Yasui Makoto hadn't forgotten his earlier intention to have Kitasan Black study these senior Uma Musume—in fact, he'd already sorted out exactly how he'd explain the tactics of those three senpais to his Uma Musume.
At first glance, Seiun Sky's current tactic seemed like a perfect replica of her Kikuka Sho strategy. Yet her acceleration in the third corner clearly revealed this was just a feint.
Her pacing from the opening to mid-race had so closely resembled the "pacing deception" tactic that the other racers inevitably focused too heavily on strategy, overlooking the most basic factor—stamina.
Having already conquered a 3000-meter G1, Seiun Sky's endurance was beyond question.
Thus, maintaining high speed for the first 600 meters of this mere 2000-meter race was nothing for her.
She openly conserved stamina in plain sight, and only now had she exploded into a full sprint.
Of course, such a tactic inevitably invited pursuit—Special Week and Grass Wonder's successive accelerations proved this.
But after excessively focusing on tactics early, they now found themselves scrambling. The pursuers were inevitably forced into position battles among themselves.
Special Week and Grass Wonder, currently caught behind Seiun Sky, had no easy way to close the gap further.
This precise scenario was undoubtedly the timing Seiun Sky had anticipated!
Just like "pacing deception," this tactic was easy to explain—but incredibly difficult to execute in a real race.
By comparison, the strategy of Matikanefukukitaru, another Kikuka Sho winner, was far simpler.
She didn't need to worry about Seiun Sky's plans at all—she just needed to maintain a solid position at all times.
This ensured that, at the critical moment, she could smoothly advance forward, with plenty of stamina and distance available for her final acceleration.
What came next was even simpler.
Maintain steady rhythm. Wait patiently.
Then, exactly as in the Kikuka Sho, hunt down a front-runner.
And not even a front-runner who had fully exhausted herself.
Just that simple.
Mejiro Bright's strategy sat between the complexity of Seiun Sky's and the simplicity of Matikanefukukitaru's.
Unlike Seiun Sky's intricate planning, Mejiro Bright had settled on her closing tactic from the very start. She was the sole closer in this race, meaning no complicated entanglements with others.
What made it more complicated than Matikanefukukitaru's was that at every curve she cleverly conceded some resistance against centrifugal force, continuously drifting outward.
By doing this, she minimized stamina consumption while simultaneously securing an ideal position for the coming corner.
More importantly, edging toward the outer lane step by step, she avoided any positional clashes and could begin her sustained acceleration earlier—a characteristic advantage of long-distance Uma Musume.
At this very moment, she remained untouched by competitors, matching pace evenly with King Halo, Mejiro Dober, and the suddenly explosive Seiun Sky.
Yasui Makoto clearly understood all of this.
But amid the blazing atmosphere, even he was drawn into the frenzy.
His rational analysis collided with the fierce battle unfolding before his eyes, sparking an unprecedented glow in his gaze.
The brilliance burned hot enough to ignite the surrounding air, his eyes locked intensely onto every figure on the track, unwilling to miss a single thrilling moment.
His cheeks flushed from excitement, his breathing became rapid, his chest rising and falling intensely.
He leaned forward slightly, as if ready to dash onto the track himself, joining the running Uma Musume.
Unconsciously, his hands clenched tight, knuckles whitening from the pressure.
When his nails dug painfully into the railing, he instinctively pulled his hand back—and then suddenly grabbed something else beside him.
"Do you see it, Kita-chan?! This is the charm! This is exactly what I've always pursued! They're nowhere near their limit yet—the current level is nowhere near their limit! The ultimate of Uma Musume... is far more extreme than I ever imagined!"
The hand Yasui Makoto had grabbed belonged to Kitasan Black.
Caught off guard, Kitasan Black momentarily froze. Her gaze, previously focused solely on the track, suddenly dropped to their clasped hands.
Entirely beyond her control, a rare flush appeared on her usually carefree face.
Yet, given the feverish atmosphere and her already heated cheeks, the blush looked like nothing more than natural excitement.
Blinking rapidly, she instinctively tried to pull her hand away.
But for some reason, feeling the searing heat radiating from his palm, she hesitated.
Looking up at Yasui Makoto, she saw those familiar eyes weren't looking at her at all—still locked fiercely onto the track, filled with passionate fervor, muttering things like, "Even after retiring, they can still perform at this level," and, "I knew Kita-chan's true limits still haven't been reached."
Hearing her name from that familiar voice, the warmth in her palm intensified slightly, making Kitasan Black inexplicably feel her heartbeat quicken.
An unfamiliar sensation surged within her, and the corners of her lips unconsciously curled into a silly little smile.
She no longer tried to withdraw her hand, allowing Yasui Makoto to grip it tightly, even secretly tightening her grip a bit in return.
The larger hand holding hers didn't respond, but that intense heat unmistakably conveyed his excitement and enthusiasm.
It was just like whenever they talked about Extreme Acrobatics.
Kitasan Black's eyes returned to the track, but her mind drifted elsewhere.
Her trainer's usually mature, composed figure flashed through her mind—replaced quickly by the hot-blooded, youthful face she'd just witnessed. An unfamiliar feeling briefly spread through her heart.
And alongside it, a gradually clearer idea emerged in her mind.
If my limit is what Trainer expects, then next race, and the next race after that...
Her grip unconsciously tightened once more.
Yasui Makoto was oblivious to Kitasan Black's little gestures, her expressions, her returning squeezes.
Eyes unwaveringly fixed on the field now sweeping through the final corner, he had no idea what his continuously muttering mouth was even saying—but he was perfectly clear that the events unfolding before him hadn't disappointed.
From the gate to this moment, the fierce battle had indeed not reached the limit of these Uma Musume.
"Everyone! The final corner is nearly over! There's no need to emphasize further—the racers have all taken their stances for an all-out sprint!"
The commentator's passionate voice resounded across Tokyo Racecourse, "Currently leading is still Seiun Sky, who widened her lead to five lengths thanks to her corner acceleration!"
"Special Week and Grass Wonder are still chasing—but their entanglement is slowing them down…"
"Wait! They're accelerating!"
"Still entangled, they're simultaneously closing in on Seiun Sky as if they'd planned it out!"
"The gap is narrowing! Now only four lengths... three lengths... two lengths!"
"It's still shrinking… and there's yet another pursuer!"
"El Condor Pasa!"
"Previously boxed inside the pack, El Condor Pasa finally breaks free!"
"Taking advantage of the tiny gap opening as the track shifts from curve to straight—she seizes it!"
"With brilliant technique, she's seized that opportunity, completely overturning her disadvantaged position!"
The stands erupted in response to the commentator's cracking voice. On the track, forehead veins bulging, face drenched in sweat, the leading Seiun Sky gritted her teeth and laughed bitterly:
"Seriously, none of you can be held back at all… and Condor-san, can't you just go bother Spe-chan instead…?"