Uma Musume Pretty Derby: Ten Meters Chapter 106: Uma Musume Pretty Derby: Ten Meters [106]

At precisely 3:20 PM, as the parade ring ceremony began, the comntator's enthusiastic voice echoed through the clear skies above Nakayama Racecourse.

"Bathed in early spring sunshine, conditions at Nakayama are perfect today!"

"Fifteen Uma Musu are set to clash fiercely over 2000 ters on turf, vying for the title of their generation's fastest!"

"Fans have flocked here to witness this historic battle firsthand!"

"First up, a brilliant daughter from a prestigious lineage!"

"Entering the fray with a streak of three consecutive victories—"

"Gate 5, number 8, the race favorite: Satono Crown!"

Under the spotlight, Satono Crown stepped gracefully onto the presentation stage in her sleek Racing Outfit.

A sleeveless dark-green top paired with black shorts edged in pale gold, long black silk gloves, and elegant black boots atop sheer stockings; today she seed even more dazzling than usual.

Cheers erupted from the grandstands at her appearance, and the comntator's voice rose in excitent.

Following her ca Cheval Grand, the second favorite, then Durante, the third.

And then—

"Also riding a wave of three consecutive wins!"

"Crushing every doubt from before her debut beneath her jet-black hooves!"

"A festival maiden full of energy and cheer—"

"Gate 4, number 7, the fourth favorite: Kitasan Black!"

Matching the volu given earlier to her rivals, the stadium erupted once more as the black-haired girl bounded onto the stage with sparkling enthusiasm.

At the front of the stands, Yasui Makoto observed through binoculars, smiling in relief.

"You did it, Kita-chan. You finally made it through a parade without any mishaps."

Beside him, a lively voice protested lightly.

"Trainer Yasui, you shouldn't be hoping for your Uma Musu to ss up, you know?"

"…I didn't an it like that."

Turning helplessly toward Tokai Teio, Yasui lowered his binoculars with a sigh.

"It's just that in the first three races, Kita-chan always had a minor slip-up."

"The first race, she put her running shoes on the wrong feet. The second, her jacket zipper broke. The third ti, she wore her number bib upside down."

"Honestly, if Special Week-san hadn't noticed it, even I might've missed that last one."

Tokai Teio knew about Kitasan's successive victories but was unaware of these little incidents. After a brief surprise, she quickly realized that her adoring junior would naturally never ntion these embarrassing stories, only to have her own trainer casually reveal them.

A mont later, sothing else occurred to her.

"Special Week…noticed it?"

She turned to her other side, surprise and skepticism in her voice.

"Are you really talking about Spe-chan?"

Nearby, jiro McQueen, Daiwa Scarlet, and several other Uma Musu familiar with Kitasan laughed softly. Special Week herself looked embarrassed, holding up a phone and scratching her head.

"Teio, isn't that a little an…?"

As she protested, a gentle, amused voice ca through the phone speaker.

"That's right. Spe-chan can be quite observant sotis. Teio, you really are being a bit unfair."

On the screen appeared a gentle-faced Uma Musu, serene and graceful, with flowing orange hair and erald-green eyes reminiscent of a springti lake.

Facing the screen, Teio's serious professional deanor lted into playful ease.

"Co on, Suzuka. I was just kidding. Anyway, you're the one who missed Kita-chan's Satsuki Sho this ti."

"I'm sorry. Things have been busy here in Arica lately," the girl nad Suzuka replied apologetically, smiling softly.

"But I've arranged things so that I'll be back in Japan by the end of the month. I'll definitely make it in ti to watch Golshi's Tenno Sho (Spring), Kita-chan's Japanese Derby, and Spe-chan's Dream Trophy. I'll cheer you all on!"

The gathered Uma Musu, here to support Kitasan, happily peppered Suzuka with questions. Earlier, when Special Week initiated the video call, Yasui had briefly asked about her.

The Uma Musu on the call was Silence Suzuka, a remarkable talent known for her famously fast-paced, front-running style. Even today, her iconic races were still frequently used as textbook examples for front-runner strategy.

After a severe injury forced her early retirent, she'd beco a specialist in sports rehabilitation, currently working in the U.S.

"Alright, enough talk about future races!"

Suddenly, Gold Ship loudly interrupted their excited chatter. All eyes turned to the silver-gray-haired, towering Uma Musu who stood solemnly, raising her arms dramatically.

Facing forward, in the direction leading from the parade ring to the starting gate, Gold Ship assud a strange posture, palms outstretched as if ready to fire off a kahaha.

"Kita-chan's race is about to start! Right now, what we should be doing is cheering her on! Don't forget our tradition!"

"I'll start it off!"

"Begone Begone Evil Spirits Begone~!"

Muttering the strange chant dramatically, she stared intensely toward Kitasan as the girl approached the starting gates.

…What kind of tradition is this? And who cheers like that anyway?

Just as Yasui was privately chuckling in confusion, he witnessed sothing even more unexpected.

Whether it was the usually serious Tokai Teio and jiro McQueen, the frank Daiwa Scarlet, the carefree Vodka, even the innocent Special Week or gentle Silence Suzuka—they all earnestly copied Gold Ship's bizarre pose.

Standing midway between the start and finish lines, they faced the gates. Kitasan spotted them imdiately, her face lighting up as she enthusiastically waved back.

Instantly, the dark-haired girl seed infused with so mysterious boost of energy, her fighting spirit clearly elevated.

…So was that genuinely so kind of magical cheer or sothing?

Feeling his worldview slightly challenged, Yasui instinctively waved back to Kitasan. He was about to question the strange ritual further when the comntator's voice soared dramatically over the loudspeakers.

"The bell of destiny has rung!"

"The entrance music for the Satsuki Sho begins!"

"Each Uma Musu steps forward, ambition burning in their hearts, heading toward their own starting gates!"

As if soone had pressed pause or mute, the noise from over a hundred thousand spectators vanished into eerie silence.

Within that dreamlike quiet, fifteen Uma Musu—expressions confident or solemn—entered their gates one by one, as the comntator's voice announced each step.

Stepping into Gate #7, normally so familiar yet now sohow alien, Kitasan Black took a deep breath.

She leaned forward, left arm stretched horizontally in front, right leg positioned slightly back. Surprising herself, she found her heart unexpectedly calm.

A brief silence—

"And now, all competitors are ready!"

"The 75th Satsuki Sho, 2000-ter turf, Grade 1—"

"START!"