This year's Arima Kinen was held on December 23rd. On the day before, the 22nd, Shuta An made a special trip to Central Tracen Academy to check on Tokai Teio and jiro Dober's recent training conditions.
The results left the young man quite satisfied. Both Tokai Teio and jiro Dober had shown improvent on top of their existing foundations. Even if the progress was not yet striking, it was more than acceptable—they had not entered full-power training yet. To reach the level of a first-class Uma Musu, one could not rely only on a body that had yet to undergo rigorous, systematic training.
After completing his inspection, Shuta An also took the opportunity to visit Symboli Rudolf's office and spent so ti conversing with the "Emperor."
Although Oguri Cap's achievents had already surpassed Symboli Rudolf's, the Emperor's prestige had not diminished in the slightest. Symboli Rudolf was not a petty person; unlike Yukio Okabe in the Dream World, she would not harbor resentnt or attempt to create trouble for Shuta An during the Arima Kinen.
As Shuta An prepared to leave, she simply handed him a contract—a revised version of the Academy's standard Trainer employnt agreent.
Shuta An gave it a brief glance, compared it in his mind with the contract Kitahara had once signed, and quickly noted the differences. The annual performance review had been removed, the salary was higher, and the contract term was significantly longer.
The latter two points did not trouble him. He cared little about salary—after remaining in Tokyo for so long, he had long since stopped collecting his Kasamatsu pay. As for the extended term, he had no intention of changing jobs in the first place.
"I have no objections," Shuta An said, folding the contract, "but I can only sign it after Oguri officially retires from the Twinkle Series."
"No problem. There's no rush," Symboli Rudolf replied with a gentle smile.
Before he left, the Emperor's calm encouragent reached his ears.
"Arima Kinen…do your best, Oguri."
"I'll pass it on to her," Shuta An said, lifting a hand in farewell.
The stock market crash from the beginning of the year was still dragging on, and the damage it caused was obvious even at a glance during his trip ho.
Most pedestrians wore dispirited expressions. From ti to ti, small groups gathered to talk, almost always near an Arima Kinen promotional display set up by the URA Association.
On the billboard, Oguri Cap stood in her second racing outfit, her posture flawless and dignified. She held a bouquet of lisianthus, eyes gently closed, as though breathing in their fragrance.
"The flower language of lisianthus is—gratitude, and anticipation for the future," Shuta An murmured. "It suits Oguri perfectly right now. Good thing the Association didn't use chrysanthemums just because it's her retirent race—that would've been far too inauspicious."
Even if he did not believe in such superstitions, he still hoped Oguri's Arima Kinen would begin under a good sign. After all, the Arima Kinen was widely regarded as the 'Grand Finale' of the Twinkle Series—the decisive year-end battle. Any Uma Musu qualified to participate possessed both ability and popularity.
Oguri Cap, naturally, stood at the very top among them.
Yet at this mont, the gray Uma Musu appeared distracted. She sat on the living room sofa, eyes fixed on the television. A financial program was playing—sothing she barely understood—but her attention was not on the screen to begin with.
"The race will be tomorrow at this ti—"
Despite her absolute confidence in her own strength, as the day truly drew near, Oguri Cap could not help feeling tense.
This Arima Kinen was unlike any race she had run before. It was her retirent race—a fierce battle she needed to win to conclude her Twinkle Series career beautifully. Though she had once gone undefeated in the Twinkle Series, all of those past victories now weighed heavily upon her shoulders.
If she were to lose this Arima Kinen, the value of all her accumulated achievents would inevitably be diminished.
"I can't lose…"
The gray Uma Musu whispered the words softly.
When Shuta An returned ho, he imdiately noticed Oguri Cap's condition. Still, he understood that any attempt at persuasion now would be aningless. Though he lacked personal experience in such situations, he rembered clearly how his father had handled them.
"As long as she truly steps onto the track at Nakayama Racecourse, Oguri will forget all of this pressure."
Doing nothing extra was the best approach.
Having reached that conclusion, Shuta An returned to his room and rested.
All necessary preparations before the race were already complete—race tactics finalized, opponents analyzed, and Oguri Cap's equipnt carefully checked. Now, all he had to do was wait quietly for race day to arrive.
At ten o'clock, after taking a thorough bath, the young man locked the door, lay down, and quickly fell asleep.
This ti, upon entering the Dream World, Shuta An opened his eyes without the slightest surprise.
"Shuta-kun, who took several weeks off for personal reasons, officially returns today! Even after weeks without racing, his total wins in Central this year still exceed second-place Yutaka Take by two—currently standing at 116 wins!"
"Considering this year's strike and Shuta An's leave of absence, that number is remarkable. If Shuta-kun maintains full attendance next year, breaking 150 wins is not out of the question."
The comntators and guests spent little ti discussing the horses in the opening race, instead focusing their attention on Shuta An.
Only after ntioning him several tis did they rember their primary task and begin analyzing the physical conditions of the horses scheduled for the day's first race.
"Ann-san, how does it feel to be back in the jockeys' lounge after so long?" Yutaka Take greeted his old friend with a grin.
"Today I have a debut race for a new Racehorse I value highly," Shuta An replied with a smile, tapping his chest lightly. "I'm genuinely excited. I've been saving this partner for two years—I can't wait for everyone to see him."
"Oh?" Yutaka Take raised an eyebrow. "Is it Tokai Teio in the 5R? You're that excited about him?"
"Heh heh…" Shuta An's smile brimd with confidence. "Take-kun, just watch. Next year's undefeated Triple Crown will belong to him."
Yutaka Take's pupils shrank. In all the years he had known Shuta An, he had never heard the top jockey praise a horse so highly.
"Coincidentally, I don't have a riding request for 5R today," he said with a grin. "I'll watch you from here."
Shuta An didn't take many riding requests today—only six in total. Before the fifth race, he had accepted just two invitations.
Both were turf races, chosen deliberately.
The Young man intended to use these two rides to scout the condition of the Nakayama Racecourse turf for the week ahead.
One was preparation for Tokai Teio's debut race; the other, for Oguri Cap's Arima Kinen.
According to the information conveyed by the ranch to Trainer Setoguchi Tsutomu, although Oguri Cap could compete, he could at most display about eighty percent of his condition. That ant Shuta An himself would need to perform at one hundred and twenty percent to secure a perfect outco.
To ride without error, one must first understand the turf.
This, too, was part of so-called "geographical advantage."
"Horse racing really is like warfare," Shuta An thought silently as he sat astride Tokai Teio's saddle. "Timing, terrain, and human harmony—none of them can be missing."
In the first two races, he recorded one victory and one fifth-place finish. A loss in an unridden maiden race no longer unsettled him—but the upcoming maiden race was different.
"Tokai Teio—" The Young man reached out and stroked his neck. "Can I truly draw out your talent? Can you walk a path no stable has ever dared to imagine? Prove it to in this race."
Higashi Ikuo, the stable attendant, glanced at the quiet Shuta An and chose not to disturb him. It was his first ti seeing the current top jockey up close in the paddock ring, and also his first ti seeing him ride Tokai Teio.
He couldn't tell whether Shuta An's calm was habitual or sothing deliberately assud.
But as Tokai Teio was about to be led onto the track, Higashi Ikuo still couldn't help speaking up.
"Shuta-kun… Teio, good luck."
Shuta An gave an OK gesture. Tokai Teio answered with a long, clear neigh.
Tokai Teio's debut race featured sixteen runners—a full gate. Unluckily, he was assigned Gate 16, the far outside.
"It's fortunate this is only a maiden race," Shuta An muttered softly while waiting at the gate. "If this were a Classic and I drew the outside, that would be troubleso."
The nearby racecourse staff pretended not to hear. No one dared respond.
Only after the other fifteen horses had settled into their stalls did Tokai Teio step forward from the outermost lane.
The usually proud "Young Master" seed to understand that this was serious business. He entered the gate obediently.
Once inside, Shuta An did not dare blink. Starting from the far outside was already a disadvantage—he could not afford to make it worse with a poor break.
Perhaps sensing his focus, the starter opened the gates only monts later.
Shuta An missed nothing.
Neither did Tokai Teio.
Without needing instruction, he exploded forward, breaking cleanly from the gate.
But Shuta An did not allow his to run unchecked. He gently tightened the reins and flicked the whip to the left of his head, signaling him to cut inward.
Tokai Teio responded imdiately.
The price, however, was position.
By the ti he slipped into a line Shuta An found acceptable, he had dropped to thirteenth—deep in the pack.
Nakayama's final straight is short, an unfriendly stage for sashi (late-surge) runner. But Shuta An had never intended to run Tokai Teio as a late surger.
As they finished climbing the slope road and approached the first bend, Shuta An increased the pressure of his urging ride.
Tokai Teio accelerated.
In the owner's box, Matsumoto Shoichi raised an eyebrow.
"Accelerating this early?" Owner Uchimura frowned. "At eighteen hundred ters, won't he fade at the end?"
"Trust Ann-san," Matsumoto Shoichi replied without hesitation. "In terms of riding skill and race tactics, no one in Japan surpasses him."
"If he chose to move now, he already knows how to deal with what cos later."
With the early acceleration, Tokai Teio surged from the rear to fifth—at the head of the forward group. At that point, they were still two-thirds down the back straight, with about one hundred ters remaining before the final turn.
"The first thousand ters passed in sixty-point-six seconds," Matsumoto Shoichi said after checking the screen. "Neither fast nor slow—a standard pace."
Nakayama's final turn slopes downhill.
Entering it, Shuta An guided Tokai Teio slightly further inward, sealing off the challengers behind. He no longer needed to worry about being boxed in—the leader, Island Roman, had already spent too much stamina and was drifting outward under centrifugal force.
"Once we straighten, accelerate imdiately," Shuta An planned calmly, adjusting his grip on the whip.
In the jockey's lounge, Yutaka Take watched the broadcast intently.
"An inside attack is solid," he murmured. "But if that's all, it wouldn't justify Ann-san's praise."
His expectations for Tokai Teio were already high.
The mont they entered the final straight, Shuta An prepared to strike.
But before he could, Tokai Teio changed his rhythm on his own.
His speed exploded.
"So fast—!"
This was a burst he had never shown in training. Even Shuta An was startled.
Stride by stride, he swallowed the runners ahead.
Fifty ters later, the only sound Shuta An could hear was Tokai Teio's hooves.
With fifty ters remaining, he finally glanced back. The rest of the field had been reduced to distant black dots. Estimating the margin, Shuta An turned forward again, reached out, and patted his hind neck.
"Well done, Teio."
Tokai Teio did not slow. Only after crossing the finish line did his ears flick upward.
"The Emperor's bloodline has produced a true successor!" the comntator shouted, eyes wide. "A crushing victory—one-point-seven seconds clear! A new Classic favorite is born!"
In the jockey's lounge, Yutaka Take nodded quietly.
"No wonder Ann-san believed so strongly," he said with a sigh. "At this rate, he'll beco a Derby jockey before I do."
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