In the blink of an eye, the day of the Kyoto Kinen had arrived.
A G2 race like this didn't require the whole team to mobilize.
Today, only Kuroha was behind the wheel, driving Fujimasa March to Kyoto Racecourse.
Inside the smoothly cruising sedan, the air was calm and focused.
Kuroha rested one hand on the steering wheel, eyes level with the stretch of road ahead, relaxed and at ease.
In the passenger seat, Fujimasa March reclined slightly with her eyes closed, conserving her energy—showing no hint of pre-race nerves.
For her—
Or rather, for any member of Team "Chasing Light" these days—
a G2 wasn't a do-or-die battle; it was more like a pop quiz to check how well training had gone.
Mm…
It might sound a bit arrogant,
but in this era where Central is short on top talent, aside from the Eternal Big Three, no one could withstand the crush of a Domain.
The car glided on.
Before long, the iconic silhouette of Kyoto Racecourse came into view.
Even for a G2, the area was already thronged—traffic streaming, heads packed shoulder to shoulder.
Fans from all directions had gathered, and the very air seemed to hum with a hot blend of anticipation and excitement.
"Looks like it'll be lively today too."
Fujimasa March opened her eyes, watching the surging crowd outside with a smile.
"You are the headliner, after all."
Kuroha slid the car smoothly into the team's reserved parking, answering off-handedly.
After Oguri Cap beat Tamamo Cross to become the "strongest active,"
Fujimasa March—a fellow gray, and Oguri Cap's rival back in the regional circuit—
naturally became the focus of Central as well.
Add to that the unprecedented South Kanto Triple Crown gracing the girl's résumé,
and she'd captured the attention of horse-girl fans everywhere.
"Headliner, huh…"
Fujimasa March paused, then blossomed into a grin.
She unclicked her seatbelt and, with elegant poise, pushed open the door—long legs stepping out first.
Then she turned back, giving Kuroha a playful wink:
"In that case, so as not to betray the audience's expectations, allow me to give them a dazzling one-woman show."
Kuroha, catching this rare bit of playfulness from the normally cool, laser-focused gray girl, felt a small stir.
That confidence and composure made even the noisy sea of people and the feverish atmosphere outside feel like nothing more than the set dressing for the stage she was about to own.
"Then I'll be looking forward to your performance."
Kuroha got out, locked the car, and smiled as he came to her side. "Come on—let's head to prep."
In the competitors' prep room,
even though this race wasn't particularly difficult for Fujimasa March, Kuroha still gave a concise rundown of the essentials.
"…And that's the general profile of the entrants today."
"Besides a few horses with past G2 wins worth noting, handle the rest at your usual pace."
Fujimasa March listened quietly. She'd heard things like this from Kuroha many times,
yet there wasn't a trace of impatience—in fact, she rather enjoyed her Trainer's faintly fussy side.
When Kuroha finished, she dipped her head lightly.
"Roger, Trainer!"
"Good. We're almost on—get changed and then head to the entry corridor."
Kuroha nodded with a smile.
Once Fujimasa March left for the corridor,
Kuroha moved to the stands. He was about to pick out a decent spot at random when a cool female voice reached him:
"Trainer Kuroha?"
Kuroha blinked and turned toward the voice. Its owner was a neatly dressed, serious-looking woman.
About 1.5 meters tall, ash-blond hair combed perfectly in place.
"Fumino, Trainer?"
Kuroha recognized her at once—
the Trainer of Super Creek, one of the Eternal Big Three: Fumino Nase.
"What brings you here?"
Kuroha sat down beside her and asked.
Fumino rolled her eyes, flat as a dead fish. "Don't you do pre-race recon?"
"Hatsushiba Ace is one of mine. How could I not come watch?"
Kuroha was left a bit speechless.
Of course he knew that Hatsushiba Ace, one of today's entrants, was in Fumino's string.
But after too much exposure to Trainers with waterlogged brains, he'd subconsciously assumed Fumino would have most of her attention on the injured Super Creek right now.
"…Seems Central Tracen still has a fair number of normal Trainers after all…"
As Kuroha settled in, the PA at Kyoto Racecourse boomed to life with the opening patter.
Fumino glanced at him. "You look pretty relaxed. So you're certain March has this in the bag?"
Kuroha's lips curled; his eyes stayed on the track.
"Not 'I think.' It's a fact."
His tone was level, but brooked no doubt.
Fumino's brows knit, but she didn't jump in.
After a brief silence, she continued:
"I've studied your footage and data. Fujimasa March during the South Kanto sweep was terrifyingly strong…"
"But there are no absolutes on the track."
You studied us and then said it to my face…
Kuroha folded his arms and shook his head.
No absolutes, huh?
Perhaps, after these two years of Central's talent drought, Fumino's memory had gotten fuzzy.
She'd forgotten—
The one currently doing all the donkey work in the Central Tracen student council office.
At his peak, Symboli Rudolf defined what absolute truly meant!
On the course, as the horse girls filed out one after another, the atmosphere at Kyoto Racecourse grew ever hotter.
Then the broadcast suddenly punched up, the commentator's voice cutting through the roar:
"Next to appear—
a transfer student hailing from Kasamatsu, just like a certain other—
the silver-white storm that ravaged all of South Kanto!"
"Now, do it again on Kyoto's turf—lay waste to everything in your path!"
"The top favorite—Fujimasa March!!!"
"OOOOOHHHHHH—!!!"
The crowd erupted in a tidal wave of cheers.
At that cue, Fujimasa March stepped out from the entry tunnel, her figure cutting cleanly into the light.
(End of Chapter)
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