Kitasan Black left the introduction circle stiffly, face bright red, forcing a chanical smile, waving robotically with one hand while gripping her broken zipper tightly with the other.
As soon as she stepped into the underground passage leading to the track, she glanced around nervously. Seeing the nearest Uma Musu over a hundred ters away…
"Aaaaahhh—this is sooo embarrassing! How could my zipper get stuck at that mont?! Trainer and the others definitely saw it! So humiliating!"
She pressed her head against the wall, squirming awkwardly, flailing silently for a mont. Finally, she stood straight, took a deep breath, clenched her fists, and forced herself to calm down.
"Alright, think positively… At least this ti I didn't wear my shoes backwards… but it's still embarrassing!"
She twisted and turned against the wall again.
"All participants, please proceed to the gates. Repeat, all participants, please proceed to the gates."
Hearing the announcent echo in the corridor, she quickly slapped her cheeks to focus, took another deep breath, and jogged toward the exit.
The other Uma Musu were already heading toward the gates. Realizing there was no ti to waste, she picked up her pace.
Suddenly, as she passed by, a familiar voice awkwardly called out to her.
"Kitasan-san…"
"Huh? Oh, Gallant-san!" Kitasan Black stopped imdiately upon seeing Satono Gallant, greeting her warmly. "Is there sothing I can help you with?"
"Not exactly… It's just…"
Gallant pointed hesitantly toward Kitasan's upper body.
"Did you forget to take off your jacket?"
"…"
"…"
"…"
Kitasan desperately wished for a hole to crawl into.
Even without looking, she could feel her face burning hot. She was sure her cheeks were a bright, vivid red by now.
Seeing her distress, Gallant kindly suggested, "The staff haven't left yet, and there's still so ti before we enter the gate. Why don't you hand your jacket over to—"
She stopped mid-sentence as Kitasan, face growing even redder, tugged futilely at the stuck zipper. Unconsciously, Gallant stepped forward to help—
—and froze on the spot.
Rip!
With a loud tearing noise, Gallant stared in shock as Kitasan forcefully ripped open her jacket.
Face still crimson, Kitasan managed an embarrassed smile, then covered her face with the shredded jacket and sprinted toward the staff nearby.
Gallant stood dumbfounded for a few seconds before shaking her head with an amused sigh. Her expression quickly grew serious again.
She's still as clumsy as ever, but that strength… Trainer was right; I need to watch out for that.
Kitasan's dramatic "wardrobe malfunction" naturally didn't go unnoticed by spectators, provoking waves of laughter from the stands.
Yasui Makoto, Daiwa Scarlet, and Vodka also witnessed the scene, briefly falling silent before Vodka thoughtfully furrowed her brow.
"Kitasan's strength is still ridiculous… Won't that make it hard for her to control her pace during the race?"
"Yeah, that was obvious when I trained alongside her," Daiwa Scarlet agreed, also frowning slightly. "She struggles badly with adjusting her speed. Maintaining a steady pace is fine—her rhythm sense there is excellent—but changing speeds quickly is another matter."
"It's manageable during practice, but in a real race…"
Scarlet shook her head, troubled.
"Opponents won't give her the luxury of extra ti."
As she spoke, she glanced aningfully at Makoto. Vodka did the sa.
Makoto understood their curiosity about his strategy—he did have a plan—but he didn't elaborate. It wasn't sothing easily explained in a few words, and besides, the race was about to begin.
Rather than talk, it was better to let these two experienced Uma Musu witness it directly. With their expertise, they'd quickly grasp his intentions.
...
"All racers have taken their positions. Now, at Tokyo Racecourse, the turf 2000m Conditions Race…"
"START!"
At the announcer's call, fourteen figures burst swiftly out of the gates.
In a familiar scene, all racers angled simultaneously toward the inner track.
Suddenly, the announcer's voice grew tense.
"Oh! One racer stumbled slightly at the start, falling behind! It's the third favorite, Mini Souk!"
"But she quickly demonstrates why she's popular, swiftly regaining her position toward the rear of the pack."
"In the lead now is the tenth favorite, Battle Flag! She started off extrely fast, imdiately claiming the front position."
"From the outside—charging ahead—it's Satono Gallant!"
"Is she attempting to seize the lead position?! No—after briefly accelerating, Satono Gallant settles into third place, behind Saint Martin in second."
"Following closely behind the leading group is Kitasan Black, maintaining a much more forward position compared to her debut race."
In the stands, Vodka nodded knowingly.
"Just as expected. Scarlet, you saw it coming too, didn't you?"
"Yeah," Daiwa Scarlet confird. "Battle Flag's leading, just as we thought."
Scarlet's expression grew thoughtful.
"She's definitely not a front-runner. Her running style, positioning, and pacing aren't suitable for leading. But she's used to shorter races with quicker tempos. Habitually, she opened at her familiar, fast pace."
"It could also be her trainer's deliberate strategy. If so, anyone who isn't prepared might end up being led by the nose."
She paused, exchanging a glance with Vodka, before looking curiously at Makoto.
Strange… He should know Kitasan struggles with precise speed adjustnts, and high-speed races like this are difficult for her. He hasn't even specifically trained her for speed control yet…
Then why does he look so calm?
Daiwa Scarlet frowned inwardly.
As one of the greatest front-runners of recent generations—and arguably of all ti—she trusted her judgnt implicitly.
She had recognized Makoto's skill multiple tis already. But no matter how talented he was, or how mature for his age, it was only Kitasan's second race.
A rookie Uma Musu facing precise speed-control challenges in only her second race should make any trainer nervous. Yet Makoto's calm deanor suggested a quiet confidence that puzzled her deeply.
Where does that confidence co from?
Her frown deepened. Eyes fixed on the rapidly moving field, Scarlet's mind raced.
She had no intention of simply asking Makoto.
Her creed had always been simple: what others could do, she could do better. She was determined to find the answer herself.
Yet, as monts passed, her brow furrowed tighter.
Because she still hadn't grasped Makoto's strategy.
Does… does he really have no plan at all?
No—that's impossible. My eyes aren't playing tricks on ; his abilities are genuine.
But the third corner is fast approaching. Kitasan hasn't moved yet—does he intend to just keep following along…?
Wait—
Her eyes widened sharply.
Following along…?!
A startled whisper escaped her lips:
"Satono Gallant?!"
User Comments
0 comments from readers