Chapter 38: Aiming for the Autumn Shield.

The week after the Mainichi Ōkan, King-chan and Spe-chan were running in the Kyoto Shimbun Hai. In the final stretch, the two were side by side as they lunged for the finish line, but King-chan won by a nose. Spe-chan still hadn’t fully recovered from the Great Big Appreciation Festival—her diet hadn’t wrapped up in time—so maybe that tiny difference cost her the win.

While Spe-chan was fighting the scale, Suzuka-san was apparently in perfect form. According to Trainer-san, she might be an entirely different beast compared to the Mainichi Ōkan. So she really had been hiding her second form this whole time. I even heard stories about her encountering a UFO once, so it wouldn’t be strange if she were secretly communicating with outer space.

Speaking of which, I’d been hearing the word “classic” everywhere lately—Classic-class Tennōshō, Classic Triple Crown, Classic this, Classic that—and since I had no idea what any of it actually meant, I looked it up. Apparently, the word is used in several different ways.

It turns out there are Classic races: the Satsuki-shō, the Tokyo Yūshun, the Kikuka-shō, the Oka-shō, and the Oaks. Out of those, the only one I’ve run in is the Satsuki-shō. That mysterious race called the Tokyo Yūshun can sit aside for now, but the Derby… and the last race on the Tiara route… apparently that one isn’t considered a Classic race.

There’s also something called a Classic distance, which refers to 2400 meters—the same as the Derby. If I remember correctly, the Japan Cup is run at that distance too.

So, in short, the Classic Triple Crown is a title earned by winning the Satsuki-shō, the Kikuka-shō, and the Derby—which uses the Classic distance.

Well… they might all be races in the Classic class, but honestly, who came up with such a convoluted system? The selection seems random. The venues are scattered everywhere, and the distances don’t even match.

And since the Japan Cup is also a Classic-distance race, I wonder if you could swap it in for the Kikuka-shō and still end up with a Triple Crown if you won it in the Classic class. Well, whatever. The world is full of complicated things—just thinking about it is exhausting.

By the way, “Yūshun” means Derby, so “Tokyo Yūshun”—the Tokyo Derby—is apparently a dirt race. No wonder I didn’t know that. I almost never run on dirt.

Training has been going well, and Trainer-san has been taking me around all kinds of training facilities. I’m surprised every day by how many places inside Tracen Academy I’d never even heard of. Honestly, I’m thinking of scouting out the best nap spots for when I retire.

Speaking of which, while I was doing a training exercise on the far edge of campus—hammering wooden planks into a cliff—I ran into Sei-chan and her Trainer-san. I was peeking from the shade of a tree as she sprinted up and down the cliff stairs with an incredibly serious expression, but she noticed me almost instantly. The moment she realized it was me, Sei-chan panicked so hard that it felt refreshingly new, considering I’m usually the one she gives a hard time.

Since it would’ve been rude to linger too long, I just told her, "Good luck with your training," and headed back. But honestly, her reaction was adorable, so the next time I find her, I think I’ll sneak another peek.

At long last, the Autumn Tennōshō is coming up, and after that I’m scheduled to run in the Japan Cup. Its name is similar to the Japan World Cup from that old game I played, and the distance is the same too, so I’m sure that means lots of interesting Uma Musume will come in from overseas. And then at the end of the year comes the Arima Kinen. Thinking about it, after these next three races, the season will be over. Well… assuming I manage to pull off a proper last run.

Trainer’s POV

From the moment the Mainichi Ōkan ended—or more precisely, from the moment we officially announced that she would run in the Autumn Tennōshō and not in the Kikuka-shō—things became truly hectic. The discussions with the Chairman and the Student Council President were exhausting. Of course, no one tried to force an unreasonable entry out of us, but the whole matter snowballed into a debate affecting the entire racing world, and my stomach hurt constantly.

As for the media, I made sure to explain everything carefully to the reporters we’ve worked with over the years, so at least not every article out there should end up being total nonsense. Fortunately, Wee isn’t the type to care about what the media says, and since she rarely goes outside, she doesn’t have many opportunities to see any of it anyway.

Just when all of that had finally settled down a bit, Wee walked into the trainer’s office and dropped something outrageous on me. She asked what she should do for her final race—the last run before retirement.

For a moment, I wondered if she had seen cruel comments online and lost interest in racing altogether. Or maybe, since she had already beaten Silence Suzuka, she felt she had no more rivals left and wanted to retire at the top.

But when I asked her, it turned out she had simply overheard talk about some Uma Musume who were planning to retire soon. She didn’t mention any names, but it was probably about Taiki Shuttle retiring at the end of the year.

Even so, for that alone to get her thinking about her own last run… well, I don’t want to sound rude, but that’s not very like Wee. Normally she shows little interest in anything beyond the very next race in front of her.

Still, it’s good to talk about things like this once in a while. Imagining what races she’ll enter and what opponents she’ll face—just thinking about it fills me with excitement. But no matter how much we struggle, the end will eventually come. I don’t know whether that’ll be years from now or sooner.

When I hear “last run,” the first image that comes to mind is, of course, Oguri Cap’s miraculous final victory. Charging through the finish line ahead of a field of absolute monsters—there’s no way to recall it without tearing up. Because it’s a year-end race, many legendary Uma Musume choose it as their final stage, and retiring after winning there is as dramatic as it gets. Tokai Teio, too—though unintentionally—had her Arima Kinen victory as her final race.

Other memorable final runs include Sakura Bakushin O and North Flight. Both refused to yield their specialties, and both ended their careers with record-setting victories—it was unbelievable.

I got carried away talking, but it seems Wee understood. She said her final run would be the Arima Kinen, with a record-breaking victory no less. That’s a bit greedy, I think—but with Wee, I can almost imagine her pulling it off. At this rate, her biggest rival in her retirement race might be her own personal times from a year earlier.

Still, having goals is a good thing, and she suddenly threw herself into training with real focus. As we head into the Autumn Tennōshō, we’ll mainly work on speed while mixing in guts and intelligence training as well.

Speed training is manageable—if I constantly switch up methods and keep things fresh, she clears it without issue. If I catered solely to Wee’s preferences, everything would turn into reflex-based exercises, so I have to be careful.

Guts training, however, is a problem. Even without guts, she brute-forces everything with sheer athletic ability, so only her non-guts stats get trained. I can’t raise the intensity any further, so I’m at a loss. I tried having her drag one of those giant tires the senior trainers recommended, but she pulled it around like it was a suitcase. I definitely didn’t expect that.

As for intelligence—things like race tactics and positioning—I tried a few approaches, but she seemed overly stressed, so I stopped. I didn’t think she’d react so strongly to printed books, but apparently she does. I tried giving her some strategy-focused video games instead, but she simply dismissed them as boring and refused to continue.

Still, seeing her abilities skyrocket every time she trains is the greatest reward a trainer could ask for. It makes me feel ashamed of how little quality training I was able to give her before now.

To think she would become this cooperative… maybe what Wee needed all along was a big, distant goal.

Hmm… in that case, setting goals after spring might become difficult. If Wee is okay with going abroad, we could aim for races like the Takarazuka Kinen or the Spring Tennōshō—or even the major European races like the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe or the King George VI & Queen Elizabeth Stakes. Knowing Wee’s whims, she might suddenly get the urge to enter some race out of nowhere.

Well… I should at least start researching our options.