It was over.
The roar of the crowd ceased abruptly as the black figure streaked past the finish line.
The entire racecourse fell into an unnerving silence.
This was the first time since the establishment of the [Japan Uma Musume Racing Association] that such quiet had descended upon the conclusion of a race.
It was as if the entire world had been put on pause.
Silence, hesitation, shock, anger—a tumult of complex emotions swirled in the spectators' eyes.
Even those who wanted to cheer for the black Uma Musume were affected by the atmosphere.
No one dared make a sound. No one dared speak.
Except for the howling wind, which reminded everyone that time still flowed, the crowd seemed frozen in place, motionless as if encased in ice.
Tap… tap… tap…
The sound of feet brushing against the grass, a soft rustling that reached the ears.
Only one person moved within this still world.
That Black Phantom.
Before a crowd of one hundred and seventy thousand spectators, before the many champions who had dominated the tracks, she slowly walked away.
What was she thinking at this moment?
The joy of defeating her rivals? The exhilaration of fulfilling her proclamation? The sheer ecstasy of conquering the race?
Surely, she must have felt one of these.
But… she simply exited the track, just as she always did.
The silence melted away; not a trace of emotion showed on her.
Void.
Yes, that was the only word that suited her.
Though she stood there, she gave everyone a sense of intangibility, as if she might vanish from the track at any second.
Clap—
A single applause broke out.
Enduring the pain in her chest, swallowing the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth, steadying her breathing, Maruzensky straightened up and offered applause to that retreating back.
Then, Narita Brian, Oguri Cap, Tamamo Cross, Sirius Symboli—all the other competitors, standing at the finish line, facing the direction the black figure had departed, began to clap.
In the vast Tokyo Racecourse, the applause of thirteen individuals reached the ears of one hundred and seventy thousand.
Tap… tap… tap…
The footsteps grew fainter. Only when her figure completely disappeared into the dark tunnel did the oppressive gloom that had shrouded the racecourse finally lift.
Sunlight once again bathed the track, and the crowd, thawing from their icy stillness, gradually stirred back to life.
Only then did they realize: the race was over.
Yes, it was over. All of it was over…
As the applause faded, Maruzensky lowered her head and clenched her fists.
Her chest hurt so much.
It really, really ached…
That feeling of a blade piercing her heart.
Even though the pressure she had exerted was gone, the pain itself had left a scar on her heart that couldn't be easily concealed.
I see… So this is it…
This is what they call 'defeat,' isn't it?
After nine races, in her tenth, Maruzensky had finally tasted defeat for the first time.
It felt as if everything inside her had been hollowed out; her arms were so weak she could barely lift a finger; a chilling cold spread through her skin and muscles.
Even the turf no longer felt soft, instead hardening unyieldingly beneath her ankles, as if the whole world had turned against her.
Tilting her head back, Maruzensky looked up at the sky.
Strange… Was the sun always this blinding…?
--+--
"Announcement: Based on the photo finish, the winner of this race is—Maruzensky—!"
In the final moments, even as Maruzensky lost speed, she had still managed to defeat the second-place Tamamo Cross by a neck.
Just before the finish line, Narita Brian and the others had actually drawn level, running side-by-side, their positions nearly indistinguishable.
By the time they caught up to Maruzensky, she was already crossing the line.
Because the margins were so incredibly close, the outcome had to be determined by the photo finish.
But whether it was by a neck or a nose, for Maruzensky, it had lost all meaning.
"Well done, Maruzensky—!"
"Congratulations on your victory!"
"Ten consecutive wins!"
After about ten seconds of silence, scattered, belated cheers began to rise from the stands.
The spectators readjusted, shifting their focus back onto the athletes.
Just as that black Uma Musume had left the track as always, leaving no name behind, the race records also did not include her among the victors.
Thus, Maruzensky remained the undefeated champion. People offered their congratulations, celebrating her victory in the Autumn [Tenno Sho].
It wasn't just Maruzensky; every participant had been remarkable.
This was the first time Maruzensky had won by such an extremely narrow margin. It was also the first time in the history of the Autumn [Tenno Sho] that so many competitors had crossed the finish line in such an indistinguishable cluster.
Their achievements were already something to be proud of.
Listening to the voices of the crowd, Maruzensky, who had been staring at the sky, closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and then—
"See? This is my speed!"
Facing the stands, striking a victorious pose, Maruzensky smiled again.
Waving, she jogged slowly around the track, and the cheers grew louder and louder.
Influenced by Maruzensky's demeanor, people gradually pushed the earlier events to the back of their minds. They began to cheer fervently for the winner of the race, shouting the names of the Uma Musume they supported.
"Maruzen…"
In the observation room, Symboli Rudolf's heart felt heavy.
Words spoken without true feeling.
Both the spectators and Maruzensky were guilty of it.
But Maruzensky had chosen to use her own 'feigned joy' to shield everyone else.
That expression… Rudolf remembered it.
When Maruzensky had chosen to retire, to leave the track she loved, facing the fans who had come to see her final race, Maruzensky had smiled.
'Keep the hardship for yourself, let the brilliance shine on the spectators. Let the [Japan Uma Musume Racing Association] fulfill its true purpose.'
That's what Maruzensky had said. 'I want everyone who comes to watch the races to leave with a smile on their face.'
It would be too ungrateful to those who traveled so far to cheer for her if she left the track looking sorrowful.
A good beginning and a good end—for an Uma Musume, that was the perfect conclusion.
'Don't you agree, Rudolf-chan…?'
--+--
In the stands, Musaka Ginjirou leaned on his cane and slowly rose to his feet.
Not only had he failed with the 'Black Phantom,' he hadn't even surpassed Maruzensky or Tamamo Cross.
Fourth place in the race, third in the records.
A complete and utter failure in the truest sense.
He had set out full of confidence, only to return utterly defeated.
What a familiar feeling.
"…"
He held his breath.
Really, no matter how many times he experienced it… he just couldn't get used to this feeling…
Amid the cheering, bustling crowd, Musaka Ginjirou turned and left the racecourse.
The Autumn [Tenno Sho] was over.
What was lost… trying to make up for it now was already too late.
There was only one way to take it back.
The simplest, most direct, yet seemingly most difficult method.
--+--
Knock, knock, knock—
A rap on the door.
"Is Symboli Rudolf here? There's a phone call for you."
--+--
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!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.