Chapter 2

(Then, the final turn! Maruzensky takes the lead! Half a turn behind, Takehana Prince! Can Maruzensky maintain her lead like this?)

The sunlight at Hanshin Racecourse is blindingly bright. Girls with fluffy tails tucked behind them kick up a thick fog of dust as they run. At that moment, the number three Uma Musume, Tamamo Cross, shoots out from the outside. As expected of her popularity, she's lightning fast! Is it a comeback? A comeback?

Four hundred meters to the finish. As two girls race in the lead group, a pale girl suddenly emerges from around the outside turn and chases after them with terrifying momentum. The instant her feet touch the ground, the dirt ripples slightly. The audience gulps at this extraordinary sight, and the announcer's excited voice heats up the atmosphere.

"Just a little more! It takes so little to overtake! But the gap isn't easy to close! Two hundred to go... One hundred to go... Maruzensky, the first across the line!"

However, the gray-haired girl's splendid momentum, unlike her initial surge, didn't last. As the finish line approached, the gap between her and her opponents gradually narrowed, but her own acceleration also decreased. Perhaps she had distributed her stamina poorly? The narrow gap, so close it seemed she would be caught at any moment, never quite closed.

In the end, she crossed the finish line, just a hair behind the leader.

["Second place: Takehana Prince! Third place: Tamamo Cross! It was a close race, with less than a body's length separating first and third!"]

"...Damn."

The commentator announced her third-place finish. While it wasn't a terrible result, the gray-haired girl couldn't contain her anger and swore under her breath. No matter what excuses she made, this was a conditional race, not even worthy of a major grade. It was a mediocre event, the kind you had to win if you hoped to advance. But to think she couldn't even win here... It was pathetic.

"Hehe, thanks, everyone!" said the girl who came in first, now the star of the race, as she waved to the crowd. Her face was drenched in sweat, her hair stuck to her cheek, and the corners of her lips formed a delicate, victorious arc.

Tamamo Cross looked at that image, which somehow seemed far away, with a sinking feeling of despair.

"Haa!"

She let out a deep sigh and kicked an empty can rolling at her feet. With a dull thud, it ricocheted off the wall of a shopping mall. A stray dog below was startled and scrambled away.

"Ah... sorry," the girl in an oversized uniform mumbled an apology, but the dog was already gone.

The ashen-haired Uma Musume, Tamamo Cross, sighed for the umpteenth time and continued her slow walk home.

"When are you going home?"
"Ah, I'll just get something to eat and then head in."
"Oy! Nice to meet you, man! How many years has it been?"
"Shall we go to karaoke today?"

On the outskirts of Tokyo, people chatted and hurried along, diligently burning through their busy lives against the backdrop of the setting sun. Just because it was an ordinary life didn't necessarily mean it was a bad thing. But since this was her second life, she didn't want to live so rigidly. In the end, she supposed she was just ordinary in the eyes of others—a girl who strived to be special but fell short.

["Third place goes to Tamamo Cross! The ever-popular Tamamo Cross is third!"]

How many consecutive losses was it now? The result of today's race replayed in her mind, a lead weight of futility on her already exhausted body.

It was questionable whether a human with horse ears and a tail could be considered common, but surprisingly, they were a fairly common sight in this world. Her official name was "Uma Musume," a strangely eccentric being, half-horse, half-woman. Tamamo, hunched shouldered in the center of the pavement, was one of them.

Two large red ears perched on either side of her crown, and a gray tail, the same color as her long hair, swayed behind her. Aside from those two characteristics, she was indistinguishable from a human, but the strength in her slender legs far surpassed any ordinary person's.

However, it hadn't always been this way.

"It's been quite some time since I acquired this body."

Defeated and unwilling to go home, she slowed her pace and looked around, suddenly remembering her previous life—the life of an ordinary college student reduced to nothingness after an unfortunate accident. The memory was a blur, like a sunset shrouded in clouds. From childhood to university, the story of a man visible only through a thick fog. Delving into it was futile, but her mind was compelled to return to the past.

"I really thought I could win this time..."

She abruptly ended her recollection and returned to the grim reality of her third-place finish. She thought she was fed up with defeat, but perhaps she was still a rookie.

After being kicked off Team Stairway, she had honed her skills alone, determined to get revenge on the coach who had dismissed her. Judging by the effort she put in, she had out-trained anyone in that race. It wasn't that she underestimated her opponents, but she was confident. Hesitation in her sprints was a chronic problem, but she was still winning in training. She was faster. She was stronger.

But training didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was her performance in the race.

And what was that performance? Third place. Even behind those considered inferior. Her first taste of popularity since her debut, and she had squandered it. It was a result far below her expectations. If she couldn't win graded races like this, she would never be any good.

She hadn't become a runner because she particularly liked running. But she had the pedigree. Her mother was an excellent runner, so she thought it was only natural that she would also advance. Her mother, whom she had never seen in person—having passed away when Tamamo was young—was well-liked by many. She was nicknamed "White Lightning" for her unique running style. She wasn't an elite runner capable of winning a GI, but she was quite popular.

Compared to that, her current self, struggling in low-tier graded races... Thinking about it only made her miserable.

"Tch, I'll definitely win next time!"

Seeing the familiar residential buildings in the distance, Tamamo stretched her hunched body and forced energy into her limbs.

Still, her body inherited the unfulfilled dreams of her mother and her father, who had been her trainer. Even though she always suffered defeats, even though she felt small and insignificant, there was a reason why Tamamo Cross couldn't stop running.

"Hoo!"

The excitement of the noontime Grade One race had long since subsided. Everyone had left, and only silence remained at the Hanshin Racecourse.

The fingertips of a man with slicked-back hair and black sunglasses gently stroked the deep horseshoe marks left in the dirt.

"How are they? They're really good kids, aren't they? Especially Maruzensky, who came in first today..."

"A monster."

"Huh? Oh, she's got the makings of one, for sure. So far, she's only performing in the contingent races, but she'll do well even if she moves up to the intermediate level."

"Idiot. I don't mean her."

"Huh?"

Ignoring the trainer's confused reply, the man stared intently at a different set of footprints. At first glance, they looked like ordinary shoe soles, but the ground was deeply and violently dug out, as if a powerful beast had charged through.

The moment he saw them, an image of a girl he had seen that day flashed through his mind. A short girl, her long gray hair flowing behind her, running with a wild, desperate fury.

"Tamamo Cross... was it?"