October 16, the day before the Tenno Sho (Autumn).
By this point, the news that March was about to retire had already spread throughout all of Central.
The whole country instantly erupted.
And as a fellow Chasing Light Uma Musume—one who was about to challenge for back-to-back Tenno Sho wins—Mejiro Ardan became the focal point of everyone's attention.
"If Fujimasa March retires, doesn't that mean only Mejiro Ardan is left?"
"B-but Ardan's in her fourth year too…"
"Ardan isn't going to retire as well, right? I don't want to see them leave the track!"
Fans' clamor and reluctance surged like a tide across both the internet and real life.
They were people who'd lived through that dim, lifeless, quiet era after Rudolf.
They'd waited for years—years—until the Chasing Light era finally arrived.
But as time passed, starting with Tamamo Cross… then Inari… then Super Creek… one by one, familiar figures left the track behind.
And now, it was finally March.
No one could hide their unwillingness.
They didn't want to watch those familiar silhouettes slowly vanish from their world.
…
And at this time—
Central Tracen Academy, daytime training track.
"Ha… ha…"
Heavy breaths and heavy footsteps intertwined.
Just before the finish line, a figure with healthy wheat-colored skin and neat, shoulder-length black hair suddenly lunged forward at the very last instant—crossing the white line first by the slimmest "neck" margin.
"Hehe!"
Wakaba braced her hands on her knees, gulping air, but her grin was so bright it was almost blinding.
Sweat slid down her sun-kissed neck, glittering in the sunlight.
She straightened and looked at the companion beside her—also panting hard—her tone full of teasing.
"Shiroishi?"
"Your form's been bad lately. How'd you end up losing even to me?"
Beside her, Shiroyō Rock wiped sweat from her forehead with a weary look.
She shot a glance at this over-energetic menace and said, deadpan, "Please… Your Tenno Sho (Autumn) is tomorrow. Of course you're peaking your condition."
"But I'm running the Kikuka Sho in early next month."
Shiroyō Rock straightened, adjusting her breathing rhythm. "That's 3000 meters. I'm in an endurance stockpiling phase right now—there's no way I can burn through stamina like you do and still go all-out for speed."
"Tch~ Excuses." The tanned little brat stuck out her tongue, then grabbed her bottle and chugged a big mouthful.
Shiroyō Rock watched her, exasperated—and honestly a little confused. "Seriously though, Wakaba. You're really stubborn."
"You know they're basically impossible to beat, so why are you so obsessed with chasing March-senpai and Ardan-senpai like your life depends on it?"
"That's not necessarily true!"
Wakaba slammed the bottle down, then thumped her own generous chest with a solid smack.
Two flames burned in her dark, shining eyes as she spoke with bold conviction.
"A race is a race—until you hit the finish line, who the heck knows how it'll turn out?"
"Uma Musume running isn't just 'who's stronger' or 'who's faster' and that's it!"
"All you need is spirit! And guts!"
Wakaba clenched her fist and punched it hard into the sky.
"Even if they're Chasing Light Uma Musume, I'll beat them and show you!"
"Tomorrow, I'm going to end that generation's legend beneath my feet!!"
Watching her friend get so fired up it was like flames were roaring behind her, Shiroyō Rock tugged at the corner of her mouth, then finally just sighed.
"Yeah, yeah. Do whatever you want."
"Tomorrow, then… I'll be in the stands, watching you create your miracle."
…
The next day.
Tokyo Racecourse, G1 Tenno Sho (Autumn).
At the gates—
"Hoo…"
Wakaba drew a deep breath, staring hard at the elegant blue back ahead of her.
"Watch me. Even if I have to bet everything I've got, I'm going to…"
"Win!!!"
…
Cut.
Past the finish line.
"They're home—!!!"
The cheers exploded like a tsunami, and the entire venue instantly became a roaring ocean of noise.
"Hgh… ah…"
The girl who'd sworn only minutes ago that she'd create a miracle was now sprawled out on the grass like a salted fish, limbs splayed in every direction.
She stared blankly at the sky, chest heaving violently, lungs burning like they were about to burst.
Seventh place…
Looking at the name on the big screen, the tanned girl felt dazed.
Forget a miracle.
She hadn't even gotten close enough to feel the warmth of her opponent's wake.
And not far ahead of her—
That lapis-like girl was bathing in a storm of applause, gracefully waving to the crowd.
"Unrivaled! Unstoppable!!"
The announcer's voice thundered through the stadium, passionate and electrifying.
"This is—Mejiro Ardan!!"
"Today, she surpassed her own limits and achieved the unprecedented: the Tenno Sho Spring–Autumn double!!"
"Six lengths! A crushing victory by six full lengths!"
"The glory of Mejiro rings across Central!"
The announcer clearly wanted to hype her up as the world's strongest middle-distance empress, but remembering Oguri's recent overseas middle-distance G1 performances, he didn't quite dare go that far.
Listening to the ear-splitting commentary, Wakaba covered her eyes with her forearm, looking thoroughly wrecked.
"She's… strong like a monster…"
…
After the race, near the competitors' corridor.
The lighting here was dim, far from the chaos outside.
Wakaba dragged legs that felt like they'd been filled with lead, stumbling along as she emerged.
The moment she turned a corner, she spotted a familiar figure leaning against the wall.
Shiroyō Rock stood with arms crossed, as if she'd been waiting a long time.
Hearing the footsteps, she lifted her head slightly. Her usually half-closed eyes opened to a thin slit, a cool, rational glint shining through.
"I told you. You couldn't win."
Her tone was calm—no mockery—just a quiet statement of fact.
"Ardan-senpai is from the same era as Inari and Oguri—monsters like that."
"Four years of accumulation isn't something Classic-Year Uma Musume like us—still growing—can compete with."
"It's a dimensional gap."
"Heh…"
Wakaba didn't answer right away. She went silent for a moment, then tugged at her lips.
"Yeah… the gap's too big."
"But that doesn't mean it's impossible."
She suddenly raised a hand and smacked her cheeks hard—forcing herself to wake up and reset.
"Only by beating an opponent that strong does my victory mean something!"
"..." Shiroyō Rock looked utterly done with her. "There's no getting through to you…"
"What about you?" Wakaba asked with a grin. "Ready for the Kikuka Sho?"
"Ready to lose."
The girl with the sleepy eyes sighed. "At 3000 meters, no matter how well I prepare, it feels like I just can't win. Honestly, first I need to actually finish 3000 meters without face-planting."
…
"Oh, wow… so McQueen really is still that strong…"
Hearing her friend, Wakaba couldn't help recalling her own debut last year—how McQueen had gapped her by seven lengths.
And the worst part was, she'd talked big right to McQueen's face before the race…
Ugh… remembering it now made her want to crawl into a hole again.
"Okay! I've decided!" The tanned girl suddenly slammed her fist into her palm.
Shiroyō Rock: "?"
"When March and Ardan retire, my goal'll be the same as yours!"
Shiroyō Rock froze.
And in the space between them, it felt like they could both see it—the elegant purple silhouette that would remain.
If the strongest of Chasing Light would be gone for good, with no chance left to beat them…
Then only one target remained.
The one who inherited the name of Chasing Light—
"The new generation's strongest Uma Musume—Mejiro McQueen!"
…
"!"
In the prep room, McQueen suddenly shivered.
She blinked, tilting her head slightly. "Huh… That's weird. Is someone thinking about me?"
She didn't dwell on it. Instead, she looked at Mejiro Ramonu and Ardan in front of her.
Besides McQueen and her Trainer, Ramonu had come to watch as well.
After all, this was the closest the Mejiro family had come to achieving the Spring–Autumn Tenno Sho double—an old, cherished wish of House Mejiro.
"Excellent work, Ardan," Ramonu said, her mature voice carrying both pride and authority.
"This was only natural, Ramonu-oneechan," Ardan replied, posture elegant and commanding.
"Uh…"
McQueen glanced from one sister to the other, a bead of sweat sliding down her face.
…Ardan-oneechan felt even more dangerously bold than before.
(End of Chapter)
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