May 3rd. The seventh race at Churchill Downs Racecourse—the Turf Classic Stakes.
Although the thoughts of many spectators had already drifted toward the following race, Silence Suzuka paid them no mind. Drawing gate 4, she turned her head after stepping onto the turf, gazing toward the spot where Shuta An had promised to appear before the start.
He did not break his word. In a corner of the grandstand, very close to the finish line and roughly four hundred ters from the starting gate, the young man stood quietly. Silence Suzuka could not see him clearly from this distance, yet she was certain—Shuta An was there.
"One full lap of the turf course here is exactly 1400 ters. From the start to the first bend is about 380 ters. Not short, but not long either. I can't afford any mistakes at the break—I have to take the lead quickly."
She repeated the calculation inwardly, steadying her breathing.
At that mont, Shuta An received a Line ssage from Secretariat. "Would you like to watch the race from the VIP box? The view is better."
"No," Shuta An replied without hesitation. "No matter how this race ends, I'm taking Suzuka back to Japan imdiately afterward. I still have another Uma Musu scheduled to debut next month."
"Alright~" A few minutes passed before Secretariat replied again. "Since you've decided, so be it. Then we'll et again at the Breeders' Cup this year."
"I'll do my best," Shuta An answered, leaving the response deliberately vague. Whether Silence Suzuka or jiro Dober would challenge the Breeders' Cup in the latter half of the year was still uncertain. Making promises six months in advance was sothing he refused to do.
As Silence Suzuka stepped into the gate, she swept her gaze across the competitors beside her. In gate 3 stood DowntheAisle, runner-up in last year's Canadian International Stakes, whose main career victory was the G3 Bougainvillea Stakes. In gate 5 was Volochine, winner of last year's G2 Bernard Baruch Handicap.
"As expected—North Arican turf Uma Musu are a bit weaker," Silence Suzuka muttered inwardly. "It's a sha Ann doesn't seem interested in sending to Europe."
Then another thought surfaced.
"But if I show overwhelming strength here—could I convince him to let challenge Europe one day? To race against the very best turf Uma Musu in the world?"
She had witnessed Oguri Cap defeat the European Mile Queen at Gulfstream Park. Yet she also understood that victory owed much to Royal Academy's unfamiliarity with the climate and conditions. Had the race been held at Ascot, the result would not have co so easily.
"European Uma Musu can give everything on their ho turf," she thought, adjusting her breathing. "I want to experience that too."
Nearby, Labeeb was quietly observing Silence Suzuka. As last year's Secretariat Stakes winner, Silence Suzuka—already a G1 champion—was the most decorated entrant in the field. Although many Arican Uma Musu looked down on the level of Dubai World Cup Day races, Labeeb could not deny her own reaction when she had watched Silence Suzuka lead from start to finish in the Dubai Turf.
"A high-speed front-runner…I've never dealt with that kind of opponent," Labeeb admitted inwardly. "But I can't expect her to hold back out of pity. I can only face it head-on."
On the inside, Always a Classic in gate 1 was also focused on Silence Suzuka.
"She's my rival for the lead. That Dubai run looked terrifying, but ydan favors front-runners. That performance relied on track bias and unfamiliar opponents. I'm not one of them—and this ti, I have the gate advantage. I'll take the lead and never give it back."
Click.
The gates flew open in unison.
Silence Suzuka reacted instantly. Before the doors had fully parted, her slender fra shot forward cleanly, her break more than a step quicker than both Down the Aisle and Volochine to either side.
Always a Classic also broke sharply from gate 1, but even so, she was a fraction slower than Silence Suzuka.
With a flawless start, Silence Suzuka accelerated without the slightest hesitation. Shuta An's special training in explosive power now revealed its effect. Unlike Uma Musu who needed ti to adjust their stride, her speed surged as though launched from a catapult.
Within fifty ters, she had clearly separated herself from the pack. She then decisively cut inward, conserving ground and denying those on the inside any chance to exploit the rail.
Seeing Silence Suzuka surge ahead, Always a Classic—who had intended to lead—refused to yield.
"I said I'd lead! Even if you accelerate, I won't back down!" Brimming with resolve, Always a Classic bumped past Talloires from gate 2 and charged forward with long, powerful strides.
Already in command of the front-running position, Silence Suzuka had no intention of relinquishing the view ahead. Sensing Always a Classic's challenge, she unleashed a second acceleration at the hundred-ter mark.
"Co on," she thought, eyes steady. "If you're not afraid of having your stamina dragged down with , then follow. Always a Classic—stay right behind . Let's see who gives out first."
She did not believe the Arican Uma Musu behind her would stubbornly cling to such a pace, and so she felt no concern that her actions violated the pre-race plan. From the stands, Silence Suzuka's movent caught Shuta An's eye. The young man narrowed his gaze, saying nothing, yet his heartstrings were unmistakably pulled tight.
"The opening pace," he judged quietly, "has been raised by Always a Classic."
According to Silence Suzuka's expectations, once they entered the first turn, Always a Classic should have abandoned the contest for the lead. After all, could she really sustain such an extre pace all the way to the finish against a front-runner like her? Silence Suzuka did not believe Always a Classic would be that reckless.
Yet as she was about to exit the turn and enter the back straight opposite the grandstand, Silence Suzuka sensed sothing amiss. The hoofbeats behind her were still sharp and pressing. Always a Classic remained a full horse length back, relentlessly clinging on, showing no sign of retreat. After chasing for so long, the gap had not closed—but she still refused to give up.
"You'll slow down first!" Always a Classic, who had boldly declared before the race that she would seize the lead, was now driven by pure obsession.
Watching the live feed on the giant screen, Shuta An frowned. "She's that stubborn? But Suzuka won't relinquish a lead she's already secured."
His eyes shifted to the split tis displayed at the side of the screen.
"One-eighth mile: 12.14 seconds. Quarter mile: 11.07 seconds. Half mile: 44.67 seconds…"
If this pace continued, then—
Shuta An's pupils tightened sharply.
"The first 1000 ters will be under 56 seconds?"
Regardless of track condition, this was an outrageous tempo.
Realizing this, Shuta An's gaze locked onto Silence Suzuka, who was still fiercely guarding the front on the back straight. Then he glanced at Labeeb in third and let out a shallow breath.
"Labeeb's nearly twenty horse lengths behind Always a Classic—That at least eases things a little."
Still, he clenched his fist. "Let's see how far this accelerated runaway can go. After the race, though, I'll need to seriously consider Suzuka's recovery before the Takarazuka Kinen. That race is also ant to test her adaptability in distance. If the result isn't ideal, then we may have to limit her targets to the 1800–2000-ter range."
The Turf Classic Stakes had yet to conclude, but the young Trainer's thoughts were already racing ahead to the next challenge.
After covering nearly two-thirds of the back straight, Silence Suzuka estimated that she had already passed the 1000-ter mark in the lead.
Yet she did not dare relax. The sound of Always a Classic's hooves behind her remained disturbingly clear.
"I didn't expect that on my second expedition to Arica, I'd et an Uma Musu who would contend for the lead this aggressively."
Far from feeling fatigued by the blistering pace, Silence Suzuka felt exhilarated. Driven by Always a Classic's relentless pursuit, she entered a state she had never experienced before—one where she felt she could maintain this speed all the way to the finish.
In stark contrast, Always a Classic's condition had deteriorated badly. She was now relying entirely on sheer willpower to keep chasing, that burning spirit already dwindling to a fragile ember, on the verge of extinguishing at any mont.
Once it went out, she would have no choice but to slow down just to complete the race.
Her Trainer understood this all too well and could only sigh. "When you said before the race that you wanted to challenge Silence Suzuka for the lead, I knew this wouldn't end well. But you wouldn't listen. Take this race as a lesson—and rest properly when we get back."
From the stands, Shuta An watched with a mixture of surprise and contemplation. "An Uma Musu who can pressure Suzuka like this—you don't see that in Japan."
That was undeniably true. Japan's current standout front-runner, Sunshine Whity, was still recovering from injury. And when she and Silence Suzuka had once competed, Suzuka herself had yet to mature, her developnt hindered not only by circumstance, but by the fact that Shuta An had not yet been her Trainer.
anwhile, Labeeb, uninterested in the suicidal duel at the front, maintained a slightly slower rhythm. Even so, in Shuta An's estimation, her pace still translated to around 59 seconds for the first 1000 ters—already an unprecedented tempo for most of the field.
It was just that the two ahead were running sothing even more insane.
As the field approached the final turn, unease crept into Labeeb's heart. Silence Suzuka and Always a Classic still looked far too comfortable, and the gap to the leader had barely shrunk.
"Did I let them get too far ahead?"
The mont she entered the turn, however, Labeeb finally breathed out. Always a Classic's figure was growing clearer with each stride.
"As expected—even you can't keep that pace forever."
She smirked inwardly and adjusted her stride, preparing to move wide and create space to overtake Always a Classic. But the instant she drew level with the second-place runner, Labeeb was jolted. Her steps faltered, if only for a heartbeat.
"What the hell…Silence Suzuka, you're still not slowing down?"
Ahead of her, Silence Suzuka remained more than ten horse lengths clear.
"No—I can't wait for the straight anymore!"
The final straight at Churchill Downs was only 380 ters long. Labeeb was not an Uma Musu fad for her finishing kick. If she delayed any longer, she might only watch Silence Suzuka cross the line unchallenged.
"I absolutely refuse to accept that! Watching Always a Classic self-destruct is bad enough!"
Unwilling to give up, Labeeb forced herself into pursuit, even though she knew she wasn't fully prepared for such an early chase.
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