Before the workday ca to an end, Shuta An completed the final arrangents—accommodation secured, flight tickets confird. Every logistical detail for the upcoming training camp had been settled with clean efficiency.
As for Tokai Teio's debut date, he deliberately left it open.
"The exact timing will depend on her progress once we enter full training," he said, using that as justification to push the decision to the following day.
There was no need to rush sothing that required precision.
—
The Sadalsuud Team's training camp was scheduled to begin next Monday.
It could have started earlier—but this particular weekend had already been reserved.
They were going to watch the Japanese Derby.
Even though jiro Ryan had missed the Satsuki Sho, jiro Dober's astonishing performance the previous week had indirectly elevated her status. Now, jiro Ryan stood as the clear favorite heading into the Derby.
The expectations placed upon her by the jiro Family were imnse.
Up to this point, the jiro lineage had never claid victory in the Japanese Derby. While the family traditionally prioritized the Spring Tenno Sho—the crown that symbolized stamina—the prestige of the Derby was on an entirely different level. It was not sothing that could be overlooked.
jiro Ramonu had once tried to approach Shuta An about this.
She had subtly suggested that he help design a race strategy for jiro Ryan.
And he had refused.
He had done so during the Satsuki Sho as well.
The reasoning was simple.
He had no working relationship with jiro Ryan's trainer. Beyond a few polite exchanges in the cafeteria since the Satsuki Sho, there had been no aningful interaction between him and Akazono Dou.
There was no foundation for cooperation.
And more importantly—
"There's no benefit if she wins," Shuta An muttered under his breath, lips pressing into a faint pout. "But if she loses, Akazono-kun will definitely resent even more."
It was a situation with only downside.
There was no reason for him to involve himself.
—
After being turned down, jiro Ramonu had not pressed the issue directly.
Instead, she shifted her approach.
"What do you think of Dober?" she asked, her tone casual, but the intent beneath it unmistakable.
Shuta An raised a brow, instantly recognizing the implication—and just as quickly choosing to ignore it.
"How do I see Dober?" he echoed, as if taking the question at face value. "She's very hardworking. I'm confident I can make her a Triple Tiara Uma Musu."
The answer was clean. Direct. Untouchable.
"Then I'll look forward to it."
jiro Ramonu's expression stiffened slightly as she responded, her probing attempt neatly deflected.
—
For this sumr training camp, the Sadalsuud Team operated with an unusually generous budget.
In fact, Shuta An didn't even need to request additional funding.
Symboli Rudolf had taken the initiative to offer it herself.
And he had refused.
"It's better to allocate those resources to other teams planning overseas expeditions," he said calmly. "Our Sadalsuud Team doesn't need it."
"Alright," Symboli Rudolf replied with a small shrug, accepting his decision without further insistence.
Then, as if shifting topics casually, she asked:
"Who do you favor in this week's Derby? jiro Ryan?"
"I haven't done any research," Shuta An answered, his tone even. "And none of the Sadalsuud Team mbers are participating in the Derby."
"Then who do you support?"
The question ca again, rephrased.
This ti, he paused.
"If I had to choose…" he said slowly, considering his words. "Then jiro Ryan. After all, she's Dober's sister."
Symboli Rudolf smiled faintly.
"So you support her—but don't favor her?"
"Not favoring her is your interpretation," Shuta An replied imdiately, without leaving room for misrepresentation. "That's not what I said."
"Alright."
She let the matter drop. Then, with a slight shift in tone, she added:
"Since your team isn't competing this weekend, you probably don't have a box reserved. Would you like to use the Student Council's box?"
"Then I'll gladly bring my team along to trouble you," Shuta An agreed without hesitation, seizing the opportunity. "Having a free VIP box is practically a blessing."
He continued, more practically:
"If we stay in the stands, Dober and the others will definitely be surrounded by fans. And the weather in Tokyo is getting hotter—it's not comfortable to stand outside for long. A VIP box would significantly improve the viewing experience."
"Since you're thinking along those lines," Symboli Rudolf said, "have you considered leasing a box long-term? Like the Student Council does."
"At Tokyo Racecourse, with your status, it would cost around five million yen per year."
"Five million?" Shuta frowned slightly. "I rember seeing that it costs fifteen million yen annually."
"That's the external rate," she explained. "As a trainer at Central Tracen Academy, your status places you under a different pricing structure. Preferential treatnt applies."
She added, almost casually:
"It's not limited to boxes. Many external rates don't apply to you. If you need anything, you can ask first."
A subtle realization surfaced in Shuta An's mind.
"It seems your control over the URA Association has deepened quite a bit."
"More or less," Symboli Rudolf admitted, without denying it.
Then, almost lightly, she said:
"If that Chairman doesn't get his priorities straight soon, I may have to take on both the URA Association Chairman and Central Tracen Academy Chairman roles."
"That would be ideal," Shuta An replied with a grin. "I fully support you consolidating that authority."
Symboli Rudolf said nothing in response.
But she could tell—he wasn't joking.
—
Sunday arrived.
Shuta An led the mbers of Team Sadalsuud into Tokyo Racecourse.
"Last week, I was the protagonist here…" jiro Dober murmured softly as she stepped inside, her gaze drifting across the familiar yet distant surroundings. "And now I'm just one of the spectators. Even though it's only been a week—it feels like a long ti already."
"That's normal," Shuta An replied as he walked ahead.
"Given enough ti, when you look back on the Japanese Oaks, it might feel like it only happened yesterday. Perception changes depending on where you stand."
"The Japanese Derby…" Tokai Teio whispered to herself, her eyes reflecting quiet determination. "Next year, I'll be standing on this stage too. I want to be the protagonist—I want everyone here to cheer for ."
"You will," Shuta An said without hesitation. His certainty carried no trace of doubt.
"You'll step onto this stage as an undefeated Satsuki Uma Musu."
For Silence Suzuka, the Japanese Derby did not hold pleasant mories. But those regrets no longer bound her. She had already moved beyond them.
Today, her attention rested elsewhere—on the person walking ahead of her. Her gaze lingered on Shuta An, quiet and unwavering.
anwhile, Kurofune remained the most composed among them. In her eyes, the Japanese Derby—the pinnacle of turf racing in the Twinkle Series—had nothing to do with her future.
Her path lay on the dirt tracks.
She already knew that this race was not part of her destiny.
And so, while Dober reflected on the past, Teio looked toward the future, and Suzuka's thoughts drifted toward Shuta An—
Kurofune simply observed. Calm. Detached.
As if watching a stage that, no matter how grand, was never ant to be hers.
—
When the results of the Japanese Derby were displayed before everyone, Shuta An felt an imdiate—and unmistakable—sense of relief.
He was incredibly glad he had not accepted jiro Ramonu's invitation to sit in the jiro Family's box.
Ines Fujin had led from start to finish.
From the mont the gates opened, she seized control of the race and never relinquished it, maintaining her advantage all the way down the final stretch. In the end, she crossed the finish line with a decisive 1 and 1/4 length lead over the overwhelming favorite, jiro Ryan, claiming the title of this year's Derby Uma Musu.
Applause rose across the racecourse.
Shuta An joined in, his eyes steady, his thoughts already dissecting the race.
"The first 1000 ters in 59.8 seconds—slightly fast," he remarked, turning to Symboli Rudolf as he clapped.
"The fact that Ines Fujin could sustain that pace all the way to the end is genuinely impressive."
"Indeed," Symboli Rudolf replied, her tone asured. "Most of the Uma Musu on that track lack experience at 2400 ters. To take the lead at such a pace on a first attempt—and still hold on to victory—she didn't just have luck today."
She paused briefly.
"She had courage."
jiro Dober, however, remained silent for a mont, her expression visibly darkened.
"In the final 600 ters, Sister Ryan was exactly one second faster than Ines Fujin—" she said at last, her voice carrying a trace of frustration. "But it still wasn't enough to close the gap."
The earlier deficit had been too large.
The regret lingered.
"There's nothing to be done," Shuta An said, shaking his head lightly. "If I were the one arranging the strategy, I would have made the sa decision—run from behind."
His gaze remained fixed on the track.
"With a first 2400-ter race being run at that pace, a trailing strategy should have had the advantage."
"But this is the Japanese Derby," Symboli Rudolf said as she rose to her feet.
Her voice carried a quiet authority.
"A stage where the outco cannot be predicted before the race begins."
"That may be true this year." A faint curve appeared at the corner of Shuta An's lips. "But not next year."
His tone sharpened—subtle, but absolute.
"I'll have Teio eliminate all suspense before the race even starts."
At the ntion of her na, Tokai Teio instinctively lifted her head, her eyes locking onto her Trainer.
—
That night, Shuta An went to bed early.
In the Dream World, another Derby awaited him.
This ti, he would be riding Rice Shower.
—
When he opened his eyes, the familiar setting of the jockey waiting room ca into view.
As expected.
He glanced at the clock.
"Just in ti for the 11R parade." A quiet exhale followed. "No warm-up opportunity again…"
Muttering to himself, he stood and headed toward the restroom. The late May heat had already begun to settle over Tokyo, and the waiting room, equipped with nothing more than fans, felt stifling. Even without direct sunlight, the air clung heavily to the skin.
By the ti he reached the sink, sweat had already ford along his face.
Cool water splashed against his skin, washing away the discomfort. He straightened, refreshed, and without returning to his seat, headed directly toward the waiting area.
It was ti to et his partner.
—
As he stepped out, one detail caught his attention.
"Take isn't here?"
The absence registered imdiately.
Then, just as quickly, the reason surfaced.
"He doesn't have a mount for this year's Derby…"
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"Or maybe he's avoiding so I don't remind him about that al next week."
After all, following last week's Oaks, Yutaka Take had lost their bet. By all rights, he should have already treated Shuta An to a al earlier in the week.
But he had co prepared with an excuse.
"Wouldn't overeating before the Derby affect my condition?"
And just like that, the obligation had been postponed.
Of course, Shuta An knew the truth.
Yutaka Take's absence had nothing to do with avoiding him. Without a Derby runner from his father, Take Kunihiko, securing a mount from Kanto trainers had been difficult. As a result, he remained at Hanshin Racecourse today—watching, rather than riding.
—
Shuta An's attention shifted.
Ahead of him stood Rice Shower.
He approached without hesitation, his gaze sharpening as he carefully examined her condition.
"How's his weight?" he asked, looking toward the groom.
"He's down four kilograms," the groom replied. "Training intensity has been a bit high lately."
"I see."
Shuta An circled behind him, his eyes tracing the lines of his hind legs, assessing muscle developnt with quiet precision.
"They still haven't fully matured"
His gaze flickered briefly toward the distance.
There, Mihono Bourbon stood.
His physique was unmistakable—his gluteal muscles already developed to a degree that commanded attention.
"Too fast."
A faint click of his tongue.
"He's even improved since the Satsuki Sho." There was no denying it. "This race… is going to be difficult."
But difficulty did not equate to uncertainty.
Not today.
—
For this Derby, Shuta An had already set his objective.
Second place.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
"Although we secured entry through a joint third in the Satsuki Sho, we didn't earn prize money—"
His thoughts flowed calmly, thodically.
"With Rice Shower's current standing, if we fail to place here, we'll almost certainly need to run—and win—a graded race before the Kikuka Sho."
Otherwise, qualification itself could beco an issue.
His current earnings, largely from open races, were sufficient for now—but by autumn, that advantage would erode as other horses accumulated results.
He didn't want that.
More importantly—Kikuka Sho was a 3000-ter race. A true test of endurance.
Even with Rice Shower's pedigree favoring long distances, he had no intention of exhausting him prematurely.
"Still." A small exhale. "Even if we miss the top two, there's still the St. Lite Kinen."
As a Kanto horse, a top-three finish there would secure their ticket.
That was their insurance.
Which ant—this Derby was not a "must-win" race.
Not for him.
Not for Rice Shower.
—
Mounting her back, Shuta An imdiately felt the difference.
His weight may have dropped slightly—but his muscles had tightened, grown more defined.
"Still not at Mihono Bourbon's level…"
His hand gently brushed along his nape.
"But enough."
Enough to compete.
—
He guided his in slow circles within the waiting area, maintaining his rhythm as the pre-race display continued.
Behind them, another gaze lingered.
Kojima Sadahiro, seated atop Mihono Bourbon, watched in silence.
"After the Satsuki Sho…"
His thoughts stirred uneasily.
"The trainer didn't ntion the second place at all."
Instead—he had been told to pay attention to Rice Shower.
And to Shuta An.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"But Rice Shower is only the tenth favorite this ti."
Doubt crept in.
"Do I really need to take him that seriously?"
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