BOOOOOM—!!!
A crushing pressure burst out like something solid, swallowing everyone around it.
Super Creek froze; her pupils knifed down to points.
She looked up—only to see that red figure, wreathed in endless flame, grow taller, more terrible.
A fire god descended to earth, bearing absolute dominance, blasting past her toward the finish with unstoppable speed.
That was pure power—and absolute rule.
And she, before it, felt so small—so powerless.
This was Inari One's Domain.
"Why…" Creek didn't fixate on how strong it was.
She fixated on how free it was.
Unlike Tamamo Cross or Oguri Cap's brain-off wildness,
within what looked like a beast's rampage, Creek saw techniques and will hardened by a thousand tempers.
It wasn't brute force—it was power mastered to the point of freedom.
"So… I'm the frog at the bottom of the well."
Creek bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.
Because others couldn't, she decided she couldn't—how ignorant was that?
The red figure didn't wait. She kept running farther ahead, as if Creek alone had stalled while the world moved on.
Glass seemed to crack, unheard.
"Inari One has passed Super Creek and takes the lead! Two hundred meters to the wire—can Creek come back?!"
The goal loomed.
Excitement had already faded from Inari's face. Wreathed in flame, she simply sprinted for the line.
Why use a Domain?
Even she wasn't sure.
She could've won today with normal running—and yet she'd spent the extra fuel.
Maybe she just couldn't stand it—
couldn't stand someone with that level of talent curling up in a narrow little pit of her own making.
"Whatever. I'll just finish it like this."
"It's my first Central G1; I wanted it to feel more special, but…"
As she pouted at herself, something pricked her senses. She stiffened, then snapped her head up—
red pupils contracting—as she looked back.
"Good. That's more like it."
Her smile went even wilder; the flames around her found deeper fuel and roared hotter.
Tak—!
Four lengths behind, a figure surged like a blue whale breaching from abyssal dark, dragging a sky-high tide of blue behind her.
No longer textbook form—only a resolve that could sweep down forests.
The wind yanked Creek's brown hair straight back.
Those once-gentle eyes blazed—not with softness, but with a will that wouldn't yield, and a broad, deep blue light.
Domain — Clear Current Run!
"Haaaaah—!!!"
Every muscle shook, every fiber screamed—
but the thirst for power, the stubborn claw for victory,
woke the era-shaping force sleeping inside her and drove her to erupt again.
"Super Creek—she's—she's coming back!"
The crowd's roar arced back to the peak.
Many leapt to their feet, unable to believe their eyes.
The finish line sharpened a hundred meters ahead.
Creek's breathing rasped like a broken bellows; each inhale stabbed like a knife in her lungs—
yet her speed did not flag.
The gap between her and Inari locked at four lengths—no longer melting like before.
"Hmph."
Inari kicked again; the flames around her swelled, reaching to incinerate that blue tide outright.
Red and blue—two extremes—
collided through the final hundred, a force that seemed to shake the whole course.
And the line—right there.
Fifty meters. Twenty…
Then—the wire.
"They've hit the line!"
The call exploded across Kyoto Racecourse.
"The Tenno Sho (Spring) crown belongs to—Inari One!!!"
"OOOOOOOOOOHH—!!!"
The stands erupted to their feet, applause rolling as the new long-distance queen was proclaimed.
Beyond the finish—
Paf!
Creek dropped to her knees on the turf, blades of green sticking to her.
She possessed the greatest long-distance gift of the era—
and yet she had almost never finished spent like this.
That alone proved how fierce this race had been.
The blue girl lifted her head a little and squinted at the big screen. Her voice came out rough.
"Only… a length?"
"To open that much in the last hundred…"
Even after she had mined every grain of potential and shattered a limit or two,
Inari still felt… untroubled—able to push again and sling her away.
Suddenly, a small hand appeared before her.
Creek blinked and looked up. Inari smiled down at her, bright as sunlight.
"Can you stand?"
Creek stared at that hand—and that face shining with victory.
The bitterness melted from her chest, replaced by a quiet relief.
"Thanks… Inari-chan."
She smiled, exhausted, took the hand, and rose with surprising ease.
Inari said nothing more.
She turned, faced the roaring crowd, and raised an arm high—claiming a king's glory.
Behind her, the blue in Creek's eyes no longer held defeat—only a deeper light.
Today, I lost. But…
She watched Inari's back, resolve and anticipation flaring in her gaze.
Next time, I'll catch you—your majesty.
In the stands—
Fumino finally eased the fist she'd clenched since the final straight began.
She stared at Creek below, her face full of feeling.
She exhaled softly. "I lost."
Kuroha didn't react; he simply stood first, motioning to the two Mejiro girls beside him.
"Come on. Let's meet them in the tunnel. Creek might barely be able to walk."
Fumino nodded dumbly.
Oddly, the sting of defeat wasn't as sharp as she'd expected.
Then she chided herself:
Fumino, are you treating this as 'only natural'?
How can you get complacent?!
Next time—we win.
All that noise stayed inside. The purple-haired beauty kept her cool mask in place and followed Kuroha out.
(End of Chapter)
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