Chapter 22: Toward Next Year

『――GOOOOAL!! What a spectacular finish!! The winner of this year's final race is――KING HALO!! Emerging victorious from the three-way showdown as Junior Division Champion――KING HALO!!』

――A nose difference. The gap between me and King Halo was that heartbreakingly slim.

Months—no, even longer—spent dedicated to this race. Pushing myself to the limit until I felt like coughing up blood. And it all came down to... mere centimeters.

No bitterness welled up. Just sheer disbelief, unable to process reality.

Slowing to a stop, I nearly collapsed against the inner fence as deafening cheers filled Nakayama Racecourse. The electronic board lit up:

Time: 2:00.81st: King Halo2nd: Special Week3rd: Apollo Rainbow

Every result showed photo-finish margins. A numb, weightless sensation spread through my body.――I even lost to Special Week? After thinking I'd left her behind. Is this her true potential?

Gasping for air, nearly suffocating—just as I was about to crumple to the ground, a hand steadied my shoulder. Green racing silks—King Halo.

"...King-chan."

"Apollo-san, are you okay?"

"Yeah... somehow."

Her silks were drenched in sweat and mud from the snow-churned heavy track. Glossy hair clung to her forehead and cheeks, her refined face smeared with dirt.

She'd taken every clod of mud we'd kicked up head-on and still charged through. Nothing but respect for that grit.

"Congrats on first, King-chan. Never thought you'd close that gap from way back there..."

Leaning on her shoulder, I managed a weak smile. A total defeat today. Even if I'd marked King-chan, the result wouldn't change. If Special Week had marked me instead, we'd likely have seen a similar outcome.

Talking to her ignited searing frustration—yet also the catharsis of having given my all. Humiliation, regret, and above it all, a pure, swelling desire: "I want to race again."

Yes, I want to fight more. With King-chan and Spe-chan here, I can grow even stronger. I brushed dirt from King-chan's face and smoothed her hair. She squirmed slightly but met my gaze with fiery intensity.

"...I only won because of you."

"Eh... me?"

"Never looking anywhere but forward. Staying true to yourself. That's how I conquered this grueling race."

Spe-chan came running up, her expression flickering with faint frustration but dominated by the same exhilaration I felt.

"King-chan, congratulations!"

"Special Week-san... I'm shocked you pushed Apollo-san to set the early pace!"

"Your closing speed shocked me too! Ugh, gotta train harder..."

"King-chan, isn't your winner's circle interview starting? Everyone's waiting!"

"O-oh no! Sorry you two, see you at the victory celebration!"

King-chan released me to Spe-chan and sprinted toward the winner's circle.

Facing Spe-chan now. Her eyes burned with undying competitive fire.

"King-chan was incredible."

"...We were so busy marking each other, we forgot about her closing speed..."

We exchanged brief banter. I pulled away from her shoulder, showing I could walk alone. Time to prepare for the victory celebration.

Glancing toward the winner's circle, the crowd erupted—probably reacting to King-chan's speech. Spe-chan's gaze drifted there too before she started walking toward the exit.

"Apollo-chan... let's do this again."

"...Obviously. I'll never lose to you or King-chan again."

After watching Spe-chan leave, I headed to the preparation room after a pause. My knees trembled, making walking difficult, but no injuries or fractures—just finishing a G1 race intact was an achievement.

Yet—I placed third. Lost to Special Week whom I'd been marking, and had to abandon marking King Halo who stole first.

Frustrating, but it's done. All I can do is bite my lip and admit their strength. I'll analyze every mistake and apply it to next year's classics. Our junior division races are over. Our classic era has already begun.

First priority—countering Spe-chan's marking pressure. Her aggressive marking destroyed my pace, making me sprint recklessly with disastrous timing for 2000 meters.

At this rate, I can't compete with everyone who'll improve next year. Need to consult my trainer immediately about countermeasures.

Lost in these thoughts, I reached the preparation room. My trainer's presence emanated from within.

Without hesitation, I opened the door. There was her back—Tomio.

"...Trainer, I'm sorry. I lost."

"Apollo……"

I hunched my shoulders as I spoke to him. I never wanted to deliver a loss report. Tomio slowly closed the distance between us.

Of course, he’d never underestimate me. But the fact that he was being careful with me—that stung like a knife twisting in my chest. When he finally stood right in front of me, I squeezed my eyes shut.

"—I’m just… glad you came back safe, Apollo."

Still in his suit, he pulled me into a firm embrace, mud, sweat, and all. Right—no matter the result, he’d always accept me gently. And that’s exactly why this was dangerous. If I kept soaking in this kindness, I’d grow weak. I couldn’t afford to indulge.

I tried to pull away, but his grip was stronger than I expected. Trapped with his arms locked around my back, I looked up at him in protest.

"—!"

He was crying. Tilting his head up, shoulders trembling to keep the tears from falling.

I understood why. But seeing him grieve more than I did left me conflicted. We couldn’t afford to just wallow. We had to take what we’d learned from this race and push harder in training.

Just as I was about to say that, his tearful voice reached me from above.

"You… ran a hell of a race. Held your ground in that brutal pace. Just the fact that you came out of that insane speed unharmed—I… I…"

I didn’t fully grasp what he meant. But clearly, he’d been far more worried than I’d realized. The words I’d prepared vanished from my mind, and I went limp in his arms, surrendering to the moment.

Eventually, satisfied, he let me go. A faint loneliness lingered, but I cleared my throat and forced my usual composure back into place.

"You were kinda crushing me, you know.""S-sorry…"

Now that we’d separated, I could see his suit was stained. A glance in the mirror showed my own reflection—my once-pristine white silks now caked in mud, proof of just how fierce that race had been.

…Right. If anything, I should be proud. I’d forced a blistering pace and still clung to third. I’d stayed on the board in a 2000-meter G1, a distance that didn’t suit me. For now, that’s enough.

"...Tomio. Next year, we’re winning.""Yeah."

In the victory celebration, I yielded the center stage to King-chan and danced in the third position. As we performed "ENDLESS DREAM!!!", I flashed the roaring crowd a genuine smile.

The thrill of competition, the bitterness of defeat—this Hopeful Stakes had taught me both.

Apollo Rainbow’s junior division record: 5 races, 2 wins. Main victory: the Shigiku Sho (1-win class).

Still far from the strongest stayer.But the potential was there.All I had to do was keep running with my trainer.

As the celebration ended with smiles, my heart swelled with hope for the future.

The Hopeful Stakes had barely begun when Trainer Momozawa nearly let out a scream. Apollo Rainbow's pace was dangerously fast. Leaning against the fence, he found himself practically biting into the race.

The reason was obvious - Special Week had come to mark Apollo Rainbow. Their mutual marking had spiraled into this runaway pace.

The announcer's stunned voice reported the time: 56.1 seconds for the first 1000 meters. A mind-boggling time - more fitting for a sprint race than this.

At this point, the words "race withdrawal" flashed through the trainer's mind. This destructive pace, set by the ever-eager Apollo Rainbow, could break someone. That was his greatest fear.

"P-please... just don't let anyone get hurt, God...!"

Faster pace meant greater strain on their legs. For horse girls mid-race, maintaining objectivity was difficult. Their burning competitive spirit might lead to reckless thoughts like "I'll win even if it breaks my legs."

Apollo, if you feel anything wrong, stop - The trainer raised his megaphone to shout, but simultaneously, a madman's thought surfaced: "I want to see this insane race through to the end."

He immediately despised himself for that flicker of thought. Yet perhaps this desire to witness limits being broken was universal among racing professionals.

Clenching his fist, Momozawa wrestled with these conflicting emotions. As a trainer, he should only pray for Apollo Rainbow's safety. But he couldn't deny his hunger to witness the race she was creating. His thoughts were in complete disarray.

The trainer stared at Apollo Rainbow as if praying. She was clearly pushing too hard. Leading at this pace, she could injure herself any moment. This wasn't the nervous tension of a photo finish - this was pure dread consuming Trainer Momozawa.

But as he watched her exit the third turn toward the fourth, he noticed something even more abnormal.

"W-why—"

Why wasn't her pace dropping? With trembling hands, Momozawa checked his stopwatch: 1:31 at 1600 meters. A madman's clock. Nearing the 1600m record time - no, possibly surpassing it. His shaking wouldn't stop. Watching her accelerate further toward the final turn, his fear for Apollo Rainbow only grew.

Because today's track was heavy as mud. The footing was terrible by default. The inside rail was so torn up it resembled a dirt track. Since Apollo and others were naturally avoiding that, they weren't running the shortest possible distance.

Yet here she was, threatening the 2000m record time. This went beyond abnormal into outright terrifying. As a trainer, he understood - no, anyone who knew racing would recognize - the abnormality of Apollo Rainbow.

"Go Apollo-chaaan!!"

"Special Week, close that gap!!"

Amidst the roaring crowd, Momozawa lost track of the race's progression. He'd assumed Apollo Rainbow only had potential to become the "strongest stayer." But witnessing this, that belief did a complete 180. Apollo Rainbow didn't just have "strongest stayer" potential - she had "strongest horse girl" potential. He became certain of it.

Watching Apollo Rainbow maintain her lead all the way to the final stretch cemented this conviction. At this point, winning hardly mattered. Well, strictly speaking it did matter - but her safe return alone would be victory enough.

『――AND THE WINNER ISSS!! What a finish!! Claiming victory in the year's final race is——King Halo!! Emerging triumphant from this three-way showdown as junior class champion——King Halo!!』

Though one had to admit, Apollo Rainbow's generation was brutally competitive. Special Week, who'd matched the insane pace to overtake Apollo for second place. King Halo, who'd endured the chaotic pace (with no pacemaker) to overtake both leaders. These too were transcendent talents with potential to become the "strongest horse girls."

And this generation also contained: the unfathomable gray frontrunner Seiun Sky; the chestnut monster Grass Wonder, called Maruzensky's second coming; and the strange bird El Condor Pasa, aiming for the world stage with matching talent.

They might not compete often, but there was also the sprint king Green Titten and the ultra-versatile Happy Meek.

Apollo Rainbow was growing by measuring herself against these rivals. Ah, who could say whether being born into this generation was fortunate or not?

The trainer stuffed his stopwatch into his pocket and gazed up at the clear blue sky.