The race began—nearly every competing Uma Musume shot forward in a perfectly aligned horizontal line. Their start was flawless, and under the roaring cheers of the crowd, the curtain was raised on this peak showdown.
"A beautiful start! The runners are neck-and-neck, all vying for the lead!"
"Oh! Exceptional Venture bursts out from the far outside—she's sprinted right to the very front to seize the lead position!"
The announcer's voice surged with excitement, carrying the audience's passion even higher.
"Keep pace—!!!"
Sakura Chiyono O kept her position in the middle of the pack. Her breathing was steady, but her gaze was sharp as a hawk's, constantly scanning the opponents around her.
The Japan Derby field is massive—getting boxed in is the last thing I can allow!
She bit down, analyzing the situation with a calm mind.
To avoid being trapped, there were only two choices: fight for the very front, or drop all the way to the back.
But with so many competitors, charging to the lead now would drain too much stamina and be disastrous for the final leg.
As for second place? That was dangerous—it was far too easy to get dragged along by the leader's pace and lose her own rhythm.
Sakura Chiyono O kept calculating—opponents' strengths, the pace, the track conditions, her own capabilities…
Then… I'll stay right here!!!
In an instant, she made her choice—third place. It was the perfect position—ready to attack, safe to fall back.
Like a swift, slippery fish, she weaved through the crowded field, smoothly claiming the golden seat of third place.
It was then—
She caught something in her peripheral vision.
Turning slightly, she saw it was Mejiro Ardan.
Ardan was running close on her outside, a faintly composed smile on her face.
Sakura Chiyono O glanced at her briefly, then turned back to focus on the race.
"…You've noticed, haven't you?"
Ardan's expression grew solemn.
From the Satsuki Sho and recent training, she already knew—both Yaeno Muteki and Sakura Chiyono O had stronger late surges than her when they went all out.
But the Japan Derby was no Satsuki Sho.
2400 meters—it was a distance that could break any Uma Musume.
Mejiro Ardan was different. Like Mejiro McQueen in the future, she possessed the Mejiro family's finest long-distance bloodline.
Her stamina far surpassed anyone else on the field.
I'll just keep to the outside and watch the situation for now, Chiyono O…
Her voice was soft, but her eyes burned.
The final leg—that's when the real battle begins.
The sharp, rapid sound of iron shoes pounding turf rang like battle drums, echoing across Tokyo Racecourse's wide track.
The leader's steady pace was gradually raising the pack's speed. Air was sliced apart by the charging silhouettes, carrying a constant roar.
"The leader is still Exceptional Venture! Keeping a stable rhythm—"
"…And in third place, Sakura Chiyono O! Mejiro Ardan is right on her outside!"
The commentary blared from the loudspeakers, narrating the race's shifting tides.
Time passed. The race was already past the halfway point.
They rounded the final turn—
The distance marker beside the rail read: 600 meters to the finish!
The decisive moment had come.
At the front, Exceptional Venture—who had led from the very start—was faltering under the pressure and the energy she'd spent.
Her stride was heavy now, speed dropping visibly.
And then—
From right behind, a burst of cherry-pink exploded into motion!
Sakura Chiyono O launched her attack!
All the power she had been holding back ignited in her legs—her acceleration was like an arrow loosed from its bow, blasting past the two tired frontrunners to seize the lead!
This is it!
She bit down hard, her mind roaring.
Her view was wide open—only the finish line ahead!
One final push would bring her the victory she sought!
"Sakura Chiyono O makes her move! She's taken the lead—"
The announcer's shout was cut by a sudden shift in tone—
"Mejiro Ardan is surging from the inside!"
"Yaeno Muteki is closing from the outside!"
"In the blink of an eye—it's three abreast at the front!!!"
No sooner had Sakura Chiyono O taken the lead than Ardan and Muteki appeared at her sides!
The three frontrunners arrived at the tip of the spear in perfect unison, sprinting side-by-side like three fighter jets, tearing toward the finish!
Sakura Chiyono O's eyes widened—
To her left, Ardan's refined form now burned with unmatched sharpness.
To her right, Muteki's steady, mountain-like drive rumbled forward.
There was no space between them—their breaths loud in each other's ears, every stride pounding in their chests.
I won't give an inch!
Her whole body strained, every step squeezing the last drops of power from her muscles.
The finish line was so close now, shining white against her eyes.
She could feel Ardan's shadowy pressure on one side, and Muteki's heavy, unwavering steps shaking the ground on the other.
Behind them—
The first-favored Dido Shooter gritted her teeth in pain.
"Damn it…!!"
Her left leg trembled uncontrollably—the cursed old injury had betrayed her at the worst possible time.
Her face twisted with effort and regret as she watched the three leaders pull farther and farther away.
Ahead—
The three titans thundered forward, as if trying to split the earth beneath their hooves!
The finish loomed closer, air screaming as it was ripped apart by their speed.
"…Almost there…"
Sweat drenched Sakura Chiyono O's clothes.
Her lips bled from the force of her clenched teeth, iron tang filling her mouth.
Chiyono O, you have to push… you have to…
If not now, when…?
I… I can't lose!
She felt her very limits closing in.
"I… will not be overtaken!!!"
Muteki and Ardan were at their limits too—but their will to win blazed all the brighter.
My legs still have strength—now's the moment!
Ardan shed all traces of her noble image.
Just as I thought—I've conserved more stamina than they have. Time to strike—for the honor of the Mejiro family!
"Ahhhh—!!!"
Her roar drove her forward, step by step breaking the deadlock and edging into the lead!
"Mejiro Ardan takes the front! Can the others catch her?!"
From the stands, Maruzensky clutched her chest—
Is she… going to lose?
Chiyono O stared blankly at Ardan's back pulling away.
No… she couldn't lose—
Not to this.
Not with Maruzensky's unfulfilled regret…
Not with Kuroha's hopes on her shoulders…
I can't lose! I won't lose! I will win!!!
Her consciousness screamed, raged, forced her battered body to respond!
Every cell in her burned with the desperate will to win!
"Aahhh!!!"
Her voice tore up from her very soul.
Her sweat-soaked pink hair whipped violently in the wind—her dimming eyes reigniting with a terrifying light!
The fire inside her, nearly extinguished, flared back to life—becoming a storm of energy that would burn away all obstacles!
Then—
A crisp, impossible sound.
It was as if a mirror appeared before her—and her will had just cracked it open.
From the depths of her heart, a searing heat surged out like molten lava, flooding her veins!
A blaze of cherry light burned in her pupils—
By sheer will, she had forced open the door to the Domain, unlocking its power even if only through a tiny fracture!
In that instant, her maxed-out speed climbed again—an absurd, overwhelming second wind!
She flashed past Ardan.
Ardan's face froze—
Chiyono O's stride had become looser, stronger, each step pulling the earth's power into her body!
Cherry blossoms danced in her gaze—the world turning to fleeting, breathtaking beauty.
Gasps echoed from the stands as the pink silhouette tore free from all restraint, leaving the others behind!
Impossible!
"She's still accelerating?!"
"It's not over yet!!!" Ardan roared, throwing every last drop of stamina into one final attempt.
But—
She couldn't close the gap.
It widened before her eyes.
Chiyono O was unstoppable now. The world fell away behind her—only the finish line remained.
She wasn't running anymore.
She was burning—turning her life, her everything, into unmatched light and heat!
The line was there—
And she tore through it first, overwhelming and absolute!
"Victory—!! Sakura Chiyono O!!! With an unbelievable late burst on the final stretch!"
"She's gone beyond her limits! The glory of the Japan Derby belongs to—Sakura Chiyono O!!"
The announcer's scream, voice cracking with raw excitement, roared above Tokyo Racecourse.
(End of Chapter)
"The glory of the Japan Derby belongs to—Sakura Chiyono O!!!"
The commentator's thunderous roar shook the stadium, met by a deafening wave of applause and cheers.
At the finish line, the cherry-haired girl panted heavily. The dreamlike glint in her eyes from moments ago had already faded away—an illusion, fleeting as a blooming flower at dusk.
Listening to the cheers rising for her from all around, Sakura Chiyono O turned in a daze, glancing at the sea of faces beyond the rails.
"That was amazing, Chiyono O!"
"Beautiful run!"
"Congratulations!"
"Fantastic!"
From the stands came wave after wave of praise and congratulations.
The voices surged toward her like a warm tide, washing over the girl who stood before the finish line, her chest heaving violently.
Her breathing burned in her lungs, each inhale laced with pain. Her legs felt as heavy as if filled with lead, trembling beyond her control.
But none of that mattered now.
I… won… Did I really win…?
She blinked slowly, looking at the empty stretch of turf beyond the finish, then down at her own hooves—still trembling, covered in grass and dirt.
An exhaustion as heavy as a mountain pressed down on her, threatening to swallow her whole. Yet, from deep within her heart, a stronger feeling was spreading—delayed, but powerful.
Joy.
She tried to smile, but the tears came too fast.
Lifting a hand to wipe them away only made it worse—they flowed like a broken dam, until her vision blurred entirely.
After a few trembling breaths, she finally straightened her back, and turned toward the fans supporting her, smiling as brightly as the sun.
She waved, laughing through her tears.
The crowd's cheers only grew louder.
Clap clap clap—!
From the stands, Kuroha and the others applauded, smiling knowingly.
Behind them—
Maruzensky's eyes were already red as she sat, unmoving, in her seat. She watched her junior at the finish line, happily waving to the crowd, and silently offered her heartfelt blessing.
"Chiyono O… was that just now…?"
Inari One tilted her head. She wasn't entirely sure about what she'd just seen, so she asked.
"I think so." Fujimasa March answered.
It had only lasted for a few seconds in the final stretch, but to those who already possessed the Domain, it was unmistakable—like a firefly glowing in the dark.
Yet the light had vanished almost immediately, leaving them uncertain again.
So, all eyes turned to Kuroha for an answer.
He didn't play coy—
"When you girls first learned about the Domain, you stepped into it fully. But most Uma Musume—even if they can use the Domain—can only maintain it in short bursts. Sustaining it for an entire race, like my 'True Self' state, is almost impossible.
"But… there's another way to enter it for a short time—"
His tone sharpened.
"Through extreme willpower."
"Under the right conditions, sheer will can bypass every other requirement—and see the Domain."
Uma Musume are a species blessed by the gods, carrying infinite mysteries in their roots.
Through willpower, one can force open the power of True Blooming ahead of time.
Through willpower, one can break past their limits and catch a glimpse of the gates to Creating an Era.
But such a feat was always fleeting—a miracle that lasted only an instant.
That was why the winner of the Japan Derby was often called "the luckiest Uma Musume of her generation."
She poured all her lifetime's luck into this one race, burned herself to the fullest, and bet everything on creating a miracle.
Without Kuroha's guidance, Sakura Chiyono O would have burned herself out here—then, after forcing a comeback the next year, suffered a crushing defeat at Inari One's hooves.
A tragic ending.
"What is… the Domain?"
The cool, even voice made everyone turn.
Oguri Cap was tilting her head slightly, her expression surprisingly innocent for her tone.
She had no idea what Fujimasa March and the trainer had just been talking about.
March frowned.
"Oguri… didn't you see it just now?"
"?" Oguri Cap blinked, tilting her head again.
"When Chiyono O crossed the line—there was a light around her."
Oguri blinked rapidly, trying to recall the fleeting moment. Her clear eyes focused deeply, but after a pause, she shook her head slowly.
"Mmm… no, I didn't see it."
She hesitated, then added, "But… the feeling she gave off when she crossed… it was different."
She tried to put into words the oppressive force she'd sensed.
"It felt… like she had something I didn't."
"…Oguri."
March's gaze grew complicated.
Ever since learning from the trainer that Inari One had touched the Domain long ago—albeit in an unstable form—March had assumed a natural talent like Oguri Cap must have done the same.
But now… she realized she'd been wrong.
Watching the girls' exchange, Kuroha fell into thought.
Right now, Oguri Cap had faced almost no real hardship.
Her training and development, from his perspective, were poor—holding back a talent that could stand at the pinnacle of her era, locking it inside a cage.
…Could Oguri Cap beat Fujimasa March right now?
He doubted it.
His Body and Breath Perception told him her stats were likely around 800 across the board—a monstrous level.
It was no surprise that after summer training camp, she could defeat Central Grade 1-level Uma Musume purely through brute force.
But…
A mere hundred-point stat gap wouldn't be enough to leap over March's far superior racecraft and her possession of the Domain.
Impossible.
Kuroha came to a conclusion—Oguri Cap was not yet Fujimasa March's equal.
The Central training standards of this era were pitiful—no technical depth, no planning, even race schedules were a mess.
"Maruzen."
She blinked, wiping her eyes. "What is it, Kuroha?"
"After the Derby, give Chiyono O a few months' rest."
"Wait—did something happen to her?!" Maruzensky's face showed rare anxiety.
Kuroha chuckled softly.
"No… nothing's wrong. The side effects of her over-acceleration during True Blooming aren't there. But… this race drained her mentally.
"It'd be best to stop training and just let her have fun for a while."
"One month from now is summer training camp, right? You could take her out to enjoy herself."
Maruzensky tapped her lips, thinking.
"Where will you be going for camp, Kuroha?"
"?" He gave her a look. "Why are you asking?"
Her eyes lit up, leaning forward slightly, her tone carrying the faintest, almost hidden hint of coyness—
"Of course, so I can bring Chiyono O-chan to play too~!"
You… do you really just want to "play" with her?
Kuroha eyed the brown-haired speedster with suspicion.
"Haven't decided yet. I'll plan it after reviewing the Tokyo Derby results."
(End of Chapter)
After a few more words, everyone went their separate ways.
Oguri Cap said that seeing such strong opponents in the race had fired her up, and she wanted to go for a run.
Meanwhile, Maruzensky, Kuroha, and the others headed toward the runners' passage.
After all, they'd spent over half a month with Sakura Chiyono O, and had become good friends.
Coming together to welcome her back in triumph was naturally a joyful thing.
Even after the Japan Derby had ended, Tokyo Racecourse still carried the heat of excitement in the air.
The cheers of the crowd seemed yet to fade, and every corner buzzed with talk of the newly crowned Derby champion—Sakura Chiyono O.
At that moment—
From the quiet exit of the runners' passage, Sakura Chiyono O emerged.
Her steps were slow, each one heavy as if it took everything she had left, proof of the toll that extreme battle had taken on her body.
Yet, in stark contrast to her lingering exhaustion, her eyes shone brilliantly—clear and unwavering, burning with the light of victory.
Seeing Kuroha, she forced her tired back straight and approached him, giving a deep bow.
"Kuroha-sensei… I was lucky… to win."
Her voice was hoarse, but carried a resolve she had never shown before.
Kuroha looked at her—this freshly crowned Derby champion—and nodded with a faint smile.
"I saw it clearly. That wasn't luck."
"Everything you've worked for finally bloomed."
"You've become strong, Chiyono O."
Hearing that, a blush rose to her pale cheeks.
Those words flowed into her like a warm current, instantly washing away her fatigue and making her stand a little taller.
"Thank you, everyone… I'll work even harder."
At that moment, Maruzensky stepped forward with a bright grin.
"That was an amazing victory, Chiyono O-chan! That final burst of speed—it made my blood boil!"
She placed a hand on the cherry-haired girl's head and ruffled it fondly.
"M-Maruzen-senpai…"
Chiyono O ducked her head in embarrassment, unable to hide her shyness.
"Congratulations, Chiyono O!"
The others gathered around, smiling sincerely.
Their warm gazes gathered on her, filling the once quiet corner of the passage with the light of victory and friendship.
Feeling the weight of that warmth, her pale cheeks deepened in color.
It was the look of someone carrying both overwhelming fatigue and overwhelming happiness.
Still, her body swayed slightly, betraying her exhaustion.
Kuroha noticed immediately.
"Go rest in the lounge for now. Your body needs recovery."
"This victory is your medal, but right now, getting your strength back is the top priority."
His eyes flicked to her legs, noticing the subtle trembling.
"You spent too much today."
"…Okay, sensei."
She replied softly—then, after a brief pause, glanced at him shyly.
"What is it?" he asked, catching her look.
"It's just… um… sensei, could you… give me another… massage?"
After struggling to get the words out, her eyes sparkled with embarrassment and hope.
"…."
Kuroha stared at her for a moment—then at her own trainer, who had just arrived.
The woman in business attire stood frozen, utterly stunned by what she had just heard.
"Chiyono O, you can't say things like that! It's too shameless!"
Driven by concern for her "girl," she bonked Chiyono O on the head, then bowed apologetically to Kuroha before dragging the pitifully protesting girl away.
Once her trainer had taken her, Kuroha said his goodbyes to Maruzensky and left with Fujimasa March and Inari One, heading back to Oi Tracen Academy.
As for Tokai Teio and Mejiro McQueen—
Those two little lolis were Central students anyway, so Kuroha left them to return with Maruzensky.
The scenery outside the car window flew by as Kuroha drove, his mind already moving to the next phase of planning.
Before the July summer training camp—
For his own girls…
Inari One didn't have any urgent races coming up, but Kuroha still wanted her to win at least once before camp.
It would serve as a warm-up and earn a bit more system PT.
In June, Kanazawa Racecourse would host a graded race called the "Million Stone Prize." That seemed perfect.
As for Fujimasa March, she had only one race left—June 8th's Tokyo Derby.
But her biggest scheduled rival, Seiran Nichirin—who had undergone True Blooming twice—was still hospitalized, unlikely to return until October or November.
At this point, March had no real competition in the local circuit.
With nearly 700 in every stat plus her "True Self" state, aside from Inari One, not even the strongest Senior Year local racers could beat her.
A race Kuroha had once highly prioritized back at Kasamatsu now seemed no more challenging than the Baby Cup.
As for the two lolis—Tokai Teio and Mejiro McQueen—
They were still far from True Blooming. Basic physical training remained their main focus.
"…When I think about it, I've already planned everything out."
Realization hit—none of his girls needed immediate extra attention.
"Instead… there's my Central Trainer License exam."
"It's on June 1st…"
After more than three months focused entirely on his girls, it was time to turn back to himself.
Life flowed on in a steady rhythm.
Mornings, when Tracen Academy was still under a light mist, he would already be at the track, guiding March and Inari One through morning drills.
Every sprint, every endurance run was watched closely, with even the smallest errors quickly corrected.
When their morning training ended and the two went to class, Kuroha would dive into studying for the Central Trainer exam.
Afternoons were split between guiding March and Inari One again, and supervising Teio and McQueen's basic work—though, usually, only Teio needed "discipline," much to the delight of her friends who got to watch her get her butt smacked every so often.
Time flew by in that steady rhythm—until, before he knew it, it was June 1st.
On exam day, Kuroha arrived fully prepared, calming his breathing before stepping into the testing hall.
He had reviewed every topic many times, confident he knew them all inside and out.
Still—exams had a way of making you nervous.
He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and when he opened them, they burned with confidence.
The test began—he strode in with certainty.
When it ended, he walked out… a little dumbfounded.
"That was… easy?"
It wasn't that he'd failed—just that the questions were so easy it left him confused.
What had he been studying so hard for?
He felt like even his just-graduated self, fresh to Kasamatsu, could have passed without issue.
Glancing at the clock—thirty minutes.
"…Whatever. A pass is a pass."
Exhaling, he stepped out into the bright summer sun.
The weight that had been on his chest slid away.
Though the process had been unexpectedly simple, the result was what mattered—
The Central Trainer License was basically his.
All that remained was the November review.
Soon, he would truly be a certified Central Trainer.
Another step toward my life's goal.
(End of Chapter)
Three days had passed since Kuroha passed the written exam for his Central Trainer License.
His routine life had continued as usual.
The only difference was that whenever he brought Fujimasa March to his privately rented training track, some trainers and Uma Musume would send them cautious, almost tense looks.
At Oi Tracen Academy, the atmosphere had grown subtly tense ever since March returned triumphant from the Haneda Cup.
The strength of Seiran Nichirin in the Classic Year was something every Oi trainer knew well—
Unmatched stamina.
Sharp race sense.
And that suffocatingly overwhelming late kick.
Even before March transferred to Central, Nichirin's presence was enough to make many local racers feel crushed.
But after March's transfer—
Nichirin had seemingly honed her skills for the sole purpose of defeating this gray-haired prodigy.
In the Keihin Cup, she led from the front all the way, disrupting the pace of the entire field until all behind her slowed.
In the Haneda Cup, she suddenly used a full-speed escape tactic, nearly dragging every other rival into collapse.
Even so, when Nichirin pushed herself to the absolute limit to keep up, she was completely shattered by March's absurd, almost unnatural, second-stage straight burst.
The victory had been so overwhelming it was like dropping a massive boulder into still water—sending shockwaves throughout the academy.
Oi's trainers debated endlessly—
Awe at March's unimaginable explosive power mixed with anxiety over how to deal with such a monster in future races.
Out on the track, when Uma Musume trained, glances toward that ash-gray silhouette grew more and more complicated.
That invisible pressure seemed to radiate from Kuroha's personal training room, spreading through every track and every rest room.
Between training sets, Kuroha spoke.
"Feel it?"
March, catching her breath, took the water bottle he offered but didn't drink right away. She knew exactly what he meant.
"March, right now… you're the center of the storm."
His sharp eyes locked onto hers.
"Everyone is watching you, studying you, searching for your weaknesses."
"They'll use everything they can to stop you on the track."
"This is the fate you bear as a strong one—as a star that shines the brightest."
His voice was low, powerful—stating an unshakable truth.
"The Tokyo Derby—
Even without Seiran Nichirin—
It might still be many times harder than the Haneda Cup."
Though his words were serious, there was a faint smile in his eyes.
Because he knew—when the gap in strength grew too great, all the strategy in the world became meaningless.
Especially for a front runner.
If you couldn't block her start, couldn't match her stamina, and couldn't beat her final kick…
Then there was no way to win.
Still, Kuroha wanted March to understand—
If she had resolved to run endlessly on this stage, to take victory without end, she had to be ready for what came with being the brightest star.
To carry the expectations of thousands of eyes.
To face the challenges of countless opponents.
And even so—she would have to let her hooves crush all doubt and pressure underfoot.
To let every breath become a blade tearing down walls.
Hearing him, March thought of some of the looks her classmates had given her between classes—
Some filled with admiration, some with kindness, but most… burning with unyielding fighting spirit.
Her fingers tightened on the bottle, the chill of the water doing nothing to cool the fire in her chest.
Kuroha was right—
In Oi Tracen Academy right now…
She was the center of the storm.
The strongest Classic Year racer in the local circuit—Fujimasa March.
"Center of the storm…" she murmured. Sweat slid down her temple.
She tilted her head back, gulped down a mouthful of water, swallowing the invisible pressure along with it—turning it into pure fuel.
Then her eyes snapped up—
The silver-white light flashing in them burned without a trace of fear or doubt.
Only crystal-clear battle intent, blazing almost to combustion.
Her gaze pierced the stuffy air of the training ground, already locking onto every possible obstacle and rival she would meet in future races.
"Sensei."
Her voice was low, but steady.
"Storm, boulder—it doesn't matter…"
She stretched slightly, the silver light in her eyes hardening into something almost tangible.
A torrent of silver-white energy surged from her body, vast and unstoppable, like a storm breaking over the horizon.
"As long as it's in my way—"
She tilted her head toward Kuroha, a smile sharp with pride.
"I'll crush it."
Before he could reply, she turned and walked away, step by step back onto the empty track.
With every hoofbeat, the silver streams rose from beneath her feet, spiraling into whirlpools.
The whirlpools grew more numerous, spun faster, tighter—
Until they became a storm that seemed to reach from earth to sky, engulfing everything.
It was more than just declaring herself the storm's center—
It was announcing that the storm itself was unstoppable.
Not arrogance—
But iron conviction, forged through trials and absolute strength.
"March…"
Not far away, Inari One froze mid-run.
She watched the girl stepping forward, stunned for a moment—then her lips curved.
A terrifying red flame erupted from her eyes, hotter than ever.
"Inari One, what are you staring at?!"
Kuroha's sharp voice snapped her out of it.
The heat vanished instantly, leaving only a sulking little fox who lowered her head and got back to running.
After scolding her, Kuroha's eyes returned to March.
The smile in his gaze deepened into a quiet certainty.
He picked up his clipboard, pen tapping lightly on paper as he followed her galloping form.
"Good."
"Your resolve is set. Your future is clear."
"March, you're only one step away from truly becoming a racehorse that creates an era."
"In the Tokyo Derby… show your full brilliance."
He called up her stat panel.
[Fujimasa March]
Track Aptitude: Turf C / Dirt A
Distance Aptitude: Short B / Mile B / Medium A / Long F
Running Style Aptitude: Front Runner B / Pace Chaser A / Late Surger C / End Closer D
Unique Skill: Ode of the Wind Lv. 4
Domain: Awakening
Skills: Good Track, Rainy Day, Wait and See, Professor of Curvature, Focus, Bad Track Conditions, Positioning Talent
Speed: 722
Stamina: 713
Power: 635
Gut: 701
Wit: 704
Every stat except Power had passed 700—already surpassing the post–True Blooming Sakura Chiyono O.
Her Medium Distance aptitude had risen from B to A during recent training, and her unique skill had leveled up to 4.
On the track, the silver storm tightened, March's speed reaching its peak.
Only those burning silver eyes were clearly visible—
Every hoofbeat was like a thunder god's hammer, echoing through the empty grounds.
Kuroha closed his notebook in satisfaction.
The Tokyo Derby would not just be another race—
It would be the stage for March to declare her dominance over the entire local circuit.
The true beginning of the "storm" sweeping the nation and shaking Central.
"…If March fills in the last gap to the second stage of the Domain in the Derby…"
"What will Rudolf do?"
Kuroha's brows rose slightly.
As far as he knew, there wasn't a single active Central Uma Musume right now who had reached the second stage of the Domain.
"…They're all here with me?"
His gaze drifted to the fire and storm on the track, and his expression grew faintly amused.
(End of Chapter)
Central Tracen Academy's affiliated hospital—
Established directly under the Central URA Association, it is a medical center dedicated to treating and rehabilitating Uma Musume injured during training or racing.
At this moment—
Inside one of its wards, two Uma Musume lay in bed, both wearing expressions of frustration.
Beside them, a cherry-haired girl sat peeling apples.
The three were none other than Mejiro Ardan, Dido Shooter, and Sakura Chiyono O, now ten days into their stay at the hospital after the Japan Derby.
Sakura Chiyono O carefully stripped the skin from an apple, then looked up at her two bedridden friends.
Mejiro Ardan lay on her side, her long, glassy-blue hair spilling across the pillow, eyes distant as they gazed out the window.
Dido Shooter, irritated, shifted her position, her left leg in a cast as she grumbled, "Damn this injury!" (TL: I still can't find if the name is correct or not T.T)
Since the Derby ended, their trainers had noticed something off in their gait.
A quick hospital check led to a doctor's order—mandatory observation and no walking until further notice.
"Ardan, Dido, want some fruit?"
Chiyono O waved the apple in front of Ardan's face.
The Mejiro girl turned, taking it with a faintly strained smile.
"I really envy you, Chiyono O—you're still so full of energy."
She actually felt a bit helpless.
Chiyono O had unleashed such incredible acceleration on the final straight… and walked away fine.
She, on the other hand, was told she had severe muscle fiber wear in her ankle.
Without a few months' rest, it could turn into tendonitis.
Chiyono O didn't know what to say, but seeing her friend's downcast expression made her feel a bit low too.
"I just got a little lucky, that's all."
"…Dido, you have some too?"
She held another slice out to Dido Shooter, who was staring at the ceiling with an annoyed look.
"…Thanks."
The yellow-hooded racer sighed, glanced at the apple, then took it and muttered thanks before biting in.
"The doctor said you just need to rest for a while—you'll be fine soon," Chiyono O encouraged.
"Hmph, of course," Dido Shooter snorted. "A mere leg injury? I'll be back in no time!"
"…The Kikuka Sho is out of the question, though," Ardan murmured between small bites. "That's a shame."
"Speaking of which, summer training camp is coming up… and here we are—" Dido wiggled her casted left leg—
"Not going anywhere. Muteki and the others will be at the beach, and we'll be stuck in Tokyo like a couple of cripples."
Ardan chuckled softly and offered, "Then once we're discharged, how about we form our own little travel group? My family has a private island—it's perfect for both leisure and recovery."
Her smile was poised as she raised one finger.
Chiyono O and Dido Shooter exchanged looks—both immediately picturing Ardan walking gracefully over a carpet of rose petals, flanked by two lines of black-suited bodyguards and elegant maids, all chanting in unison: "Welcome home, Ojou-sama!"
Dido Shooter burst out laughing, breaking the silence.
"Ardan, that's way too flashy! You even have a private island?!" She waved her casted leg in mock exaggeration, grinning wide.
Ardan touched her lips and laughed lightly. "It's just sitting there unused. If you'd like, I could arrange it right away."
Silent flex—most lethal kind.
Chiyono O and Dido could only stare, speechless.
Then Chiyono O, glancing at their cast-bound legs, suddenly remembered something and smacked her forehead.
"Oh right—our trainer can treat leg injuries!"
The two on the beds froze.
"…Who can treat leg injuries? Your trainer?"
Dido tried to picture Chiyono O's trainer—her mind conjuring the image of an unmarried, near-forty, strict and old-fashioned woman.
Chiyono O quickly waved her hands, realizing they'd misunderstood.
"No, no—not my trainer. A trainer at Oi Tracen Academy. Kuroha—that's it, Kuroha-sensei!"
"When I hurt my leg after the Satsuki Sho, Maruzen-senpai sent me to him. In just half a month, I was completely healed!"
"Kuroha…?" Dido's face stayed blank, but Ardan blinked.
She remembered now—recently, she'd run into her little sister Mejiro McQueen in the cafeteria, caught her sneaking sweets, and teased her a bit.
She'd asked who her trainer was—McQueen had said the name: Kuroha.
"…McQueen's trainer?" Ardan tilted her head slightly.
"Half a month?" Dido gave Chiyono O a skeptical look.
"The Satsuki Sho ended and you took half a month off… but we still saw each other plenty. Your leg didn't seem bad at all."
Chiyono O thought for a moment, then explained, "Sensei said I'd overdone my True Blooming during the Satsuki Sho. My body couldn't handle the sudden jump in power."
"…Then… I don't really understand the details," she admitted sheepishly after fumbling for words.
"But my leg really didn't feel right. Sensei and Maruzen-senpai both said that if I'd raced in that condition for the Derby, I might've fractured something!"
"After half a month of treatment, though, my leg was completely fine—and I was allowed to run the Derby."
Dido and Ardan looked at each other, silent—but inwardly, they believed her.
They'd both seen that final stretch—Chiyono O's double burst of acceleration.
Ardan's own ankle muscles had been so damaged from keeping pace that she'd nearly developed inflammation.
And yet the one who'd pushed harder, Chiyono O, had walked into the hospital with nothing more than "a bit of fatigue—just rest and drink hot water," according to the doctor.
It made no sense.
"But… he's a trainer. Does he even have the time to help us recover?" Dido raised the key point, lying back again.
"…That's true," Chiyono O said belatedly.
The two bedridden racers shared a silent, exasperated thought—
Chiyono O, you're already calling him 'Sensei' without the name? Your own official trainer would cry if they heard that.
"McQueen's trainer, huh…" Ardan's expression shifted to decision.
"When McQueen comes by later… I'm going to make her tell me everything."
(End of Chapter)
"...?"
It felt like someone's eyes were on her.
Mejiro McQueen paused from packing her schoolbag, glancing left and right before tilting her head in puzzlement.
"McQueen~"
Outside the classroom, Tokai Teio was energetically waving at her, calling for her to hurry over.
McQueen responded with a smile.
She gracefully finished packing her bag, picked it up, and walked out of the classroom to meet Teio.
The two little lolis walked together down the slightly noisy hallway.
"Dadada dadada"
The little loli with crescent-shaped bangs walked cheerfully, humming a little tune she made up on the spot.
Her mood was clearly excellent.
"Today, I'm definitely going to make Trainer teach me how to run as fast as Fujimasa-senpai!"
Teio was psyching herself up, her eyes sparkling like stars.
McQueen, following beside her, gave a helpless smile.
"Teio, don't start fooling around again."
"McQueen, you don't want to?"
"I do... but we still have to follow Trainer's pace."
The two lolis chatted as they walked out of the school building.
At that moment, a sweet, clear voice came from behind them.
"Teio!"
A reddish-brown, twin-tailed little Uma Musume jogged up to Teio, leaning her head forward slightly.
"Are you going for training again?"
"Ah, it's Neicha!"
The socially awkward Teio blurted out her name right away.
"Yeah! Her Majesty is working hard to become the undefeated Triple Tiara horse!"
"But Neicha can't train the same way I do~"
Teio playfully wagged her finger.
"Because we haven't finished growing yet, if we can't properly grasp... grasp..."
"Grasp the training intensity," McQueen calmly filled in.
"Mhm! Yes! If we can't grasp the training intensity, it'll cause irreversible damage to our growth!"
Hearing this, the reddish-brown twin-tailed Uma Musume genuinely praised:
"Teio, you really are amazing~"
"Heh heh, of course! Who do you think I am?!" The little loli's nose was almost pointing to the sky.
But then, her tone shifted: "Still, Neicha is amazing too! You have such good grades, and so many people in the country like you! I like you too, Neicha!"
"But no matter what, first place will always belong to Her Majesty Teio!"
This string of praise made the excellent student's cheeks blush.
"Uu... being liked like that feels a bit embarrassing..."
"Neicha, are you going home?"
"Mhm, nothing much to do this afternoon."
"Then let's walk together!"
The three little lolis hopped along through Central Tracen Academy.
Until, as they passed by a training field—
McQueen suddenly stopped, gazing into the distance.
"What is it, McQueen—?"
Teio noticed her friend's pause and curiously looked toward the training ground too.
From their vantage point, they saw—
A woman in a sharp, neat suit, her expression focused and serious, tightly holding a stopwatch while watching a gray long-haired Uma Musume race along the track.
That Uma Musume was petite, yet her speed was astonishing.
She ran like lightning, each stride pounding against the ground with a thunderous crack.
In the blink of an eye, she had finished a lap.
The female trainer glanced at the stopwatch, then quickly walked over to the gray-haired Uma Musume, clearly eager to share the results.
"That looks like Tamamo Cross-senpai and Trainer Komiyama, doesn't it?"
Nice Nature thought for a moment before speaking.
McQueen quietly observed the long-haired senpai below, speaking softly:
"Tamamo-senpai even won the Spring Tenno Sho before—she's one of the strongest active Central horses right now!
They're probably preparing for the Takarazuka Kinen."
As a member of the Mejiro family, she paid close attention to each year's major races.
For this year's Spring Tenno Sho winner—Tamamo Cross—she was quite familiar.
Teio stared in a daze at Tamamo Cross's earlier speed.
"So fast... that speed just now..."
It reminded her of watching Fujimasa March and Inari One running at Mokuha's training ground—
Not because of the speed itself, but because of an indescribable quality.
Her blue eyes seemed to gleam faintly.
As one of the most gifted of the next generation, even without her True Blooming, her talent still surged within her.
"I... could I also...?"
The thought suddenly popped into the little loli's head.
But she quickly shook it away and grinned excitedly.
"Speaking of which, the Takarazuka Kinen is also a G1 race, right? Tamamo-senpai really is amazing!"
McQueen gave a light nod, her eyes still fixed on the field.
Next to her, Nice Nature spoke softly:
"But in the Takarazuka Kinen, Akitsu-senpai will be racing too—she's the queen of Medium distance. Can Tamamo-senpai beat her?"
"No matter what, that race will be incredible!"
Teio giggled, draping an arm over each friend's shoulder.
"Come on, let's go! I have to work hard too!"
"Teio, don't trouble Trainer again today."
"Got it, got it! Of course I'll listen to Trainer!"
Even as she said that, her little head was still replaying the sight of Tamamo Cross's lightning run, and her steps unconsciously quickened.
The three small figures, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, left the edge of the training field and continued toward their destination.
On the track—
Tamamo Cross slowed to a stop, lightly panting, sweat soaking her gray bangs and clinging to her fair skin.
Even from a distance, her eyes shone with fighting spirit, mingled with the satisfaction of completing a high-intensity workout.
"Tamamo, your condition's been fantastic lately!"
Komiyama Katsumi approached with the stopwatch, her face brimming with joy.
Tamamo wiped her sweat with a towel, answering with a carefree smile.
"Still a long way to go—if I don't want that monster catching up, this speed isn't enough!"
"Monster... you mean you're still thinking about Oguri Cap?"
Komiyama handed her a water bottle.
The girl accepted it and took a few big gulps, then wiped her mouth, her smile sharpening into something stubborn and determined.
"Yeah, that Oguri Cap is definitely my destined rival!"
"...Though she probably doesn't even know I think that yet."
Tamamo laughed, stretching her muscles before handing the bottle back.
As she spoke, her gaze unconsciously drifted toward the entrance of the training ground—
As if she could see far beyond the buildings.
"But it's fine!"
Her voice suddenly rose, as though declaring to herself—and challenging an unseen opponent.
"In the Takarazuka Kinen, I'll definitely win! I'll make everyone remember the name Tamamo Cross!"
Her clear, forceful voice, full of a young girl's tenacity, echoed across the empty training field.
Komiyama looked at the petite girl before her, packed with explosive energy. In her eyes there was pride—but also a touch of quiet concern.
She knew just how deep Tamamo's obsession ran. That kind of resolve could be a powerful engine... but also a double-edged sword.
"Alright, enough for now."
Komiyama put away the stopwatch and bottle, patting Tamamo on the shoulder with a gentle tone.
"It's dinner time. You need to relax a bit and replenish your energy."
Hearing this, Tamamo's tense aura eased slightly.
Komiyama was right—she knew her physical limits well.
But every time she thought of that ash-gray figure echoing in her memory, that sense of urgency made her want to run another lap, just a bit faster.
"Yeah yeah, you're so naggy, Komiyama."
Her words were complaining, but the corners of her mouth curled into a small smile.
"Alright—one last lap!"
Soon, the track once again held the figure of the "White Lightning" racing like the wind.
(End of Chapter)
After parting ways with Nice Nature at the school gate, Tokai Teio and Mejiro McQueen headed straight to the personal training ground Kuroha had rented.
"Trainer——!!!"
The moment they reached the track, Tokai Teio skipped energetically over to where Kuroha was sitting on the side.
With a sudden leap, she wrapped herself around his leg and tried to climb up to his shoulders.
"Smack!"
Kuroha's quick reflexes caught the mischievous little girl by the armpits, lifting her high into the air.
"Teio…"
He looked at the dangling Tokai Teio with a helpless expression.
Even suspended midair, Teio wasn't afraid in the slightest — instead, she reached out happily, wanting Kuroha to hold her in a hug.
"Trainer, what are we training today? Can we run yet?"
"Teio, didn't I tell you before to greet your trainer properly?"
McQueen walked over with measured steps. Even at her young age, she carried herself with the grace of a noble lady.
She set down the single-shoulder bag she carried.
Kuroha glanced down at the little koala clinging to his arm and sighed. Carefully, he set her back on the ground.
"Teio, how many times have I told you — don't be so reckless."
His tone carried a hint of reproach, but mostly the indulgence of someone long used to her antics.
Yes, mischievous kids can be troublesome — but Tokai Teio wasn't just any troublemaker.
She might be playful, but she always knew her limits. And with such an adorable face, Kuroha could never truly get mad at her.
As soon as her feet touched the ground, Teio bounced twice in place, tilting her face up. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Trainer, trainer! Can we practice sprints today?"
"Like Tamamo Cross-senpai! Boom— super-duper fast!"
She spread her arms wide to mimic what she'd seen on the training ground earlier.
"Tamamo Cross-senpai?"
Kuroha raised an eyebrow while bending down to pick up the training log beside him.
McQueen nodded lightly and explained in her gentle tone.
"Yes. On the way back, we saw Tamamo Cross-senpai training with Trainer Komiyama, preparing for the Takarazuka Kinen."
Takarazuka Kinen, huh…
Kuroha remembered — that was coming up on the 12th of this month.
Before, as a local trainer, he didn't pay much attention to the exact dates of big central races, even if he knew roughly when they took place. But now that McQueen mentioned it, he understood.
"Takarazuka Kinen… That's the race where Tamamo Cross defeated Akitsu Teio and cemented her status as the 'Strongest Active' horse, right?"
Kuroha's thoughts wandered.
After winning the Spring Tenno Sho and defeating many central powerhouses, Tamamo Cross was just one obstacle away from being recognized as the nation's best —
That obstacle was none other than Akitsu Teio, the reigning middle-distance champion who had swept the Mile Championship, Autumn Tenno Sho, and Yasuda Kinen.
At present, with only a Spring Tenno Sho title, and being a gray-haired Uma Musume, the public perception was still that Tamamo Cross was weaker.
Gray-haired Uma Musume are slow.
That was the belief not just in the Central District, but across the country.
And the first to shatter that stereotype was none other than the much-underestimated, petite Kansai girl — Tamamo Cross.
After her came Oguri Cap's era.
Two top-tier gray-haired Uma Musume in a row shattered the "slow gray" myth.
In the following golden age, Mejiro McQueen rose to the top again.
Three consecutive generations.
Three consecutive top-class gray-haired champions.
The prejudice was buried deep in history.
Kuroha's eyes drifted down to McQueen beside him. The violet-haired girl tilted her head in puzzlement.
"Mm! Tamamo-senpai ran so fast! Just like… just like Fujimasa-senpai and Inari One-senpai!"
Teio hugged Kuroha's leg again and pleaded, "Trainer, trainer, I wanna train like that too!"
Kuroha closed the logbook and ruffled her hair, smiling at her flushed, eager face.
"Wanting to run like Tamamo Cross is a good goal, Teio.
But she got there through countless hours of grueling training.
We have to take it one step at a time. Building a strong foundation is the most important thing."
"Foundation training again…" Teio's little face fell instantly, her lips pouting.
Her earlier excitement faded by half, her shoulders drooping.
"Teio."
McQueen stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm.
"Trainer's plan is for our own good. Without a solid foundation, chasing speed recklessly will only lead to injury.
And don't forget — what did you just tell Nice Nature earlier?"
Teio froze, recalling how she'd just lectured Nice Nature on the importance of not overtraining. Her face reddened instantly.
She scratched her head awkwardly, her ears drooping, her crescent bangs swaying.
"Ugh… fine, you're right, McQueen."
Still a little reluctant, but she stopped fussing.
Kuroha looked at the pair — so different in personality, yet so harmonious together — and smiled faintly.
He crouched down so his eyes were level with theirs, making sure they both understood.
"Good. As usual, start with warm-ups.
McQueen, take Teio through stretches. After warm-up, we'll do standing long jumps and consecutive box jumps.
This will build your lower body's explosive power.
Remember — once the foundation is solid, speed will come naturally."
"Yes, Trainer!" McQueen replied immediately.
Even Teio, for all her liveliness, was serious during training. She set her bag down and followed McQueen to start stretching.
Kuroha nodded in satisfaction.
At one end of the training ground — the present.
Inari One and Fujimasa March were sweating as they ran, flames and wind brewing in their wake.
At the other end — the future.
Two little girls stretching with boundless energy, destined to one day show their brilliance to the entire world.
Time flowed quietly.
Soon, it was June 8th.
Today was the day of the second leg of the South Kanto Triple Crown — the Tokyo Derby.
In the student dormitory of Oi Tracen Academy—
The blare of an alarm clock dragged Inari One from her dreams. She blinked groggily, still half-lost in sleep.
Outside, dawn had only just begun to break, pale light slipping through the curtains to touch the slightly messy room.
She yawned, her fluffy tail drooping and swaying lazily.
Hmm… what day was it again…?
Her gaze drifted to her roommate's empty bed, and clarity returned.
Ah… that's right… today was the Tokyo Derby…
"March—!"
She called out out of habit.
Moments later, a silver-haired figure emerged from the bathroom, eyes half-lidded like a warning not to be so loud first thing in the morning.
Inari One just grinned, hopping out of bed and heading to the desk to get ready.
She tied her signature butterfly ribbon neatly, restoring her twin-tail idol look.
She adjusted her chest bindings in front of the mirror, frowning slightly until she was satisfied everything was secure.
By the time both were ready, the clock had just struck 6:00.
"Let's go!"
Fujimasa March and Inari One stepped out of the dormitory building —
Only to see a familiar figure waiting quietly beneath the cherry tree by the gate.
(End of Chapter)
"Trainer—!"
Inari One waved toward Kuroha.
Fujimasa March, however, jogged straight up to his side.
"Good morning."
Kuroha smiled and rubbed the silver-haired girl's head.
March leaned in slightly to enjoy the touch, but the moment she realized what she was doing, she cleared her throat twice and quickly straightened her posture.
A faint blush lingered on her cheeks, and though she tried to remain composed, her twitching gray ears betrayed her flustered heart.
"Good morning, Trainer," she replied softly.
"You're here pretty early today," Inari One chimed in from behind March, grinning brightly.
Kuroha chuckled. "Don't I always get here this early?"
After a brief moment of banter, Kuroha shifted to business.
"The Tokyo Derby starts today at 5 p.m. This morning's training is basically canceled. We'll focus on warm-up drills and tactical reinforcement."
At those words, the blush vanished from March's face, replaced by razor-sharp focus. The shy young girl from moments ago was gone — in her place stood a top-class racehorse, fully braced to enter the battlefield.
The three walked through the quiet morning campus until they reached Kuroha's private training room.
Once the two Uma Musume sat down, Kuroha unfolded a detailed diagram of Oi Racetrack's course and spread it out on the table.
He was already confident in March's strength — nine parts out of ten. But he still intended to give her a full situational analysis.
This wasn't just for victory.
It was to hone March's race awareness.
The Tokyo Derby was merely one stepping stone. Ahead of her lay countless battles, easy or grueling.
Only by understanding every shift in the race could she avoid panic when it mattered most.
Only then could she take full control of a race's pace in the future.
Once he had their attention, Kuroha spoke evenly.
"You both know it — March, you're going to be everyone's focus today.
"After the Haneda Hai, every trainer and Uma Musume will have studied your tactics under a microscope.
"Except for your few races back in Kasamatsu, I've mostly used a Front Runner strategy for you."
His finger traced the starting gate on the track diagram and circled it.
"To stop your Front Runner style and avoid getting dragged into your rhythm, they'll try everything they can to tangle you up right from the start — to throw off your pace and drain your stamina."
He began sketching with a pencil, illustrating possible 'encirclement' tactics.
Some scenarios showed a pack gunning for the lead together, sandwiching March in the middle.
Others had "suicidal" rivals sprinting alongside her no matter the cost, fighting for the inside lane, or forcing her wide until she had no choice but to slow down — even if they ruined their own race in the process.
In this Tokyo Derby, there were 15 entrants. Fourteen opponents, plus their trainers — 28 brains to work against.
Especially among local trainers, you could never predict just how absurd some of their tactics might be.
March stared at the diagram, her brows knitting. The seemingly messy lines formed a suffocating net full of malice in her eyes.
"Trainer, I—"
She was about to say she'd simply run faster to break free, but Kuroha raised a hand to stop her.
"I'm not showing you this to make you feel pressured," he said with a calm smile. "I'm showing you because these so-called traps… are nothing more than paper walls."
"Paper walls…?"
"That's right. And the reason is— you, March."
"Your top speed, your acceleration, your stamina — these are the true rule-breakers on the track. Against overwhelming strength, these 'traps' will be torn apart in an instant."
He drove the pencil hard across the diagram, drawing a bold arrow straight down the opening stretch, almost punching through the paper.
"Remember this. When the gate opens, don't hesitate. Don't probe.
"Unleash every ounce of power you've built up until now in the very first hundred meters!
"Like a red-hot blade through butter, cut straight through their formation!
"Make it so that anyone who tries to get close to you can't even catch your slipstream!"
His voice carried an undeniable force.
"While they're still fighting each other for position, you'll already be far ahead, controlling the entire race from the front."
Then, with a hint of humor, he added, "But this isn't a full-on runaway."
Kuroha disliked using the Big Escape tactic unless it was absolutely necessary.
The last trace of doubt vanished from March's crimson eyes, replaced by blazing resolve.
"Yes, Trainer. I'll use my speed to shatter every obstacle."
From her seat, Inari One leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly.
In her view, March hadn't yet activated her "True Self" state — but faint silver light already flickered around her, responding to her racing spirit.
"March… you're just one step away now," Inari thought with genuine joy, then glanced toward her own trainer.
She didn't expect Kuroha to look right back at her and wink.
"…!!!"
Inari froze for a split second, her brain short-circuiting.
Her face warmed, and she quickly turned away.
"?"
Kuroha looked puzzled at her sudden avoidance. He had only looked her way because he noticed March showing signs of stepping into the [Domain] stage.
Thinking Inari had recognized that he was stoking March's fighting spirit, he winked as if to say, "Don't say anything."
But why had she turned away like that?
Putting the moment aside, Kuroha nodded slightly, his eyes filled with absolute trust in March.
He rolled up the diagram, his tone easing but still carrying the seriousness of a pre-battle briefing.
"That's the core of the strategy. Now, all that's left is to trust yourself — and trust the legs that carry your dream."
He stood, looking at both girls.
"Go. Do your final warm-up. Get your body completely ready for the fight this afternoon."
"Understood!" March and Inari One answered in unison, their voices brimming with fighting spirit.
In the blink of an eye, it was evening.
Inside Oi Racetrack, the air was thick with tension.
The stands were packed to the brim, the crowd's roar merging into a vast sea of noise. And at the center of it all — one name: Fujimasa March.
They were here to see if the mare who had dominated the Haneda Hai with overwhelming strength could do the same today.
In the prep room, the tension was almost tangible.
Every trainer about to send out a runner for the Tokyo Derby wore a grave expression, repeating last-minute instructions.
Their tactics might differ, but their goal was the same—
Stop the silver storm at any cost!
"Ladies and gentlemen! The moment you've all been waiting for — the Tokyo Derby is about to begin!"
The announcer's voice boomed across Oi Racetrack.
(End of Chapter)
Inside the entry tunnel.
Many Uma Musume were already at the exit, stretching their limbs.
Their expressions were sharp, eyes filled to the brim with fighting spirit.
Then—footsteps.
Slow, steady, drawing closer, pulling every gaze toward them.
In the dim light of the tunnel, a figure came into focus.
A waterfall of silver-white hair swayed gently with each unhurried step, gleaming like molten metal in the racecourse light spilling in from the far end.
A formless pressure spread instantly. For a moment, even the air seemed frozen.
The other girls paused mid-stretch or fell silent mid-sentence. The sunlight caught the silver figure all at once—
And what they felt was a mix of burning fighting intent, wary vigilance, and a faint, instinctive unease.
They could tell: the "Silver Storm" standing before them was even sharper, even more terrifying than she had been at the Haneda Hai.
Her presence was denser now. Oppressive.
Fujimasa March ignored them all, as if their stares didn't exist.
Her stride never faltered.
She cut through the tunnel like a silver blade through the air, the space around her seeming to freeze and tear.
When her flowing hair brushed the shoulder of anyone standing too close, the chill made them instinctively tense and step back.
Outside, the announcer's voice rang out at just the right time.
"And now, our next entrant!"
The girl called glanced briefly at March beside her, fell silent… and could not move.
One by one, the others went out, until only Fujimasa March remained.
"The eye of the storm, huh…"
Her soft murmur echoed in the tunnel.
In her mind, she could hear Kuroha's voice—
"Everyone's watching you. Studying you.
This is the fate of the strong, the destiny of those who shine brightest."
"Our next runner—
The ruler of the Keihin Cup, the multiple-time South Kanto champion, undefeated in two straight graded wins so far!
From Kasamatsu, the Silver Storm who's here to sweep the Tokyo Derby stage—
Number one favorite—Fujimasa March!!!"
The roar from the stands detonated like a tidal wave, threatening to blow the roof off Oi Racetrack.
From the end of the tunnel, that noise and blinding light hit her like a boiling ocean.
March narrowed her eyes, letting the last reflections fade from her crimson pupils.
She stepped into the track.
The cheers doubled in force, battering her like a physical wave.
Countless eyes—hot with anticipation, cold with scrutiny, edged with challenge—all locked on her as if she stood beneath a bank of floodlights.
"So… this is what it's like to be a star?"
She could feel the weight of every gaze.
And strangely… it fanned the fire in her chest.
March walked to her gate.
She stopped before it, resting her fingers on the cold metal. The chill sparked images in her mind—Kuroha's unwavering eyes, and the words he'd spoken without doubt:
"Use your fastest speed—cut through everything like a red-hot blade through butter.
Pierce it all!"
Her crimson eyes blazed with silver light.
It spilled from her gaze, whirling wildly around her body.
"All runners are now loaded!"
From high in the stands, Kuroha's eyes never left her gate.
Above it, silver-white streams of light spiraled upward into the air, swelling as if heralding something momentous.
On his system panel, March's tag—[Domain: Awakening]—flashed again and again.
[Domain]—the ultimate power of a racehorse capable of defining an era.
Reaching it required more than talent, grit, or luck alone.
It required a reason to run.
March had long since found hers.
She had the grit. She had the luck.
And the most vital gift of all—her Body and Breath Perception gave her the instinctive breathing and form of the finest Uma Musume.
Her general skills had sharpened her adaptability and technique.
Heart, body, skill—perfectly balanced.
Even if forged by training, at this moment she was a once-in-a-generation talent.
And now she needed only one trigger to reach the second stage of [Domain].
The light above her swelled, resonating with the lightning in the leaden sky.
"March, you must realize—you already stand atop this era.
Right now, you are the one creating it!"
In the gate, her silver-charged eyes burned like they could burn away the darkness inside.
Her breathing was deep and steady, each inhale drawing in the roar of the crowd, each exhale releasing molten fighting will.
Her mind echoed only with Kuroha's order—
Shatter the rules with your absolute speed!
Pierce it all!
"Dirt 2000m, overcast, heavy going.
The second leg of the South Kanto Triple Crown—Tokyo Derby—begins!"
The gates burst open!
Every rival had made up their mind to block her.
But the instant they moved—
Time froze.
Then a silver-white lightning bolt tore it apart.
The ground shuddered.
March's legs exploded like coiled springs, unleashing her stored power in the very first stride.
She became a streak of light, a burning tailwind cutting through the field.
The carefully woven net collapsed in an instant.
Group leaders who tried to box her in felt nothing but a cold shockwave as she passed.
Those who dove for the inside lane were brushed aside without touching even the hem of her racing silks.
The Silver Storm left chaos in her wake.
All those tactics disintegrated in the face of overwhelming strength.
Running flat out, a thought rose unbidden in her mind—
Are they really this weak?
Or have I grown this much?
The noise of the track faded into the distance.
She remembered Seiran Nichirin, the only one in the locals who could run beside her.
She remembered Haneda Hai, where even Nichirin at her limit couldn't catch her.
She remembered Oguri Cap at the Japan Derby, saying she couldn't even comprehend [Domain].
She remembered her trainer telling her she had absolute strength.
And now—
No one will catch me.
I will take every victory.
I—am the strongest!
Her pupils constricted sharply.
In her mind, a great black wall loomed.
With her will, the cracks in it blazed with light—
And it shattered.
It wasn't her legs that roared—it was her very soul.
The silver light swirling in and around her body surged into a true eruption.
No longer threads—it became a tidal wave of power crashing down into her body.
Her blood roared, every cell boiled.
An indescribable pressure fell upon the track like a natural disaster.
On Kuroha's panel, March's [Domain] tag stabilized at last, shining brilliantly.
Pierce all. Surpass all.
This was the second step of [Domain]—the power to create an era!
Domain—Silver Radiance!!!
The storm descended.
Like a calamity, her aura smothered the rest of the field.
Fear rose from the depths of their hearts.
Every meticulously prepared tactic was reduced to a meaningless backdrop.
Her thoughts were colder, clearer, and more blazing with battle will than ever before.
"Fujimasa March bursts forward again! Unbelievable speed! No one can touch her!"
"Is this… another runaway?!"
The announcer's voice was hoarse with shock.
No one had expected the race to be decided in its opening seconds.
The Silver Storm raged for only a few moments before easing.
March was alone in front, the pack behind in chaos.
She let go of the terrifying boost of the Silver Radiance Domain, running now at her normal limit—
Just as Kuroha had instructed, avoiding being swept up in the high of raw battle.
But even so, no one could draw alongside her.
Through the first bend, the third, and the final stretch—
She crossed the finish line alone.
For several seconds, Oi Racetrack fell silent.
Then, the crowd erupted like thunder, the stands shaking under their feet.
They had witnessed an "invincible" performance.
They had witnessed a top-class Uma Musume deliver a one-of-a-kind display on Oi's dirt.
South Kanto Triple Crown, second leg—complete.
(End of Chapter)
Time flew by.
It had already been three days since Fujimasa March claimed victory in the Tokyo Derby.
During those three days, the girl had used her "reward" as an excuse to stay in Kuroha's dorm and refused to leave.
Coincidentally, these days also happened to be part of the customary post-race vacation Kuroha always gave them, so he simply let her be.
Morning.
Kuroha's biological clock woke him right on time.
He slowly opened his eyes, still a little groggy, and habitually pulled his hand away from a certain warm, soft place.
Moving carefully so as not to wake her, he got out of bed, tucked the blanket snugly over Fujimasa March, and headed to the bathroom to wash up.
"Zha-la-la————"
The sound of running water filled the bathroom. Cold water splashed against his face, chasing away the last remnants of sleep.
He stared into the mirror.
His black hair was slightly messy, his eyes still carrying that faint haze of someone just awake, but his spirit was in full form.
"G1-level physical fitness" — the system hadn't lied to him.
The corners of Kuroha's mouth lifted unconsciously.
In the past two days, Fujimasa March's willful presence had added a lively warmth to what was usually a quiet, empty dorm.
After brushing his teeth, he wiped his face dry and tiptoed back into the room.
Morning sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains.
Fujimasa March was still curled up in the blanket, her breathing even, a suspicious blush lingering on her cheeks.
Last night, she had refused to admit defeat and clung to him until three in the morning.
It was unlikely she'd be waking up any time soon today.
Kuroha lingered for a moment, his gaze softening as it swept over the tips of her short silver hair. Then he quietly went to the kitchen.
The fridge didn't have much left. He took out eggs and bread, deciding to make a simple breakfast.
While preparing it, he opened the system panel.
[Fujimasa March]
Track Aptitude: Turf C, Dirt A
Distance Aptitude: Short B, Mile B, Medium A, Long F
Running Style Aptitude: Front Runner A, Pace Chaser A, Late Surger C, End Closer D
Unique Skill: Ode of the Wind Lv.4
Domain: Silver Radiance!!!
Skills: Good Track Condition, Rainy Days, Wait-and-See, Professor of Curvature, Focus, Bad Track, Positioning Sense
Speed: 814 | Stamina: 823 | Power: 746 | Gut: 801 | Wit: 822
"What a terrifying jump in stats… so this is the power of a Domain?" Kuroha murmured as he cracked the eggs with practiced ease.
Just like Inari One, awakening the second stage of her Domain had boosted Fujimasa March's stats by nearly 100 points.
Her numbers now were comparable to the Oguri Cap he had seen during the Japanese Derby — a true stat monster.
It wasn't just her stats and Domain that had changed.
Originally, her aptitude for Front Runner was only B. But after the Tokyo Derby, it had automatically risen to A.
This realization made Kuroha nod in understanding.
Apparently, even without system skill books, certain conditions could still improve aptitudes.
In the future, the two-time champion — Mejiro Bourbon — had seemingly achieved something similar by relentlessly pushing her physical limits to improve her unsuitable distance aptitude.
Satisfied after reviewing her panel, Kuroha closed it and opened the system shop.
Since Fujimasa March's Tokyo Derby win, he'd earned a generous reward of PT points, plus the 100 PT he'd been saving, and yesterday's winnings from Inari One's Million Stone Prize.
Yes — yesterday, Kuroha had also entered Inari One into a race.
Against competitors whose stats barely reached the 700s, Inari One — whose Speed and Stamina both broke into the 1000s, and had a Domain — was like a tiger in a flock of sheep.
It was basically a Baby Cup.
With those two wins combined, Kuroha's PT reserves were now plentiful enough for a shopping spree.
He browsed the shop.
First up — the newly added item [Body-Strengthening Medicine].
He could skip that for now.
After all, a certain gray-haired beauty had "volunteered" for testing the past two nights and been repeatedly defeated, proving to Kuroha that his "G1-level physical fitness" was absolutely legitimate.
No need to waste precious points for now.
Instead, he bought two things:
[Panacea] — when paired with Body and Breath Perception, it could cure any illness in a Uma Musume. Whether he needed it now or not, it was a must-have.
[Long Distance Aptitude] — Fujimasa March would inevitably face long-distance G1 races after entering the Central circuit. Leaving her with F-level Long aptitude was far too crippling.
Even though the long-distance challenge was still far off, this was a critical investment.
His other two future representatives — Tokai Teio and Mejiro McQueen — would also greatly benefit from it.
Reaching S-level aptitude through training alone was a massive time sink, so integrating long-distance prep into their basic athletic training was essential.
With only 50 PT remaining, Kuroha closed the shop.
The eggs were ready, the edges perfectly golden. He flipped them smoothly, the aroma filling the kitchen.
After plating breakfast, he heard the soft creak of the bedroom door.
Fujimasa March shuffled out, rubbing her sleepy eyes, a few strands of hair sticking up. She was wearing one of Kuroha's shirts, hastily thrown on, the collar open and slightly disheveled.
Her small silver ears twitched adorably.
"Mmm… Trainer~"
Gone was the sharp, commanding aura she showed in public. Instead, she looked like a kitten, mumbling sleepily as she waddled over to him.
Kuroha chuckled, pulled out a chair for her, and ruffled her hair.
"If I didn't wake you, the sun would be burning your backside by now. You stayed up way too late last night — feeling it now, huh?"
She pouted but sat down obediently, her eyes glued to the eggs.
Warm sunlight brushed her hair with a golden edge. Kuroha smiled faintly, poured her a cup of hot milk, and slid it over.
After breakfast, Kuroha sat on the couch scrolling through the news on his phone, while Fujimasa March lay on his lap, drifting back to sleep.
[G2 New Zealand Trophy won! Central Heavy Prize 4-win streak! The gray monster is unstoppable!]
["White Lightning" vs "Mid-Distance Queen" — the Arima Memorial showdown begins!]
It was all Central racing news.
A few days ago, Oguri Cap had crushed another Central Heavy Prize with a devastating seven-length victory.
Even G2-level competitors were no match.
The second headline hyped the upcoming 67th Takarazuka Kinen —
Tamamo Cross, known as the strongest active long-distance Uma Musume, would face Teio, the reigning mid-distance champion.
If Tamamo Cross won, she'd prove her dominance across both middle and long-distance racing, earning the title of Current Strongest.
If Tokai Teio triumphed, her crown as the Mid-Distance Queen would be undisputed.
Kuroha's gaze lingered on the words "Takarazuka Kinen."
This match would undoubtedly be the month's biggest spotlight event.
As for local race coverage… there was almost none.
The Tokyo Derby from two days ago had been buried under Oguri Cap and Takarazuka headlines, with only a few minor articles congratulating the winner.
"This era really is… a little quiet." Kuroha thought.
Before Oguri Cap's complete rise, public enthusiasm for Uma Musume racing was far lower than it would be in the future.
On his lap, Fujimasa March let out a sleepy hum and snuggled in deeper, her silver hair brushing against his palm.
Kuroha's fingers gently combed through her hair as his thoughts drifted — summer training camp prep, Central debut plans, laying the groundwork for future G1 races…
Each step needed careful planning.
Click!
The sound of a key turning came from the front door.
Kuroha turned to see a brown-haired, twin-tailed Uma Musume peeking in — Inari One.
Yesterday, after taking the Million Stone Prize with him, she'd been given the day off.
Looked like she'd just woken up and decided to drop by.
(End of Chapter)
"Trainer! I'm so hungr—"
Inari One's lively voice froze the moment she pushed the door open.
Her bright, fox-like eyes instantly widened, her gaze locking onto the living room sofa as if drawn by a magnet.
"Uh..."
She coughed awkwardly twice, quietly closing the door behind her.
Like a little fox creeping into a chicken coop, she tiptoed to Kuroha's other side.
Seeing Fujimasa March's messy, half-slipped clothing, Inari One covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.
"Trainer, you two weren't—"
Before she could finish, Kuroha gave her a firm pat on the head.
"Mm~"
"Quit fooling around. I saved breakfast for you, so go fill that bottomless stomach of yours."
"Hehe~" Inari One grinned, slipping into the kitchen like a thief.
Moments later, she reappeared with a slice of bread between her teeth, holding a half-full glass of milk, and quietly sat down at the other end of the sofa.
She tucked her legs under herself, watching Fujimasa March's unguarded sleeping face with great interest.
After a while, her amusement faded, and she leaned against Kuroha.
"Trainer~ don't we have any training tasks today?" she asked lazily, chin propped on her hand.
Yesterday's race had been no challenge for her at all.
Forget intensity—Inari One felt like she'd just gone for a light jog before the race ended. She didn't even get the thrill of competing.
"What's this? Not in the mood to slack off today, but suddenly eager to train?" Kuroha teased.
Her cheeks puffed in protest. "I wasn't slacking! I was just tired and needed a break!"
"If you want to train, there's no need to rush. Progress comes from pacing yourself—work and rest in balance."
Kuroha's gaze swept over Fujimasa March, sleeping soundly on his lap, then to Inari One nibbling her bread.
"That said, rest doesn't mean neglect. You still need to maintain your basic fitness. I'll have you do some light recovery exercises this afternoon."
"Eh—"
Though she sounded disappointed, her ears perked at the mention of afternoon training.
"Fine, fine. Trainer's word is law. So what about this morning?"
"This morning?" Kuroha tilted his head with a small smile, giving his phone a slight shake.
"McQueen told me yesterday afternoon that her elder sister wanted to see me. If I had time, I should come to the Mejiro estate."
He recalled McQueen, still catching her breath after training, shyly relaying Mejiro Ardan's invitation.
It was an offer hard to refuse. After all, though he was now McQueen's trainer, he'd never set foot in the Mejiro household, much less met her family formally.
If they took the initiative to invite him and he refused, it would be rude both emotionally and socially.
"The Mejiro family..." Inari One swallowed the last of her bread, her ears twitching in surprise. "That's one of the famous noble families, right?"
"An invitation from McQueen's sister—what do you think?"
"So you're… meeting the parents?"
"Don't talk nonsense!"
He lightly tapped her head again, though a subtle flicker passed through his eyes.
The Mejiro family was one of the most prestigious names in the Central circuit—comparable to Symboli Rudolf's Symboli family, or First Ruby's illustrious household.
Their traditions and influence ran deep.
Mejiro Ardan was the same Ardan who had been overtaken by an explosive burst from Sakura Chiyono O in the Japan Derby, narrowly missing the championship.
Kuroha knew her well enough by reputation—
Born into the noble Mejiro family with legs as fragile as glass, she could have resigned herself to fate.
Instead, she embodied grace and gentleness both inwardly and outwardly.
She'd only ever won a single graded race—G2 Takamatsu-no-miya Kinen—but that wasn't what stood out most to Kuroha.
Two things about her were unforgettable.
First, her love for all things from the East—ingredients, theatre, culture.
Second… her "Fat Horse" nickname.
Compared to McQueen, who was often teased for being "chubby," Ardan's weight was actually higher.
From Kuroha's perspective, though, that was probably just because Ardan was overly well-nourished.
And that "nutrition"…
His eyes drifted to Inari One. She froze mid-chew, ears twitching suspiciously.
"..."
"Seriously, how does this little fox stay so short but still grow that much up top?" he grumbled inwardly.
Checking the time, he finally rose.
"The car from the Mejiro family should be here any minute. I'm heading out."
He carefully laid Fujimasa March down on the sofa, then called to Inari One:
"Play by yourself for a while. I'll be back soon."
"Bye-bye, Trainer," she said around a sip of milk.
Shaking his head with a smile, Kuroha stepped out the door.
Inari One licked the last crumbs of bread from her lips, her tail swaying lazily behind her.
...
Oi Tracen Academy – Main Gate
Outside, the air was crisp, the street quiet.
A driver in a perfectly pressed uniform stood waiting beside a polished black sedan. As soon as he saw Kuroha, he bowed and opened the door.
"Mr. Kuroha, please."
His tone was polite yet formal—the hallmark of a household bred in strict etiquette.
Kuroha inhaled deeply before stepping inside.
A faint, refined fragrance lingered in the car, understated yet elegant.
The door shut softly, sealing off the outside world, and the car rolled smoothly into the bustling Tokyo streets.
Soon, they left the busy main roads for a serene tree-lined avenue.
The tall, verdant canopy gave Kuroha pause.
"Seriously… the Mejiro family really does like their estates tucked away in deep, old-fashioned forest. Feels like I've gone back a hundred years."
If he remembered right, even in the anime, the Mejiro family's retreat looked like this.
After a final turn, the view opened up—
A grand, traditional Japanese-style mansion loomed ahead.
The sedan followed the drive up to the imposing main entrance and came to a stop.
Two lines of impeccably dressed attendants stood ready. One stepped forward, opening the car door with a bow.
"Welcome to the Mejiro Family's retreat, Mr. Kuroha. Miss Ardan has been waiting for you in the tea room."
So it was a retreat.
Kuroha stepped out, gazing up at the dignified architecture with quiet awe.
The Mejiro family truly lived up to its name in the world of horse girls—wealthy, powerful, and steeped in tradition.
(End of Chapter)