Sodashi stood a few feet away from the celebrating trio, lungs dragging in air that suddenly felt thinner than it had moments ago.
Lunar's laughter rang bright and unrestrained as Invi slung an arm over her shoulders, shaking her playfully despite her own trembling legs. Persian stood at their side, composed as ever, though a faint flush of exertion colored her cheeks and her fingers were still curled from the final push.
Sodashi did not move.
"…I lost…?"
The thought felt ill-fitting in her mind.
She replayed it.
The final corner.
The tightening arc.
The moment she had prepared for—calculated for.
And then—
That silver thread of light.
It was absurd, unreal, like a panel torn straight from a manga—where the protagonist awakens something impossible and the world simply makes their way for them.
For half a heartbeat, she had stared. And in that half a heartbeat—
She had lost focus.
Her jaw tightened. "Tch." The sound was soft, sharp against her teeth. Then the rest of it settled in.
She hadn't even placed second.
That had gone to the other one, the other filly she had dismissed before the race even began. Not yet matured, she had thought.
And yet she had been beaten by both of them. In the same race.
A bitter laugh slipped past her lips. How laughable…
Her gaze dropped to the dirt beneath her feet—the same ground she had claimed as absolute just minutes ago. The same track she knew better than anyone. The same surface she had sworn she would never lose upon.
Two pairs of shoes stepped into her lowered vision.
She looked up.
June stood there, shoulders slumped, chest still rising and falling heavily. Beside her, Mitono fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve, ears drooping in visible guilt.
Mitono spoke first. "Sorry, Soda-chan…" Her voice wavered. "If only we were faster… then you wouldn't have had to fight them by yourself…"
June nodded, jaw tight. "Yeah. You must've burned yourself out early trying to carry us. Your loss was our fault."
Sodashi blinked, then she shook her head. "No, don't blame yourselves."
They froze, startled by the gentle firmness in her tone.
"I lost because I wasn't strong enough," she continued quietly. "That's all there is to it."
Her fingers curled lightly into her palm.
"I underestimated them. And I lacked the strength to hold my lead against Invincible." A faint pause. "That has nothing to do with you two, the fault was mine."
June's eyes widened, while Mitono's shimmered faintly. They looked almost… touched. Teary, even.
Sodashi noticed and she immediately rubbed the back of her neck and turned her face away. "Urgh, don't look at me like that."
Awkwardness crept up her spine, unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
She shifted her gaze elsewhere—
And met crimson eyes.
Invi.
The two locked eyes, a silent exchange between them.
After a few seconds, Invi stepped forward.
Lunar and Persian followed a pace behind her, stopping just short as the distance closed.
Invi halted right in front of Sodashi—close enough that their breaths mingled faintly in the warm air. Close enough that the tension from the race still hummed between them.
Sodashi lifted her chin slightly. Her breathing had steadied, but the faint flush on her cheeks betrayed the effort she had given.
"What is it?" she asked coolly. "Want to rub it in my face?"
For a split second, Invi just stared at her. But then, she raised her hand, palm open in a handshake.
She said simply. "It was a good race."
Sodashi blinked at the unexpected gesture.
Invi scratched the back of her head with her free hand, looking oddly sheepish. "I had a lot of fun. You were strong—like, seriously strong. You made me use pretty much everything I had back there."
There was no sarcasm. No smug curl of her lip. Just plain, simple honesty.
Sodashi stared at the offered hand with an odd look. She had expected prideful remarks, victorious jabs, perhaps maybe a little touch of mockery mixed in in disguise as sportsmanship.
Not this.
There was a small pause before Invi huffed lightly. "And… I'm sorry for being an asshole earlier."
Sodashi's brows lifted a fraction.
"I'm a hothead," Invi admitted bluntly. "I know that. I run my mouth before I think sometimes."
Then a smirk tugged at her lips as a soft laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
It transformed her appearance entirely. The stoic, untouchable beauty cracked—revealing something unexpectedly charming and cute beneath it.
"At least you know it, idiot."
Invi snapped upright. "Hey—!"
But before she could protest further, Sodashi reached out and took her hanging hand. "I forgive you," she said. "And… I'm sorry too."
Their hands clasped, and the sensation made Invi blinked.
Sodashi's hand was smaller than she expected. It was soft, and a little warm, sweats trailing down from the race.
For some reason, that detail lodged itself in her mind.
Then—
A single hand landed on Invi's shoulder, prompting her to turn, which she immediately regretted.
Standing far too close for comfort was More Than Ready, phone camera practically pressed to Invi's face, grin wide and absolutely not innocent.
"Awhhh~ so cute," she cooed. "This can go into the loser compilation too~"
"I did not lose!" Invi yanked her hand back so fast the handshake snapped apart mid-grip.
She lunged for the phone.
More Than Ready merely leaned back with lazy grace, pivoting on her heel as Invi's fingers grasped nothing but air.
"And you did not win either," More Than Ready sang sweetly, lifting the phone higher. "Sounds like a loser to me~"
"I tied for third!" Invi barked, swiping again.
"Exactly~"
"Give me that—!"
More Than Ready slipped sideways, dodging with effortless footwork that suggested she was enjoying this far too much. The phone remained just out of reach, camera still recording Invi's increasingly flustered expression.
Behind them, Sodashi let out a quiet breath through her nose.
She lost to this…
Unbelievable.
A few steps away, Written Tycoon approached Persian.
She did not raise her voice or exaggerate her praises. She simply placed a composed hand atop her daughter's head and gave a single, gentle pat.
"You did well," she said calmly. "Your strategy was flawless."
Persian's shoulders relaxed at once.
To anyone else, she appeared unchanged—but her eyes softened, and a small, deeply content smile appeared.
Nearby, Lunar lingered awkwardly for a moment, hands clasped loosely in front of her. She glanced toward Aunt More teasing Invi, then to Persian receiving her quiet commendation, and finally toward the three academy runners standing together.
After a brief hesitation, she stepped forward and dipped into a small, respectful bow.
"It was a really fun race," she said, still slightly breathless but smiling brightly. "Thank you, senpais."
Mitono immediately brightened at her politeness. "Ah—you were amazing! Congratulations~" she blurted, almost melting at how cute Lunar looked up close.
June gave a firm nod, accepting the bow with quiet dignity. "Your running was superb, it was definitely earned."
Sodashi said nothing, she only studied Lunar carefully.
Up close, she looked almost ordinary again. The golden light in her eyes was gone. No silver shimmer trailed behind her. No impossible aura warped the air around her.
Had she imagined it?
No.
She had seen it.
That silver thread of light slicing past her shoulder. It was unreal, it was domineering, and most of all it was beautiful enough to steal her focus for a fatal second that costed her.
Sodashi parted her lips as she gathered the confidence to ask. "At the corner—"
"LUNAAAAAR—!!"
The shout tore through the air like an explosion.
Saiya, Namawa, and Anonym descended upon Lunar like a natural disaster. The three of them crashed into her in a chaotic group hug, nearly knocking her clean off her feet.
"You were SO COOL—!"
"That last corner was insane!!"
"Teach me how to accelerate like that later…"
"W-Wait— I can't breathe—!" Lunar's laughter dissolved into helpless wheezing as they squeezed her tighter.
Sodashi's question dissolved into the noise, she clicked her tongue softly at the lost opportunity. The moment had slipped through her fingers.
From the stands, Black Caviar watched the scene with quiet fondness. Autumn Sun stood beside her, gaze warm and thoughtful as she observed the girls below.
Black Caviar shifted slightly when she felt a presence approach from her right.
It was Principal Sato and Tazuna, walking by his side. She had noticed that they had been glued together since the race began.
Black Caviar's eyes flickered between them for half a second. …They must have met before.
Principal Sato stopped at a respectful distance, his expression indicating that whatever he was about to say, there would be no playfulness around it.
"You are truly terrifying," he said. "Wonder From Down Under."
His eyes carried the lingering afterimage of the race. "Even your children are wonders themselves."
He recalled the explosive force Invi generated from such a young body that is still growing, the sheer strain it should have caused due to how reckless it was, yet she wielded it successfully anyway.
Then there was Persian's intelligence, her patience. How flawless it was executed by such a youngster with a tactical mind sharp enough to outmaneuver nearly everyone on the field.
Except for….
His gaze shifted toward Lunar, who was currently being crushed under a three-way victory hug. Something unreadable flickered in his eyes.
Black Caviar followed his line of sight. For a moment, her expression softened.
"My daughters' abilities are theirs," she said calmly. "I take no credit for what they are capable of."
Her tone was final, though neither proud nor dismissive.
"I do what any parent should," she continued. "Provide intensive training. Proper guidance. A solid foundation." Her arms folded lightly beneath her chest. "What they build upon that foundation is entirely their own."
Principal Sato shook his head slowly. "You are far too humble for your stature."
She did not respond to that.
Silence lingered between them for a few seconds, filled only by the distant cheers and laughter below.
He spoke again. "Are you… planning to take care of Lunar forever?"
Her eyes returned to him, sharper now.
"As in," he clarified carefully, "officially adopting her into your family?"
The air shifted.
The warmth that had lingered around her cooled into something more solemn. "If that is Lunar's wish," Black Caviar said without hesitation, "then I will do so."
There was no wavering in her voice.
Principal Sato stroked his beard thoughtfully. "And if her wish," he continued slowly, "is to stay here?"
Black Caviar's brows knit faintly.
"To have someone here take care of her," he went on, "so she may remain close… and visit her mother often?"
The words landed heavier than expected.
For the first time since the race began—Black Caviar was stunned into silence.
Leaving Lunar behind?
The thought felt foreign. Almost impossible to conceptualize. Lunar had been under her care. Under her watch. Under her training.
The idea of returning home without her—It created a hollow space she had not anticipated.
Autumn Sun, who had been quiet until now, glanced sideways at her. Their eyes met briefly as she offered a small, gentle smile, and then—a faint nod.
Black Caviar inhaled quietly. When she turned back to Principal Sato, her expression was composed again—but softer.
"If that is what would make Lunar happy," she said, voice lower now, "then I would let it be."
The words cost her more than she allowed to show.
Principal Sato studied her for a long moment before he nodded once. "I can see why she entrusted Lunar to you."
Black Caviar's eyes flickered slightly at that, but as she was about to say something back—-Principal Sato lifted two fingers to his mouth and gave a sharp, piercing whistle.
The sound tore across the field, loud enough to cut through laughter, chatter, and celebration all at once, even Black Caviar startled slightly at the sudden blast of noise.
On the track, heads snapped toward the stands. Principal Sato lowered his hand and called out, voice carrying with authority. "Everyone—get over here!"
The energy shifted immediately as everyone scattered around the field began making their way toward the front of the grandstand., conversations and laughter dying mid-sentence.
Within moments, a crowd had formed before Principal Sato. He waited until the last of them settled.
"First," he began, his voice carrying clearly without the need to shout, "thank you all for the enthusiasm you have shown today."
His gaze swept across the crowd.
"And especially," he continued, "to these six young runners—who stepped forward and gave their all."
He extended an arm.
"To the runners earlier, please line up here." he instructed as he pointed right to the front of the crowd.
The six runners stepped forward.
On the right side—
Invi stood with her arms folded, chin tilted stubbornly upward despite the faint flush still clinging to her cheeks from her earlier scuffles. Lunar stood beside her, looking relaxed despite her triumph, offering small sheepish smiles to anyone who made eye contact. Persian stood on Lunar's other side, head resting on the shorter girl's shoulder, expression serene and content.
Opposite them—
Sodashi stood straight, her silky white hair settling gently against her shoulders. Mitono hovered slightly behind her, hands fidgeting together and tails going from side to side. June, meanwhile, looked seconds away from collapsing, her legs visibly trembling from exhaustion as she tried to maintain a dignified stance.
"Let's give them one more round of applause," Principal Sato said.
The clapping came loud and full to the point it echoed across the field and up into the stands.
Lunar and June blinked at the sheer volume, startled by how overwhelming it felt. Mitono's eyes shimmered dangerously close to tears. Invi stiffened, doing her absolute best to look unaffected—though the corner of her mouth twitched upward despite her efforts while Persian closed her eyes briefly, breathing in the sound as if committing it to memory.
Even Sodashi felt it—the warmth of acknowledgment washing over the sting of defeat.
When the applause finally died down, Principal Sato nodded.
"Now. According to the rules—"
A few students tensed instinctively.
"—since Lunar claimed first place, the victor of this race is the Visitor's Team."
A small collective deflation rippled through part of the academy crowd. Shoulders slumped. A few groans escaped.
Someone muttered, "It was not even close…"
Principal Sato raised a finger. "But!"
The word snapped attention back instantly.
"Do not take this loss as proof that you are weak."
He turned slightly and extended his arm to his right—toward the tall, dark-haired mare watching calmly.
"Since I know many of you barely open your textbooks," he said dryly, "allow me to enlighten you."
A few guilty coughs broke out from the crowd.
"The fillies your comrades just faced," he continued, "are the children of Australia's greatest ever Uma Musume."
A pause.
"The undefeated mare."
Another pause.
"With twenty-five consecutive victories under her belt."
His voice sharpened with emphasis.
"Black Caviar!"
The name dropped like a stone into water.
A large portion of the students practically jumped in shock. Whispers erupted instantly, spreading like wildfire through dry grass.
"She's undefeated—!"
"Twenty-five wins?!"
"That's insane—"
"Those were all her daughters?!"
On the stands, Black Caviar released a soft, amused huff.
Ah… he's using my name to motivate them.
How cunning.
The faintest curve touched her lips as she watched the ripple of shock spread through the academy students below.
On the field, Sodashi's gaze slowly lifted. It settled on Black Caviar.
Greatest. Undefeated. Greatest. Undefeated, Greatest. Undefeated. Greatest. Undefeated.
The words looped in her mind as a quiet realization crept in. She had brushed off such a monster so casually.
Black Caviar wasn't just some average graded veteran, she was practically a living legend, and Sodashi had stood there—cold, dismissive—without even recognizing the terror of the name in front of her.
A bitter heat crept into her chest, further enhancing the feeling of shame clouding her mind. It was not because of the loss, nor the fact that she hadn't even placed second. It was because of her misplaced arrogance.
Mitono blinked as Sodashi suddenly moved. "S-Soda-chan…?"
June straightened in confusion as Sodashi walked past them both without a word. The girl stopped at the base of the stands, directly in front of Black Caviar.
Sodashi then bowed, deeply so. It was a bow not meant out of politeness or a shallow tilt of respect.
This was a full, formal bow—spine straight, head lowered to the lowest it can be without looking silly.
"I owe you all an apology," she said, her voice clear despite the tremor buried deep within it. "For my earlier conduct."
Gasps spread through the field like wind through tall grass.
Sodashi—proud, distant, immaculate Sodashi—was bowing.
"I spoke without knowing who you were," she continued. "And I allowed my arrogance to dictate my behavior toward you and your family."
Her hands clenched lightly at her sides, knuckles whitening.
"That was unbecoming of me."
A breath.
"I am sorry."
On the stand, Black Caviar blinked once—genuinely caught off guard, she hadn't expected this, not from a girl whose pride had been as visible as her snow-white hair.
Then her expression softened. "It's alright," she replied immediately, her voice calm and warm. "I did not take it to heart, nor did anyone else."
She moved closer and gently placed her hands on Sodashi's shoulders. "Lift your head."
There was no force in it—just quiet insistence.
Sodashi hesitated, then slowly straightened as Black Caviar met her blue eyes directly, words leaving her mouth carefully. "...Try to keep an open mind," she said. "And be more confident in yourself."
The white-haired girl froze slightly at the remark.
"There is no need to feel self-conscious about who you are," Black Caviar continued. "From what I saw today—your speed, your composure, your drive under pressure and challenge…"
A faint smile touched her lips. "I believe you have the potential to become something truly great, so keep your head up."
Sodashi's blue eyes widened.The words hit differently than simple applause or encouragement from audiences or peers.
If someone as strong as Black Caviar says that she believes in me….
Then what excuse do I have to doubt myself?
The tightness in her chest loosened—just a little, a quiet determination replacing the shame.
As this is happening, Invi leaned slightly toward Lunar and Persian, muttering under her breath. "Be more confident?" she whispered. "Doesn't she already have plenty of that?"
Lunar tilted her head. "Yeah... I thought she was super confident…"
"…It might not be the kind you all think, it is"
All three nearly jumped out of their skin.
Autumn Sun was suddenly standing right behind them, a gentle smile resting on her face as if she had been there the entire time.
"Wha— since when were you there, Aunt Autumn?!" Invi hissed.
Autumn Sun only chuckled softly. "Look at Sodashi," she said instead. "When you first see her, what stands out?"
The three of them squinted toward Sodashi, though Persian answered first.
"Uhm… her hair and tail," she said. "They're really pretty… and super white…?"
"Exactly," Autumn Sun nodded. "The world has always placed stigmas on certain traits, and uma musumes are no exception."
Lunar tilted her head. "What do you mean by that, Aunt Autumn?"
Autumn Sun's smile remained gentle, but there was history behind her eyes now. "You girls know, don't you," she began gently, "that there was a time when grey-haired horses were looked down upon?"
Invi blinked. "That existed?"
"There used to be an old but popular belief," Autumn Sun continued, "that grey horses couldn't race properly. That they were inferior. That they lacked the prowess and strength to keep up with the others."
Lunar instinctively reached up and touched a strand of her own grey hair. "…Yeah! Momma told me that lots," she said. "She said people used to think grey horses weren't suited for running…"
"Is that so?" Autumn Sun's smile widened slightly. "Then you must know who shattered that misconception in Japan."
Lunar perked up immediately, ears twitching with excitement. "Yeah! Oguri Cap!"
"Good job," Autumn Sun praised with a small nod. "Oguri Cap didn't just win, she had dominated her era. And alongside her, there was Tamamo Cross. Their rivalry, their victories—it crushed every doubt placed on every grey-haired uma musumes."
Lunar's eyes shimmered faintly. She knew this story. Her mother had told it more than once.
"Their races weren't just simple races." Autumn San said softly. "Each victory created a path, one that allowed grey-haired Uma Musume to be acknowledged—respected—without question or doubt."
Persian slowly raised her hand as if she were in class.
"Then," she said carefully, "if the topic correlates… what you're implying is that Sodashi, as a white-haired horse, is facing something similar?"
Autumn Sun nodded. "Precisely."
Invi frowned. "But how? White is just… white, right? What does it have to do with anything?"
Autumn Sun's tone shifted—subtle, but firm.
"Did you know," she asked quietly, "that in the entire history of official Uma Musume racing associations—across any country—there has never been a white-haired Uma Musume who has won a G1?"
All three of them froze.
"…What?" Invi said blankly.
"Seriously?" Lunar blinked, ears twitching in disbelief.
Persian's brows drew together. "Statistically… none?"
"None at all," Autumn Sun confirmed gently. "White-haired Uma Musume has always been admired," she continued. "Praised for their beauty, their rarity, their elegance—"
Her gaze drifted toward Sodashi, who stood small and fragile beneath Black Caviar's gigantic presence. "But rarely for their strength."
She exhaled quietly.
"Every white-haired runner who has stepped onto the track has been taken lightly. Their appearance overshadowed their performance. Spectators spoke of how 'pretty' they looked in motion… how 'delicate' they seemed under the sun."
Her tone did not carry anger, only cold, hard truth. "They were seen as something fragile. Something ornamental. Pleasing to the eye."
A faint pause.
"And nothing more."
Invi's expression shifted. The teasing edge she usually carried faded into thoughtfulness.
"That creates a cycle," Autumn Sun explained. "When no one before you has succeeded… when history offers no proof that someone like you can stand at the very top…"
Her voice softened. "Doubt grows."
Lunar looked back and thought about the sharp tongue and icy composure Sodashi had shown prior.
"…So she acts arrogant," Invi muttered quietly in understanding.
"To compensate for it," Persian finished.
Autumn Sun nodded once more.
"A form of armor," she said. "If the world insists you are inferior, you either accept it… or you build yourself into something so untouchable that no one dares say it aloud."
"For modern grey-haired umas, there was an Oguri Cap and a Tamamo Cross to follow. Not to mention the infamous Native Dancer, these were legends who shattered prejudice with results so overwhelming that doubt could not survive in their wake."
She paused.
"They carved a road through resistance with nothing but willpower and victory." She paused. "For white-haired ones… there has been no one."
No legend to point to, no past champions to reassure them. Only a dark, uncharted path where every step forward was a battle against stigmas and expectations.
"And that girl," Autumn Sun concluded softly, "is walking that path alone."