Chapter 11

"It's cloudy."

Just moments ago, the sun had risen high in the sky, but just as the race was about to begin, a swarm of dark, gloomy clouds gathered, blocking the sunlight.

The sky was a similar color to her own hair. Tamamo twisted her back hair and smoothed down the top of her gym uniform. Despite having competed many times, the uniform felt strangely unfamiliar after so much time.

She smoothed out the wrinkles and looked around. The grassy field in front of the gate, the members of Uma Musume warming up. Suddenly, a familiar face caught her eye, but one she didn't want to get used to.

"Wow, you managed to compete without taking off your official uniform? Or did you not realize I was competing?"

 The look on Tamamo's face, a look of contempt for a noble, made him frown and turn his head as soon as he saw the light brown curls. Dinah Carpenter. For some reason, she's the kind of person who can't stand to fight with anyone. No matter what, she's the kind who lives to deal with it all. No, it's Uma Musume.

"Well, even so, only a crushing defeat awaits you, oh, ho, ho!"

"Hee hee, say something. Are you so scared that your tongue has gone numb?"

"You, I mean."

I'd love to ignore her, but I don't want to be distracted by something so trivial right before the race.

Tamamo turned her head toward Dinah and looked at her indifferently.

"Are you here to chat and swear, or to race?"

"If you understand, you're a bit of an idiot, so get out."

 "W-Wait! You dare approach me now?

All Uma Musume, please come through the door." Tamamo ignored Diner's shouts and entered through the door. Then, the back door closed with a creak, revealing two iron plates that blocked the view.

At the same time, her heart began to pound. Tamamo took a deep breath.

"...Don't be nervous. It's not difficult at all."

The coach only gave one instruction.

"What are your instructions?"

"There is no such thing. I will crush you with my skills."

If that's my order as coach, then I'll simply obey.

Crack

[Now, the door opens. All Uma Musume, begin together.]

With the cracking of joints, the metal plate blocking my view burst open. In that instant, my blue pupils dilated. Tensing my muscles to the limit, I propelled my body forward as far as I could. [Leading the charge is Saber Jet No. 2, advancing without hesitation!]

[Following them are Dinah Carpenter, Nazino Passo, and Super Spirit.]

[The group behind includes Tamamo Cross, Speed Hunter, and Lucky Knight.]

[It seems Tamamo Cross started a little late.]

"It doesn't matter.

As the commentator said, we started a little late. Before, I would have been unnecessarily excited and nervous. But for some reason, my mind is completely calm. I simply move my legs alternately, facing the wind blowing in my face.

Is it the result of training? My legs feel lighter than ever. Not just light, but as if they could fly at any moment. I want to pick up the pace. It's still early in the race, but my legs, immersed in frivolity, urge me to pick up the pace.

I cool my overheated engine (chest) and think. My basic strategy and my... Skin cells are recovering (18:). I can push myself to the limit from now on, but even without taking risks, the road is always clear.

[Turn 2, Sabre Jet still leads. But Dinah Carpenter is right behind!]

The leaderboard has moved up slightly, placing me in the middle group. I take the corners smoothly, maximizing the rebound of centrifugal force.

And soon, as Turn 3 approaches, memories of training flood back. I remember.

"Oh? You want me to teach you the technique?"

"Girae! You always tell me to run like crazy, and as a coach, when will you teach me the technique?"

'Even if you say that... I can't teach you how to run.' Mugi.

"You have to discover it yourself, rolling your own body."

I felt like I finally understood that conversation, which had been so indifferent to me during training because I had no way of knowing.

The wind blowing across the Volga, the grass crunching against the soles of my shoes, and most of all, my own struggling limbs, were teaching me how to run.

Naturally, my posture slumped, head straight ahead. One false step could send me tumbling face first into the ground. Yet this seemingly dangerous form was precisely the style that suited me best. It was a style I would likely carry with me for the rest of my running life. It just needed a little refinement.

[Now, Tamamo Cross! From the outside, start attacking! Can she turn the tables?]

Speed, power, and style. But that wasn't the only thing that changed.

It was something you only see in movies. A sensation The suprasensory is felt through the ground. At what angle should I push? On the inside corner, when to press the accelerator.

Information previously only visible to the naked eye is now transmitted from the ground to the soles of my feet, my calves, my thighs, my heart, and my entire body. As if drawing a map in my head, the optimal path unfolds clearly before my eyes.

[Tamamo Cross! Tamamo Cross is coming! He's incredibly fast!]

The race is already over halfway, and the fourth corner is just around the corner, the finish line. As soon as I pass it, my intuition alerts me.

"Right here!"

Drag allocation, angle of attack, leg strength. Everything is in perfect order.

With all five senses in order, I plant my feet firmly on the ground.

And in the next instant, Tamamo Cross becomes a lightning bolt.