"Ardan…?!"
In a startled sideways glance, Super Creek caught sight—out of the corner of her eye—of Mejiro Ardan's ferocious expression.
The 2nd eldest daughter of the Mejiro family, a horse girl who was usually elegant and gentle in both speech and bearing, now wore an expression that could only be described as savage.
It was like a Hannya mask from Noh theater or myth—her features were still the same soft, beautiful features, yet twisted by that ferocity into something that made one imagine horns and fangs.
Legend said that the Hannya demon was born from resentment created by jealousy.
Golden horns, a pallid face, jet-black hair, crimson teeth—these were all symbols of envy.
As if echoing the talk of jealousy before the race, the Mejiro Ardan now reflected in Super Creek's eyes brought exactly that kind of overwhelming impact.
But Super Creek knew very well that the "jealousy" her teammate spoke of truly represented the desire to win the race—and the resolve to do so at any cost.
She understood clearly that she herself was the same. The essence of the shiver she had spoken to Oguri Cap about was exactly the same as Ardan's.
She even felt that perhaps Oguri Cap hadn't had such thoughts before—but maybe she did now.
In the moment she passed Oguri Cap earlier, what she had seen was the same kind of all-out ferocity.
Races between horse girls were completely different from the energetic, joyful Winning Live filled with laughter and smiles.
For their dreams, for the expectations they carried, for the effort they and those around them had poured in—anything could be sacrificed in a race.
To win under such circumstances, looks and elegance meant nothing, let alone managing one's expression.
Her own face must look just as ferocious right now—Super Creek was certain of it.
She had something she wanted to obtain, something that would never change regardless of circumstance.
She, Oguri Cap, and Ardan were actually the same.
All of them had once nearly lost the chance to step onto the racetrack, all because of leg injuries.
All of them had dreams they could never casually give up, and all of them wanted to win every race.
After coming to Eternity, with the trainers' help eliminating those lingering issues, their desire to win—beautifully—had only grown stronger.
Yet she was also different from her companions.
Any race tested everything a horse girl possessed, which meant that even if some abilities weren't top-tier, they could still be compensated for.
She knew what she was good at and understood her own talents—extraordinary stamina, flashes of intuition during races.
All her training and competitions so far had been won on the strength of those qualities.
But she hadn't won every race.
That wasn't coincidence. If she didn't change something, it would stay that way in the future.
She simply wasn't fast enough. Whether it was cruising speed or the acceleration produced by explosive power, she wasn't among the very best of her generation.
She had already foreseen it: future opponents would only grow stronger, and being even a little inferior could mean total defeat.
And more than anything, what she lacked was speed.
For a horse girl whose life's meaning was speed, was there anything more despairing than "not fast enough"?
Of course, there were many ways to console oneself.
She had still won many races. She still had plenty of talent. She had never stopped training to improve her speed…
But not fast enough was still not fast enough.
Maybe that gap could be closed in the future; the training camps were always moving toward that goal.
But she wanted to try—just once.
She wanted to see whether, relying solely on ideas that seemed almost like intuition, she could surpass so-called talent—whether she herself could exceed the limits of speed.
Even if it meant becoming a villain, even if it meant targeting friends she had always raced alongside, she resolutely wanted to try.
And this wasn't only about Oguri Cap.
Tamamo Cross, Inari One, Ardan—she wanted to test herself against all of them.
So Ardan catching up wasn't unexpected at all.
First Oguri, then Ardan, and after that Tamamo and Inari.
The opponent she focused on might change at any moment, but what she wanted would never change.
Through this race—formal or not—she wanted to confirm her intuition, confirm and surpass her limits.
That was what made her tremble with excitement.
"After accelerating, Super Creek quickly overtakes Oguri Cap!"
"Mejiro Ardan follows closely behind, soon running neck and neck with Super Creek!"
"Ahead of the two, Tamamo Cross is still in the lead. The changes behind her haven't altered her tactics—she intends to suppress anyone who tries to overtake her."
"Inari One… Inari One's speed also seems to be increasing at this moment. Once more detailed data comes in, we'll provide further analysis, but for now—"
"She really is accelerating—Inari One!"
"We're now in the latter part of the middle phase of the race. Ahead lies the final leg, the turf section."
"The finish of the second leg is approaching, and the final curve familiar to many viewers is already in sight."
"At the speed the competitors are running now, the sprint to the exchange point is sure to be an incredibly thrilling contest!"
Although his tone was stirring, Kitahara's expression didn't look good at all.
As the live commentary paused and Akikawa Yayoi took over analysis, he raised his hand and made a signal to the chairwoman.
During pre-race rehearsals and earlier preparations, Kitahara and Akikawa Yayoi had discussed using hand signals—signals that wouldn't interfere with commentary—to handle unexpected situations.
What Kitahara just signaled was that once the second leg ended and the final leg began, the commentary would be handed off to other media outlets.
Akikawa Yayoi had already granted broadcasting rights to many media organizations, all with professional commentators, so the switch would pose no problem. This arrangement was specifically to deal with the current situation.
He had already guessed at the shift in Oguri Cap and the others' mindset—whether something had happened before the race, whether they had been influenced by seniors like Rudolf Symbol, or both.
Regardless of the reason, the current state of this race was far beyond what a relay race should be in terms of intensity.
They had already trained on sand for some time, and the training camp was far more intense than usual. After the race, it was unlikely there would be extremely severe consequences.
But extended rest would definitely be necessary, and the horse girls' outlooks would likely change because of this race.
That was exactly what Kitahara was worried about. He needed to prepare in advance and quickly understand Oguri Cap and the others' condition.
Being unable to personally commentate the entire race might be a bit regrettable, but compared to the state of his horse girls, that regret meant nothing.
Seeing Kitahara's signal during her analysis, Akikawa Yayoi quickly gave a confirming response.
As someone who had once raced herself, who was now the chairwoman of Central Tracen Academy, and who knew Kitahara well, she had clearly noticed what was happening.
The first race run by Rudolf Symbol and the other legends was understandable—she knew the grudges of those juniors from back then, and she wasn't surprised that once they returned to the track, they turned any race into a continuation of past rivalries.
As for Oguri Cap and the others now, she had been surprised at first, but that feeling quickly faded.
Her dream—what she had always strived for—was to give every horse girl a stage where she could shine.
But while working to realize that dream, she also understood how much idealism it contained, and how much harsh reality.
Horse girls needed to grow—not just physically or in terms of abilities brought by full-scale training or Domains, but mentally as well.
How to face victory and defeat. How to face one's own career.
How to face friends you live and study with when you meet them on the racetrack.
How to feel about surpassing friends, rivals—and oneself.
These were all things a chairwoman had to think about.
And all of this ultimately returned to the original purpose: as long as there was a sufficient stage, every child could gain enough experience.
Through race after race, training after training, they would gradually understand why they ran—and become brilliant existences the world could never forget.
But all of that took time.
And Oguri Cap and the others—perhaps even Rudolf Symbol and her peers—happened to be standing right at that point in time.
"I understand. I completely understand what you're thinking right now, Kitahara."
As she said this, Akikawa Yayoi had already finished her analysis and transferred the live audio and video feed to the pre-arranged media outlet.
She was now speaking directly to Kitahara.
"You noticed this in time—that's very good. This race of Oguri Cap and the others is highly unusual."
"All of their past accumulation, combined with various coincidences, has led them to think about more things. To put it simply, they've grown."
"As the chairwoman of Central Tracen Academy, I'll give this serious thought."
"And you, as the team's chief, will need to put in extra effort as well."
"From now on, training and racing won't be just about conditioning and running."
"…Yes, I understand. Thank you for the reminder, Chairwoman."
The petite chairwoman now wore the dignified, world-weary air of an elder, which looked slightly incongruous—but Kitahara had no urge to laugh.
Setting aside his commentary duties, he could now focus fully on watching the race and thinking about what would come next.
"Still… all of this will have to wait until after the race."
The race was steadily approaching its conclusion. At a speed and intensity no less than an official competition, the teams burst through the final curve.
Mejiro Ardan felt that in her slightly blurred vision, only that special exchange point remained.
And the figure of her younger sister—Mejiro McQueen.
As long as I can create the best possible opening for my sister to decide the race, that will be my victory.
She believed this with absolute conviction—and believed just as firmly that she could do it now.
In the past, she could smile gracefully at her grandmother, her mother, her older sister, and tell them that she could live up to the Mejiro name.
In front of her younger sisters, she had always been careful with her words and actions, holding herself to the standard of a perfect role model.
Whether it was frailty or being forced to rest in bed, she had never relaxed her self-discipline even for a moment.
But deep down, she knew she was not the most outstanding "Mejiro horse girl."
Mejiro Asama, Mejiro Titan, Mejiro Ramonu—those were the ones who truly deserved the name "Mejiro horse girl." She was merely doing her best not to disgrace that glorious name.
That was how she had always seen herself.
Her talent wasn't particularly exceptional, even when compensated for with effort.
Her weak constitution and fragile legs had made the road of hard work full of obstacles.
Since she was old enough to remember, she felt as though half her life had been spent in hospitals, in bed, or recuperating at home.
A body like that wasn't enough to shoulder the family's honor.
She even believed that, despite her young age, McQueen already possessed greater talent.
Once, long ago, she had even had a thought that now filled her with shame.
She had thought that maybe—just like this relay race—she could simply pass the baton to the next generation, to Mejiro McQueen.
McQueen would surely do better than her. That was what she had believed then.
But she didn't think that way anymore.
The jealousy and resolve she had spoken of to Oguri before the race had been meant to draw out all of that teammate's talent and fight her at full strength.
Now, she was confident that even against such an Oguri, she could still win.
She felt this way because of Oguri—and because of Super Creek, Tamamo, Inari, and the others.
No one had a smooth path. The Eternity team was almost like a gathering of "problem" horse girls—past leg injuries, psychological hurdles, difficult personalities… everyone had their own troubled history.
Yet no one had given up. Everyone had made it this far, becoming brighter and brighter horse girls.
So compared to jealousy or resolve, what she truly wanted to say was thank you.
Thank you to the companions who had walked with her all this way, who had made her realize that her resolve was absolutely right.
If there was a destination one wished to reach, then even becoming a fleeting flash of brilliance—brilliance that lasted only an instant—was worth giving everything for.
Such brilliance had nothing to do with winning or losing. As long as one charged toward the goal one desired, the light that shone in that moment was enough.
Perhaps this was the true destiny borne by a "Mejiro horse girl."
"The first to complete the exchange—Mejiro Ardan and Mejiro McQueen! Thanks to the efforts of her teammate and elder sister, Mejiro McQueen gets a beautiful start!"
"Right behind them—Mihono Bourbon! The two horse girls complete the handoff almost simultaneously and burst out of the exchange zone together!"
Only after passing the exchange zone did Mejiro Ardan realize what she had just heard. She quickly noticed that the commentators were no longer Kitahara and Akikawa Yayoi, but someone else.
What…?
As she briefly wondered, she soon heard the voice of the very person she was thinking about.
"Hey—Ardan, how are you feeling?"
Instinctively turning toward the voice, she saw two figures rushing over—one tall, one short.
The tall one was Chief Kitahara; the shorter one was Chairwoman Akikawa. It had been Kitahara who called out.
"Hah… hah… I—I'm fine…"
As those breathless words left her mouth, Mejiro Ardan realized just how astonishingly exhausted she was.
She didn't feel any other discomfort, but she was still shocked. She had never imagined that a relay race—one that couldn't compare to the Shining Series in any way—would leave her this drained.
"It sounds like simple fatigue… but we should still check you right away. Ardan, slow down and walk it off for a bit. I'm going to see how Oguri and the others are doing."
Kitahara's words made Ardan understand why he had rushed over, and she couldn't help but feel a warmth in her chest at his concern.
She then instinctively tried to look toward her teammates—only to hear a strangely frantic call from that direction.
"Hah… h-hey, Boss… y-you'd better come take a look…"
Tamamo Cross's voice was also panting, but thankfully still clear.
"O-Oguri, she… she's gotten really weird…"
"She's like dough… no matter how you knead her, no matter how you poke her… she-she doesn't react at all…"
"It's like she's completely spaced out…"
(End of Chapter)