Let me talk a little about the past.
This was back when I wasn't "Nice Nature me," but just "self-defense officer me."
I had once seen someone with eyes just like Sirius Symboli's, the eyes of the person now standing in front of me. He was one of my peers. Like Sirius Symboli, he spoke harshly, was confident, skilled at his work, and because he took care of others, he was popular in the workplace.
But in the end, he resigned. The reason was power harassment. His strict guidance toward his juniors was taken as power harassment by those around him.
Of course, he never bullied that junior. If anything, he cared for him, so his eagerness to teach became excessive—but his rough way of speaking made it inevitable that others would view it as harassment.
Back then, even I thought his instructions were a bit too harsh. I was on duty with him often, and we would smoke together on shift, so I had told him several times, "At least make your tone softer, or people will misunderstand."
But he never accepted my advice.
"After we get off the ship, maybe—but at work, I never slack off. If I do, it won't help the juniors in the future!"
That's what he said back to me.
My voice never reached him. And I realized something—the same way Sirius Symboli looks at me now, he had looked at me back then. He was confident, unyielding in what he believed was right, and to him, I was nothing more than someone from the same workplace, not a friend. My words held as much value as a pebble on the roadside…
I had enlisted half-heartedly, with no goal in mind, so I couldn't push him any harder.
In the end, it was his own responsibility that he quit, and it's all already in the past, so "what-ifs" are meaningless, but—if I had pushed harder, maybe something would have changed.
Of course, I don't mean to compare Sirius Symboli with him. It's just… their gender, appearance, voice, everything is different—but that one resemblance, the eyes that look at me without seeing me, I just can't shake the déjà vu.
Right now, in Sirius Symboli's eyes, there is nothing except the desire to defeat Senior Rudolf.
To win a race is different from defeating Symboli Rudolf. The meaning is different for her. If her goal were simply to win a race, then I should already be reflected in her eyes—after all, we're classmates, and we might compete in the same races.
But if Sirius Symboli debuts and races now, thinking of nothing but beating Symboli Rudolf, she will pay no attention to the other race participants.
She probably wouldn't even make strategies based on who else is running. In the worst case, even her relationship with her trainer may mean nothing to her. She will simply run, alone, again and again, until one day she finally stands on the big stage against Symboli Rudolf. Whether that is a direct race or comparing final records, I don't know. But if she loses at that moment, having thrown away anyone who could have supported her, her heart and legs will stop. They will break.
If she runs solely on confidence and ability, and those get shattered…
That thought became a small spark deep inside me.
It may be a future that may not even exist—but as someone whose life was saved by horse girls, there is one future I refuse to allow: one where Sirius Symboli ends up like that.
Sirius Symboli, who supposedly hates lies and facades, spoke contradictory words to me while holding eyes like that—and that contradiction worked like a bellows, fanning that spark.
A small piece of regret from my previous life, combined with a bit of hypocrisy, fed firewood to that spark.
My ideals as someone aiming to be a trainer tossed iron into the flames, demanding I save her.
My Uma-soul pride as a horse girl struck that glowing iron red-hot, hammering it down.
And what formed in my heart was a block of rough, unsharpened black iron—my will to fight.
First, I will force Sirius Symboli's knees into the turf. I will engrave into her eyes that Symboli Rudolf is not the only opponent she can fight—there is a rival horse girl called Nice Nature.
That resolve became a sharpening whetstone harder than diamond, shaping that dull lump of iron into a sharp weapon of competitive spirit.
"…Fine, Sirius Symboli. Come at me."
"Heh… now that's what I wanted to hear!"
That roaring neigh I heard echoing in my heart—was probably just my imagination.
——
⏱
——
"Take your positions."
Senior Rudolf tried to stop me when I accepted Sirius Symboli's challenge.
Well, of course she did. I am, technically, a guest invited to the Symboli household as her junior. Anyone listening objectively would interpret Sirius Symboli's words as insults toward me.
Meaning that Sirius Symboli practically smeared dirt onto the Symboli family name by saying that to me. So of course Senior Rudolf opposed the match.
Even so, I asked her to let me do it—for the sake of waking Sirius Symboli up.
Reluctantly, she agreed. I'll have to make some sweets later to fix her mood…
"Ready!"
Rudolf-senpai raised her hand at the starting point. The course was 1600 meters, right-turning. Since the Symboli course is 2000 meters long, our path would be a U-shaped race passing through the first and second turns.
No gate was needed, since it was just the two of us. She was on the inner lane, I was on the outer, but the difference was negligible.
I inhaled deeply and filled my lungs with the humid summer air. Lowering my stance, I fixed my gaze far ahead on the turf.
Rudolf-senpai swung her raised hand down powerfully. At that signal, both Sirius Symboli and I broke into a sprint.
Sirius Symboli took the lead first. With about one length between us, I chased her. As usual, I widened my stride out of the start to gain initial speed.
Once I reached cruising speed, I increased my pitch and shortened my stride. Minimizing stamina use so I would have plenty left for the final spurt. Of course, I paid attention to Sirius Symboli's moves even while planning, but the gap widened—from one length, to three.
(…Right. I'm not even worth considering. Figures.)
If I remember correctly, Sirius Symboli's specialty was the same as mine: frontrunner or late charger. But now, she was accelerating more and more, as if I didn't exist.
Ignoring the basics of her running style, she ran almost like a runaway escape racer. Did she really think she could beat me on physical ability alone?
At the first turn, we both came close to the inside rail, skimming it almost close enough to touch. She ran so close her arms looked like they might hit the barrier. I angled my body just enough to maintain balance.
From my position, she blocked my optimal line. With no choice, I increased my pitch.
From a square, to a hexagon, to an octagon… the more edges you add, the closer the shape comes to a circle. I increased my pitch, aiming for smoother cornering.
I should maintain the three-length distance. If I get closer now, my lane for overtaking later will get messy.
She still didn't look back. She ran inside simply because it was the shortest path—not because she was trying to block me.
Her run looked like a timed trial against herself.
(Is she still saving strength after running that fast…? No, she probably is.)
One more step. My point of attack would be right before entering the final stretch. Until then, this pace was fine. I still had plenty left.
My breathing gradually turned rough, but far from when I raced Rudolf-senpai. Grass kicked up behind Sirius Symboli stuck to my sweat and flew backward behind me.
From the first corner into the second—once through here, it's the home stretch. Sirius Symboli, when will you move? Where will you push?
I looked at her slight side-profile in the curve. It was a brief glimpse, not enough to see her expression—but surely, even now, I'm not reflected in her eyes.
The final stretch came into view forward-facing. When we were halfway through the second turn, Sirius Symboli glanced back at me.
Just a moment—she looked at me, not seeing me, and smirked provocatively before accelerating.
(So she was conserving her legs.)
She widened the distance—three lengths to four, four to five.
Fast. Even after running at near-escape pace, she still had this much left.
(But Sirius Symboli… I know a stronger spurt than that.)
Thanks to daily stretching, my muscles and joints moved smoothly. I pressed strength into the legs that had been gliding lightly.
The turf tore beneath my hooves with each step, soil rising to meet the horseshoes. And I too began my spurt. The timing was perfect. I accelerated to my top speed.
(Sirius Symboli. I know a far more powerful spurt.)
Like cutting, like jumping, like crawling, like flying—
(Just being fast won't shake me off!)
Her spurt was fast, yes—but just being fast isn't enough in racing.
Compared to the spurts of all the horse girls I saw in the app, in anime, in manga—hers wasn't scary at all.
"HaaaAAAAAH!!!"
I roared.
Grass and dirt exploded from beneath me. I leaned forward, pitch unchanged, but expanded my stride like leaping forward.
I raised that sharpened blade of competitive spirit toward Sirius Symboli. The scenery blurred; her back came closer.
"What—!?"
She widened her eyes in shock.
"Sorry, but I'm confident in my final kick too!"
I purposely flashed a smug smile. Come on—look at me, Sirius Symboli. Your rival is right here, running beside you.
"Damn it!"
She spat out desperately. That earlier confident grin was gone.
One length left between us—but even one length was a threat. I would not relax. I already knew how incredible she could become.
"I—won't—lose!!!"
She screamed, forcing herself forward. Where that last strength came from, I didn't know—but she kicked hard, refusing to let me pass.
"It's over, Sirius Symboli!!!"
That ability to accelerate now was admirable—but after running like an escape horse since the start, she had already exhausted most of her stamina.
I used everything I had left and came up beside her. The finish line was right in front of us.
""HaaaaAAA!!!!""
Both of us yelled. Each step hit the ground like a strike.
But equilibrium lasted only briefly. Unlike me, who still had a little left, Sirius Symboli had already given everything she had. Gradually, she drifted behind.
And just like that—by one length, I crossed the finish line first.