Today, several smaller races were scheduled at Chantilly Racecourse before the French Derby, leaving Shuta An and Berno Light with plenty of free ti in the morning. Compared to the Breeders' Cup in Arica, the undercard races on French Derby day were, frankly, unimpressive in quality.
Shuta An even dared to comnt on the first few races: "I feel like Berno could win if she tried a little harder."
"What do you an, 'I feel like I could win'?" Berno Light wrinkled her nose and viciously pinched the soft flesh at his waist. "I know exactly what my racing ability and talent are."
"Ouch—" Shuta An sucked in a breath, quickly grabbing her wrist to make her let go. "Let's stop talking about that. The sky's getting darker. Let's take out the raincoats."
"Okay~" Berno Light didn't pursue the matter further. She obediently rummaged through the bag and pulled out two raincoats. She kept one for herself and handed the black one to Shuta An before slipping hers on first.
Shuta An didn't wear his right away. He unfolded it and rolled it around his left arm so he could put it on instantly if needed. Staff mbers nearby only gave him a glance and didn't look further. Perhaps in their eyes, despite the increasingly gloomy sky, the chance of rain was low—or perhaps they were simply too committed to the "elegance of old Paris" to bother with raincoats. But by the ti Shuta An spotted Oguri Cap erging from the underground passage, several raindrops had already brushed across his cheek.
"Put it on," he said, imdiately slipping into the raincoat.
"I hope Oguri had ti to switch to her heavy-track shoes," he muttered, adjusting his hood.
"She should've changed already," Berno Light replied while watching the large display screen. "I prepared different-colored shoes for different track conditions. Look at the color on her now—she's wearing the heavy-track pair."
"Berno, you're too reliable." Shuta An let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Oguri herself also made the right judgnt. Even though she couldn't step on the turf earlier, just watching the previous races makes it obvious the ground has more moisture than what the officials listed," Berno Light said, arriving at the sa conclusion.
"We underestimated the weather," Shuta An shook his head. "With how things have been these past few days, the turf was bound to retain water. We should've just gone straight with heavy-track shoes."
"Oguri looks good right now," Berno Light shifted topics. "But none of the French Uma Musu are talking to her. Is she being ostracized?"
"Ostracized?" Shuta An pressed his lips together. "It doesn't matter. After this, unless sothing unusual happens, they'll never race together again. Besides, even if Hours After and Emmson are the two biggest favorites, Oguri is the only one here who's already won a Classic this year. To be blunt, Oguri and they aren't even in the sa league. There's no need to worry about 'ostracism.'"
"Oguri herself clearly doesn't care," Berno Light huffed. "She's spacing out right now. She hasn't even noticed how others are treating her."
Just as she said that, Shuta An's phone buzzed. He pulled it out—then froze. The ssage was from the Director of Kasamatsu Tracen Academy, asking for a video call.
"What's going on?" Shuta An muttered, confused, but still pressed accept.
Berno Light instinctively leaned onto his shoulder, but the mont she realized it was a video call, she jolted upright in shock. When the call connected, the view wasn't the Director's office. Instead, it was the packed auditorium of Kasamatsu Tracen Academy.
"What—?" Shuta An stared in disbelief. "What is this?"
"As you can see, I'm currently in the academy auditorium. All the Uma Musu are gathered here. Everyone is preparing to watch Oguri Cap's French Derby," the Director explained. Then he made his request. "So, Shuta-kun, do you have anything you'd like to say?"
Shuta An paused briefly, then turned so the phone's cara could capture the giant display screen behind him. "As you can see, Oguri is currently preparing for the exhibition. And it's raining here at Chantilly."
"To be honest, I hoped for clear weather—dry turf would've been better for Oguri," Shuta An admitted. "But fate decided otherwise."
He smiled. "Even so, Oguri will hear everyone's cheers. She will unleash everything she's built up until now, and she will show that the Uma Musu of Kasamatsu are absolutely not inferior to anyone."
Applause erupted in the auditorium. Oguri Cap, the "Star of Kasamatsu," stepping onto the French Derby stage filled them with fierce pride.
Fujimasa March bit her lip silently. In her eyes, Oguri had already stepped into a world she could no longer reach—and all of this had happened in just five months.
"Just almost a year, she actually made it to the European Derby" Norn Ace murmured behind her. "If Oguri wins, I can show off that the French Derby Uma Musu's winning live choreography ca from !!!"
anwhile, in a bar in Kasamatsu, Kitahara and several colleagues also watched the live broadcast.
"Who would've thought Shuta-kun would secretly bring a Uma Musu all the way to the French Derby? Europe! Our Derby winners can't even win G3s over there, but he already won a Classic and is now challenging the French Derby. If he succeeds—" a colleague exclaid.
"We're all local Trainers, yet the gap is this big?" Kitahara shook his head. "I also need to work hard for the Central Trainer exam. Even if I get into Central, at this rate, Ann-san will still be miles ahead."
But no one resented him—they weren't foolish enough to think his results ca only from Oguri Cap.
"The presentation's about to start," Kitahara said, raising his sake. "Ann-san, Oguri Cap—good luck."
Beyond Kasamatsu, countless eyes across the entire Tokai region turned toward Paris. Shopping malls were already broadcasting the international feed. Under this attention, the Gray Uma Musu, the "Star of Kasamatsu," stepped out from the underground passage into the rain for her presentation.
Afterward, she exited the presentation area and stepped onto Chantilly's turf.
Feeling the ground beneath her feet, Oguri Cap breathed out quietly. "My choice was correct."
She'd seen the splashes in the earlier races and switched to the rain-track boots even before raindrops fell. Now, she confird she'd judged perfectly. Nearby competitors didn't seem to notice the difference—many wore shoes designed for good turf. Oguri could tell at a glance; she'd reviewed the data Berno collected.
But she quickly pushed stray thoughts aside. "Better warm up properly. If I pull sothing mid-race, it'll be bad."
"All sixteen Uma Musu participating in this year's Prix du Jockey Club have arrived on the track," the comntator announced. "In ten minutes, which one will claim this supre annual glory?"
"Most bettors still favor Emmson from gate 11," the guest analyst noted. "Her front-running ability last ti was incredible, and her rest period was ideal. The second favorite, surprisingly, is Hours After—just back from injury. It seems experts have strong faith in her talent."
"But the most surprising thing is still Oguri Cap," the comntator said. "Despite winning the French 2000 Guineas, she isn't highly favored this ti."
"Her advantage was pressured by Blushing John near the end. Many thinks 2400 ters might be too long for her," the guest added.
"But she won a major 2000-ter race back in Japan," the comntator argued. "And if she wins today, she'll beco the first French Two Crowns Uma Musu in 26 years."
"No one has done it in 26 years," the guest shook his head. "I doubt a Gray Uma Musu from Japan will change that."
"Well, the answer will co soon. The sixteen competitors are about to load into the gates."
Gate 1's Classic Cliche entered first. Oguri Cap was the fifth to enter. The cara naturally found her.
Shuta An leaned forward, watching closely. "Good! Even with the rain, Oguri isn't impatient."
"She's raced in rain before," Berno Light reminded him.
Yes—last year's Hokkaido Shimbun Hai, where Oguri claid her first major title under a downpour, slicing through the rain with an astonishing final sprint.
"Is it fate?" Shuta whispered. "It's raining again."
And he felt the rain would only grow heavier.
"Now— everything depends on Oguri."
As if sensing him, Oguri Cap turned slightly inside the gate, gazing toward the distant stands. She couldn't possibly see him through the downpour, but she knew—
"He's watching . He's cheering for ."
She steadied her breathing. Nearby, several Paris Trainers whispered among themselves.
"To be honest, Oguri Cap's grit is terrifying. For this race, grit matters most," one said.
"I warned Sarhoob to watch for her in the final straight," another added. "Her explosive power and stride are just too polished."
Hours After's Trainer sighed. "If this were last year's Grand Prix de Saint-Cloud, she'd have been my biggest threat. But this ti, Emmson and Hours After are still the toughest."
"And you read the 'Paris Turf' report, right?" Hours After's Trainer continued. "She was coached by Miesque herself."
"I'm so jealous," another Trainer groaned. "I tried calling Miesque for coaching before. She didn't answer. In the end, she blocked —"
"Of course, she wouldn't coach you," Hours After's Trainer snorted. "Look at her, and look at you."
Shuta An heard everything but didn't react. His eyes stayed fixed on the gates.
The electric bell rang. All the gates sprang open at once.
"The 148th Prix du Jockey Club has officially begun!" the comntator roared through the rain.
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