Chapter 63. The Necessary Endurance
After entering the gate, Shuta An felt a measure of composure. Gate five—an odd-numbered stall—gave him marginal spatial freedom. He turned his head slightly, assessing both flanks.
In gate four stood Iide Satan, a familiar rival from the first two Classics. That horse had even ventured into the Takarazuka Kinen after the Derby, finishing a distant tenth—ambitious, if nothing else. In gate six was Machikane Hiodoshi, meeting Tokai Teio for the first time in this Kikuka Sho.
The betting board reflected inevitability.
Tokai Teio stood at 1.1 odds.
Overwhelming favorite.
"He'll be marked," Shuta An concluded. But that was a constant variable. Any race he entered would draw pressure. There was no strategic novelty in being hunted.
The second choice was Ibuki Maikagura in gate eight. Despite her loss to Nice Nature in the Kyoto Shimbun Hai—where Nice Nature had carried strong form from the Kokura Kinen—most analysts treated it as variance rather than regression. Ibuki retained market confidence.
Third favorite: Nice Nature. Two graded victories—Kokura Kinen and Kyoto Shimbun Hai—had established him as a legitimate threat. Trainer Matsumoto Shoichi had explicitly warned Shuta An to monitor him positioning.
Fourth: Leo Durban. Derby runner-up. The margin to first had been significant, but second place in a Classic retained symbolic weight.
All eighteen starters loaded.
Track staff cleared the gates.
The metal doors snapped open.
Tokai Teio broke sharply—no cue required.
Shuta immediately stabilized his posture, lowering his center of gravity and scanning for velocity distribution across the field. He chose restraint, guiding him into mid-pack.
"Stay within the leading cluster. Wait," he murmured, hands steady, eliminating extraneous motion.
Tokai Teio, meanwhile, had already decided on a front-oriented rhythm for this Twinkle Series campaign. But this was 3000 meters. A domain outside her historical memory.
She would not repeat the kind of tactical error that had undone King Halo in the Derby.
Mid-pack until the final straight.
That was her internal doctrine.
And since the rider on her back was, in essence, the Trainer her subconscious had constructed, their tactical alignment should be perfect.
We are synchronized.
Her confidence rose.
—
They entered the first turn in eighth position, bracketed by Leo Durban and Shako Grade.
Shuta An remained unmoved.
Over 2000 meters remained.
Leo Durban held the inside. If Yukio Okabe intended to obstruct acceleration lanes, it would require a degree of recklessness incompatible with his reputation. Causing interference to an undefeated two-crown would ignite public backlash. Moreover, both Shuta An and Yutaka Take were high-visibility promotional figures within JRA strategy. No veteran jockey would risk such optics.
But Shuta An was projecting unnecessarily.
Okabe was focused solely on his own mount.
Exiting the second turn, they entered the grandstand straight.
The noise detonated.
The stands roared with layered anticipation, a wall of sound compressing the air itself. Shuta An tightened his grip fractionally, concerned that Tokai Teio—after a layoff—might respond impulsively to the surge of energy.
Instead, his ears flicked forward.
She was enjoying it. 'So this is what it feels like—to chase an undefeated Triple Crown as an undefeated Two Crown.'
Exhilaration sharpened her stride.
Noticing the subtle change in muscle tone beneath him, Shuta An shifted the reins to his left hand and gently stroked his hind neck with his right.
Calm down.
In the stands, Matsumoto Shoichi's knuckles whitened.
Is he getting excited? Will he move too soon?
He could only pray.
Even without hearing him, Shuta An understood the camp's anxiety. But internally, he relaxed.
His biological clock tracked sectional timing.
First 1000 meters: 62.7 seconds.
Exceptionally slow.
If Yoshiji Muramoto continued to ration pace at the front, energy conservation would compound.
"Maintain," Shuta An told himself.
Tokai Teio needed no persuasion. She conserved effortlessly.
One lap remains. Premature acceleration would be tactical suicide.
Entering the third turn, Shuta An still withheld action.
Then he noticed it.
Leo Durban was shifting outward. Yukio Okabe was advancing.
The move was deliberate—testing tempo.
"What are you attempting?" Shuta An narrowed his eyes. An opening presented itself ahead, an inviting corridor. He resisted. Filling that gap would alter metabolic expenditure curves prematurely.
He held position.
Behind him, however, Nice Nature and Masahiro Matsunaga interpreted the hesitation differently.
They accelerated.
Nice Nature swept past Tokai Teio, claiming forward ground.
Okabe's lips curved slightly as he glanced sideways.
A silent challenge.
Let's see whether pride overrides patience.
Yukio Okabe was doing it deliberately.
As the principal jockey of Symboli Rudolf, he understood long-distance physiology. In his judgment, Tokai Teio's stamina ceiling could not replicate his father's. The feint—advancing outward, threatening tempo—was a calculated provocation. If Teio responded prematurely, his aerobic balance would fracture before the decisive phase.
A trap.
But the consciousness inhabiting Tokai Teio was not bound by conventional assumptions.
She saw through it instantly.
So that's your plan.
She refused the bait.
I will maintain my most efficient cadence. Provocation is irrelevant. Victory is the objective.
Still, she quietly resolved that once she secured this Kikuka Sho, she would remember this maneuver.
—
They exited the fourth bend, passed the start-finish line, and entered the back straight.
The lead changed hands—not through aggression, but attrition. Yoshiji Muramoto's mount began to fade; Iide Satan's stamina reserves had thinned. Naosuke Sugai, aboard Hokusei Ciboulette, inherited the front without altering tempo.
The pace remained controlled.
For Shuta An, this was ideal. A slow sectional distribution meant glycogen conservation. The race would compress into the final straight—a 400-plus meter anaerobic test.
Exactly the scenario he preferred.
Only Okabe seemed to grasp the full implications. Yet he could not counter without sacrificing Leo Durban's winning probability. Forcing him to accelerate would require self-destructive initiative.
In the stands, Yutaka Take—suspended following interference aboard Mejiro McQueen in the Tenno Sho (Autumn)—watched carefully.
He leaned toward Matsumoto Shoichi.
"If nothing unexpected occurs," he said quietly, "Ann-san has already secured this."
Owner Uchimura Masanori turned sharply. "You've seen something?"
"Ann intends to move in the final 400 meters," Take replied. "Muramoto and Sugai are rationing pace due to stamina concerns. The overall time will be slow. That favors Ann."
He hesitated.
"However—he appears more conservative than I expected. Normally, he would assert control earlier."
Matsumoto Shoichi's brow tightened.
"Does that mean—Shuta-kun has never truly trusted Teio's distance adaptability?"
Uchimura's expression shifted.
Yutaka Take raised his hands quickly. "No. He's riding this way to maximize winning probability."
The owner stared at the big screen.
"He never said he doubted his stamina—"
Take suppressed a sigh. Some truths were technical assessments, not conversations to have before a Classic.
—
On track, Shuta An knew nothing of the VIP tension.
He and Tokai Teio approached the final bend.
They had already crossed Yodo Slope. Teio's respiration pattern remained stable. Muscular response remained elastic.
Sufficient reserves.
But he refused to gain ground on the downhill. The risk-reward ratio was unfavorable.
That decision meant compressing the entire execution—position gain, lane shift, acceleration, and full sprint—into the final 400 meters.
High difficulty.
Zero hesitation.
He trusted his acceleration profile absolutely—distance adaptability excluded.
The thought flickered briefly: Next year's Spring Tenno Sho at 3200 meters would be untenable against Mejiro McQueen. But at 2400 meters or less, he would be superior.
The Kikuka Sho was still unfolding, yet strategic forecasting never stopped.
—
Halfway through the bend, Okabe committed.
"I don't care what Tokai Teio does. This is optimal timing."
He drove Leo Durban forward with decisive push-riding.
After 2600 meters, he calculated, Teio would lack sufficient anaerobic capacity to overhaul a decisive move in the final 400.
Leo Durban responded instantly—efficient, obedient, powerful. He swept past Fujiyama Kenzan, Shako Grade, and Vraie Etoile in rapid succession.
Fourth place.
Closing on Hokusei Ciboulette.
The commentator's voice rose.
"Leo Durban is first to move! He's already fourth and challenging the leader!"
Then—
"Shuta An and Tokai Teio still haven't made a move! They're waiting!"
In the grandstands, anxiety spread.
Most had come to witness the coronation of an undefeated Triple Crown.
What if—
What if this hesitation proves fatal?
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