace is too fast for a front-runner. If it were me, I'd probably consider this tempo only when entering mid-race."
Undoubtedly, Suzuka and Scarlet knew front-running best. Yasui and the others, hearing their analysis, quickly understood—and shifted their attention to another issue.
"But such aggressive running…this isn't good news for Kita-chan," Tokai Teio said, crossing her arms tightly, brows furrowed. "If she gets drawn into Clear Sky's rhythm, her pace and stamina management later could suffer. Is Kita-chan…going to be okay?"
All eyes turned toward Yasui.
Tokai Teio's concern was justified; she herself had experienced something similar. Of the mere three races in her career she'd failed to win, the Tenno Sho (Autumn) had been precisely due to being disrupted by another front-runner's overly aggressive pace.
Yet Yasui wasn't worried about Kitasan experiencing a similar fate.
His Uma Musume was a natural front-runner herself, and the current situation fell entirely within their expectations.
Unlike Azulita, Clear Sky had never previously run as a front-runner. She'd always raced as a stalker or mid-pack runner.
Her closest experience had been in the Yayoi Sho, where her passing positions were consistently fourth throughout—still clearly a stalker's position.
Such an abrupt shift in running style suggested either her trainer's strategic gamble or Clear Sky's impulsive reaction due to anxiety.
Changing running styles mid-race carried inherent risk, but could also disrupt rivals and secure surprise victories.
Yet regardless of her motivation, Clear Sky lacked dedicated front-running experience. That was a distinct advantage for Kitasan.
More importantly, they'd specifically prepared tactics for precisely this scenario during their special training for the Satsuki Sho.
Just as Yasui opened his mouth to reassure Teio and the others, sudden movement erupted on the track.
---
Kitasan Black kept her eyes locked forward, sharply noting the sweat droplets sparkling at the back of Clear Sky's neck in the sunlight, and the rapidly approaching turn.
Though alarm had briefly shot through her when Clear Sky overtook, she swiftly calmed herself.
Clear Sky's desperate burst on the straightaway had indeed surprised her—but fierce competition for the lead had been exactly what Yasui warned her about before the race.
Nor was it Kitasan's first experience with such a scenario—she'd faced similar struggles in previous races and repeatedly trained for this exact situation with her senpais.
Just follow instructions and keep running as we practiced. There's definitely a chance to retake the lead.
Wait a bit longer…not yet…not yet…
Repeating the advice inwardly, her eyes suddenly sharpened.
Grass and dirt kicked up from ahead struck her face; their bitter scent lingered at her nose. Within her flattened ears, roaring waves echoed—
Cheers from the grandstand.
Rapid, drumbeat-like footsteps from front and back.
Wind rushing fiercely past.
And the rhythm of her own heartbeat pounding in her chest, synchronized precisely to the approaching turn.
Ba-thump…Ba-thump…Ba-thump…
Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump…
Ba-thump! Ba-thump! Ba-thump!
Now!
[Gradient Acceleration]—First Phase!
Just as her heart seemed ready to leap into her throat, Kitasan unclenched her tightly gritted teeth, changing her breathing and stride simultaneously.
As the curve unfolded before her, her right foot stepped precisely forward, sinking into freshly upturned turf.
Stored momentum released in an instant—from legs, through waist and chest, to her arms.
Leaning slightly leftward into the curve's centrifugal force, she allowed airflow to smoothly split around her body and merge again behind.
Her stride length, perfected through countless repetitions in training, now displayed flawless precision, carrying her easily over her opponent's footprints.
In the blink of an eye, after just the initial step of gradient acceleration, she felt her fingertips nearly brush through Clear Sky's fluttering hair.
Her peripheral vision likely caught her rival's startled gaze—but she ignored it entirely.
Gradient acceleration demanded continuous execution; otherwise, it was pointless.
She stared resolutely forward, straining every fiber of muscle to maintain control.
Second Phase!
The instant she felt herself enter the midpoint of the curve, a distant, buzzing gasp echoed from the grandstands.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Clear Sky momentarily carried outward by the curve's centrifugal force. Seizing the chance, Kitasan abruptly tucked in her shoulders, cutting into the now-open inside lane like a marlin piercing ocean waves.
Grass exploded upward behind her, vibrant as emerald sea spray. Sweat trickled down her temple; her face burned as if bathed directly in sunlight.
The wind pressure from her rival, so oppressive at the curve's entrance, silently faded behind her.
Third Phase—Now!
As the track straightened again, Kitasan tightened her jaw just as fiercely as she had entering the curve. With explosive power, she surged into the straightaway.
Only after a full second did her senses reconnect fully to her surroundings.
Three or four horse-lengths behind, footsteps had begun to falter.
Further back, opponents still fought centrifugal force on the turn.
And beyond them, the commentator's voice and crowd's cheers reached a fever pitch:
"She retakes the lead! Kitasan Black has reclaimed the lead!" the commentator's voice broke from sheer excitement.
"Refusing to yield! After being overtaken earlier, Kitasan Black executed an incredible counterattack through the corner!"
"Once again, Kitasan Black leads—by four horse-lengths!"