Chapter 34: Premonition of a Clash

Suzuka & Spe Trainer POV

After the Autumn Handicap, the sudden announcement that Witolum Pedes would run in the Mainichi Okan caught everyone completely off guard. It was unquestionably not a rotation a two-crown, undefeated horsegirl should ever take. Even the Autumn Handicap had been questionable, and going further back, her entering the short-distance Crystal Cup before the Satsuki Sho had been completely unexpected as well.

According to Spe, Witolum Pedes just wanted to be in the same race as Grass Wonder, but I still have no idea what her true aim is. If the recent rumors are true—if she really just hates traveling—then running in the St. Lite Kinen would’ve made far more sense.

In any case, since she’s clearly adjusting herself for the Tenno Sho (Autumn) and the Japan Cup as her real targets, there’s no way her condition for the Mainichi Okan is going to be perfect.

In this state, going up against Suzuka—an opponent who never allows a moment to breathe—and that opponent being Witolum Pedes of all horsegirls, it’s difficult to imagine Suzuka winning as comfortably as she usually does.

Suzuka’s escape style can be described as “leading from behind.” In other words, she takes the front early, opens a gap, settles her breathing, and then uses that lead to delay her final burst until later than her rivals—almost like revealing her hand only after the opponent has already committed. Because she controls both the margin she allows and the tempo she maintains, it becomes extremely hard for any horsegirl—frontrunner, stalker, or closer—to overturn her advantage. This is the secret behind why Suzuka can be considered the strongest horsegirl.

So then—how do you beat that strategy?

You use another escape runner.

And not just any escape runner—you need a monster with Suzuka-class acceleration, top speed, and the stamina to still unleash a final kick after running a full-throttle escape.

When Suzuka first began making waves during the Classics, almost no one believed such a monster even existed. A horsegirl capable of breaking her perfected escape strategy shouldn’t just appear out of nowhere.

But I knew—and Suzuka knew too.

We both knew that there was a horsegirl who might try to run in exactly the same way Suzuka does.

In fact, the original idea behind “escape, but still out-finish the field” came from her running style. It took mountains of trial and error for Suzuka to reach the level of perfection she holds now, but if the prototype exists, then it’s not strange at all that a countermeasure could be created.

So from Witolum Pedes’s perspective—how would she try to beat Suzuka?

Naturally, to crush an escape runner, you can’t let her relax. But Witolum Pedes isn’t especially skilled at managing pace, despite technically being an escape-type horsegirl. Against someone like Suzuka, she’ll have to think carefully about how she distributes her stamina. That means the most likely position she’ll aim for is right behind Suzuka—close enough to react the moment Suzuka initiates her move.

Then what should Suzuka do? How should she run, and when should she strike?

What must she do to secure control at the fourth corner?

Pace control? No—that’s far too risky. It’s not something that succeeds without advanced technique, and Suzuka isn’t the type to restrain herself for long.

If there’s any viable method, it lies in the lead itself.

The showdown at the fourth corner, then the stretch. Suzuka needs a lead that forces Witolum Pedes to trigger her final burst first. Witolum Pedes isn’t the type who slips smoothly into her late acceleration. Suzuka should have enough time between sensing her opponent’s pre-burst signs and unleashing her own finishing power.

Two to three lengths should be enough—especially if Suzuka has managed even a single moment to breathe.

Yokoshima Trainer POV

I did tell her she was free to choose whatever races she wanted, but I never imagined she’d end up facing Silence Suzuka in the Mainichi Okan. I fully expected their first real showdown to be in the Tenno Sho (Autumn), so this development definitely caught me off guard.

Given how things have turned out, we’ll need to rethink our short-term strategy. But that’s exactly the kind of challenge a trainer should welcome. If it's to fulfill my horsegirl’s wishes, I’ll adjust anything—training plans included.

Still, with the strain on her legs, I can’t apply too much load. It’ll be less “hard training” and more “fine-tuning toward the race.”

Recently, Wee—Witolum Pedes—has stopped resisting training as much. If I mix in a little game-like fun to keep her motivated, I think I can get her properly tuned.

Even so, the opponent is Silence Suzuka. She’s not someone you can casually try to outrun. Even if you take the lead early, she has a terrifying closing kick that can come from behind at the very end.

I always thought I understood—at least in theory—how frightening it would be for a horsegirl to combine natural escape talent with a first-class finishing kick.

But Silence Suzuka’s ability wasn’t just about her individual strengths. She had reached a realm where every component of her running functioned together as a single, unified system. She knew exactly when to use each of her weapons, created the conditions where those weapons became maximally effective, and then imposed those conditions on her opponents. The one who perfected that entire flow—from setup to execution—was Silence Suzuka, together with her trainer.

And then there was Wee. She was an escape runner, but terrible at pacing herself in a way that properly accounted for stamina distribution. With practice she might improve, but knowing her, she’d hate every method we could possibly use to teach her.

Given her struggles, it would be better for her not to blindly run out in front. Instead, she should sit behind Silence Suzuka, where she can watch her and react. Ideally, she would stick to Suzuka’s tail just like before, then slingshot past her on the home stretch.

And there were still more factors to consider.

One was that strange deceleration she displayed in the Derby—likely her so-called “domain,” or whatever it was. She claimed it let her recover a bit of stamina, but whether it had other effects was unknown. Most importantly, they still had no idea how it activated.

A “soul-engraved winning pattern” could vary wildly in activation difficulty depending on the horsegirl. Why it had only triggered during the Derby remained a mystery. Pure distance shouldn’t activate it here in the Mainichi Okan, but…

And another concern was Grass Wonder.

Wee had raced against her twice—the Ivy Stakes and then the Asahi Hai at the end of the year.

In both cases, Wee ran at a faster pace than planned. According to her, she felt some kind of pressure radiating from Grass Wonder that forced her to push the pace.

He could only hope she wouldn’t lose her cool and bolt ahead again this time.

Those worries circled his mind as they arrived at the autumn Fan Appreciation Festival.

Since it wasn’t directly related to racing, he assumed she would be sleeping in the trainer’s room like usual. But apparently she and Stay Gold—her roommate—were running a yakisoba stall together.

At first, he was surprised. But now, Wee was undeniably a top-class star horsegirl. It wouldn’t be strange to see her name printed in the festival pamphlet. There was no way she could get away with just sleeping through the day anymore.

And it wasn’t as if she disliked interacting with fans. In fact, when people spoke to her at the racecourse or waved to her on the way there, she always responded—awkwardly, yes—but she did. Especially when it came to children… she was weak to them.

He was genuinely moved: Wee had finally started taking part in events like this. But while walking around the festival with several fellow trainers, it happened.

His eyes almost popped out of his head. He clamped a hand over his mouth to keep himself from shouting.

Wee was standing there in her racing outfit, holding a sign and advertising their yakisoba.

No—the racing outfit wasn’t the issue. He wanted to ask why she wasn’t in her school uniform, but he decided to let that go.

What shocked him was the sash draped over her shoulder boldly declaring “I am the strongest,” and the headband on her forehead emblazoned with the kanji for “Tyrant.” Every inch of her radiated the aura of someone ready to pick a fight with the entire world.

For a moment, he had no idea what she was thinking. But… this was something she wanted to do too, probably. It didn’t feel right to shut down her fun with her friend… probably.

All he wanted was for her not to cause some colossal disaster right as the Tenno Sho (Autumn) entry announcements approached.

By the way, the mood among the trainers walking with him had grown several shades heavier—but that was simply the way things were.