Nakayama Racecourse, Rain, Good Track.
Silver needles of rain pierced the leaden sky, casting a fine mist over Nakayama Racecourse. A gentle breeze brushed against the faces of the spectators, carrying with it the chilly curtain of rain, mingled with the scent of damp earth and fresh turf.
Even as the rain soaked through their sleeves, it couldn't extinguish the blazing fire of passion burning in the hearts of the crowd.
This was the venue of the Satsuki Sho, the overture to the Classic Triple Crown, a stage built by all the geniuses of this generation. The starting point of the story, the dawn of legend—everything to do with glory was set to begin here today.
So how could the audience not be electrified, how could their blood not boil with excitement?!
"A stage shared by genius after genius, yet only one winner can emerge! Let's witness it together—where the true glory of this generation lies!"
"Welcome to Nakayama Racecourse! The prologue of the Classic Triple Crown, the Satsuki Sho, begins at this very moment!"
The passionate voice of the female announcer reverberated across the racetrack, sending ripples through the damp air and fueling the already blazing excitement of the crowd.
"Oooooohhhhhh!"
Cheers and shouts of support merged into a massive wave of sound, powerful enough to feel as though it could shatter the very rain.
"Can her undefeated streak since her debut continue today? Can she inherit her mother's glory? Can she redeem her sister's shame? The next competitor to take the stage is—"
"The top pick! Number three, Dream Weaver!"
"Let us witness your brilliance!"
As the commentator's fiery introduction echoed, the already thrilled spectators grew even more fervent. The stands erupted with roaring cheers like a tidal wave.
Some leaned out, waving their flags despite the rain soaking their clothes. Others clenched their damp hands, knuckles turning white with tension. Children perched on their fathers' shoulders, their clear eyes reflecting the glistening wet track.
Some even stepped out from under the shelter of the roof, braving the rain just to make their voices carry a little further.
Their passion transformed into a tangible heat, so intense that the falling raindrops seemed to evaporate mid-air into a hazy mist.
Amid the crowd, King Halo stared somewhat dazedly at the black-and-red figure waving to the spectators on the track. Unconsciously, her grip tightened on the railing. The cold metal seeped through her gloves, but she hardly noticed.
Looking around at the audience shouting themselves hoarse for Dream Weaver, King Halo felt a shock run through her.
It had been a long time since King Halo last attended one of Dream Weaver's races, and only now did she realize just how much expectation and attention her little sister had gathered along the way.
As an older sister who also carried her own share of expectations, King Halo couldn't help but feel a twinge of worry for Dream Weaver.
But as a fellow Uma Musume, she also felt stirred by these cheers. The instinctual desire to race, etched deep within her, made her yearn to witness what kind of shock—what kind of impact—this Uma Musume, who inspired such thunderous admiration, could deliver.
"So... she's come this far already."
In King Halo's heart, that little Dream Weaver—the one who would feel nervous stepping into unfamiliar places for the first time, who looked up to her surrounded-by-fame older sister, who would beam with joy upon receiving a gift—had grown into a powerful Uma Musume in places King Halo hadn't been there to see.
King Halo's fingertips dug deeply into the railing, her knuckles blanching white. She suddenly leaned forward, half her body breaking through the curtain of rain. The cold droplets instantly drenched her hair, streaming down her cheeks and neck, soaking the fabric on her shoulders.
"Dream—!"
"You have to win!"
This cry tore through the roar of the crowd like a blazing meteor, piercing through the gloomy rain and the boiling sea of people. King Halo's pupils trembled slightly, her gaze locked fiercely on that black-and-red figure at the center of the track.
In the distance, Dream Weaver seemed to sense it. She turned her head abruptly.
The rain blurred their view, but King Halo saw clearly: the corners of Dream Weaver's lips lifted gently. She nodded firmly in King Halo's direction.
Standing behind King Halo, Dancing Brave smiled. King Halo had made peace with herself. As a mother, that was one less thing for her to worry about.
But...
Dancing Brave turned her gaze toward the track, focusing on that figure sharp enough to slice through the rain. A frown of worry creased her brow.
As a world-class Uma Musume, she had recognized Dream Weaver's talent long ago.
As a mother, her hope for Dream Weaver was simply that she live a safe and peaceful life. As a world-class Uma Musume, she had the means to provide Dream Weaver with such a tranquil, happy life.
But that stubborn child had apparently had her own ideas from a very young age.
No matter how subtly Dancing Brave tried to dissuade her, it only resulted in—outward agreement, but a heart that wouldn't listen.
Even when Dancing Brave personally stepped in and asked trainers not to select Dream Weaver, she still managed to get this far on her own power, stepping onto the stage known as the Satsuki Sho.
Dancing Brave slowly closed her eyes, listening to the tidal wave of cheers from the audience. She'd heard cheers like this many times before, but their scorching emotion hadn't diminished in the slightest. It acted like fuel, reigniting her heart, which had gradually cooled after her retirement.
In a daze, Dancing Brave felt as if she had returned to the era when she herself was still racing across the tracks—the 2000 Guineas, the Eclipse Stakes, the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe. Those days bathed in glory were the most radiant years of her life as an Uma Musume.
"There are no weaklings among the Uma Musume who set foot on a G1 race track."
Dancing Brave whispered, her voice beginning to tremble. But this time, it wasn't from worry about Dream Weaver. It was the instinctual thrill of an Uma Musume responding to the racetrack.
"Some carry the hopes of the masses, some bear the love of their family, and others carry expectations for themselves."
"Everyone has a reason they cannot lose."
"However, when one horse leads, ten thousand are cast in shadow."
"In the rules of racing, three may stand on the winner's podium. But for all the Uma Musume who set foot on this track, this glory belongs to only one."
"Only the most brilliant Uma Musume can break through and bask in that radiance."
She slowly opened her eyes. Within her crimson pupils, flames seemed to burn—a scorching gaze capable of piercing through the rain, straight to the heart of the track.
In this moment, she was no longer the anxious mother. She was Dancing Brave, the legendary world-class Uma Musume who had once dominated the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe.
"Let me see it with my own eyes—"
Her voice was low and firm, like the beating of a war drum, each syllable carrying the weight of past glory and present fervor.
"—your brilliance!"
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T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 3 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
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If you guys wanna check it out.