Central Tracen Academy.
At this hour, most of the horse girls were in the classroom for morning lessons, and the training grounds that were usually so noisy and crowded felt empty and quiet.
"Tap, tap, tap—"
Rhythmic, powerful hoofbeats shattered that quiet.
A blue silhouette shot forward like the wind. On the empty track, it cut through the morning air like a streak of light.
Her smooth brown hair streamed in the wind. The sky-blue eyes that always held a gentle smile were now filled with pure, undiluted focus.
Super Creek.
She drew soft breaths, syncing her breathing and her strides to their most perfect rhythm, feeling the wind slip past her ears, feeling every push off the ground translate into a surge of power.
She immersed herself in this rhythm that belonged only to her, racing across the vast track with nothing else in her heart.
In her mind, the image of this afternoon's Nakayama Racecourse was crystal clear, along with the blindingly brilliant silhouettes that would step onto the track with her.
Fujimasa March, Inari One, Oguri Cap… and Mejiro Ardan and Sakura Chiyono O.
Every name represented the current summit of Central.
Today's Arima Kinen…
Super Creek gave a bitter little smile in her heart.
More than anyone, she understood just how slim her chances were to fight her way to victory from the hands of those "monsters" with her current condition and strength.
It could even be said that she practically had no chance of winning at all.
"But…"
A flash of resolve ran through her blue eyes. She dug her hooves into the ground and kicked off hard, her speed climbing another notch.
"…I won't give up."
Even if there was only one chance in ten thousand, she would run all the way to the end and lay everything she had on this track.
That was her pride as a racehorse girl, and it was also how she answered everyone who supported her.
As she ran, she suddenly remembered the nickname that had been spreading around the academy lately for the Chasing Light team.
"The Demon King's Army."
With trainer Kuroha at the head, his stable was full of "Demon King–class" horse girls who shattered common sense and trampled records.
Everyone else among the top contenders had, by contrast, been lumped together as the "Commoners' Army."
The corners of Super Creek's mouth curled in a faint, self-mocking smile.
There was a time when she herself had been one of those seen as "the strongest," a towering wall others had to challenge.
She hadn't expected the tables to turn so quickly.
"So I actually ended up as the 'righteous' challenger to the Demon King one day, huh…"
She gave her head a small shake, throwing those thoughts out of her mind.
"But that's not so bad either."
"If you're playing the role of the 'righteous side,' then you've got to act like the 'righteous side.'"
The blue silhouette accelerated once more, running straight into the rising sun and carving a firm, beautiful line across the empty track.
…
Beside the track.
Naise Fumino was quietly watching Super Creek's figure, but her gaze felt unfocused, drifting somewhere far away.
"She really is an excellent kid."
A slightly hoarse male voice sounded next to her without any warning.
Fumino's body tensed. She didn't need to turn her head to know who it was.
Her father, Naise Hideto.
"…"
Fumino said nothing. She simply refocused her eyes on the track, as if that were enough to shut out his presence.
For this man, she still held the bare minimum respect owed by blood ties, yet deep in her heart there was a nameless disgust she could never quite put into words.
Hideto didn't seem to mind his daughter's coldness.
Hands in his pockets, he stood shoulder to shoulder with her, also watching the blue figure tearing around the track. His tone carried genuine admiration.
"Even after suffering several defeats, she can bounce back so quickly. In both body and mind, she's a world-class competitor."
"Tch."
Fumino's expression darkened. "What are you doing here?"
"An anniversary."
"…Huh?!"
Hideto added in a flat tone, "Last month's Japan Cup was the first time the two of us, as father and daughter, each led our own teams into a G1 together."
"So…"
His hand went to the pocket over his chest. He was just about to take out a restaurant voucher, an invitation he had prepared.
"I don't want to talk about the Japan Cup."
Fumino cut him off coldly.
In that race, her Super Creek had been crushed. It was a scar she did not want touched.
"…"
Hideto's hand, halfway to pulling out the invitation, froze. A moment later he let out a barely audible sigh.
"You don't want to talk about it?" He sounded genuinely puzzled.
"It was…"
"The race was lost. That's all it was." Fumino's voice turned icy.
"What an extreme way of thinking…"
He spoke bluntly. "So you only look at the result. Is that why you've grown afraid of losing? Afraid of facing that sense of powerlessness?"
"…"
Fumino fell silent, unable to find a reply.
She hadn't gone to see Kuroha in a long time.
Loss after loss, battle after battle, every fight turning into another defeat.
For someone as proud as she was, even facing Kuroha had started to feel shameful.
Afraid of losing?
Maybe.
Afraid of facing that powerlessness?
Fumino thought of that feeling that had suddenly surfaced before the Arima Kinen:
"If we're going to lose for sure anyway, what's the point of entering?"
"Do you want to soak in a pretty little dream of winning without having to fight?"
Watching his daughter at his side, Hideto frowned.
As one of the very few Central trainers who had actually taken horses overseas to compete, he had a clearer view than most of how rotten Central's current state really was.
"If you keep running in races that no one strong will enter, dodging the monsters and taking 'honors' that fall into your lap… will that really make you proud?"
"…Haah."
Fumino let out a slow breath. "What are you actually trying to say?"
"What I'm saying is, the result isn't everything. For us trainers, the important part is the process. The result is nothing more than the most straightforward outcome, that's all."
The words were like a sharp needle, stabbing straight into the softest part of Fumino's heart.
If the result wasn't everything…
Then what did all the achievements she had spent her whole life chasing and sacrificing for even mean?
And that light, airy "process" he spoke of… what was that supposed to be?
Anger and grievance surged up in her chest all at once.
Hideto nodded to himself, feeling he had made his point clear. His hand once again, almost unconsciously, reached for the pocket over his heart, where that restaurant invitation waited.
"Anyway…"
"If you came here just to say that, then you can go." Fumino cut him off again.
The violet-haired beauty's voice was frozen solid, devoid of any warmth.
"?"
Hideto looked at her, confused. Had he said something wrong again?
"It's working hours right now." Fumino's voice rang out once more, like a final ultimatum. "Please leave at once."
Hideto's movements stopped.
He looked at his daughter for a long, deep moment. In those eyes that always seemed so careless, something complicated and impossible to name flashed by.
In the end, he said nothing. He simply drew his hand back out of his pocket, turned around, and walked away in silence.
Left behind was Fumino, standing alone, quietly watching Super Creek's figure on the track.
After a moment, she exhaled slowly.
"Running away from the strong, huh?"
"Neither I nor Creek have ever run away from anyone, you bastard."
"Today, even if we end up as Kuroha's stepping stone, even if we're just side characters carved into history—"
"We'll still prove it to everyone."
"We will never give up."
…
Afternoon, Nakayama Racecourse.
A fine rain fell from the gray sky, and faint snakes of lightning coiled in the clouds. A formless pressure spread through the air, as if declaring that today would be different.
"Ladies and gentlemen, viewers watching from your televisions, welcome to—"
"—Nakayama Racecourse!!!!"
(End of Chapter)
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