The roar of the commentators and the cheers from the stands came in waves, completely drowning out the thunderous pounding of hooves on the track. Yet, the filly running at the very front—Oguri Cap—hardly felt any of it.
At that moment, it was as though she had lost the ability to perceive the racecourse as a whole. In her eyes and in her heart, there was only the finish line—at once impossibly far and unbearably close.
Far, because she could still feel how much energy she had burned after climbing the slope with everything she had, her body now straining past its limits.
Her legs from the waist down felt as heavy as if they had been filled with lead, giving her the illusion that she could no longer lift them at all.
Or perhaps magnets had been buried in the ground, and the steel shoes on her hooves were being pulled toward them. If not for her desperate drive to keep moving her legs, her shoes might really have stuck there forever.
Her waist and everything above it ached terribly as well.
Something seemed lodged in her spine, or else a band had been secretly wrapped around her midsection—every twist and every motion came with a sensation of blocked, unyielding resistance.
What her lungs drew in no longer seemed like air, but flames, scorching every alveolus until they shrieked and cried for relief.
Her arms hardly wanted to swing Ganymore. If not for the ingrained instinct forged by countless hours of training, she would have let them dangle at her sides.
More than that, she wanted to collapse altogether, close her eyes, forget about running, and simply lie down on soft grass, let the breeze brush her cheek, and fall into a quiet, blissful sleep.
But the finish line, impossibly close ahead, would not allow it.
It did not have magnetism but something even stronger, as if enchanted—a pull so great that her eyes could not look away, her jaw clenched, and every fiber of her being ached to reach it, to pass through it.
What would happen when she reached it? What should she do, what would she gain?
She didn't know. Her mind, dulled by fatigue, held only a single thought:
From the moment the gates opened, she had kept her rhythm, wrung every last ounce of strength from her body, unleashed every fraction of her speed—all for the sake of reaching, of crossing, that finish line, both far and near!
As she wavered between these contradictory sensations of distance, she became aware of another, stranger feeling.
She didn't understand it, but she knew if she could grasp it fully, the finish line would no longer be "far and near"—it would be right there, within her reach.
What… was this…?
Just as this question surfaced in her mind, Oguri Cap's heart clenched sharply, her pupils shrinking to pinpoints.
Like prey caught in a predator's sights, she felt it—clearly, undeniably—something closing in from behind, making her tremble with primal fear.
Avoid it—avoid it—avoid it—avoid it!
In that split instant, the thought blazed in her mind, and she almost put it into action.
And then, she remembered the words she had heard before the race, spoken with a faint smile.
"Well? Do you think you can dodge my 'Chestnut Bullet'?"
So this was it—the "Chestnut Bullet."
So strong… Dicta Striker. So this is what it meant.
In that instant of clarity, she abandoned the idea of dodging.
Because she also remembered her own reply:
"I… won't avoid it…"
"Do as you please…"
"No bullet… could ever…"
"Be faster than this monster!"
It was as though a hidden reservoir deep inside her had suddenly burst open, overflowing with endless power. Roaring up from within, it surged through her body. She stamped the ground heavily.
"Come on!"
"Pass me if you can!"
"Try it!"
"Dicta Striker!!"
The answer came—an ever-closer presence that seemed aimed at her very heart, accompanied by harsh breaths, footsteps that tore through the track, and winds that pierced everything in their path.
And waves upon waves of cheering, pierced by the commentator's frantic cries:
"It's here! The legendary triple burst is here!"
"Incredible! This monstrous gray horse girl from Kasamatsu!"
"First burst on the hill!"
"Second burst down the slope!"
"And now—the fabled third burst! At last!"
"The finish line is drawing closer! Just ahead!"
"100 meters!"
"Dicta Striker is closing in! The gap of two lengths is down to less than one!"
"Who will take this year's Yayoi Sho?! Oguri Cap or Dicta Striker?!"
"50 meters! The gap closes again! Who will it be?!"
"Oguri Cap?! Dicta Striker?!"
"At this very moment—across the line!!!"
"And the board shows… Oguri Cap!!!"
"What a photo finish! The margin was just a neck—barely a neck! Dicta Striker's final sprint was as bullet-fast as ever. If the race had been longer by fifty… no, even ten more meters, the result might have been reversed!"
"But there are no 'ifs'—Oguri Cap wins the Yayoi Sho! She secures victory for Team Eisei in today's showdown, and most importantly—she earns priority entry into the Satsuki Sho! With this, she stands at 14 races, 14 wins…"
The commentator's voice suddenly faltered. Across the stadium, only the roar of the crowd remained.
Long seconds passed. The broadcast booth stayed silent, save for faint, disbelieving mutters: "Wait…" "Impossible…" "No way…"
Beyond the finish line, Oguri Cap's breaths began to steady again, her powerful heart easing her back to rhythm as she walked.
"…Haa—haven't been this exhausted in a long time. Not since the Golden Youth Cup back at Kasamatsu…"
Her mind clearing, Oguri Cap blinked, as if realizing something.
"…Strange. Was it just my imagination?"
"In those last moments… Dicta felt so much like March from the Golden Youth Cup…"
Murmuring, she looked around—and quickly spotted a familiar chestnut-haired figure.
Dicta Striker, too, was cooling down after the race. Bent over, hands on her knees, sweat dripping from her chin to the grass, she seemed far less strained than she had moments earlier.
Oguri Cap walked over and held out her hand.
"Dicta, you—"
"Hahahahahaha! You! Oguri Cap!"
With a sudden burst of wild laughter, Dicta Striker's head snapped up. Like a hunter seizing prey, she grabbed Oguri Cap's arm, startling her.
"That feeling—that feeling! It can't be wrong! That must be what CB senpaicalled the 'domain'! I have to thank you, Oguri Cap! Without you, I'd never have touched it! Not this soon, not ever!"
"Damn it! I'm not satisfied at all! I want to race you again right now!"
"One more time—next time I won't even use the domain! I'll crush you head-on! No—wait, the domain—I haven't mastered it yet. Senpai said the real state is different from what I felt, so I…"
"Anyway—I will race you again, Oguri Cap!"
Her grip like a wolf's jaws, Dicta Striker ranted half-coherently, but her burning will was clear as day. Oguri Cap could feel it as plainly as the slight sting in her arm.
"Yes—nothing would make me happier."
Oguri Cap nodded firmly. "Next time, we'll race again!"
"Good! Exactly! Hahahaha!! You are a worthy rival, you—"
Dicta Striker's manic laughter filled the air—until a trembling shout from the announcer's booth cut across the stadium.
"E-everyone! To all following here live, on TV, or on the radio!"
"D-did you realize?!"
"From her debut at Kasamatsu to the central stage, this gray monster has gone undefeated—14 races, 14 wins!!!"
"Her fourteenth victory—today's Yayoi Sho, the trial for the Satsuki Sho! She now has priority entry to the first leg of the Classic Triple Crown!!"
"She—Oguri Cap, the gray monster—will challenge the highest honor of a horse girl, the Classic Triple Crown, with an undefeated streak!!!"
"The last to reach this point was the one who now stands at the pinnacle: the fourth Triple Crown in URA history, the first undefeated Triple Crown, the first with seven G1 victories, Student Council President of Central Tracen Academy—The Emperor, Symboli Rudolf!!!"
"My god! After all this time—are we about to witness the birth of another undefeated Triple Crown?!!"
The commentator's voice cracked into silence, the speakers buzzing with dead static.
That buzzing filled the stadium—because the audience itself had fallen into stunned quiet.
The horse girls who had just finished their own race froze as if holding their breath. Eyes wide, some covering their mouths in disbelief, they all stared at the tall silver-gray figure.
At first, that figure only moved her lips, twitched her ears, turned her head with a puzzled look.
She didn't understand what was happening. Seeing the sudden silence, she only scratched her head, parted her lips slightly, and stood dumbly in place.
No one knew how long the silence lasted.
"…Ha, haha? Hahahaha?"
The first to break it, with mechanical laughter, was Dicta Striker, who stood nearest. She couldn't describe her feelings—as if something inside her had been drained away in a strange way.
She hadn't lost her strength. She could stand, she could laugh. But she didn't know where she was, nor why she wanted to laugh.
But she had words to say.
"Is this… real…?"
Her arm lifted stiffly, finger trembling as it pointed to Oguri Cap beside her.
"You… what… Huh? Undefeated Triple Crown…? No—undefeated challenge to the Triple Crown?!"
"After the Emperor—after President Rudolf… the second undefeated Triple Crown horse girl…?"
"Am I… dreaming?"
As if woken by her words, Oguri Cap shook off her daze and her face lit up in delight.
"Oh, so you're fine, Dicta! That's such a relief."
Cheerfully, she clasped the hand still pointing at her.
"Hey, Dicta, what's going on? Why does everyone look so strange? Why aren't they talking?"
She pointed at the broadcast speakers by the track. "And why are those things quiet too? What happened?"
"And also," she tilted her head, puzzlement clear in her voice,
"What was a 'Triple Crown' again? I think the teacher mentioned it once in class, but I forgot, I…"
She didn't finish.
"You forgot something this important?!!! This is the undefeated Triple Crown!!! Are you really that airheaded, or are you faking it?!!!"
Snatching her by the collar, Dicta Striker's eyes nearly popped, bloodshot, mouth open wide enough to show both rows of teeth—and deeper inside, her uvula shaking violently from the force of her screams.
Along with her furious shouts, a spray of spit flew rudely across Oguri Cap's face.
"Hey, hey, your spit—Dicta, you sprayed spit all over me."
Still trapped in her grip, Oguri Cap scrambled to cover her face with her arm, then wiped it clean with visible distaste.
"Honestly, can't you just talk normally? I didn't do anything to upset you…"
"That's not the point! Do you even hear what you just said?!"
Still spitting flecks of saliva, drawing more grimaces from Oguri Cap, Dicta Striker gritted her teeth suddenly.
"No, I can't explain this to a space-case like you right now. Besides…"
She seemed to have calmed down. Although her eyes still carried that look of bitter disappointment, she quickly glanced around.
The horse girls on the track were also coming back to their senses one by one. They looked over with even greater astonishment and confusion, and began whispering among themselves.
Those hushed whispers spread like a signal. In an instant, the loudspeakers began to stir, while cries of shock and screams erupted from many spots in the audience stands.
And that wasn't the end. Some of the spectators closest to the track actually ignored the danger and climbed over the railings. With faces full of unmistakable fanaticism, they stared straight ahead, as if ready to rush right over.
There were also all kinds of reporters—some in plain sight, others hiding in corners—lugging cameras and recorders as they all but charged this way.
It wasn't as if there were no security staff maintaining order around the track, but a good number of them were still frozen in shock, and only some were reacting. With just that handful, there was no way to stop the growing wave of fanatics trying to force their way onto the course.
They were like zombies straight out of a horror movie, on the verge of overwhelming the already shaky barricade of guards.
Especially since a few of the security guards themselves looked eager to dash over as well.
"No time to explain—don't move! Just trust me this once!"
With a sharp shout, and without caring whether Oguri Cap had processed it or not, Dicta Striker yanked hard on her collar, spun around, and tossed her onto her own back.
"Hold on tight! I'll get you out of here first!"
"Ah—eh—oh, o-okay…"
Oguri Cap still didn't understand the situation at all. She only felt that Dicta Striker meant her no harm. Instinctively, she tightened her legs around the latter's waist and grabbed onto her shoulders.
But before she could even get a firm grip, Dicta Striker was already relying on the stamina she had just recovered from the race, unleashing her long strides as she sprinted toward the exit of the track.
That sudden dash—especially with Oguri Cap carried on her back—threw the entire stadium, and especially the audience stands, into chaos.
"Don't run! Oguri Cap! Let me take a picture with you! You're the undefeated Triple Crown horse girl!"
"Please don't run! Just one touch! Just one touch, that's all! I swear I won't touch again! You're the undefeated Triple Crown horse girl!"
"Just a moment! Only a moment! Let me interview you for just a little while!"
"Don't run! We mean you no harm, Oguri Cap!"
"An autograph! I just want an autograph! Will you sign for me?!"
"Hurry! Oguri Cap's being taken away by Dicta Striker! If we don't chase now, we'll lose them!"
"Don't be like this, Dicta Striker! Wait for us!"
"Dicta Striker! Put Oguri Cap down! We won't do anything to her!"
Amidst the frenzied cries and screams, Oguri Cap finally began to understand what was happening. She couldn't help but turn her head, watching the chaotic scene behind her as people clambered over the railings, rushing toward her and Dicta Striker. Her expression was one of shock.
"…Hey, Dicta…"
Staring blankly at the uproar, Oguri Cap, without thinking, reached out a hand and brushed against something soft and fuzzy.
"What's wrong with these people…?"
"Don't pull my ear! You scared me! In a situation like this, you can't just touch randomly—it'll cause problems!"
At that touch to her ear during full-speed running, Dicta Striker jolted in surprise, nearly losing her balance, but barely managed to steady herself.
Still, she couldn't bring herself to blame Oguri Cap, since the latter immediately let go and apologized again and again.
"Ah, sorry, sorry… I just don't get what's wrong with all these people…"
"What's wrong…"
Grinding her teeth, repeating the words, already burning with frustration, Dicta Strikerabruptly slowed a few steps, came to a halt, and shouted toward the wave of crazed fans several hundred meters behind them.
"Are you insane?!! You absolute idiots!!! Chasing after two horse girls?!!! On foot, no less?!!! Did you take the wrong meds, or just wake up half-asleep?!!"
Then, with a vicious snort, she lowered Oguri Cap to the ground and pointed toward the crowd.
"See? That's why I had to get you out fast."
"If you don't want them to catch you and cause a whole mess of trouble, then hurry—we'll get out of Nakayama Racecourse first, then contact your trainer, Kitahara."
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Author's Note:
That wrapped up the "First Steps in Central" arc. The detailed outline for that part was also complete.
While tidying up the outline over the last two days, I realized I could group earlier sections into volumes:
The first volume, naturally, is the Kasamatsu Arc.
The second is the First Steps in Central Arc.
And coming up is the Classic Triple Crown Arc. I'll sort things out further later.
After the Triple Crown is the Japan Cup. At that point there's actually a fork in the storyline: after the Japan Cup, should it continue along the classic domestic route, or branch into an overseas expedition?
I've drafted ideas for both in the outline. Either way works for the story, but I haven't decided which to follow more clearly.
(End of this chapter)