Chapter 48. 1992 Japanese Derby of the Dream World
Rice Shower being only the tenth favorite in this Japanese Derby did not surprise Shuta An in the slightest.
Although his pedigree clearly leaned toward long-distance races, his actual performance trajectory told a story that made many hesitate. He had started from a 1000-meter turf race, and only step by step had he managed to extend his range to 2000 meters. In the eyes of most observers, his third-place finish in the Satsuki Sho was less a reflection of his own strength, and more the result of Shuta An squeezing every last ounce of potential from his in the final stretch.
On top of that, the three prep races leading into the Derby had all produced strong winners, each carrying considerable momentum into this stage. Among them, the Aoba Sho winner stood out even more—with Oka Junichiro in the saddle, a name that naturally commanded attention.
"He's being underestimated," Trainer Iizuka Yoshitsugu said quietly, his gaze fixed on the track as he spoke to Rice Shower's owner. There was a faint tension in his voice, but also expectation.
"I just hope Shuta-kun can show them what they're missing."
"Or perhaps—they're questioning his condition," the owner replied with a helpless sigh.
"After all, he didn't race between the Satsuki Sho and the Derby. It's only natural they'd doubt his readiness."
At this point in time, such doubts were common. In later years, it would sound almost unreasonable—why run another race after already securing a Derby ticket?
But in this era, inserting an extra race like the NHK Mile Cup between the Satsuki Sho and the Derby was not unusual. If not for Shuta An's firm opposition, Rice Shower might have taken that path as well.
In the end, that decision had been overturned.
And now, everything would be decided here.
—
As Rice Shower stepped onto the track, his condition was immediately evident.
His ears flicked lightly, his head bobbing with restrained excitement, his entire body carrying a quiet energy that spoke of readiness. There was no sign of sluggishness, no hesitation—only focus.
As Shuta An guided his along the straight opposite the stands, preparing to circle back toward the starting gate, the commentator's voice echoed across the venue.
"Gate 13, the tenth favorite, Rice Shower. In the saddle—last year's champion jockey and current leading jockey with 91 wins, Shuta An."
The guest commentator followed without delay.
"To be honest, Rice Shower's low popularity is surprising. His synergy with Shuta-kun is excellent, and given his third-place finish in the Satsuki Sho, while winning may be difficult, a top-three finish would not be unexpected."
"Perhaps it's because of the strong contenders emerging between the Satsuki Sho and the Derby," the main commentator added. "Also, Rice Shower's body weight has dropped. While that isn't necessarily negative, at 430 kilograms, he is the lightest in the field. Under those circumstances, it's understandable he isn't heavily favored."
There was a brief pause before the tone shifted.
"But one thing cannot be ignored—Shuta-kun's ability. If that is underestimated due to factors surrounding Rice Shower, it may come at a cost."
—
Those words did not fall on deaf ears.
Kojima Sadahiro heard them clearly, and more importantly, he took them seriously.
"There must be a reason the trainer told me to be cautious of Rice Shower…"
A faint tension crept into his thoughts.
"Am I really inferior to Shuta An?"
He tightened his grip unconsciously.
"This is the Derby. I can't afford even the slightest carelessness."
—
Both Rice Shower and Mihono Bourbon, drawn in the outer gates, entered early.
Inside the starting gate, the atmosphere tightened instantly. The noise from the stands seemed distant, muffled, as if separated by a thin veil. What remained was a dense, suffocating stillness.
Almost instinctively, Shuta An and Kojima Sadahiro turned their heads at the same time, their gazes meeting for only a brief moment.
Kojima was the first to look away.
He leaned forward slightly, adjusting his posture, already preparing for the instant the gates would open. As the top favorite, burdened with overwhelming expectations, the pressure on him was immense.
Shuta An noticed it immediately.
A faint smile touched his lips before he turned his gaze forward again.
"He's under pressure—as expected for the Derby," he thought calmly. "But it's not enough to make him falter."
He had no illusions about that.
Even from the outermost gate, Mihono Bourbon had the qualities of a natural front-runner. As long as he broke cleanly, the long opening straight at Tokyo Racecourse would give Kojima more than enough time to seize the lead.
And once he did—replicating Ines Fujin's strategy would not be difficult.
"When the front-runner is also the top favorite…" Shuta An narrowed his eyes slightly, recalling a familiar figure. "Most jockeys won't dare to challenge his/her pace. Especially in the Derby, where everyone wants to avoid mistakes."
Which meant the race would likely settle into a controlled rhythm.
A slow pace.
His gaze lowered slightly toward Rice Shower beneath him.
"In that case—"
A thought surfaced—and once it appeared, it refused to leave.
"Should I take the front as well?"
The idea grew stronger the more he examined it. Piece by piece, the logic aligned.
If the pace slowed too much, relying solely on a late burst would become increasingly disadvantageous. The gap created early on would be difficult to close, no matter how sharp the final sprint.
No. That wouldn't work this time.
—
All eighteen runners had entered the gates.
The air tightened further, every second stretching thin.
Shuta An exhaled quietly, letting all stray thoughts fall away.
His focus narrowed completely.
The gate.
—
The moment approached.
And just before the gates fully opened—Rice Shower had yet to react.
But Shuta An had already moved. His hand pressed forward decisively, urging his neck with precise force.
In the next instant, Rice Shower responded. His body surged forward, stride extending explosively as he burst out of the gate.
—
Fifty meters into the race, the expected pattern unfolded.
Mihono Bourbon surged ahead, cleanly taking the lead.
But unlike before—
Rice Shower did not fall back.
Under Shuta An's firm urging, he broke free from Mermaid Tavern and Hokusetsu Ginga, accelerating into position just two lengths behind Mihono Bourbon.
The commentator's voice rose, tinged with surprise.
"This time, Shuta An has not chosen to fall back! Instead, he decisively positions Rice Shower behind Mihono Bourbon! Is this a response to the Satsuki Sho, where he allowed too much distance to open?"
"I believe he's anticipating a slower pace," the guest commentator added. "By moving forward, he's trading some of Rice Shower's late burst for positioning. Considering his finishing speed in the Satsuki Sho, this may not be a disadvantage at all."
—
Inside the race, Shuta An had already completed that calculation.
"The baseline target is second place," he thought steadily. "I cannot allow Mihono Bourbon to dictate the race uncontested."
The others—
He did not ignore them.
But they were not the focus.
What mattered was the one in front.
"I trust his stamina."
As Rice Shower entered the first bend, his control remained precise, adjusting his rhythm subtly without disrupting his flow.
"Tokyo may favor closers but not in a race like this."
He guided his line carefully, making full use of the track's curvature.
"If the pace slows too much, then taking initiative becomes necessary."
Then, using the bend, he glanced back. The gap was clear.
Mermaid Tavern. Hokusetsu Ginga.
Both had already fallen more than a length behind.
Good. Everything was unfolding exactly as he intended.
"Next, the 1000-meter split." His gaze sharpened slightly.
"I'll calculate it." A brief pause passed in his thoughts, calm and precise. "If Mihono Bourbon keeps it at 62 seconds… or even slower…"
A faint smile appeared, quiet yet unwavering.
"then this race won't be as one-sided as they think."
However, the moment Mihono Bourbon crossed the 1000-meter marker, Shuta An's estimation settled quickly.
"Around 61 seconds."
A faint crease formed between his brows.
"It seems Kojima Sadahiro held on in the end—he didn't let the pressure push him into a reckless pace."
There was a trace of disappointment in his thoughts, subtle but real.
"I was hoping there'd be a chance to fish in troubled waters…"
At this kind of tempo—neither truly fast nor slow, but leaning toward controlled restraint—the race had already begun to take shape in a way that favored the one in front.
And as the rhythm stabilized, Shuta An noticed something else.
The gap behind him was still widening.
Rice Shower maintained his position just behind Mihono Bourbon, but Mermaid Tavern and Hokusetsu Ginga, who had been closest earlier, were now gradually falling further back. The distance between them stretched almost imperceptibly at first, then more clearly with each stride.
Which meant—
"They haven't realized it."
A quiet conclusion surfaced in his mind. The trailing group had misread the pace. To them, Mihono Bourbon was still running at a "normal" Derby rhythm, just as he had in previous races. No one seemed to recognize that the tempo had been deliberately restrained.
Shuta An exhaled softly, a hint of helplessness surfacing.
There was nothing he could do about it.
He couldn't exactly turn around mid-race and shout a reminder to his opponents. Even if he could maintain the balance required to do so at racing speed—which, admittedly, he could—the consequences would be immediate. The URA Association would undoubtedly issue a penalty afterward for not taking the race seriously.
A "lax ride."
And even if he were penalized, he wouldn't have the face to appeal it.
"So be it."
The thought settled.
All he could do now was accept the situation and make the most of it.
With a quiet, almost resigned clarity, Shuta An adjusted his grip on the reins, allowing himself to ride within the advantage Mihono Bourbon had unknowingly provided—while preparing for what lay ahead.
Originally, he had considered urging Rice Shower forward, closing the gap to apply pressure.
But now—that plan dissolved.
"If I move up now, I'd only be helping her."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"With this pace, Mihono Bourbon is conserving far more stamina than expected."
A slow, controlled race meant he would have ample reserves when the real battle began.
"You can't have both," he thought calmly. "This is the price for reading the rhythm first."
His fingers tightened around the reins, the leather creaking softly under his grip.
For a fleeting moment, an unexpected thought surfaced.
"Teio would enjoy this kind of race."
The image of Tokai Teio, currently resting comfortably at the ranch, drifted through his mind—almost enough to make him feel nostalgic.
—
As they approached the third bend, Shuta An cast another glance behind.
The field had changed.
Mermaid Tavern and Hokusetsu Ginga were no longer the closest pursuers. In their place were Wish Dream from Shadai Racehorse Club and Narita Taisei, the runner-up from the Satsuki Sho.
"They couldn't even hold on for two-thirds of the race."
A faint irritation flickered through his thoughts.
"If they can't keep up with this pace, why enter the Derby at all?"
He understood, of course.
The Derby was more than just a race—it was a symbol, a pinnacle that every owner, trainer, and jockey wanted to touch. Even a fleeting chance was enough to justify participation.
But from a purely competitive standpoint—
"It's inefficient."
Allowing horses without sufficient distance adaptability onto this stage only diluted the quality of the contest.
"Unfathomable"
The word lingered in his mind. Then, almost unconsciously, his thoughts shifted.
"This time, the Yoshida family honored our agreement—they didn't push me to ride Wish Dream."
There was a certain ease in that. Even if it was just a tacit understanding, having a client who didn't force decisions upon him was a rare comfort.
"I'm lucky."
Compared to that—his impression of the URA Association in the real world was far less favorable.
But that comparison only held for now.
He had already heard the rumors. Yoshida Zenya's time was running out, and when that pillar fell, control would likely pass to Yoshida Teruya. While Teruya had always been polite, their working relationship was distant—nothing like the familiarity he shared with Yoshida Katsumi.
"If things change…"
His thoughts moved calmly, almost analytically.
"I'll just work more closely with Katsumi."
—
By the time Shuta An returned fully to the present, the race had already progressed into the latter half of the final bend.
Mihono Bourbon remained composed.
There was no sign of acceleration.
And Shuta did not press forward either. He kept Rice Shower firmly in check, maintaining the gap without attempting to close it prematurely.
"Kojima Sadahiro isn't doing anything."
The conclusion came naturally, built from continuous observation throughout the race.
"This is Mihono Bourbon's own rhythm."
The pacing. The restraint. The timing.
All of it.
Kojima's role had been limited to the start—to help her break cleanly, to enter race mode.
Beyond that—he simply followed.
"So easy."
A faint pout crossed Shuta An's lips.
This kind of riding—minimizing interference, allowing the horse to act on his own instincts—was a philosophy he was familiar with.
Tahara Seiki's theory.
He could still recall those words, spoken casually over drinks.
"The essence of racing is the horse running. Does a human really understand better than the horse how it should run? If the saddle carried only weight instead of a person, the horse would run even better. The less you interfere, the better the ride."
Shuta An had never fully agreed with that view.
But—in this moment, he couldn't deny its validity.
"For this pair…" His gaze fixed forward. "Kojima Sadahiro is the limiting factor."
The less interference, the more Mihono Bourbon could express his true ability.
Of course, such a style had its risks.
If Mihono Bourbon's instinct faltered—if his judgment wavered—then Kojima might not have the ability to correct it in time. Worse still, even if he made the right call, Mihono Bourbon, accustomed to acting independently, might not respond.
"The Derby may be out of reach…"
The thought came quietly.
"But the Kikuka Sho…"
By then, circumstances would change.
And there would always be those willing to challenge a dominant runner.
—
The final straight opened before them. Mihono Bourbon still held more than a length's advantage.
As they passed the 400-meter marker, Shuta An gave the signal. Rice Shower responded instantly, accelerating forward.
At the same moment, Mihono Bourbon surged as well.
Though Kojima Sadahiro had underestimated Rice Shower before the race, Mihono Bourbon himself had not. He had already sensed the restrained power within his opponent—and now, he responded without hesitation.
The distance began to shift.
Three hundred meters.
Rice Shower gained ground.
But only slightly.
By the time they reached the final stretch, the gap remained—still one horse length.
Shuta An's eyes sharpened.
He felt it.
Rice Shower's stride. It had begun to lose its rhythm.
Subtle, but undeniable.
"I gained less than half a length in 300 meters"
The calculation completed instantly.
"With this remaining distance—pushing harder won't change the result."
He glanced back.
Mayano Petrus, in third, trailed by more than four lengths.
Enough.
Without hesitation, he eased his urging. Not stopping—but no longer forcing.
—
At the moment they crossed the finish line, Shuta An's thoughts settled with quiet certainty.
"The Kikuka Sho…"
A faint exhale left his lips.
"There won't be a problem."
And in that instant, his confidence in Rice Shower solidified completely.