The starting gate was absolutely necessary. The closer every detail of the training race was to a formal event, the better the results would naturally be.
Amidst Gold Ship and Orfevre's noisy bickering, all the Uma Musu worked together to push the heavy gate into its planned position.
Every Uma Musu here was experienced, and Kitasan Black herself was no longer a rookie fresh from her debut. The little episode of pushing the gate didn't disrupt their paused warm-ups at all.
If anything, after this shared effort, they seed slightly closer, their condition improved when resuming warm-ups, quickly adjusting themselves into racing readiness.
Noticing this, Yasui Makoto didn't waste any more ti.
Once Kitasan Black and the others had entered the gates as if preparing for an official race, he began the final confirmation.
"The gate opening ti is set. My display is showing a 30-second countdown."
Holding a tablet in one hand and a stopwatch in the other, he glanced toward the Uma Musu inside the gates.
Seeing no reply from them—each fully concentrated, staring straight ahead—he nodded silently, eyes fixed on the countdown.
"Then, for this 2400-ter training race on the woodchip course, left turn…"
"Start!"
Announcing the start simultaneously as the gates opened, Yasui's pupils contracted slightly the next instant.
Strikingly, despite only six participants, the field imdiately split into two groups.
In front, leading by a clear margin, was Kitasan Black.
Having executed a swift and precise launch from the gate, dark-brown woodchips flew up from beneath the black-haired girl's feet. Muscles visibly tensed and rippled beneath her short-sleeved shirt and shorts.
From previous training and races, Yasui was thoroughly convinced that the running style his Uma Musu excelled in was front-running, followed by leading from near the front.
Unsurprisingly, the pre-race instructions he'd given were for her usual front-runner style, and at this mont, Kitasan Black was executing it flawlessly.
Directly behind Kitasan Black were Special Week, Grass Wonder, and Vodka.
All three possessed exceptional stalking abilities, which aligned with the running instructions they'd received for today.
However, imdiately after leaving the gate, their first priority was establishing positions. Their instantaneous speed was already high; at first glance, they appeared ready to challenge Kitasan's lead, staying closely behind in tight pursuit.
Just behind these four—who'd quickly ford a nearly straight line—Deep Impact and Orfevre had simultaneously broken late from the gate.
Seen from the side, these two Uma Musu were half a length behind. Deep Impact wore a calm yet curiously excited expression, while Orfevre clearly scowled with displeasure.
"Oho! And this one dared to scold earlier!"
Gold Ship suddenly burst into laughter. "Yet her own gate-breaking is still so terrible, hahaha!"
"Golshi-sama, that's not very nice to Orfevre-san…" Silence Suzuka softly chided, amused, then thoughtfully touched her chin.
"But, if I recall correctly, Orfevre-san and Deep-san really have had trouble breaking from the gate…"
"It's practically famous. I even rember comntators teasing them about it during certain races," Daiwa Scarlet agreed, her expression turning serious.
"But the fact they managed to take the Classic Triple Crown despite such disadvantages ans Kita-chan definitely can't relax just because they started poorly."
"Mm. Especially against opponents with powerful late kicks…"
Silence Suzuka frowned slightly, carefully observing Kitasan Black's running posture.
"Kita-chan's posture and stride length…still need to be lower and narrower."
Listening quietly to the chatting among Uma Musu beside him, Yasui rapidly sorted his thoughts.
Deep Impact and Orfevre breaking late from the gate was sowhat expected—both had often experienced this issue in past races and publicly recorded training sessions.
Precisely because of this, he'd assigned them the role of mid-pack runners. Even if a slow start did occur, they could smoothly transition into their ideal positioning.
Their greatest strength lay in chasing from behind, so their training effectiveness wouldn't suffer.
As Daiwa Scarlet and Silence Suzuka said, Kitasan Black absolutely couldn't relax, especially since the opening phase wasn't fully settled yet.
On the track, quickly adjusting her breathing, transitioning from the breath-holding of the gate start into short, controlled breaths for positioning, Kitasan's peripheral vision and ears instinctively tilted backward.
All five senpai behind her felt like they could pass her at any second.
Special Week's heavy hoofbeats echoed dully, relentlessly pressuring from the inside track on her left rear.
Grass Wonder occupied the space directly behind her—most likely executing the chasing tactic Trainer Yasui had emphasized. Her footsteps, gaze, and even her breathing felt like sticky glue attached to Kitasan's back.
Vodka's position was slightly further back compared to the others. Judging by her breathing, arm movents, and rhythm of steps, she intended to settle mid-pack for now.
But the pressure from the two senpai farther behind was even more overwhelming.
Kitasan clearly heard—and saw—their sluggish gate-break.
Yet they seed entirely unaffected. Within monts, their footsteps decisively found direction.
One angled inward, the other outward, as if attempting to encircle her from both sides, thundering toward her from about a length or two away.
At this distance, in these positions, with this pacing…
No good!
I need a bigger lead!
I can't let them keep pressuring like this!
Her eyes abruptly sharpened, and Kitasan accelerated the adjustnt of her condition.
She was no longer an inexperienced rookie. Having experienced several races where she had led decisively from the start, she was thoroughly familiar with—and certain of—the intentions behind the senpai's current actions.
When facing a front-runner, no opponent would willingly allow her an easy, comfortable lead.
Pressure during positioning, pressure around corners, pressure during cruising—
Any opponent, at any mont or place, could apply pressure in countless ways, attempting to wear down a front-runner's stamina.
To shake them off, she had to give them a reason to abandon pursuit!
For example…
Even if you're my senpai, I'll say this clearly…
If you really think you can catch at a ti like this—then co and try!
Her gaze hardened instantly. With her breathing, posture, and arm movents perfectly adjusted to optimal form, Kitasan sharply shortened her stride length. Her horseshoe-studded racing shoes thundered against the firm yet springy woodchip surface.
The wind hitting her face intensified instantly, stinging slightly at the corners of her eyes—but she ignored it completely, pushing her speed even further.
Without needing to look back, she sensed purely by ear that the three senpai close behind her had reduced their acceleration. They were now shifting into a normal stalker formation, arranged neatly in a "two-one" order.
That ant they'd abandoned thoughts of further pressuring her, fully conceding the lead and pace-setting position to her.
If the two senpai farther back did the sa, entering the first corner at this rhythm would offer her ample tactical room—and better odds of victory later.
Good. Spe-senpai and the others seem to have backed off, so now I can finally—Eh?! Wait, wait, wait!!
The instant she rejoiced inwardly about her own judgnt, Kitasan Black's peripheral vision abruptly caught a silhouette surging into view from the outside track, seemingly out of nowhere, like an illusion.
Startled, she turned sharply, losing control and involuntarily cried out:
"Deep Impact…-senpai?! We're still in the opening phase, you know?!!"
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