"Alright, let's kick it up a gear!"
I tore across the turf like a gale-force wind. My speed was the literal embodiment of the "fastest" title, and the students watching from the sidelines were paralyzed with awe. Is it really possible to move like that? If we study under her, could we reach that horizon, too? The environment I had built was doing its job—it was a silent invitation. The gate was open to anyone who truly desired it. All that mattered was their own resolve.
"Your cornering is a bit sloppy," I noted as I pulled up alongside a student. "I'll put together a specialized menu to fix that."
"Th-thank you so much!"
"And you," I turned to another. "Your pacing is too aggressive. You're a Lead-type; don't force yourself to the front so early. Use the pack. Think of them as your personal windbreakers."
"Easier said than done," the girl replied with a cheeky grin. "It's hard to find a good windbreaker when you're built like me—my chest and hips are just too big, you know?"
"So jealous…!!" the other students hissed in the background.
I was back on the track. Even as the Aggressor Chief, I didn't believe in just watching from the tower. While I left the bulk of the instruction to Sunday Silence, I made it a point to run with them occasionally. I wasn't going at full "Great Escape" speed, of course—I was using a "Phantom Pace" to weave through the group and check everyone's form.
"So… tell me," I said, looking at one particular girl. "How the hell have you not been scouted yet? Your form is nearly perfect. Seriously, what are the trainers in this school doing?"
"If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn't be here," she sighed. "Maybe it's just because my classmates are so… intense."
"I think you belong in that 'intense' category yourself, Bubble."
In the Nemesis team, there were several girls who made me question the scouting standards of the academy. Timing and luck play a role, sure, but Bubble Gum Fellow was an anomaly.
In history, Bubble Gum Fellow was one of the "Four Heavenly Kings" of Sunday Silence's 1996 crop. He was an elite colt, winning the Best Three-Year-Old Male award. Despite a fracture after the Spring Stakes that forced him to miss the Derby and sidelined him for six months, his frustration and hunger were forged into pure energy. He bypassed the Kikuka Sho to challenge the Tenno Sho (Autumn) against veteran horses—and won. He was the first three-year-old (old four-year-old) to win that race in 59 years, a feat that wouldn't be repeated often.
"Well, your generation is stacked," I admitted. "Air Groove is in your year, after all."
"I don't think that's it," Bubble replied. "She was scouted instantly and joined Canopus."
Bubble's year included titans like Air Groove, Fusaichi Concorde, Dance in the Dark, and Fight Gulliver. It was a golden age, which might explain why some talent fell through the cracks… but leaving a talent like Bubble Gum Fellow un-scouted was bordering on criminal.
"Well, show them what they're missing at the next mock race. If no one tries to sign you after that, every trainer in this building is legally blind."
"You don't mince words, do you?" she laughed.
"If they don't take you, I'll scout you myself," I said flatly.
"Wait—really?!"
"That's how much potential I see in you. Run with confidence."
I gave her a firm pat on the shoulder and walked off the turf. Behind me, I could sense Bubble trying to suppress a surge of pure joy, while her teammates either congratulated her or vowed not to let her outshine them. Despite the "hellish" reputation of Nemesis, the bond between these girls was strong. They had all looked into the abyss of being "unwanted," and it made them the most dedicated workers in the academy.
"Done already? How boring," a voice called out. "I was hoping you'd finally give me a real challenge."
"Give it a rest, Sunday. I'm not racing you today. If we went at it, the crowd of spectators would be so big it'd shut down the entire training session."
"Tch. True enough."
On a personal level, Sunday Silence was dying to have a serious match with me. She was one of the greatest to ever come out of America, a student of the legendary Secretariat—she had her own pride to protect. But as a professional, she knew she couldn't let her ego get in the way of the team's schedule.
"Anyway, why aren't you at the Tenno Sho?" Sunday asked. "Aren't you 'technically' a sub-trainer for Canopus?"
"Drop the 'technically.' And they have Sasada-chan as their primary sub-trainer, so they don't need me hovering."
"Ah, that average guy."
"That's incredibly rude…"
"It's an observation."
Today was the day of the Tenno Sho (Spring). Multiple girls from Canopus were on the roster, but I had stayed behind. Partly because I had administrative work as Chief, but mostly because I felt my presence wasn't required for them to win.
"So, who's your pick?" Sunday asked, leaning against the railing.
"Rice."
Sunday groaned. "I'm asking for a serious prediction. I know you dote on that little Rice-cake, but be professional."
"I am being serious," I said, my voice dropping an octave. "Rice will win."
My eyes didn't flicker. There wasn't a hint of doubt in my voice. This wasn't just a sister's bias; it was a trainer's conviction.
"She's taken your instruction to heart and used the Shinzan Irons to forge a spirit of pure steel," I continued. "Now that her body is finally catching up to her mental fortitude, Rice is developing the potential to stand on even footing with Teio."
"I won't deny that," Sunday admitted. "She's the type where the soul drags the body along. But that's a double-edged sword. She's the type to accidentally break her own limiters and go until she collapses."
That was Rice's greatest strength and her most dangerous weakness. It was why Sunday had designed a menu specifically to reinforce her physical frame—to build a "vessel" strong enough to hold her overflowing spirit. Combined with Canopus's focus on fundamentals, Rice had become something terrifying.
"The rest of the field is fast, though," Sunday noted. "We'll see if she can handle the pressure. Anyway, look at the time. You've got a meeting?"
"Yeah. Still pushing for the URA Finals. I'm heading out. Everything else is in your hands—I'll take you out for a GT-R dealership tour next time to make up for it."
"I'm holding you to that!" Sunday yelled after me.
Sunday watched me leave, a smirk on her face. She respected that I put in the work, even when it was the boring administrative stuff. She turned her attention to her phone, deciding to check the results of the Tenno Sho.
"Whoa… you have got to be kidding me."
The headlines were screaming.
THE BLACK STAYER: RICE SHOWER CONQUERS THE TENNO SHO (SPRING).
She hadn't just won; she had dominated. Mejiro MacQueen took second, Ikuno Dictus third, Tokai Teio fourth, and Machikane Tannhauser fifth. While the gap between second and fourth was a desperate scramble of necks and noses, Rice Shower had crossed the line four lengths ahead of MacQueen.
And the time… 3:15.7.
She had shattered the record of 3:17.5 set by Teio.
"Holy hell…" Sunday whispered to the empty track. "That little Rice-cake… she's turned into a monster."
(Note: Several years later, Mayano Top Gun would eventually lower this record further to 3:14.4, but for now, Rice Shower stood alone at the top of the world.)
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