Following the sound, Kitahara quickly noticed two questioning gazes beside him.
One belonged to someone he knew well—Kurokawa Miyu.
The other came from a middle-aged woman.
At first glance, the woman looked rather thin. Her shoulders were narrow and slight, which made her head seem somewhat large by comparison.
Still, it was within normal proportions—not exaggerated like Biwa Hayahide's.
Similarly, she wore the kind of short, curly hairstyle common among middle-aged American women. From a distance, it resembled a head of broccoli, which naturally made it appear larger. The style gave her a capable, energetic impression.
This was Penny Chenery, Secretariat's trainer.
"Ms. Penny, may I ask… what were you and Ms. Kurokawa just discussing?"
Pulling a bit of his focus back from the track, Kitahara asked politely. He hadn't paid attention to their earlier conversation.
"No need to be so formal. I was just curious—does Tokino Minoru… like Secretariat, possess the ability to accelerate throughout the entire race?"
"And at the same time, I'm a little worried…"
As she said this, Penny Chenery glanced at Kurokawa Miyu. The latter, however, acted as if she hadn't noticed and kept her eyes fixed on Kitahara.
Full-race acceleration…
Hearing that term, Kitahara didn't immediately know how to respond.
At that exact moment, the commentator's voice echoed the same astonishment as Penny's question.
"The race is already clearly stratifying—and they've only just passed the first turn!"
"Oh no! That's not quite accurate!"
"The ones passing the first turn are Secretariat and Tokino Minoru—they're still battling for the front!"
"This is astonishing—those familiar with Secretariat rarely see such a sight! A Uma Musume keeping up with her pace!"
"That unbelievable acceleration—her full-race acceleration—we've witnessed its power at the Kentucky, the Preakness, and the Belmont, and in countless other races!"
"So far, no Uma Musume has ever truly managed to stay with Secretariat while she's accelerating throughout the entire race!"
"Could this mysterious runner from Japan accomplish the impossible?!"
The commentator's shock was obvious—he hadn't even fully explained the "stratified race" point.
Kitahara could see it clearly.
The race had stratified.
The two merciless veterans had stormed through the first turn at absolute speed, leaving the three juniors far behind.
When they passed the marker at the end of the first turn, the three trailing runners were only just crossing the marker at its beginning.
The gap was undeniable. This was a true separation.
For now, the cameras and the giant screen could still capture the entire field in one frame.
But soon, a single camera might not suffice. The screen might need to split.
Kitahara knew why. He knew why the commentator had nearly lost his composure.
The reason was that very term Penny had mentioned—
"Full-race acceleration."
It sounded advantageous—ideal for winning.
But for almost all Uma Musume, it was practically lethal.
Or rather, not "almost."
"Nearly all" would be more accurate.
Uma Musume looked human. Many of their physical structures were similar.
But in truth, they still shared fundamental traits with racehorses.
For example—they lacked humans' instinctive stamina control and superior heat dissipation.
Racehorses are physiologically unsuited for prolonged intense exertion. Normally, their body temperature sits between 37.5 and 38.5°C—slightly higher than humans.
During running, most energy converts into heat rather than forward propulsion.
If body temperature rises to 41 or 42°C, heatstroke may occur—damaging health and hindering recovery.
Extended high-intensity running can also strain the heart and blood pressure, leading to extreme fatigue or injury.
The same applied to Uma Musume.
Touch their skin and you'd notice they felt warm.
Even in winter, their hands and feet rarely grew icy cold. They were like living hand warmers.
But without professional training—without cultivating a human-like instinct to regulate pace and temperature—they could truly run themselves into disaster.
Their innate longing for speed was something humans could never fully comprehend. Training was the only method humans had to prevent accidents.
It was similar to speed limits on "high-speed horse roads."
Unlike highways meant for vehicles, those limits were designed to restrict the Uma Musume themselves—for safety—not to prevent collisions.
Still, just as there are geniuses among humans, there were exceptional beings among Uma Musume.
Some could ignore the effects of heat and speed on their bodies.
Or rather—they simply weren't affected.
They could accelerate continuously—beyond the limits of others.
Secretariat was such a being.
Though no public medical data existed in this world, based on the other world, it was nearly certain her physical structure differed from ordinary runners.
In that world, Secretariat's heart was abnormally large—estimated at 1 to 1.5 times the size of a typical racehorse's.
Her blood vessels and nervous system were likewise extraordinary.
Together, these traits allowed her to withstand the unthinkable ability of full-race acceleration.
The clearest proof?
Her American Triple Crown victories.
Kentucky Derby – 1:59.4
Preakness Stakes – originally 1:53.4, later corrected to 1:52
Belmont Stakes – 2:24
Those times shattered records—and decades later, remained unbroken.
Her legend wasn't merely about win counts or consistency.
It was about time.
Unprecedented. Unmatched.
All because of full-race acceleration.
If that were all, it still wouldn't fully explain Penny's concern.
Kitahara knew she wasn't boasting.
She was worried.
"…Ms. Penny, you're worried about Tazuna… ah, I mean Tokino Minoru. Please forgive me—I'm more used to her former name."
He gave a quick nod and turned back to the track.
If possible, he didn't want to divide his attention.
Even stripped of all symbolism and meaning, this race alone was too spectacular to look away from.
He almost wanted to ignore the conversation.
But that would be rude—especially when her concern was for his runner.
"Tokino Minoru… will be fine."
He stated the conclusion first.
"I know what you're thinking."
"It's because of Sham."
He continued rapidly, eyes fixed on the widening gap.
"I admit—looking only at that year's Triple Crown, it's hard not to worry that someone trying to keep up with Secretariat's full-race acceleration might run into trouble."
"If Tokino Minoru were just an ordinary Uma Musume, that concern would be very valid…"
Before he could continue, Penny gasped.
"I… I'm sorry. Please forgive my reaction. I never expected Tokino Minoru to adopt the same running style as Secretariat…"
She wasn't looking at Secretariat.
Her worried gaze was fixed on the brown silhouette.
"I didn't confirm this with Ms. Kurokawa beforehand. It's not something appropriate to discuss before a race. I assumed she wouldn't choose such an… overreached strategy…"
She paused.
"Sorry—I mean… a conservative strategy might have been safer. Not so… aggressive."
Overreached.
Kitahara caught the fleeting discomfort in Kurokawa's eyes.
Kurokawa Miyu spoke calmly.
"Please don't put it that way, Ms. Penny."
"If it were the me from years ago—the 'perfect' me—I would never have allowed her to run like this. Never again."
"I once imposed my own ideas on a runner. Ignored her will. That mistake should never have happened—not even once."
A flicker of regret passed through her eyes.
"I understand your concern. And I know about Sham."
"She was brilliant—perhaps even capable of defeating Secretariat. Yet she lost."
"Two and a half lengths in the Derby. The same in the Preakness. And in the Belmont… more than thirty-one lengths. Last place."
"She fractured a bone in the middle of the race—because she tried to match Secretariat's full acceleration."
"You're worried Tokino Minoru will repeat that, aren't you?"
Penny hesitated.
"Yes."
Kurokawa continued:
"This strategy wasn't my choice. It was Tokino Minoru 's."
"And I asked her not to consider my opinion. To follow her own will."
"She said she would ask Chief Trainer Kitahara instead."
"That's why I wanted you to ask him."
"In this race, I am only a spectator."
Penny nodded, though confusion lingered.
In her heart, she simply didn't believe anyone could match Secretariat at full acceleration.
"Overreached" had slipped out instinctively.
She wasn't belittling Japan.
She was stating what seemed obvious.
Japan's runners had yet to prove themselves internationally.
If they truly had one equal to Secretariat, prior overseas campaigns wouldn't have ended so poorly.
Her worry remained.
So she turned to Kitahara again.
But Kitahara had already forgotten the two women beside him.
The race had seized him completely.
All he could see now was the enormous gap.
Two groups, as if running entirely different races.
The thunder of footsteps.
The roaring commentary.
"On the first straight!"
"Unbelievable!"
"Our Secretariat is, unusually, in second place!"
"Of course, this must be temporary—we believe in our great legend!"
"Currently leading—the mysterious Japanese runner, Tokino Minoru!"
"Incredible!"
"She's matching Secretariat's continuous acceleration—and now…"
"She's ahead!"
Nine lengths behind them—Oguri Cap in third.
Then Super Creek.
Then Mejiro Ardan.
Kitahara wanted to keep watching.
His three runners weren't fighting to win.
They were fighting to limit the margin of defeat.
He had warned them.
But seeing it unfold was different.
He desperately hoped they would gain something invaluable from this race.
The mindset of true champions.
The courage to challenge.
Again and again.
And yet…
A shadow of worry crept into his heart.
…Could this…
This enormous gap…
If it widens further…
Be too devastating a blow?
Even if it was meant as a lesson…
Wouldn't this hit them too hard…?
But… wouldn't this be going too well…?
If things continued at this pace, it was starting to resemble Secretariat's Belmont all over again…
That had been a 31-length…
A century-defining gap.
And that was only 2400 meters.
This race was 3000 meters…
The three of them…
Could they withstand this…?
Wasn't this…?
Excited, worried, faintly regretful—his thoughts tangled together when someone beside him suddenly spoke in English again.
"What's up?! Oh, I'm sorry…"
Being interrupted while watching the race, Kitahara felt a flash of irritation. But seeing that it was Penny Chenery again, he forcibly suppressed it.
He quickly realized she was probably still concerned about the same issue as before.
"No problem."
This time, determined to return to the race as soon as possible, he didn't even give her a chance to ask again.
"Tokino Minoru is different from Sham. Please… understand that, Ms. Penny."
He forced himself to meet her surprised gaze and spoke slowly.
"I said earlier—if Tokino Minoru were only an Uma Musume, I would be worried too."
"Unlike Secretariat, although Harvest Time went ten-for-ten in her prime, her margins of victory gradually became smaller."
"Even accounting for accumulated injuries…"
He paused unconsciously and glanced toward Kurokawa Miyu.
The woman was biting her lower lip. In that instant, she seemed to age years.
But the words were already out.
"Perhaps that alone proves that as just an Uma Musume, she wouldn't have the same full-race acceleration as Secretariat."
"But—"
Seeing Penny about to interject, Kitahara cut in, somewhat impolitely.
"She isn't just an Uma Musume. She's also… human."
"I know that sounds unbelievable to you. But just like Secretariat's full-race acceleration, there are mysteries about Uma Musume we still don't understand."
"I can assure you—Harvest Time does not suffer the overheating issues other runners do during sustained acceleration. She has human-level heat dissipation."
"My team and I have professional equipment. We've confirmed it."
"So please. There's no need to worry."
He spoke with a trace of edge in his voice.
No matter what, being interrupted repeatedly during such a spectacular race—while agonizing over his own runners—was frustrating.
And even if Americans respected strength, being underestimated still grated on him.
If not for future club development and international academy relations, he would have snapped back harder.
As he turned away—pretending not to see Penny's stunned expression—he muttered softly in Japanese.
"Don't think only America has professional equipment… Mine aren't inferior. And besides…"
His gaze lingered on his own runner, then shifted to the leading figure twenty meters ahead.
"The one we have… besides 'Perfect' and 'Tokino Minoru'… once had another name."
"Peerless…"
On the track.
…So this is…
Tokino-senpai… no…
Peerless…
She truly is…
Peerless…
In her vision, the two leading figures were almost too far to distinguish.
Oguri Cap, already running at full throttle, ignored all training discipline and ran with her mouth wide open.
She didn't know how to describe what she was feeling.
She had lost before.
Maybe not in official Shine Star races—but in training matches, she had always run seriously.
The Epsom exchange meet. The recent relay.
She had given everything.
Yet those defeats never felt like this.
Before, she lost clearly—simply weaker.
Even the relay defeat, confusing at first, eventually made sense.
Her mind had gone blank then. She wasn't good at thinking. After losing, she couldn't figure out why.
She had done everything right… hadn't she?
She had even secretly run extra laps, hiding from Kitahara.
Still no answer.
Later, when Kitahara explained—
She lacked a clear goal. She hadn't figured out how she should run now.
She thought she understood.
At least a little.
But then…
Why…
Why is it like this?!
This time I didn't do anything wrong!
Why is it like this?!
I don't understand at all!
Why…
Lose this badly…
Why lose this badly?!
Is this what Kitahara meant…
By the summit of the world?
Does such a summit…
Truly exist?
In the future… will I meet opponents like this?
Terrifying…
Impossible to catch…
No hope of victory…
Will there be many?
If that's true…
What should I… do?
Kitahara…
Suddenly, instinctively, she turned her head.
She remembered—he liked standing near the finish line, watching her cross again and again.
If she glanced back just slightly, she might see him.
But the moment she turned, she felt something strange.
A wetness sliding from her eyelid down her nose.
Her vision blurred.
Huh…?
She lifted her arm instinctively—
"Focus! Oguri! Looking around like that is dangerous!"
It was Super Creek's voice.
Dangerous…
For some reason, Oguri didn't want anyone to see her face.
Especially not Super Creek… nor Ardan.
She snapped her head forward, lowering it so her bangs hid her eyes.
"Th-thanks, Super Creek…"
She glanced sideways.
…Strange…
Why is Super Creek lowering her head too…?
Before she could ask—
"Super Creek… about this race…"
Her voice trembled.
"…Yeah. There's no hope of winning."
Super Creek's voice was steady.
"I think I understand now… why Mr. Kitahara arranged this race."
"We… were too childish, Oguri. No… I was too childish."
"Too childish!"
She lifted her head sharply. Strands of hair flew—and with them, glittering droplets scattered into the wind.
"Thinking beating you was enough… that's nowhere near enough!"
"The world… the world…"
"There isn't just you ahead of me!"
"It's not just you, Oguri!"
"That's right!"
"There's no hope of winning!"
"But!"
"No matter what—I—"
"I'll run to the very end!"
"If this is the world—"
"Then I'll see with my own eyes how far I am from it!"
"Sorry, Oguri—you…"
"You're no longer my goal… no longer my reason to run!"
With that cry, Super Creek accelerated violently.
Moments later, Mejiro Ardan overtook as well.
"…Ar…dan…?"
She didn't look back.
"…Oguri…"
And then silence.
What… happened to me…?
What did Ardan mean…?
What did Super Creek mean…?
An endless fog of confusion enveloped the silver-haired runner.
She was still running—
But it felt like routine.
Or instinct.
The commentator's voice rose again.
"Congratulations to all runners!"
"Though far behind, Super Creek accelerates and overtakes Oguri Cap! Mejiro Ardan follows!"
"Oguri Cap is now last—hopefully she won't give up!"
"Now let's turn the cameras forward."
The screen cut.
At the front—
"It's clearly a duel now!"
"The gap is a complete large margin!"
"Distance sensors show over ten lengths!"
"And leading now—Secretariat!"
"Half a length ahead of Tokino Minrou!"
"Positions reversed!"
"Secretariat has been continuously accelerating—Tokino Minoru's acceleration seems less effective!"
"Perhaps keeping up is too much for her!"
"But regardless, this Japanese runner has astonished us!"
On the track.
"Oh… reluctantly…"
Secretariat glanced sideways.
"Seriously… what a silly commentator. Don't you think?"
Tokino Minoru smiled gently.
"I don't think so."
"And weren't you thinking the same earlier, Miss Secretariat?"
"I sincerely apologize, Miss Secretary."
They ran side by side.
"Are you worried about your juniors?" Secretariat asked.
"If they force themselves to follow us… they might get hurt."
"Yes. That's why…"
Tokino Minoru's eyes sharpened briefly.
"We need to raise the speed high enough that they lose the desire to follow."
She paused.
"Before that… one question."
"Because of commercial reasons, you were forced into early retirement."
"Did you… hate Ms. Penny Chenery?"
Secretariat froze.
In that instant, Tokino Minoru surged past.
For a moment, Secretariat saw not brown—but a deep, inky green-black aura enveloping her rival.
Zone.
No wonder she said she'd raise the speed.
She didn't chase immediately.
She understood.
The field was fully open.
Moments later—
Thunderous footsteps.
"OH—!"
"Tokino Minoru accelerates!"
"Secretariat responds!"
"No—this isn't acceleration—they've been accelerating the entire time!"
"Unbelievable!"
"I must apologize—Tokino Minoru isn't barely keeping up!"
"She truly has the strength to challenge Secretariat!"
"…Intense? Heh. Foolish…"
Secretariat glanced sideways.
"Hate? Perhaps. At the peak of your career, forced to retire—you'd feel something similar."
"Though… we are alike. Besides being 'Secretaries.'"
"But now? After all these years… what's the point of dwelling?"
"To run like this again…"
"Is enough."
Tokino Minoru nodded.
"Yes. It's enough."
"So…"
She met Secretariat's gaze.
"Can you still accelerate?"
"Wasn't I waiting for you?"
"This time… you first."
"Then I won't hold back."
And they surged again.