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Walking alone beneath the quiet glow of the evening streetlights, Shuta An found his thoughts drifting back to the final moments of today's Autumn Tenno Sho—Tamamo Cross and Oguri Cap tearing across the straight, the air trembling around them—and that mysterious realm Symboli Rudolf and Maruzensky had called the "Zone."
He exhaled slowly, pulled out his phone, and after hesitating for a long while, finally opened Line.
"Miss Miesque, do you know about 'ZONE'?"
At that exact moment, Miss Miesque—currently enjoying elegant afternoon tea—nearly sprayed her black tea at the message.
"Pfft—!" Her refined posture broke for an instant as she stared at her phone. "Already—?! How long has it even been since the race? How does he already know about Zone?"
She rubbed her temples, still stunned. "No, wait—Logically speaking, with Mr. Shuta's background, there's no way he should be unclear about 'Zone,' right?"
She immediately sent her question back.
Shuta An scratched his cheek awkwardly as he typed.
"It's not that I don't know… it's more like… I have no memory of it. I'm sure my father must've explained it at some point, but…"
Miss Miesque tapped her nail against her teacup.
"Then shouldn't you ask Miss Secretariat? She's the most suitable person to explain it. Her legendary Belmont Stakes run is practically the embodiment of 'Zone'"
The moment he read that, Shuta An let out a long sigh.
"Miss Miesque also knows… how I left West Coast Tracen Academy. For now, I can't just reach out to Secretariat. That's why—after thinking it through—Miss Miesque is the only one I can ask."
"My my" Miss Miesque's ears flicked as she straightened her posture. "Fine. Then I'll explain everything I know."
And so, as Shuta An continued his quiet stroll through the city, Miss Miesque poured out her full understanding of Zone—what they were, how they manifested, the risks… and even the method to train a Uma Musume's Zone.
But after reading through her explanation, Shuta An silently shook his head.
"A Uma Musume needs to push herself to her absolute limit to train it… Oguri's too injury-prone. I can't let her use this recklessly."
He tucked his phone away and opened the race replay, choosing the circuit-view camera. Fast-forwarding to the final stretch, he caught a tiny flicker of panic in Tamamo Cross's expression.
"Just as I thought," he sighed in relief. "Even Miss Tamamo Cross hasn't mastered the Zone perfectly."
His conclusion set, he headed back to the hotel. Later, dressed in pajamas, he opened his laptop, prepared a small plate of snacks, and waited. A few minutes passed before Berno Light and Oguri Cap entered the room hand in hand.
Shuta An shifted the laptop to the living room so everyone could see.
"Honestly, if the housing bubble weren't so insane, I'd consider buying a place here," he began. "But right now? It'd just be burning money."
Berno Light and Oguri Cap exchanged knowing looks—they had heard this kind of economic forecasting from him more than once.
"Tokyo's too expensive," Shuta continued matter-of-factly. "So a place with its own training ground is unrealistic. Better to look near an Uma Musume sports facility."
"Cooking is also a problem—" Oguri Cap muttered, fully aware of her own monstrous appetite.
"Berno and I talked it through," Shuta said. "I'll cook first. If it doesn't work out, we'll arrange regular deliveries."
"Then let's prioritize the location," Berno Light suggested. "Either near Tokyo Racecourse or somewhere with good transport access."
"Not just Tokyo Racecourse," Shuta corrected as he scrolled. "Arima Kinen at the end of the year is at Nakayama Racecourse."
His finger froze mid-scroll.
"Now that I think about it, Oguri hasn't been to Nakayama even once, right?"
Oguri Cap shook her head. "Not once."
"Tsk." Shuta clicked his tongue. "Never mind. First, we finish Japan Cup prep. Nakayama comes after."
Oguri poked his side lightly. "I heard Nakayama is nothing like Tokyo Racecourse. Ann will have to tell me everything, okay?"
"Of course," he replied easily. "But Oguri will adapt. I'm sure of it."
Berno blinked. "Why? She hasn't even run there."
Shuta wagged a finger.
"Don't forget the steep Slope Road in front of the shrine—the special hill you trained on at the very beginning. That slope is way harsher than the one at Nakayama."
Oguri's eyes widened slightly in realization.
"And the Arima Kinen is 2500 meters," Shuta continued. "A distance Oguri has never run—but Arima is a battle of guts. And today, in the Autumn Tenno Sho, Oguri showed she has guts tougher than anyone."
"I will conquer Nakayama Racecourse," Oguri declared proudly.
"Then I'll prepare shoes and horseshoes for climbing slopes," Berno added with determination.
———
Finding a house was not something that needed to be settled immediately. After discussing it for half a day, Shuta An and the two Uma Musume still couldn't reach a decision.
"Well, there's still plenty of time. It's fine even if we don't rent a place right away." Shuta An sighed helplessly as he walked the two girls back to their rooms.
Returning alone, he set his laptop back onto his desk. He hesitated for a moment—then decided against being lazy.
"I'll finish today's Autumn Tenno Sho post-race report tonight and submit it to the URA Association."
Since the Autumn Tenno Sho was a Central G1, the report had to be sent not only to the Central URA Association but also to the Tokai Region URA Association and Kasamatsu Tracen Academy. One copy for each. The deadline was still a week away, yet Shuta An had no intention of delaying.
"The sooner it's done, the sooner I'm free. And honestly… there's a lot to write about in this Autumn Tenno Sho."
Sitting down, he quickly outlined his thoughts, then began writing smoothly.
"This year's French Two Crowns Uma Musume, Oguri Cap, has once again proven that her performance in the first half of the year was neither luck nor a temporary spark. On October 30th, at the 2000-meter Turf G1 Autumn Tenno Sho at Tokyo Racecourse, she faced the undefeated spring-season Uma Musume, Tamamo Cross, and ultimately finished in a dead heat—achieving the third G1 victory of her Twinkle Series career."
"Tamamo Cross's uncharacteristic decision to take the lead made me uneasy at the start, but Oguri Cap's sharp judgment quickly dispelled that anxiety. Throughout every stage of the race, she tracked Tamamo Cross firmly, and in the final straight, just like in the Prix du Jockey Club, she displayed overwhelming guts. She closed the gap and fought to the finish—resulting in a dead heat."
"While this outcome cannot be called perfect, with the Japan Cup next month, I believe Oguri Cap will deliver an even stronger performance. The foreign Uma Musumes that will enter remain unknown, but I have absolute confidence that Oguri Cap will win."
With that bold declaration completing the report, Shuta An closed his laptop and glanced at the time. Barely five minutes had passed.
"Well, it's nearly ten. I'll take a shower and turn in for the night."
He grabbed his toiletries and headed into the bathroom. After washing up, he put on his pajamas, adjusted the air conditioning, climbed into bed, tucked in the blanket, and closed his eyes.
"Tonight in the Dream World—I'll challenge the Autumn Tenno Sho again."
There, Shuta An was still Oguri Cap's main jockey; there was no one who could replace him. And when he opened his eyes—he found himself sitting in the jockey waiting room of Tokyo Racecourse once more.
Before he had entered, Trainer Setoguchi Tsutomu had requested that Oguri Cap adopt a conservative mid-pack position for the race. But having witnessed Tamamo Cross's bold change in tactics in the real world, Shuta An had no intention of following that plan.
"But I can't push too far forward either," he reminded himself. "Trainer Setoguchi's predicted placement was 8-8-5… so I'll shift it to 7-5-3 instead."
If he held that order, he could wait until the moment they entered the final straight, then guide Oguri Cap to a clear lane and launch a decisive sprint—mirroring the duel against Tamamo Cross on the 500-meter-long straight. Compared to Oguri Cap's real-world positioning earlier, this was more conservative. But here, in a world where there was no Zone, this seemed the most reasonable strategy.
Today, Shuta An was scheduled to ride in six of the eleven Tokyo Racecourse races. Aside from the Autumn Tenno Sho, he had mounts in the second, third, fourth, eighth, and ninth races. He pushed aside the Autumn Tenno Sho for now and focused on the upcoming second race: the 3-year-old Maiden Race.
His mount was a rather unusual one—Keiai Power, carrying 31% Arabian blood. Not a completely purebred racehorse, and as such, naturally lacking in top-end speed compared to the others.
But Shuta An couldn't help but admire her trainer.
"Trainer Fujisawa really is a genius… The strategy he suggested seems genuinely workable. Her odds are low, but if everything goes smoothly, she'll definitely shock everyone."
Twisting his whip between his fingers, he recalled Fujisawa's earnest words.
"Keiai Power is the first horse I've sent to the track since becoming a Trainer this year. She still hasn't won, and I really hope she can seize this chance."
"With Arabian blood, her absolute speed is inferior. That's why I want Shuta-kun to take the lead decisively—see if she can run wire to wire."
"If her stamina is really her advantage…" A bold idea flashed through Shuta An's mind.
"1000 meters in 58.9 seconds! Keiai Power, in a complete reversal of her usual running style, takes the lead with a blazing pace! Unbelievable! Shuta An is pushing her into a runaway lead at Tokyo Racecourse!"
In the stands, Trainer Fujisawa froze, speechless.
"I… I told Shuta-kun to take the lead, yes… But I definitely didn't mean this! At this pace, her stamina consumption will be enormous!"
"What will he do…?" For the first time, Fujisawa couldn't find the answer.
And in the final straight—Shuta An gave him one.
With his whip.
"Ever since the JRA introduced whip-use restrictions, Shuta An has never swung his whip like a windmill! Everyone thought he was simply following the rules—but look at him now!" the commentator shouted, nearly losing his mind. "He didn't swing because he didn't need to! And now—Keiai Power's full potential is exploding!"
Trainer Fujisawa stood at the VIP railing, stunned as he watched the young jockey lash with everything he had, urging Keiai Power to unleash strength no one had imagined.
"This spirit—" In his very first year as a trainer, Fujisawa finally understood why so many people at Ritto praised Shuta An's riding so highly.
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