Chapter 19: The Decisive Finish

The Asahi Hai Futurity Stakes.

We stood inside the gates, waiting for that precise moment the race would begin. The air was silent—so still it almost hurt. Then, with a sharp metallic clang, the gates burst open before us.

"Here we go! The Asahi Hai Futurity Stakes is underway! Who will claim the glory of victory today?"

"Mihono Bourbon takes the lead right out of the gate! A flawless start—this looks promising for her!"

The battle for the lead ended in seconds. None of the others could match Bourbon’s explosive start, and she seized the front uncontested. For the other front-runners, this was going to be a grueling fight.

"One length behind, Beam of Love holds second! She’s giving it everything she’s got, but it looks like she’s already struggling!"

"Keeping up with Mihono Bourbon’s pace would be nearly impossible—and overtaking her without her slowing down? Even harder."

Hanshin Turf, 1600 meters, outer track. The course is known for its wide curves and only two real straights—the backstretch and the final stretch. Because of that, front-runners—especially escape-types—must handle every turn with precision.

And Bourbon’s cornering was flawless. Without losing even a hint of speed, she took the first corner smoothly, maintaining a steady rhythm.

"They’ve cleared the backstretch and are entering the corner! The leader remains Mihono Bourbon!"

"Kustawy’s making her move! Could she be aiming to take the lead at the turn?"

"And at the very back—it’s Mithialx!"

"But her performance isn’t bad at all. Her cornering is clean, and she’s clearly conserving stamina. That might be the right call."

Even from the rear, I couldn’t let my guard down. I used the internal timer I’d honed through endless drills to track Bourbon’s lap times as precisely as possible.

If my timing was correct, Mihono Bourbon’s splits were under twelve seconds per furlong—roughly every 200 meters. You’ve got to be kidding me…

"Mihono Bourbon’s pace is still flawless! What a display of power!"

"She’s keeping every other front-runner at bay, proudly leading the field! Whether she can maintain that pace down the final stretch—and whether anyone else has enough left to challenge her—will decide everything!"

Twelve seconds times eight furlongs equals ninety-six seconds. That’s one minute thirty-six. The winning time for the Asahi Hai Futurity Stakes usually falls between 1:32 and 1:35.

Meaning, if she keeps this up—staying under twelve seconds per furlong—she’s on track for a record.

And Mi-ho-no-Bour-bon… probably won’t slow down.

"Oh? Is Mithialx picking up speed in the back? Maybe she’s panicking from Bourbon’s blistering pace?"

"The front pack seems to be reacting too—they’re accelerating in response!"

I exhaled softly—haa—then adjusted my breathing.

I read the breathing patterns of the runners ahead, subtly disrupting their rhythm before adding pressure with my own pace as I picked up a little speed.

Thrown off by the change, the group began to lose cohesion, accelerating unevenly.

"That’s a strange burst of speed! It’s rare for the entire pack to get pulled off balance like that!"

"Some of them are completely losing their pacing now!"

Bit by bit, I drained the stamina of the front group—through acceleration, deceleration, sound, and pressure. I was already preparing for the final phase.

And, of course, I made sure to carve out a path for myself.

"Oh? Mithialx looked caught up earlier, but she’s regained her rhythm now!"

"This could turn into a one-on-one duel—Mithialx versus Mihono Bourbon!"

Losing footing in a corner is fatal. Once a runner’s rhythm breaks, they’re out of the fight for the lead in an instant.

In the end, only Mihono Bourbon remained at the front, pushing on alone.

"They’re almost through the second corner! The race will be decided from here!"

"The Hanshin final stretch is long—and it includes both a downhill and an uphill. How each runner uses that will determine the outcome!"

The moment to strike would come after the turn onto the straight. If I made my move now, I wouldn’t last until the goal.

So I held my breath, eyes locked on Bourbon. Her lap times hadn’t wavered—still steady under twelve seconds.

And then—the fated final stretch arrived.

"Now they’re on the final straight! Mihono Bourbon still in front, pace unbroken! Can anyone catch her?!"

"Here comes Mithialx! She’s making her move!"

With a light tap of my step, I surged forward, weaving through the chaotic pack.

The others—thrown off by Bourbon’s relentless pace and drained from my earlier pressure—had already lost their spark. Their speed was fading fast.

Using the downhill slope to my advantage, I unleashed a higher level of acceleration and tore through the field.

"A furious charge! Using the downhill to launch like lightning! Could Mithialx pull it off?!"

"Her acceleration’s even stronger than during the Keio Cup! But there’s still distance between her and Mihono Bourbon!"

Roughly six lengths to Bourbon. The gap wouldn’t shrink.

Even after accelerating downhill, I still couldn’t close in. That’s how fast her escape pace was.

Do I use it? That move?

"Just 200 meters left! And here’s where the downhill turns uphill!"

"Mihono Bourbon still holding her pace uphill—but Mithialx is accelerating! It’s a head-to-head battle now!"

The instant the slope turned upward, I kicked hard into the turf—launching forward with everything I had.

Sprint Turbo. I’d trained it until it could even be used in mile races.

I threw my entire body into it, closing the distance on Bourbon.

"Mithialx accelerates! She’s gaining speed even uphill! The gap to Bourbon is shrinking!"

"Unbelievable closing speed! Could she actually pull this off?!"

"Mihono Bourbon’s trying to hold on—can she make it to the finish?!"

Three lengths. Then two. The gap between me and Bourbon was closing fast.

But I couldn’t hold Sprint Turbo much longer. The strain in my legs was unbearable—my body screaming at its limit. Yet the finish line was right there. Just a little more!

I forced power back into my legs, stamping harder into the turf.

Limits? Who cares about limits. This—this is the moment you break them!

"M-Mithialx is accelerating again! Will she draw even with Bourbon? Will she overtake—or will Bourbon hold her off?!"

"Mihono Bourbon’s expression is tightening! There’s almost no distance left! Which of them will seize victory?!"

Ignoring the pain surging through my legs, I poured everything into one final burst—until I drew level with Bourbon. From here, I just had to go—past her—!

But Bourbon wasn’t about to let me. As if responding to my challenge, she summoned the last of her strength and surged forward.

No way—how does she still have that kind of power left!?

Side by side, we thundered across the finish line.

"Who… who took it?!"

"It looked like Mihono Bourbon might have had a slight advantage in posture—but it’s too close to call!"

I… lost.

The placements weren’t even posted yet, but I already knew. In that final moment, I couldn’t pass Mihono Bourbon.

I stood frozen on the turf, forcing back the tears threatening to spill. I’d given it everything—every last drop—and it still wasn’t enough.

"The results are in! First place: Mihono Bourbon! Second place: Mithialx!"

"What an incredible race! To see this level of performance from juniors—these two have a bright future ahead!"

Ah… so it’s official. I lost.

Before I knew it, I was back in the waiting room. I wasn’t even sure how I’d gotten there. The shock had numbed everything.

"Lux…"

"…Sorry, Trainer. I lost. After all that big talk, I couldn’t beat Bourbon."

Everything I’d been holding in came flooding out. I’d held it together in front of the crowd, but now—now the tears came pouring down.

"You believed in me too, Trainer… and I couldn’t live up to it… I’m so sorry…"

"It’s okay, Lux. You ran an incredible race out there—a GⅠ debut like that is more than enough."

"But still—but still!"

The Trainer pulled me into a hug as I cried.

He rubbed my back gently, his warmth seeping into me, and little by little my heart began to calm. Why… why does this feel so comforting…?

"Mihono Bourbon was strong. She’s the kind of racer who’ll be competing at the top of GⅠ races. I can say that with certainty now."

"Uuuh… I know… but I wanted to win so badly…! The one who can beat Mihono Bourbon someday will definitely be…"

"What do you mean?"

"That’s… well—"

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. The post-race concert was still a while off. Who could it be?

"Excuse me, may I come in? There’s something I’d like to discuss."

"H-huh? Bourbon-san!? W-wait just a second!"

"Understood. Status: 'Standby.'"

Why was Bourbon here? Could it be… she came to say goodbye? She’d be moving on to the Classic Triple Crown route soon. This might be the last time we’d ever race each other.

"Trainer! Do I look okay!? Is my face weird or something!?"

"You look fine—just the usual adorable Lux."

"Eh—hehe… wait, that’s not the point! Ugh, fine! Bourbon-san, please come in!"

"Yes. Excuse me."

"I-I’ll get some tea right away! Please, make yourself comfortable!"

Bourbon sat quietly in her chair, eyes fixed on me. She didn’t touch the tea—just kept looking straight at me.

What… what is this atmosphere?

"Um…"

"…………"

"Bourbon-san?"

"I’ve been thinking about what I should say. But rather than overanalyzing it, I decided it would be best to simply express my feelings."

Still holding my gaze, Bourbon spoke calmly and clearly.

"Thank you. It was a truly, truly wonderful race."

"Eh… um, what?"

"Lux-san, I’m glad I got to run with you. Status: 'Gratitude.'"

I hadn’t expected her to thank me—it caught me completely off guard.

Sure, today’s race had been fierce—worthy of being called a battle. I’d even thought, just once, that I didn’t want it to end like this.

I wanted to race her again. To challenge her again—and win next time.

But that wish would never come true if Bourbon was heading toward the middle and long-distance circuits.

"Have you decided on your next race, Lux?"

"Um, not yet..."

"This time, I was the one who chose the race. Next time, you decide. A short-distance race—your specialty. I want to run with you again there."

"...Huh?"

What did she just say? Mihono Bourbon was supposed to move on to the Classic Triple Crown route. She shouldn’t have any time to spare for a sprint race.

So then... what’s going on?

"Bourbon-san, may I ask—what route are you planning to take from here? Sorry if this sounds rude, but... I didn’t expect you to come to the short-distance circuit."

"Affirmative. My original plan was to take the mid-to-long-distance route in order to aim for the Triple Crown."

"Then why...?"

Just as I thought—she was originally aiming for the Triple Crown. But now she’s suddenly changing direction... why?

Now that I think about it, I’ve seen something like this before. That was… right, back then…

"The reason I aimed for the Triple Crown was a vague one. Perhaps it simply felt like the right purpose for running at the time."

The Triple Crown had always been Mihono Bourbon’s dream. As a child, she once watched a race with her father that left a deep impression on her—that was what inspired her to chase the Triple Crown. At least, that’s how her story goes in the app version.

"I don’t even remember why I set that goal anymore. It must have been something trivial."

"You don’t remember… your motivation?"

"Correct. I probably just read about the Triple Crown somewhere. Back then, I didn’t have a clear purpose for running. So when I saw those words—‘Triple Crown’—they simply left a strong impression on me."

I couldn’t take my eyes off Mihono Bourbon as she spoke.

It felt like I was witnessing a major turning point.

"And then, I met you. You were the first to truly challenge me—to chase me down until the very end. Even more so this time than before."

"But… I still couldn’t win."

"Even so. At the moment we crossed the finish line… it was the first time I ever thought, I might lose."

Mihono Bourbon’s gaze locked onto mine—steady, unwavering.

This Mihono Bourbon—she must have come this far without ever having a true reason to run.
And I was the one who gave her that reason.

"In that instant, something strange welled up inside me. The same feeling I had when we trained together before—but far stronger than anything I’ve ever felt."

"Is that why you came to see me today, Bourbon-san?"

"Yes. I’ve analyzed this feeling and determined it to be: status—‘Fighting Spirit.’ I want to challenge you again. That is my wish."

"I see… In that case…"

I pointed straight at Mihono Bourbon and declared:

"Next time, I’ll win."

Unfortunately, there won’t be another major short-distance race until early March next year. But I’m sure this fire in my chest won’t cool down, no matter how many months pass.

This fierce desire to win—an emotion burning so intensely, directed toward a single rival.
Yeah… I’m sure I feel the same way Bourbon does.

"The Fillies’ Revue. A GII short-distance race in March. That’s where we’ll settle this—on my home turf, in a sprint."

"Understood. I will win again."

"No—you won’t. Next time, I’ll be the one who wins."

A declaration of war.

The complete opposite of our last race at the Asahi Hai Futurity Stakes—this time, I’m the one issuing the challenge.

Having found a true rival, I finish my junior year and step onto a new stage.

Year Two of my Uma Musume life—the Classic Class.

Now entering a realm where senior and classic-class Uma Musume clash and intertwine, I’ll keep running forward.

What awaits me beyond that finish line, I wonder—

The three goddesses—who reforged the sacred sword and gave birth to the shooting star—at last witnessed that very star shine upon the grand stage of GⅠ.

And in that moment, she altered destiny itself.

The three goddesses already knew.
In this world, Mihono Bourbon was fated to walk a tragic path—to reach for the Triple Crown, only to fall short and break down before realizing her dream.
That was the future that awaited her.

But now, things were different.

Fate had wavered—shifted—and rewritten its course.
Seeing that, the three goddesses rejoiced.
If this was possible, then surely… more Uma Musume could be saved.
More of them could find happiness.

And so, the goddesses began their preparations anew—
to grant that shooting star the strength to overturn even more tragedies.