**Chapter 18: A Photo Finish Showdown**
"Time to go," Ochiai murmured, giving a gentle pat to the neck of his partner beneath him.
Mejiro Pegasus flicked its head in response, a familiar spark in its eyes.
The clock read 5:25 PM. Five minutes until the race.
A faint sting burned Ochiai's inner thighs, the ache of a long day in the saddle. But his arms still had some strength—enough, he hoped, for this race. He took a deep breath, steadying himself.
"No need to rush the start," he thought, glancing at the track. A light rain had fallen earlier, leaving the dirt slightly heavy, according to the bulletin board.
Unlike turf, a track like this favored a faster pace in dirt races. He recalled the day's earlier races: three of the six winners had come from mid-pack, biding their time before surging forward.
"Thank you for your hard work today!" a voice called out. It was the horse owner, dressed sharply in a black suit, offering a respectful bow.
"Leave it to me," Ochiai replied, his tone matching the man's solemnity. He owed it to the owner's trust to give everything he had.
With that, Kitano, the owner's assistant, headed back to the stands. Today, the crowd seemed livelier than usual. A group of young fans had gathered near the front, their numbers larger than at the last race. Their excited chatter filled the air, a buzzing backdrop to the tension building on the track.
"Number 3, Kaga Shio. Number 4, Mejiro Pegasus. Number 5…" The announcer's voice droned over the speakers, unhurried, as the horses were called to the starting gate.
Mejiro Pegasus sauntered into its slot, shaking its head. Ochiai didn't mind the horse's restless energy. Off the track, Pegasus could be playful, almost childish, but when it mattered, it flipped a switch. True to form, once inside the gate, Pegasus stood focused, ignoring the fidgety horses nearby.
"Monbetsu's seventh race, the Makayama Special," the announcer declared. "The last to enter the gate is Kaga Shio, gate number 3."
The final stable hand released the lead rope and jogged off the track, clutching his yellow helmet. A heartbeat later, the gates sprang open.
"They're off!" the commentator shouted, a split second too late.
Ochiai wasted no time, guiding Pegasus toward the inside rail. With only six horses in the race, picking a route was straightforward, but the early scramble was fierce.
The three horses on the outside lunged for the inside track, setting a blistering pace. Kaga Shio, in gate 3, held its ground, its jockey, Agishi, defending the position with steely resolve.
"This could get tricky," Ochiai muttered under his breath. Up ahead, Jockey Iwahashi, riding Eishin Hikari, had already whipped his horse into a commanding lead. On the far outside, Arakudo, number 6, charged forward, refusing to be left behind.
It was shaping up to be a fast race, just as Ochiai had expected. Rather than fight for the lead, he eased back, tucking Pegasus behind Kaga Shio to save energy. A gentle tug on the reins was all it took—Pegasus understood instantly, settling into a steady rhythm.
The early chaos sorted itself out. "Number 1, Eishin Hikari, leads by half a length," the announcer called. "Followed by Number 6, Arakudo, four lengths back. Then Number 3, Kaga Shio, and Number 4, Mejiro Pegasus, with the rest trailing…"
In the stands, Kitano stood on his tiptoes, straining to see the track. He wasn't the clueless rookie he'd been a few races ago, but that only made him more nervous. "If Pegasus stays that far back, won't it be tough to catch up?" he asked, his voice tight.
Beside him, Ogawa Masaru, a seasoned fan with a calm demeanor, shook his head. "It's not like the last race, Mr. Kitano. This one's fast-paced. The leaders are burning energy up front. Horses in the middle, like Pegasus, can save their strength and make a big move in the final stretch."
Kitano frowned, skeptical. "Are you sure about that?"
Ogawa grinned, pointing to the track. "Just watch. By the fourth turn, Ochiai will make his move. Trust me."
On the track, the leaders were starting to fade. Even Iwahashi's relentless whipping couldn't keep Eishin Hikari's pace. The gap between the front-runners and the pack began to shrink.
"Time to move," Ochiai whispered, though Pegasus seemed to sense it before he did. As they hit the third turn, the horse surged forward, launching its late charge without needing a whip.
Ochiai focused on the reins, ignoring the sharp pain flaring in his thighs. He gritted his teeth, pushing through the fatigue. Not yet. He couldn't falter now. With every ounce of strength, he leaned forward, urging Pegasus on.
The crowd roared as Pegasus pulled ahead, passing the fading leaders. Ochiai's arms burned as he prepared for another push, but his body betrayed him. His hips sank briefly onto Pegasus's back, a clumsy mistake. He sprang up, heart racing, and managed a second push, though it lacked the force he wanted.
"Gotta be enough," he gasped, passing the furlong pole marking 200 meters to the finish. His breath came in short bursts.
Then, a crack like thunder split the air—urgent whips from behind. Ochiai's stomach dropped. At the edge of his vision, Kaga Shio was gaining, its jockey, Agishi, driving the horse with fierce determination.
Ochiai clenched his jaw, forcing his tired arms to lift again. His form was sloppy, his body bouncing awkwardly on Pegasus's back, but there was no time to care about appearances. Kaga Shio was right there, neck and neck, in a desperate sprint to the line.
"Is it Mejiro Pegasus? Mejiro Pegasus? Or Kaga Shio? Can Kaga Shio catch up?" the announcer's voice boomed, frantic.
Sweat stung Ochiai's eyes as he blinked, the finish line blurring ahead. The race was over in a flash.
"Kaga Shio! It's Kaga Shio! Kaga Shio wins!" the announcer declared.
A collective groan rose from the stands. Ochiai turned his head, catching sight of the "MEJIRO" banner waving limply in the crowd. His chest tightened. "I'm so sorry," he thought, his fingernails digging into his palms.
In the stands, Kitano sighed, waving his fist in frustration. But strangely, he wasn't as crushed as he'd expected. Pegasus and Ochiai had given their all. That had to count for something.
Ogawa, on the other hand, clutched his head like he'd bet his life savings on Pegasus. "Damn it! So close!" he groaned. "If the straight had been just a little shorter!"
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