The result of the Wakaba Stakes was Sakura Chiyono O's victory.
Super Creek fell just a neck behind, losing this race.
On the TV screen was a close-up of the short-haired, cherry-red girl. From her sweat-soaked appearance and heavy breathing, it was clear that she had given everything in this race and earned her victory.
Behind her was the brown-haired horse girl, also panting. For the first time, she showed such exhaustion and frustration in a race. For someone known for extraordinary stamina, this was almost unimaginable.
From the speakers came the commentator's passionate shouts.
"Though it was a close one, Sakura Chiyono O ultimately held onto that slight advantage!"
"Let's congratulate her!"
"Congratulations on her championship, and congratulations on securing 1 point for her team in the 'Eternity vs. Transcendence' showdown!"
Behind this voice were the chants of the audience. With a little effort, it was easy to distinguish that they were shouting "Sakura Chiyono O" and "Transcendence."
The commentators, the crowd, and all who followed the three matches of today had equated the horse girls' races with the clash of the two teams. It was not hard to understand—one exciting race was enough to stir the blood, and three in a row, each tied to team outcomes, turned anticipation into suspense, drew everyone's eyes, and magnified the excitement severalfold, almost into madness.
Compared to the frenzy on screen, those in front of it—Kitahara, Mejiro Ardan, Symboli Rudolf, Kyoko Miyamura, the Trancendence team and Maruzensky—all remained calm.
Not only had they already analyzed the situation of Chiyono O and Creek before the race, but from the very start, Kitahara, Rudolf, and Maruzensky had all voiced concern.
Super Creek hadn't recognized Chiyono O's tactic right away and followed her usual approach, guiding the pace of the others.
She accelerated once out of the gate, speeding up the tempo, making it look like both she and Chiyono O were leading.
But everyone here knew she wasn't aiming to lead—she just wanted to shift the pace to her preferred rhythm.
Against another opponent, this might have worked. Unfortunately, Sakura Chiyono O broke out with full force from the start, running an all-out escape without regard for the pace behind her. She only needed to keep fleeing to the end.
As a result, Creek wasted stamina early without altering the overall tempo. Chiyono O seized a subtle advantage, held it, and turned it into a decisive win.
Now, with the race fully over, Rudolf Symboli sighed over that hair's-breadth difference.
"The first two races ended almost the same way."
She looked to Kitahara, then to Ardan and Yaeno Muteki. "In the first, the Spring Stakes, Yaeno Muteki didn't realize Ardan's greatest strength—that even in fatigue, she could still execute tactics. That led to her narrow loss."
"Ardan was excellent, not only in her ability but also in her brilliant use of it."
Ardan twitched her lips, wanting to smile at the praise, but seeing the Hanshin track on screen and thinking of her teammate's narrow defeat, she only sighed silently, unable to feel joy.
Yaeno Muteki felt the same. Though Chiyono O had won, she herself had lost, leaving her caught between delight and frustration, unable to smile.
"And now, Hanshin too, all because Creek didn't pick up on her opponent's tactic, falling into a slight disadvantage."
Rudolf paused, then shook her head. "No… Creek did realize later, since she stopped trying to set the pace and instead accelerated earlier. But by then, it was too late."
"Regrettable, yes, but both gave their all. It was a splendid race."
"So then, Chief Kitahara, what are your thoughts on the last race, the Yayoi Sho?"
Kitahara hesitated.
He wanted to contact Creek, hear her feelings, talk with her. He remembered Oguri Cap's frustration after losing in training and knew how much it meant for horse girls to have someone with them when tasting defeat.
And this loss was especially cruel. She had failed to spot Chiyono O's tactic at first but later reacted, only to waste stamina and accelerate too late. To lose by just a neck was harder to accept than being soundly beaten.
But since Rudolf had asked about the last race, he couldn't ignore it. He also needed to consider whether to adjust Special Week's plan.
"So even President Rudolf now, like everyone else, is treating today's races as a full team showdown between us and Trancendence?"
He joked lightly.
"Ah, that's a fresh feeling."
Rudolf didn't deny it. Instead, she glanced nostalgically at Maruzensky, smiling. "It reminds me of when I, as a junior, raced against CB. The media also hyped our races as the 'Triple Crown Showdown.'"
"…Lucky Chiaki isn't here, or she'd be embarrassed."
Knowing the results of those races, Maruzensky smiled knowingly. "After all, in those so-called Triple Crown duels, she never won once…"
"Uh…" Rudolf twitched her mouth, pretending to laugh but only coughing awkwardly. Turning back to Kitahara, she pressed again.
"Ahem. Anyway, the last race—the Yayoi Sho—Chief Kitahara, what do you think? Or…"
She glanced at Yaeno, Yoshitaka, and Tadashi.
"Now that you know Trancendence's tactical setup, do you have no adjustments to make?"
Yaeno's ears perked up, and the two trainers also looked at Kitahara, eyes sharp.
They had realized it by now—Eternity's chief trainer was in no way inferior to Naise Fumino. If anything, his experience and adaptability surpassed hers.
His earlier analysis of Creek and Chiyono O's tactics matched Naise's conclusions exactly. Yet where she needed full prep and data, he offered the same insight instantly.
They didn't know the truth—that Kitahara drew not only on his experience but also knowledge of legendary races and tactics from another world's future. Only horse girls of Rudolf's caliber or trainers with extraordinary genius could match it.
And, meeting their expectant gazes, Kitahara thought, then shook his head firmly.
"I won't be making changes."
At their surprised looks, he said steadily: "Oguri Cap… just needs to run with everything she has. That's enough."
"Run with everything?" Rudolf's eyes lit up. "Chief Kitahara, you mean…"
"My meaning is simple."
He met the eyes of Yaeno, Yoshitaka, and Tadashi, then smiled faintly.
"Everyone says this is Eternity versus Trancendence? Then let's take it seriously."
"If they want a head-on clash, then let's finish with a true head-on clash."
"Dicta Striker intends to run this Yayoi Sho without overthinking, giving her all, right?"
"Well, that's exactly Oguri Cap's favorite, and strongest, running style."
"She won't lose."
His last words rang with conviction, leaving the others startled.
"Such strong confidence, Chief Kitahara…"
Rudolf nodded. "You must truly treasure your first horse girl."
She smiled. "Shouldn't you go to the waiting room and tell her this? Hearing you say so, she'll surely gain confidence."
Kitahara smiled too, but shook his head.
"For Oguri Cap… that's unnecessary."
"Unnecessary?" Rudolf and the others were surprised. Only Maruzensky, after initial shock, looked thoughtful and nodded slightly.
"Yes, unnecessary."
He confirmed, then walked toward the window. Looking past the stands and track to the waiting area beyond, he said softly:
"Oguri Cap knows how to run this race. Especially after hearing through the broadcast about the Spring and Wakaba Stakes results, she must understand what she needs to do."
His gaze was far-off, his tone half-explaining, half-murmuring to himself.
"She may seem airheaded, maybe a little absent-minded."
"But often, she's quick to notice—especially in races."
"She might not grasp exactly what happened in the earlier matches, but she'll know this is the final showdown after one win each."
"She'll know how she must run to win."
"And if that's so, me going to encourage or reassure her might only add pressure."
"So, she just needs to run with no distractions, with all her might."
As he voiced his faith, the Nakayama track soon sounded the entry call.
"Oh, it's my turn," Oguri Cap muttered, her ears twitching in the waiting room.
She was stretching, one long leg in black tights pressed to the wall, the other firmly on the ground, in a slanted splits. After a few sets, she lowered her leg and bounced in place.
"Good, perfect condition, hoo—"
Exhaling, she walked to the door. "Don't worry, everyone. I don't really get why this suddenly became some kind of showdown, but…"
"For the last race, I won't lose."
She'd heard through the broadcast that the first two races were split, making the Yayoi Sho the decider. She didn't know the details, but that was simple enough. No need to overthink—just give her all and win the last one.
Unaware that this was exactly what Kitahara had said earlier, she opened the door and froze.
Outside stood Dicta Striker, smiling casually.
"Yo, fired up, huh, Monster?"
She made a finger-gun, "pew!" aimed at Oguri Cap.
"Well? Think you can dodge this 'chestnut bullet' of mine?"
She had meant to stir her rival's fighting spirit with a joke, but was startled when Oguri Cap only tilted her head, puzzled.
"Why dodge?"
Her tone was natural, almost confused. "I don't know what bullet thing you mean, but if I dodged, wouldn't you pass me?"
"I won't dodge. Do whatever you like."
"No bullet will be faster than me, the Monster."
"Oh, and if you're not busy, I'll go first. I'm first favorite today, so I have to enter first."
"…Nothing else? Then I'll go. You'd better hurry too, or you'll hold up the race."
Just like that, her brief intensity vanished, replaced by her usual ditzy air. She tilted her head at Dicta Striker, thought she looked a bit stunned, then kindly reminded her before leaving.
…Tch. I knew she was an airhead, but still…
After a while, Dicta Striker finally turned, twitching at the corners of her mouth, pupils narrowed, glaring where Oguri Cap had gone.
Still makes me mad.
So what if you're first favorite? I've been first favorite too! Don't wait till I'm first favorite and you're second, you'll see then!
She'd wanted to provoke her rival, but instead only got herself frustrated. She fumed.
Just then, the waiting area announcement rang out.
"Where is Dicta Striker? It's your turn. If any horse girl or staff sees her, please guide her to the paddock. Thank you."
"…I know, I know! Quit yelling! I know the way!"
She stomped, grumbling at the ceiling speakers, then clicked her tongue and jogged off toward the parade ring.
Aside from this little scene, the Yayoi Sho proceeded normally.
Soon, with the commentator's voice, all the horse girls entered the gates one by one.
…After the earlier races, the turf was actually better. Yesterday's rain had made it muddy, but the repeated trampling packed it down, drying it more. So the conditions were close to "good ground."
Silently entering her own gate No. 3, Dicta Striker fell into thought. She laced her fingers together, rolling her wrists, then tapped the ground alternately with her toes, loosening her ankles.
The track was good, she was near the inner rail, her body in great condition… perfect.
She could absolutely—fight head-to-head!
As that thought passed, she tilted her head slightly toward the outermost stall, and froze.
She already knew Oguri Cap had drawn the far-outside gate No. 16. The announcer had even just called, "Please have Oguri Cap enter the gate from the outermost side."
But when she looked, the silver-gray long-haired horse girl wasn't in the gate yet. She stood a few strides away, her body visibly trembling.
Strangely enough, her trembling didn't look like fear—her expression was brimming with an odd excitement.
…This was… what was it called? That bracing shake?
After a moment's daze, Dicta Striker remembered something from reports. Oguri Cap, before every race, would shake like a warrior heading to battle, a ritual known as "warrior's brace."
She stopped recalling, for Oguri Cap had just exhaled sharply, lips moving slightly, then strode straight into the gate.
At the same time, the commentator's voice rang out right on cue.
"Oguri Cap has entered the gate from the outside! G2 Yayoi Sho, turf 2000 meters, now… it begins!"
"Start!"
The moment she heard the first half, Dicta Striker deliberately shut down her hearing, focusing her eyes forward and watching the gate with her peripheral vision.
It was a trick Naise Fumino had drilled into her.
Sound travels far slower than light. If you wait to hear the "start" call or the crash of the gates, you'll always react later than if you see the gates move.
React the instant your eyes see the gate spring—master this, and your start is faster by tenths of a second.
Never underestimate tenths of a second. Often the result of a race comes from such tiny margins, a victory carved out of these fractions.
Dicta Striker had long been used to this training. Her trainer, Konai Tadashi, was a man of few words but meticulous to the smallest detail—he could calculate her daily nutrition intake to three decimal places. She had long adapted to his ways.
And so she executed Fumino's tip flawlessly. Sure enough, she felt she sprang just a hair faster than the others around her.
Perfect start!
Next… the rail!
Using her fractional advantage, Dicta Striker cut straight inward, locking down the most energy-saving position.
This wasn't strategy—it was fundamentals.
Unless necessary, you always hug the rail. Any trained horse girl had it carved into their body as instinct.
So then—will you come for this spot, Oguri Cap?
If you do, I might just give you the chance. We can share this prime position, because…
Her eyes slid sideways toward the far outside. She felt her blood boiling.
I want to face you, this monster, fair and square—head-to-head!
Come on, Oguri Cap! Show me—can your monstrous power outmatch my bullet?
What—?!
You idiot… what are you doing?!
Her blood seemed to flow backward for a second, her pressure spiking. She wondered if she was seeing things.
Oguri Cap hadn't even glanced at the rail—she was running entirely outside!
From the start she never leaned inward. From the gate to now, her lane hadn't changed at all!
Are you stupid?!!
No one's boxing you in—why run outside?!!
Dicta Striker was dumbfounded, utterly unable to grasp Oguri Cap's thinking.
Nor was she alone. The commentators and audience all cried out.
"Wait, wait! Is this really the Yayoi Sho and not the Spring Stakes again? This looks exactly the same!"
"No, not exactly. This time Dicta Striker isn't blocking her like Yaeno Muteki did before. In fact, the space around her is open, as if the rail was left for Oguri Cap!"
"And with Oguri Cap's footwork, she should easily slip inside, but…"
"Whether she doesn't see it, or has her own plan, the fact is—she's holding steady outside!"
"Doesn't she realize the outer lane makes her run dozens of meters farther?!"
"Or is her confidence absolute—that she can still win even after running the extra distance?!"
The questions sparked gasps across the stands and in the viewing hall alike.
"What on earth is Oguri doing…?"
Mejiro Ardan frowned. "I'll admit her power is far above mine. She could make up dozens of meters with her final burst. But why ignore the chance for the rail?"
Yaeno Muteki muttered, "Could she simply not notice?"
She glanced at Dido. "I can guess her thinking. She's said it before—she wants a one-on-one showdown with Oguri Cap. Leaving the rail open is her way of avoiding a stamina advantage."
"But Oguri… she probably never noticed, or never cared."
"That's not it."
Belno Light cut in. Of all present, she knew Oguri best, and had raced alongside her. Taking a breath, she said:
"Oguri is too much of a genius. Not just her finishing kick, not just her stamina—she can grasp the whole race situation, moment by moment."
[Who the fuck is Shiny Symboli bro 😭😭]
"If Dicta Striker left her the rail, Oguri definitely sensed it."
"The ability to grasp the whole field?" Yaeno asked, startled. "You mean that blindfold training you did?" She knew Eternity's trained blindfolded to sharpen spatial awareness.
"No," Light shook her head. "Even before that training, Oguri alone already had it. The blindfold just honed it further."
"In any case," she pressed her lips, "Oguri… must have her own plan."
"She definitely has a plan to win!"
As the horse girls debated, Kitahara too was deep in thought. Beside him, Symboli Rudolf and Maruzensky murmured together.
"To ignore a better position, and just run her own race? Is that her thinking…?"
Rudolf stroked her chin, frowning. "But the difference between rail and outside is huge. Just 5 meters across the track adds dozens of meters in distance."
"Ardan and Muteki managed at 1800 meters, adjusting on the slope. But Oguri shows no sign of adjusting."
"It might not exhaust her, but still…"
At a loss, she turned to her friend. "Maruzensky, any ideas?"
"…Me? None at all."
Smiling candidly, Maruzensky narrowed her eyes, then shifted her gaze to Kitahara.
"Rather than us guessing, why not ask her trainer? Surely he knows."
At that, Rudolfs' eyes lit, and she looked to Kitahara.
"Chief Kitahara, your thoughts…?"
"…She wants to use the extra distance to manage her rhythm."
As the others spoke, Kitahara had already guessed Oguri's intent. She was his very first trainee; often, he didn't need words to know her.
"It's simple," he said to Rudolf, Maruzensky, and the curious others.
"Running inside does save stamina, yes. But it causes two disruptions."
"First, when you cut inside, you must adjust speed, posture, and stride. That disrupts rhythm."
"Second, when you burst from the rail to the outside, rhythm shifts again. The rail's tempo and the outer lane's tempo are completely different. Switching is a third rhythm altogether. It demands tremendous adaptability."
Ardan and Muteki exchanged looks and nodded. Ardan said gravely:
"Exactly. In my last duel with Muteki, I cut position repeatedly on the slopes. Each switch forced me to readjust."
"If I hadn't kept perfectly clear-headed, those switches could have wrecked my speed."
Muteki was quiet a moment. "Same here. I wasn't as smooth as Ardan."
"Exactly," Kitahara nodded. "Just as you warm up before a race, you also need to warm up before a sprint."
"Oguri may run dozens of meters more, but to her, that's nothing."
"By keeping her rhythm steady the whole way, her body fully adapts to race speed. By the final stretch, she'll already be warmed up for the sprint. Then she can unleash her terrifying finish instantly."
"And so, after the fourth curve, she'll go head-to-head with every opponent."
"…But," he added, eyes back on the screen, fixed on the silver-gray hair ahead, then the chestnut hair near the rail, "Dicta Striker will need to be ready to break from the rail."
"Otherwise, her sprint—and its peak—will come far later than Oguri's."
All eyes locked on the screen now.
"What a daring tactic…"
Rudolf murmured, then chuckled to herself. Seeing no one else laugh, she frowned, disappointed, then exhaled.
"Well then—let's watch. Monster versus Bullet, a clash of equals. Who will triumph?"
For horse girls, 2000 meters was just about two minutes. While the viewing hall speculated, the racers blazed past the third turn.
The commentator's pitch soared.
"They're reaching the fourth turn—the slope and final stretch!"
"And now, before and after the fourth turn—who will move first—wait! Both! At the same time! Oguri Cap and Dicta Striker make their moves together!"
"It's as if they agreed beforehand—one pouring out her tremendous outside power, the other hugging the rail, conserving until now. Which strategy will prevail? Can pure stamina hold out, or will careful pacing dominate? At last, we'll see!!"
"The slope! Both horse girls, one outside, one inside, charging uphill!"
"Oguri has the lane to herself, climbing unhindered! Dicta Striker weaves past a slowing rival, but stays close behind!"
"They're just two lengths apart—Oguri leading, Dicta trailing two! The slope's peak is here!"
"Now comes the brief straight at the top—then the thrilling downhill! Still two lengths apart, both with plenty in reserve. So then…"
"The final stretch—who will it be?!"
"Today's G1 Satsuki Sho trial, an unprecedented duel of two teams—who will prevail?!"