Chapter 13: First G1!

King Halo’s POV

I don’t really know what first pushed me to choose a life in the world of racing at Tracen Academy.

There’s no doubt that the final push came when Mother told me I had no talent.

But even if she hadn’t said it, I already understood. I already knew what a truly talented Uma Musume looked like.

I met her in an elementary school race. It wasn’t even a famous tournament—just a small local competition. For me, a daughter who had always lived up to Mother’s expectations, it was the kind of race I was supposed to win without question.

I joined that race in pursuit of a brilliant victory worthy of the elite—the kind of beautiful win only the best are permitted to achieve. And yet, in that very race, I lost.

There was no word for it but a complete defeat.

It wasn’t about the difference in lengths. No matter how many times I imagined redoing it, I couldn’t find a single route that would lead me to victory. That’s the kind of “unwinnable” it felt like.

It wasn’t carelessness or coincidence—I had been undeniably outclassed. Before and after that day, there has been no one else who could make me feel that way.

I raced her many times after that, and each time I lost.

If I tried to settle into a good position and push through from there, she would pull away in an instant from a similar spot.

If I tried launching a bold early move from behind, she would pass me right back as soon as I overtook her.

If I tried escaping in front, her pressure creeping up behind me would throw my pace into chaos.

If I tried coming from the back, she would widen the gap before I could even reach her.

My original running style had vanished long ago. I changed my positioning and techniques over and over, constantly challenging her. At some point, I threw away all form and focused solely on beating her.

Even the gritty training I once despised—I stopped avoiding it. Training made me stronger, and feeling the improvement with every run made me genuinely happy. Because it meant I was getting closer to her.

My consistency in races improved too. I had many overwhelming victories by more than five lengths.

With my results—and perhaps more than the reputation of being Mother’s daughter—I became an Uma Musume of interest among my generation.

But the faster I became, the faster she grew as well. Her greatest weapon was that incredible finishing burst. Up until the last 100 meters, I could somehow keep up, but from there she would leave me behind in an instant.

Had I truly been racing her? Or was I merely challenging her?

At some point, she had taken residence in my heart.

I decided to enter Tracen Academy, ignoring Mother’s objections. To make Mother, to make her, and to make myself—King Halo—acknowledge that I am the one who belongs among the elite.

Even at Tracen Academy, the distance between us didn’t shrink. If anything, it may have grown.

A few months after enrollment, we had a mock race that included Special Week-san. She was, of course, strong. In a front half run at a ludicrous pace, her closing speed—so fast she might as well have sprouted wings—completely overwhelmed me.

What jolted me back to reality was seeing her trainer desperately cooling her legs afterward.

I’d heard rumors that her legs weren’t very sturdy. I’d heard them even before entering Tracen Academy.

But after enrollment, she ran the course almost every day at speeds indistinguishable from an actual race.

She once mentioned that her trainer only allowed her to run at that pace for one lap, but that was normal for any Uma Musume. I assumed the rumors about her frailty were simply wrong.

Thankfully, she didn’t injure her legs during the mock race.

Uma Musume love running outdoors, but that alone isn’t training. Running always puts strain on the legs. Indoor training, on the other hand, is easier on the legs, though many Uma Musume don’t particularly enjoy it.

Her trainer must have been combining both types of training to ensure her naturally fragile legs never exceeded their limits.

From that point on, we never raced together again.

By the time her debut approached, her legs had become far stronger than before. She handled a tightly packed schedule of four consecutive races with ease.

She said it was thanks to her trainer’s massages—but I know it wasn’t just that.

I’d seen her returning to the dorm late at night. Not once or twice, but many times. When I called out to her and asked what she’d been doing, she dodged the question. But she always came from the direction of the trainer’s building. That alone was more than enough to understand.

To be acknowledged by everyone, you have to put in the effort when no one is watching. A true elite like her would naturally do just that.

And now, I get to race against her—my proud rival—in a graded stakes race.

Holding that pride in my heart, I stepped into the starting gate.

Witolum Pedes’s POV

It’s unreasonable.
I have experienced a completely inexplicable injustice.

Last Sunday, while I was blissfully drowning in laziness, two Uma Musume appeared before me. One of them was my roommate, so “appeared” isn’t exactly the right word—but the other one was the problem.

It was none other than Mejiro McQueen-san.

From what I’ve heard, Mejiro McQueen-san is an Uma Musume who used to be extraordinarily strong and famous. Even I know her name, so she must have been incredible.

I also had this image of her stuffing herself with sweets while saying “pakupaku desu wa,” and apparently that was true—she said she’d been lured here today by a limited-edition Kyoto dessert.

Faced with someone like her, I barely had time to greet her before I was dragged off to the pool.

According to what they told me, if someone wants to continue running the Twinkle Series journey for as long as possible, stamina is essential, and they were currently training for that. Now that I think about it, I feel like they’ve mentioned that before.

After realizing the need for it during the recent Kikuka Sho, they somehow decided to drag me along for stamina training in the pool.

No, I didn’t want to run until I collapsed, and while wondering what kind of “journey” the two of them were even talking about, I suddenly found myself standing at the pool’s edge.

As a final act of resistance, I suggested we should at least get permission from the trainer, but it seems McQueen-san had already handled everything. Now that I recall it, the trainer told me yesterday, “Do your best tomorrow.”

And so, my restful Sunday transformed into blisteringly fast dog paddling in the pool.

By the way, McQueen-san—the one in charge of instruction—initially had no intention of swimming, but after deciding she needed to “pakupaku” her sweets, she ended up swimming anyway.

Getting to see McQueen-san in an unbearably cute swimsuit was probably the only silver lining.

After the mysterious “pool abduction event” ended, the following week finally brought the Tokyo Sports Hai Juvenile Stakes.

Because it was a graded race, we were greeted with a fanfare different from usual as we headed toward the gate. The atmosphere was tense, and King-chan beside me looked like she was fully in battle mode. Even the air from the stands felt heavier than usual… and right as I was looking up at them, the gate opened.

By the time I hurried out of the gate, King-chan’s back was already far ahead.

Today’s plan was to run in front as usual, so I tried to push forward in a panic—but the space beside and ahead of me was blocked, leaving me no way through.

About 300 meters from the start, I was completely swallowed by the middle of the pack.

Uma Musume in front, Uma Musume behind, Uma Musume to the left and right—and on top of that, I swear some of them were staring at me. The pack is the absolute worst.

It’s hard to run at my preferred pace, and the turf kicked up by the Uma Musume in front keeps flying at me.

I tried to endure it for a while, but by the time the turn ended, my patience had reached its limit.

Just before entering the straight, I eased up on my legs with everything I had.
If I couldn’t move forward, then I’d break out from behind instead.

As if the chaotic struggle of the past few dozen seconds had been a lie, the Uma Musume beside me disappeared within seconds.

Once I slipped out to the side, the path ahead finally cleared.

The sensation of the turf pressing back against my legs felt strangely pleasant.

Now freed, my legs carried me past the pack that had trapped me—sweeping around them from the outside in an instant.

And right in front of me was King-chan.

While I’d been stuck inside the cluster, I hadn’t noticed it—but this time, King-chan was running as a front-runner.

The exposed tips of my horse ears caught the crowd’s shouts, echoing in my head.

“Pass her!” —I felt like I heard that.

“Hold the lead!” —those voices existed too.

“Go for it!” —that was the most common.

But what I wanted was to pass her.

For some reason, that thought made me push my legs even harder.

The huge cheers pouring in from the sides sent my heartbeat pounding faster than ever, pumping blood through my legs. In response, my legs struck the ground with even stronger force.

The gap between me and King-chan shrank rapidly.

Two hundred meters left. Five lengths.

The hoofbeats of the Uma Musume behind me were drowned out entirely by the cheering.

All I could hear was King-chan’s stride beside me, and my own—much louder than usual.

At the last 100 meters, I overtook the tenaciously hanging-on King-chan, and with that same momentum, I surged straight across the finish line.

A tingling in my legs unlike anything I’d felt before, and a heartbeat much faster than usual.

Normally I’d hate sensations like these—but today, they felt just a little bit pleasant.