Chapter 190: Three Arrows, Never Breaking

Souri Cross is a “normal mob” Uma Musume.

…There was a time when I never thought that about myself.

If anything, I used to mistake myself for something like a protagonist.

There was nothing particularly unusual about my family, and apparently my mom wasn’t an especially exceptional Uma Musume either… but when I was little, I was still pretty confident.

After all, back in my hometown, I never lost. Whenever we raced, I always took first place, and everyone would fuss over me, saying, “Souri-chan is amazing, amazing!”

Even when people irresponsibly told me I could probably succeed in Central, I let those words carry me away. In the narrow little world of my hometown, I was—quite literally—the hero of the story.

…but when you look at the vast world called Japan—

An Uma Musume like Souri Cross was nothing more than a background character.

I truly realized that after coming to Central.

Of course, I had heard it before: “Central is on a completely different level than the regions.” That it was filled with monsters far beyond ordinary standards.

But hearing it and actually experiencing it were two very different things.

When I enrolled… two years ago now, it was right around the time Senior Wilm had just moved up to the Classic class.

Back then, the Twinkle Series didn’t really have a standout star.

Seniors like Mejiro Ryan and Innocent Grimoire drew some attention, but neither could be called overwhelmingly dominant.

Even Senior Mejiro McQueen—who is now Senior Wilm’s rival—hadn’t yet developed that much strength.

It was an era without a truly transcendent powerhouse.

And because of that, I guess I managed to hold onto a completely baseless confidence—thinking that maybe I could become like them.

That I would be the one to leave my name in history. That I would surpass those Uma Musume and sweep the G1 races.

It was the kind of dreamy ambition only a naïve child, ignorant of the real world, could have.

Looking back now, it’s embarrassing.

But that dream… shattered when I came to know two particular Uma Musume.

One of them, of course, was Hoshino Wilm.

The Ashen Dragon. A dazzling first-magnitude star. A living myth.

The Satsuki Sho where she ran—defeating Teio, who had been called the undisputed strongest at the time, purely through her own strength—and winning by eight lengths.

That overwhelming spectacle drove my thoughts—already starting to cool after seeing classmates with more talent than me—straight down to the very bottom of reality.

Maybe I was a little strong, but in the end, I was nothing more than one of the countless ordinary Uma Musume.

And somewhere in this world, there truly existed girls chosen by fate—Uma Musume who looked like the protagonists of a story.

The Central G1 races were a special place reserved for those “real ones,” where only the chosen fought for supremacy.

I learned that reality. I learned my place. I learned who I was.

Souri Cross was just an ordinary Uma Musume.

Not someone chosen.

And yet…

Even so, after running alongside another girl—Bourbon-chan—in joint training several times…

I began to feel frustrated.

Miho no Bourbon.

Another Uma Musume who forced me to face reality, just like Hoshino Wilm.

She was different from me… one of the chosen.

Trainer Horino—the one who raised Senior Wilm—had personally chosen her. In a way, that alone might have made it inevitable.

Her father had been a trainer, and her mother came from a sprinting bloodline—yet Bourbon herself aimed for the Classic Triple Crown over middle and long distances.

Because of that contradiction—something most trainers would never accept—her contract was terminated.

And when she had nowhere left to go, she was taken in by the same trainer who had achieved an undefeated Triple Crown the previous year with Hoshino Wilm, despite also coming from humble circumstances.

From there, it became a Cinderella story.

As if chasing after Hoshino Wilm herself, Bourbon went on to secure two crowns while remaining undefeated.

Ah… how dramatic, how dazzling, how “special” that fate was.

She was nothing like me.

Not just the protagonist of a small personal world like mine—

But surely one of the brightest stars in the constellation that formed this entire racing world—the Twinkle Series itself.

There was no way a “normal” Uma Musume like me could defeat someone “special” like her.

A background character couldn’t defeat the protagonist of the world.

Her destiny was dramatic enough to make anyone believe that.

And more than anything—

Her strength was overwhelming.

The moment I started running alongside her during training, I understood.

A blistering pace that made no sense. Impossible stamina. Astonishing technique.

Not a single thing—not even one—was something I could surpass Miho no Bourbon in, even though we were both front-running Uma Musume.

And that…

…made me so frustrated I could have died.

I already knew it.

There was no way I could win.

She was different from ordinary people.

A mob character couldn’t defeat the protagonist.

I knew it. I knew it. …I knew it.

And yet, I couldn’t completely extinguish the burning feeling smoldering deep in my chest.

So I challenged her—

holding onto the words that person once gave me.

"Souri-chan, you said that once you started taking it seriously, you could finally feel the gap between you two, right? That means you’ve reached a level where you can truly compete with Bourbon-chan."

Even though I knew it was reckless.

"And besides, you’re honestly acknowledging that you’re inferior—and still desperately thinking about how you could beat her. I know from experience… that kind of opponent is the scariest."

Even though I knew victory was impossible.

"Bourbon-chan is undeniably strong. After all, she’s being trained by my trainer—she’s the most likely candidate to win this year’s Classic Triple Crown."

"But… right now, I can actually believe that Souri-chan might become one of the ones who could disrupt that."

Even though I knew I would probably lose.

"So Souri-chan should become what Silence Suzuka was to Hoshino Wilm back then."

"…Ah, of course, I don’t mean you should just wear yourself down and lose. Push Bourbon-chan to the brink, and then together with someone else defeat her—and take the sweetest first place in the end."

"It’s still hard to call it a realistic plan, but I think that’s the scenario with the best chance of winning."

And yet—

As if pushed forward by that blinding light—

To repay the person who called someone as hopeless as me her “cute junior”…

I decided to challenge the protagonist.

The strongest being of our generation.

---

"Hah… hah… ngh—!"

I run across the turf.

Move my legs.

Move them. Move them. Just keep going forward.

As a front-running Uma Musume—no, as a runaway front-runner—I race ahead of the pack.

…Or perhaps, I’m running away from her, who’s already closing in behind me.

Kyoto Racecourse. 3000 meters.

The G1 race that decides the strongest Uma Musume—the Kikuka Sho.

A race I had no business even entering.

And yet, right now—

I was running in it.

Miho no Bourbon had no weaknesses.

That was the analysis of the trainer from my team.

Despite having a sprint-oriented bloodline, she had been forged under Trainer Horino and possessed tremendous stamina.

And of course, everything besides stamina was extraordinary as well—her overall specs far surpassing the other Uma Musume.

On top of that, she had mastered a lap-running style that used her physical abilities to maintain a constant pace throughout the race.

She was a front-runner worthy of being called “Hoshino Wilm’s junior”—someone with overwhelming physical ability who never faded.

And someone capable of translating those physical specs into race results with theoretically maximum efficiency.

As long as her running plan wasn’t disrupted, the only way to surpass her would be to exceed her physical abilities.

And among our generation, there wasn’t a single Uma Musume who could do that.

In other words—

She was the strongest. Almost absurdly so.

There were only two ways to defeat her.

The first, as I said, was to possess greater physical specs than Miho no Bourbon.

Impossible. Absolutely impossible.

How could anyone surpass the strength of someone raised by Trainer Horino after witnessing Hoshino Wilm up close—a protagonist among protagonists?

Ordinary Uma Musume like us don’t have protagonist privileges or outrageous cheats.

Even my own trainer said, “I can’t defeat that genius.”

I couldn’t beat Miho no Bourbon, and my trainer couldn’t beat Trainer Horino.

Defeating her through ability alone was simply impossible.

Which meant that naturally, there was only one other option left.

…Break Miho no Bourbon’s running.

Her lap-running style—perfectly utilizing her stamina—would collapse if she lost her composure.

Anyone who had watched her races or practice races knew that.

So I would make it happen.

I would run ahead of Miho no Bourbon and force her to focus intensely on me—forcing her to overcommit.

Disrupt her rhythm. Break her run. Defeat her.

That was the only way.

It was the worst possible move.

Not just because it insulted Miho no Bourbon’s running—

But because my stamina wasn’t as great as hers.

If I ran from the start just to stay ahead of her…

…I wouldn’t last 3000 meters.

This was a suicidal run.

A strategy that didn’t even assume I could win.

From the perspective of her fans, it would look unforgivable.

But after discussing it with my trainer, this was the conclusion we reached.

For Souri Cross—another front-running Uma Musume—the best strategy to defeat Miho no Bourbon was to run away even from the front-runners themselves.

A full-on runaway.

Any other strategy gave a zero percent chance of victory.

I would simply be crushed by Miho no Bourbon’s overwhelming power.

I didn’t have the strength, the soul, or the destiny to overcome that head-on.

But this way—

If Miho no Bourbon’s rhythm collapsed…

If various elements aligned…

If I performed beyond my usual ability, and the others failed to—

Then maybe…

One percent.

A faint one-percent chance of victory might appear.

So I chose this path.

The choice to throw the race into chaos.

The fate of turning Miho no Bourbon, the other Uma Musume, and all their fans—

Into my enemies.

And now…

I deeply regretted it.

What victory chances?

What winning probability?

There’s no way a run like this could possibly last!

"Hah—kh—hah!"

I can’t breathe.

I can’t inhale, can’t exhale. It hurts. I’ve forgotten how to breathe.

My legs won’t move. They hurt. They’re tearing apart.

They’re not like sticks—no.

They’re still legs, but every time they hit the ground, a searing pain burns through my brain.

This…

…This isn’t a run a normal Uma Musume can do.

A runaway.

A style that outruns even the front-runners themselves, blasting far ahead of the pack.

The outrageous tactic used by Silence Suzuka and Hoshino Wilm.

Why do people say long distances are too long for Silence Suzuka?

Why is Hoshino Wilm called so abnormal?

Now—only now—I could feel it myself.

Three thousand meters.

Charging in a runaway while climbing the steep slopes of Kyoto’s course twice.

This isn’t something an ordinary Uma Musume can do.

Only someone truly, truly chosen—

Only a single shining star—

Only the protagonist is allowed to run like this.

Running 3000 meters at this pace?

Impossible.

Which is why I had to preserve the lead I’d built… even if just a little.

Just keep going forward. Just keep going.

Even though I know that—

"Midway through the race on the backstretch! Souri Cross still leads, but her stride may be starting to fade! The gap between her and second-place Miho no Bourbon is slowly shrinking!"

"And still about one length behind in third are Shabaranke and Rice Shower, with Shabaranke slightly ahead! About one length behind them is Matikane Tanhauser! And three to four lengths behind that, the pack is tightly clustered!"

"All eyes remain on the battle for the lead! Will the dream of the Triple Crown be within reach? With 1200 meters remaining, the Yodo slope stands in their way!"

The second Yodo slope rising before me—

That wall was far too high.

My legs won’t move.

I’m trying to make them go forward, but they’re numb and trembling, and I can’t control them properly.

And in that moment—

The runners behind me…

Miho no Bourbon. Rice Shower. Matikane Tanhauser.

The protagonists are closing in.

The real protagonists—nothing like a mob character like me—are coming to defeat me.

I’m going to lose.

The obvious outcome.

Of course I would lose after running like this.

I can feel my stamina running out.

Even though there are still 600 meters left.

Even though the race hasn’t even entered the final straight yet.

…My defeat.

That unavoidable fate was closing in.

"Now climbing the long uphill and heading into the third corner’s downhill! Perhaps that gradient proved too steep—the gap between the two leaders and the pack is steadily shrinking! The distance to the front group is about half a length!"

"And with 600 meters remaining, the final corner! Miho no Bourbon makes her move here—she’s closing the gap with Souri Cross! And charging from the outside, Shabaranke surges forward!"

"Is this the end of Souri Cross’s lead? As if declaring the games are over, the chestnut-colored super express bursts into the lead!!"

"They exit the final corner and enter the home stretch! Miho no Bourbon now leads by just over a length! As if daring anyone to challenge her from anywhere!!"

It felt as though a powerful gust of wind blew straight through me.

That happened the moment she—Miho no Bourbon—passed me.

Ah.

I’ve been overtaken.

Unbelievable.

Even ignoring the reckless pace I set at the start, she ran nearly the same speed as me over this entire distance…

And yet Miho no Bourbon still hadn’t slowed down.

She had climbed the Yodo slope and still had the strength to keep running.

…Ah, just like last year’s Kikuka Sho.

Just like that person who ran all 3000 meters, accelerated in the final stage, and escaped from the race maker.

She truly was—

At this very moment—

The protagonist chosen by the world.

"400 meters remaining! Rice Shower—Rice Shower is attacking!!"

"Local Stream is moving too! And Matikane Tanhauser surges forward all at once! The outcome of this race is still completely unknown!!"

Then, around me, another domain spread out.

Dark. Black. Sharp… the domain of an assassin.

Ah… I see.

Rice Shower.

She too, chasing after Miho no Bourbon, was another chosen protagonist.

The junior of Nice Nature, who once ran in the Kikuka Sho and competed for supremacy with Hoshino Wilm.

As if following that same fate, she was now chasing Miho no Bourbon.

That honed domain was focused on a single point—Miho no Bourbon.

A refined killing intent, forged solely to pierce through her and overtake her.

Feeling that domain, I realized something.

This Kikuka Sho… in the end, it might truly become a battle between those two.

Miho no Bourbon running ahead.

Rice Shower chasing behind.

Just like a reenactment of last year, two runners guided by fate deciding the victor.

That might be what this year’s Kikuka Sho really was.

There was no place for me there.

It wasn’t a realm where a mob like Souri Cross could step.

So naturally, inevitably—I lose.

The wall called fate easily casts aside a mob like me.

I’m not “special” like Miho no Bourbon or Rice Shower.

There’s no way I could endure a run like this.

Without being able to do anything, I’d simply collapse in defeat.

I’d drag Miho no Bourbon down, throw the race tempo into chaos, leave behind nothing but a bitter scar… and accomplish nothing.

Maybe that was my destiny.

…But.

But I—

Is that really okay?

After all those words said to me.

After everything that was done for me.

After Hoshino Wilm herself even remembered my name.

Is it really okay for me to end like this?

I know there’s no other ending.

Souri Cross has already reached her limit.

A mere mob Uma Musume can’t keep resisting girls like them forever.

My stamina is gone. I don’t even have enough strength left to finish this straight.

The arrow has already lost its momentum to air resistance and is falling toward the ground.

I’ll fade like this and lose.

And I don’t have the strength to avoid it.

So I can’t win.

I can’t beat Miho no Bourbon. I can’t beat Rice Shower.

After all—

Mobs exist to make the protagonists shine.

That’s their only purpose.

And I’m one of them.

An unnamed figure without even a name.

Just a speck of stardust in the darkness, invisible to human eyes, existing only to highlight the brilliance of the stars.

I know that… painfully well.

…And yet.

"Yeah, do your best… Souri Cross-chan. I’m watching you."

There was someone who remembered the name of an Uma Musume as ordinary as Souri Cross.

Someone who called me “Souri-chan” and believed in me.

It’s true that I’m just an unnamed Uma Musume whose name most people will never know.

But to that person—

To the one who called my name—

I must have been a named Uma Musume worth remembering.

…I can’t end like this.

For the coolest, most wonderful, strongest senior who believed in someone like me.

And… for myself as well.

So that someone who’s nothing more than a mob—

Can still accomplish something.

I pick up the arrow that was about to fall and nock it once more.

Just once more.

Even if it’s only a little.

Drawing out every last thing left inside me.

If my fate truly has a wall called “limit”—

Then I’ll pierce it with this arrow!!

"Even I… can—!!!"

Leaving those words—and the feelings that couldn’t become words—behind me, I grit my teeth.

My legs, which had already lost all proper sensation, slammed against the ground with enough force that it felt like they might break.

I can’t use a domain.

That trump card—my soul’s power—was already spent.

The power of an Uma Musume’s soul won’t carry me to victory.

So from here on—

This isn’t the guidance of some nameless fate.

This is the struggle—

of Souri Cross.

For a moment—

Rice Shower, already ahead of me, turned her gaze toward me.

It was probably to grasp my position and deal with it appropriately…

A strangely considerate action that didn’t quite feel like her.

But the hostility there—almost like killing intent—was real.

For an instant, it nearly made me flinch.

But—

Once an arrow is loosed, it does not stop.

My legs had already left even my own will behind, continuing forward.

My lungs.

My legs.

My head.

My whole body hurt.

It felt as if something was telling me—

that this was the limit of Souri Cross.

That this crushing defeat was inevitable.

"────!!"

And that frustration only drove the arrow forward even harder.

No other Uma Musume even entered my sight anymore.

The roar of the crowd, the commentators’ voices—everything felt distant.

I couldn’t even remember why I was running… or why I was enduring this pain.

All that remained was a single, pure emotion.

…I want to win.

Against her. Against them.

Those Uma Musume who were stronger than anyone, cooler than anyone, more special than anyone.

The heroines—surely loved by the whole world.

And me. Someone like me.

An Uma Musume who isn’t strong, who’s nothing but uncool, nothing special at all.

Someone who, for most people, could never become anyone—someone who might only end up as nothing more than an obstacle.

Even so—

I want to win.

I want to win and prove it.

That even I… even Souri Cross…

can become someone.

That we can become someone’s hero!!

"—Ugh… aaAAAAAAAH!!"

---

…In the end.

What was it I wanted to do…?

I stare up at the perfectly clear blue sky above Kyoto and wonder.

My most recent memories are gone.

I pushed myself that far… no, maybe I was simply starved of oxygen.

I drove myself harder than I ever had before. So hard I thought my legs might snap… though maybe that’s a bit too ominous a thought.

Still—whatever the case.

I tried. I tried and tried and tried.

There’s nothing left in me now. I squeezed out everything—down to the very bottom of my soul, the deepest core of my body.

That’s why… I can’t remember anything between the end of the race and collapsing here.

…Well.

Even after giving it everything, I still couldn’t win.

"Fourth… place, huh…"

Just speaking the words makes me cough miserably.

Even bending forward slightly from the coughing hurts. I’m that completely exhausted.

But even so—

I keep talking.

"Still… so far… away…"

The last thing I remember is the backs of the three runners ahead of me.

Even the farthest one… must have been about five lengths ahead.

After doing all that—after giving everything I had—and still not winning.

Those girls really are incredible protagonists after all.

No matter how far I go, I guess I’m just a background character.

I slowly raise a hand toward the blue sky.

The sun glittered like a dazzling star—perfectly round, as if it could fit right into my palm.

And yet… it was impossibly far away.

Ah… my eyes and hands feel like they might burn.

The wings of Icarus. The fate of arrogance.

An arrow drawn toward that blinding light leaps into the sky—only to fall pitifully back to earth.

…But I knew that already.

There was no way I could finish a race running like that.

Everyone knew it. Me, my trainer… everyone.

The defeat of Souri Cross.

And… her victory as well.

"Too bright… Bourbon…-chan…"

The one who ran far ahead of me—faster than anyone—was Miho no Bourbon.

After clashing her own world with the dulled domain of Rice Shower, she sharpened her precision even further…

And never allowed the gap of just over a length to close, running through to the very end.

That was the last thing I remember.

I close my eyes while my shoulders rise and fall with heavy breaths, thinking that maybe I couldn’t pull off a second miracle like Nedirika.

Back at the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe, Nedirika—who hadn’t drawn much attention—defeated the Hero Princess and snatched second place.

I wondered if I might manage something like that too… even if I didn’t win, at least leaving a result behind.

But it’s hard to say I did.

After all… I finished fourth.

…Well, maybe I managed at least a small jab.

Souri Cross didn’t come from poverty, but she wasn’t born into some famous bloodline either. Just the daughter of a perfectly ordinary racing Uma Musume.

So in a way, you could call this a pretty great performance.

In the prestigious Kikuka Sho, not only making the results board—but finishing fourth.

You could say I’m the fourth-strongest long-distance runner in this generation in Japan.

If I go back to school, everyone in my class will probably make a huge fuss.

Fourth place behind Miho no Bourbon, Rice Shower, and Machikane Tannhauser—

"Nice one, Souri!"

…Yeah right.

"...Haah, damn it."

I wanted to win.

Not fourth. Not third. Not second.

First.

I wanted to beat those protagonists—those strong, cool, special protagonists.

In this Kikuka Sho, the race I prepared for more thoroughly than anything else… the race where I declared my intentions to Wilm-senpai.

I wanted to defeat Miho no Bourbon, the successor to Hoshino Wilm.

It’s not just you.

I’m her junior too. I’m part of the next generation of front-running Uma Musume as well.

That’s what I wanted to declare.

"I… wanted… to win…"

"Yeah."

I never expected someone to answer my muttering.

When I opened my eyes—

Standing there beneath the sun was a dark silhouette, her expression hidden by the backlight.

A dark bay Uma Musume.

The runner-up of this Kikuka Sho.

"...You were amazing, Souri-san. Rice… couldn’t take her eyes off you."

I didn’t answer.

Or rather—I couldn’t.

Rice Shower had run the full 3000 meters and was only lightly catching her breath.

Meanwhile, I’d poured out absolutely everything from the bottom of my soul.

Of course I can’t even speak properly.

Muttering to myself is one thing, but listening to her words, understanding them, and answering properly… that’s a bit much right now.

Maybe she understood that.

Because she kept talking, almost as if speaking to herself.

"Rice prepared for this Kikuka Sho for a long time too. I kept looking only at Bourbon-san… chasing her, determined to surpass her today."

"…But I couldn’t ignore you either, Souri-san. You’re just like Rice."

"Like… you?"

I rasped.

Rice Shower nodded in the shade.

"I admire my big sister… Hoshino Wilm. I keep shouting that I’m her true junior."

"That feeling… that resolve… that determination…"

"Rice understands it painfully well."

We’re alike.

Rice Shower seemed to smile.

Then she looked up.

…And for the first time, I could see her expression through the halo of sunlight that had hidden it.

"...I couldn’t catch her."

Watching Miho no Bourbon responding to the cheers of the crowd—

A single tear ran down her cheek.

"Next time, let’s win."

"...Huh?"

I couldn’t help letting out a stunned sound.

Rice Shower continued, tears still falling.

"We lost the Kikuka Sho. But if Bourbon-san keeps running… then someday we’ll get another chance to race her. Maybe even race your big sister again."

"So… let’s win next time, Souri-san."

That was—

A possibility I had unconsciously given up on.

I had prepared more than ever before. Trained harder than ever. Planned everything I could.

And at last I reached the Kikuka Sho.

If I couldn’t win here—on the battlefield most unfavorable for Miho no Bourbon—then surely I’d never win again.

That’s what I believed.

That’s why I bet everything on this one race.

…And why I had already given up, thinking there would never be another chance.

Even though this Kikuka Sho was probably Rice Shower’s best chance too.

Yet she hadn’t given up even a fragment of hope.

And somehow…

That was incredibly cool.

That kind of thing—that’s exactly what makes someone a protagonist.

This girl would probably keep standing back up and challenging the world no matter how many times she failed, all in pursuit of her ideal self.

A true hero.

And thinking that—

That’s exactly why—

"Next time… Souri Cross will win!"

I thrust my fist into the air, putting on the bravest front I could manage.

Declaring that I’m a protagonist too.

The sun at the end of my raised fist was just as hot as ever.

But… this heat—

For a body and heart still flushed from the race—

might be just right.