The Noblewoman's maiden (winless) race hadn't started yet—there was still some time before it began.
Fuuka Shirayuki's eyes skimmed over the detailed race information.
Then she noticed something interesting.
Staring at that line of text, she murmured to herself with clear amusement:
"So even this kind of race starts at five million in prize money?"
On the cold, indifferent webpage, the numbers were clearly marked—in units of ten-thousand yen.
If you could win a turf debut race in monster-filled Tokyo… then you could take that money and kick off your entire career. Stand on that grass like a dazzling new star rising into the sky.
Even after taxes…
Given Fuuka Shirayuki's current living standards…
She lifted her head and looked around the room.
The old, broken room reeked of rotten wood. Dark, damp stains crawled across the wooden table.
The whole place wasn't big—barely ten square meters. Plenty for one person to sleep in. The only problem was… there were two people living here. The Fuuka sisters slept on tatami. Sometimes they lay side by side; sometimes Fuuka Chiori would deliberately mess around and flop over, curling up like a little rat hugging its own tail.
Even after paying taxes—and handing a cut to the race committee called "JRA"—to Fuuka Shirayuki, this was still an absurd amount of money.
But—
Winning a debut race in Tokyo wasn't easy.
Tokyo, as Japan's capital… who among the debut racers would be a nobody? If you weren't a Tokyo Tracen student—some genius who'd passed the entrance exam—then you were basically a once-in-a-century Cinderella story waiting to happen.
It was like everyone knew champions made money.
But could everyone become a champion?
If it were really that easy, why would it be your turn?
Those difficulties sat right in front of Fuuka Shirayuki.
Yet her mind returned to one thing:
Rent.
Six days.
…At the latest, in six days, she had to scrape together the rent and hand it to the landlord.
Otherwise, even a dump like this would be taken from them—and she and her little sister would end up on the street.
Relying on free web fiction to earn that much was unrealistic.
But…
What if she entered a debut race?
Fuuka Shirayuki thought.
If she could race within six days and take first place, then every problem would unravel on its own!
She raised a fingertip toward the sky. Her pale, slender knuckles looked like clear glass in the air.
"This world doesn't have anyone who's born destined to be stronger than someone else," Fuuka Shirayuki said.
"But some people are born with the ability to learn—one thing, or many things—better than most."
"Those people…"
"Are called… geniuses."
A genius is honored as a genius precisely because they can do what ordinary people cannot.
And conveniently—
Fuuka Shirayuki was exactly that kind of person.
The girl's lips curled into a faint smile.
Knock knock.
A knock sounded. The narrow bedroom's wooden door rattled. Her little sister's voice came from outside.
"Sis, lunch is ready!" Fuuka Chiori called sweetly.
Fuuka Shirayuki stood, pressed down the latch—click—and opened the door.
Outside was her sister's small, round face. Her big eyes were full of confusion as she tilted her head at Fuuka Shirayuki.
Fuuka Shirayuki asked evenly, "What is it?"
"N-no… it's nothing." Fuuka Chiori shook her head quickly.
But she really was confused. She didn't understand why her sister hadn't gone out to work today.
Normally…
Fuuka Shirayuki would rush out around seven or eight in the morning.
But today she hadn't.
Was she taking a break?
Fuuka Chiori thought so, but didn't ask. She figured… her sister being able to rest was a good thing.
Then—
Fuuka Chiori led her sister to the table.
There wasn't anything tasty—just a lunch that could barely fill their stomachs.
The capable little sister swiftly set out bowls and chopsticks, pulled out the bench, and sat beside Fuuka Shirayuki.
Shirayuki glanced over and saw her sister pull out an old phone, her legs dangling and swinging restlessly.
Chiori hummed as she opened a livestream, carefully propping it on the table, then clasped her hands together and said sincerely:
"Thank you for the meal!"
Her high ponytail bounced with her words, tracing a cheerful arc through the air.
Fuuka Shirayuki leaned closer, staring at the screen.
"What's this?"
"This is the Noblewoman's race!" Chiori beamed, launching into an enthusiastic explanation.
Poking the screen with her fingertip, she continued:
"Look— even in a 'no-victory race', there are so many spectators at the track! Everyone's really optimistic about the Noblewoman's future! After all, she's got the most top-tier bloodline!"
"Sis, you're an Uma Musume—you've definitely heard of DEEP: Deep Impact, right? They say the Noblewoman is Deep Impact's descendant!"
Fuuka Shirayuki nodded thoughtfully. "I see."
And fell into silence again.
Fuuka Chiori lay on the table, her big eyes blankly watching the images on screen.
The stands were packed—so full they were nearly bursting. Across Hanshin Racecourse, there were flags painted with the Noblewoman's likeness—blood-red banners whipping at the edge of the earth. Even the birds overhead circled as if drawn in. The commentator and the crowd blended into a roaring wave of sound pouring from the speakers.
Chiori pointed at the screen, lifted her head, and said:
"See? Their world really is… full of color."
"…"
The instant the words left her mouth, Fuuka Chiori wanted to rewind three seconds and delete them.
What was that supposed to mean?
Was she complaining—without meaning to—that her sister couldn't give her a better life…?
And her sister was an Uma Musume too. She'd given up running because of what happened to their family. That comment might really sting.
Regret swelled in Chiori's chest. She drooped, lips pressed into a small, miserable line, then looked back at Fuuka Shirayuki.
Fuuka Shirayuki still looked lost in thought.
"Sis…?" Fuuka Chiori called cautiously.
Fuuka Shirayuki's thoughts snapped back. She lifted a brow. "Hm? What's wrong?"
"What I said just now… I didn't mean it like that…" Chiori tried to explain.
Hearing that, Fuuka Shirayuki replayed the moment in her head.
She instantly understood why her sister was trying to explain.
Looking at that aggrieved little face, Fuuka Shirayuki couldn't help it—she reached out, ruffled Chiori's hair, and smiled.
"Alright."
"I get what you meant. You don't have to explain."
"Your big sister here is a genius. One day, I'll turn your world into IMAX."
Fuuka Shirayuki really hadn't taken her sister's slip of the tongue to heart.
She was thinking about something else…
If the Noblewoman's race was today, then after it ended—would that "Reporter" from the comment section show up? Would she ask the Noblewoman about "their story"…?
And if she listened to the two of them—
Maybe she'd even sigh dramatically:
"What a pair of ill-fated lovebirds…"
Go take your damn "ill-fated lovebirds" and order the jumbo combo somewhere else!
As Fuuka Shirayuki thought that, she reached out and tugged her sister's cheeks, pulling a silly face at her, and said:
"Cheer up."
…
…
On the screen, the race continued.
"It's the Noblewoman! The Noblewoman!"
"The Noblewoman is soaring over the turf at Hanshin Racecourse! With both popularity and placing ranked first—she's nearly four lengths ahead of second place! A crushing victory—straight through the finish line!!!!"
"At this moment—"
"The Noblewoman has everything a professional Uma Musume needs! She's now qualified to compete in OP-class and G-class races! I can't wait to see next year's Triple Crown show!"
The crimson-posed girl charged through the finish line!
From the stage came the commentator's heated voice!
"What a terrifying display! Looks like the Noblewoman's first race was only a slip because of the track conditions! On a normal, good track, the Noblewoman has unquestionable champion-level strength!"
The girl looked out across the world and opened her arms wide!
Holding fast to her belief:
Strength is justice!
And…
After the race ended, it quickly moved into the winner's stage—and the interview segment.
Watching the Noblewoman sing and dance up there, a trace of confusion flashed in Fuuka Shirayuki's eyes.
Uma Musume…
So they weren't just professional athletes?
They had to be idols too?
Don't misunderstand—
It was just her occupational habit kicking in. She was thinking… could she steal a few songs?
That would make things more interesting. Fuuka Shirayuki couldn't stand anything that was completely boring.
After the winner's stage ended, the Noblewoman stood before the reporters' cameras and accepted an interview.
But—
Down below, a female reporter had already been waiting for a long time.
She was practically rubbing her hands together. The moment the Noblewoman was ready, she stood up to ask her question—still remembering that person from earlier today…
That author had almost pissed her off to death!
Pure trash!
Adaptation isn't random, and elaboration isn't lies—when were you authors finally going to understand that?!
The reporter put on a sweet smile and said:
"First of all, congratulations, Miss Noblewoman, on officially entering the ranks of professional Uma Musume."
"And then…"
"Miss Noblewoman, I'd like to ask—before you became a professional Uma Musume, in your childhood, or your life in general… was there anything that left a very deep impression on you? For example… a certain person? Something like that? You're not the type to date during your career, right?"
The reporter asked in a roundabout way.
This was a public press conference. Some questions really couldn't be asked too directly.
So she had to hint like this.
That was what the reporter thought.
The Noblewoman fell silent when she heard the question.
She shook her head with a look of regret.
"There isn't anything particularly memorable. I'm just happy that I've entered the professional circuit. Because to me, results are everything."
Hearing that answer, the female reporter was so excited she almost jumped on the spot!
See?
That author really was talking nonsense!
She'd send the interview to that person later and slap them in the face!
But…
After hesitating again and again—
A flicker of uncertainty appeared in the Noblewoman's eyes.
"Although… I feel like I might have… wronged someone."
The reporter froze.
Who… was she talking about?
Don't tell me she meant the author who was writing that nonsense online?
She didn't want to jump to that conclusion, but today's information made it impossible not to connect the dots.
And even the Noblewoman herself couldn't clearly remember it anymore…
She only recalled a blurry childhood memory—back when she was still "Donna." It felt like she'd done something unforgivable to someone.
But what did it matter?
The Noblewoman thought.
Process. Logic. None of it mattered.
The winner is king. Isn't that right?
The Noblewoman would make everything submit to her.
Donna raised her head again and stared into the camera.
"Good."
"I have a few words I want to say to her."
"If you truly have the right, then come back in front of me—and take it!"
As the reporter's questions continued…
The hazy memory in Donna's mind seemed to sharpen.
She remembered that person's eyes—an unusual pale blue-green.
As though carrying a sadness that would never fade.
…
Fuuka Chiori thought, My sister's pale blue-green eyes are really pretty.
She ate while watching the interview, occasionally lifting her head to glance at Fuuka Shirayuki.
The curious little girl asked, "Sis."
"Yeah?"
"Who do you think the person the Noblewoman 'owes' is? And what kind of debt could it be? Even Uma Musume like her… do they have worries too?"
Fuuka Chiori sighed, almost poetically:
"What a pair of ill-fated lovebirds."
Fuuka Shirayuki didn't answer right away.
Only after swallowing her mouthful did she calmly wipe the crumbs from the corner of her lips and say:
"Me."
"…Huh?" Fuuka Chiori jerked her head up like a startled otter!
Had she heard wrong?
What did that "me" mean?
No way the Noblewoman owed her sister anything, right?
If you were going to say the Noblewoman and Fuuka Shirayuki were tragic lovebirds, then why not say the Emperor lost a race and secretly cried in her dorm room? That would be more believable.
Chiori lowered her head again and kept eating.
She just thought her sister had snapped a little—maybe the pressure was really getting to her.
She kept eating, thinking it was fine—once her sister let the stress out, things would be okay. She'd take care of her.
Until—
Fuuka Shirayuki spoke again, utterly composed:
"Do… the Noblewoman owes—the person she wronged—is me."
"Look. She's even sending me a challenge right now."
Fuuka Shirayuki pointed at the screen as if it were completely obvious.
"Ah?" Fuuka Chiori snapped her head up again—then buried it back down.
She was convinced her sister had totally lost it.
Then Fuuka Shirayuki said, calm and certain:
"Your sister is a genius. And I'm going to answer the Noblewoman's challenge."
"So…"
"I'm going to enter a debut race!"
Her words hit the table like a gavel—loud and decisive.
This time, Fuuka Chiori couldn't pretend she hadn't heard.
She lifted her head again and again and again like an otter—until finally she just stared at her sister, mouth hanging open.
"…Huh?"
-------
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