Chapter 27: The Young Colt's Unease

January, 4th Week – Kyoto RacecourseHaving arrived at the venue the day before the race, we stayed at a hotel to rest and prepare for the Wakaba Stakes. And now, the first race of the new year was about to begin.

Do not dismiss the Wakaba Stakes as just an open-class race—countless racehorses who triumphed here went on to achieve greatness. Legends like Tōkai Teiō, Hakutai Sei, and Deep Impact all graced this event. It’s a stepping stone to glory, a crucial test to gauge one’s readiness for the Classic races.

Race 9 – The Wakaba Stakes, starting in the early afternoon. I arrived at the waiting room in the morning, quickly changed into my track suit, and threw on a jersey to keep warm. Late January was the heart of winter, and it was freezing outside. I did some light stretches to keep my body limber, making sure I’d be ready to move at any moment.

The Wakaba Stakes has a full gate of 16, but today only seven runners would take part. Some might call it a sparse field, but apparently, this race rarely sees more than ten participants. So, the number wasn’t something to worry about. Here’s the lineup:

Gate 1, No. 1 – Brown Mont Blanc (2nd favorite)Gate 2, No. 2 – Power Charger (3rd favorite)Gate 3, No. 3 – Agile Talent (7th favorite)Gate 4, No. 4 – Enchufla (6th favorite)Gate 5, No. 5 – Jewel Neflight (5th favorite)Gate 6, No. 6 – Apollo Rainbow (1st favorite)Gate 7, No. 7 – Destinate (4th favorite)

I had everyone’s strategies and traits memorized. The one to watch most closely was Brown Mont Blanc, the second favorite, with a record of two wins and two second-place finishes in her four races so far. Her strategy was front-running, and her ideal distance ranged from mile to middle-distance. One thing that stood out was how often her UmaSta posts screamed "APOLLO RAINBOW IS FAIR GAME!!" (typo included). She’d definitely prepared extensively for me.

Next was Destinate, the fourth favorite, whose races always ended in either first place or dead last—no in-between. Her all-or-nothing style, where her devastating late kick either struck true or whiffed completely, had already earned her a cult following. Five races, two wins. Her strategy was closing, and her distance preference was likely middle to long. In her victories—maiden and one-win class races—she dominated by five lengths or more, but in races where the distance was under a mile or her timing was off, she always finished last. Extreme types like her were tricky for anyone to handle.

I downed a light jelly snack and sipped some tea to wet my throat. It was almost time for the staff to fetch us. I did a few jumps on the spot, then started spinning in place.

"The paddock introductions should be starting soon."

"Yeah. The staff should be—ah, here they come."

Right as he said that, there was a knock at the door. We headed to the Kyoto Racecourse paddock.

The venue was moderately crowded, with about half the audience of the Hopeful Stakes. Today also happened to be the day of the G2 American Jockey Club Cup at Nakayama Racecourse, so many spectators might’ve come for the live viewing. As usual, most were probably just here to casually watch our Wakaba Stakes—

But whatever. I stepped into the paddock, ready to give my all to the challenge ahead.

"[Gate 1, No. 1 – Brown Mont Blanc, second favorite!][She’s consistently placed in the top two, always securing a good position early. Among this generation, no other horse girl matches her level of consistency.]"

The horse girl with cream-colored chestnut hair cut short—Brown Mont Blanc—smiled softly. Though her UmaSta posts were full of bold declarations, her appearance was nothing but gentle.

Her tail and mane gleamed under the sunlight, and beneath that smile burned a fierce fighting spirit. Every now and then, she’d glance my way and wave gracefully, like a refined young lady. Just how badly do you want me to notice you? I thought, waving back anyway.

Then, it was my turn. I entered Kyoto Racecourse’s distinctive circular paddock for my introduction. With a bright smile, I waved to the crowd, showing off my excellent condition. My body felt surprisingly light—almost like it could handle anything I threw at it.

"[Gate 6, No. 6 – Apollo Rainbow, first favorite!][She’s fired up! With a third-place finish in the Hopeful Stakes under her belt, it’s no surprise she’s the top pick.]"

After my introduction, I skipped over to Tomio’s side. My trainer let out a relieved smile. "Glad the adjustments worked out."

He’d been worried about my form declining after the long preparations for the G1 Hopeful Stakes, the junior division’s major goal. But he’d managed to steer me back on track, perfectly timing my peak for the Wakaba Stakes.

I flashed him a V-sign, then waited for the others’ introductions.

"[Gate 7, No. 7 – Destinate, fourth favorite!][A horse girl known for either dominating or bombing—her extreme racing style has won her quite the fanbase. This year’s generation is packed with unique and talented runners!]"

A spirited black-coated horse girl with long hair spun her fists in the air, hyping up the crowd. Destinate—a bundle of unpredictability. Ignoring her trainer’s scolding, she climbed onto the fence, shouting something to rile up the spectators.

There really are all kinds of horse girls… I thought as I paced around the paddock. Tomio and I quietly discussed whether we needed to adjust our marking strategy based on the other racers’ conditions. No major changes—Brown Mont Blanc remained our primary mark. If she showed any unsettling moves that could threaten the top spots, we’d switch to Destinate.

"Listen. Destinate’s the scary one if she pops off. Ideally, she’d self-destruct on her own, but we don’t have enough data to be sure. So if she starts surging at the fourth corner, we switch marks.""Got i—"

Mid-conversation—my right leg suddenly buckled.

"Apollo?!"

Tomio shouted. Just before my knee hit the ground, he caught me by the waist. His yell drew the attention of the other racers and their trainers. Even some spectators noticed the commotion, their eyes turning toward us.

"What happened?! Are you hurt?!"

"I—It's not an injury, it's something... weird—"

My right calf was spasming. True, I’d felt a tiny, fleeting discomfort in my leg earlier today—like a grain of rice briefly stuck in my throat. It vanished within seconds, and afterward, there’d been no issues.

Admitting something that minor to Tomio would’ve taken courage. I felt like a kid scared of getting scolded. But now? Fear of the unknown and this sudden abnormality had me trembling. I deeply regretted not speaking up. Yet—there’d been a reason I couldn’t.

My right leg felt distant. A hazy pressure, a numb discomfort, coiled around my calf. I tugged his sleeve, showing him my trembling leg.

"W-What is this? What do I—?""—I’m checking it."

Under the crowd’s gaze, Tomio began his examination. By now, everyone was staring. Some with simple curiosity, others—especially the sharper observers and fellow horse girls—with the kind of look that said they’d just witnessed something very, very bad.

"[Oh?—Apollo Rainbow seems to be in distress! Some kind of commotion!]""[Let’s hope it’s nothing serious.]"

As someone who’d read medical books on horse girls, I had a few guesses about this symptom. But knowing and experiencing were worlds apart. Was this life-threatening? A minor hiccup? I had no clue.

"Hey, hey... Apollo-chan, you okay?"

"Don’t tell me... Apollo-chan, you—"

Destinate and Brown Mont Blanc approached as I sat slumped in the paddock. I could only mutter "I don’t know" before bowing my head.

"Momozawa Trainer, a moment?"

Brown Mont Blanc swept her bangs aside and knelt beside Tomio, who was removing my shoe and sock. He kept his eyes on my leg but engaged in a clipped exchange with her.

"What is it? We’re in a time-sensitive situation here."

"My parents’ influence gave me some expertise in sports medicine. I might know the reason behind Apollo-chan’s... condition."

"Seriously?"

"I’ve no reason to lie. Though my knowledge may pale next to yours—"

"No, it’s fine. More input’s always better. Alright, Brown Mont Blanc, come here."

"Understood. I’ll have my trainer take a look as well."

"...Appreciate it."

Now barefoot, I was surrounded by Tomio, a furrow-browed Destinate and her trainer, Brown Mont Blanc, and hers. Destinate squeezed my shoulder. "Hey, it’s prolly nothin’ serious. You’ll be fine."

Somehow, things were escalating without my input. The murmurs from the crowd swelled—yet sounded impossibly distant. Would the Wakaba Stakes scratch me? Or worse... could this mean never racing again?

Worst-case scenarios flooded my mind. A surge of raw emotion threatened to burst out as negativity spiraled, warping my vision. Tears wouldn’t stop.

Yet everyone around me stayed ice-cold. Tomio’s hands moved methodically during his examination, while Brown Mont Blanc and her trainer conferred. The only words I caught were "not a fracture" and "not tendonitis either." At least it wasn’t the absolute worst-case. A sliver of relief.

But my calf hurt when pressed. Tearfully, I told them so, sparking another round of debate. The man called Matsuo Trainer—Brown’s coach—studied my leg with narrowed eyes.

After a tense silence, Matsuo turned to Tomio and Brown Mont Blanc, then spoke.

"Momozawa-san, Apollo-san. This looks like kozumi."

—Kozumi. The colloquial term for muscle inflammation or soreness in horse girls. Mild cases only hurt when pressed, but severe ones disrupt gait and running form. Was this why my movements had felt off?

"...Yeah. No doubt about it."

Tomio gritted his teeth and nodded. I exhaled in shaky relief. Mild kozumi usually improves with pre-race warm-ups. But then Matsuo voiced the lurking doubt:

"Still, this is concerning. Sudden spasms strong enough to collapse you? Even if it’s the cold, that level of cramping isn’t normal."

Exactly—this wasn’t typical kozumi. The symptoms aligned, but something felt wrong. Tearfully, I looked up at them. Destinate and Brown Mont Blanc rubbed my back, steadying me.

Matsuo Trainer stroked his chin and muttered to Tomio:

"Momozawa-san... I hear your training’s quite intense."

"……Yes. I’ve been pushing Apollo through high-intensity training."

"Rest periods… you have been giving her those, right? Of course. You prioritize horse girls’ safety above all. My apologies—forget I mentioned it."

Though I couldn’t grasp the full meaning behind Matsuo Trainer’s words, the two trainers seemed to understand each other. Tomio shook his head with a pained expression, his voice strained as he replied:

"…No. The physiology of horse girls isn’t fully understood yet. The fatigue from my training regimen must not have fully dissipated. Chronic exhaustion chose now to manifest."

"…………"

"…Apollo. We’re scratching you from this race."

"Huh?!"

Destinate let out a shrill cry. "W-Wait! I’ve been prepping specifically to beat Apollo-chan!!" Her trainer hastily clamped a hand over her mouth.

Brown Mont Blanc hung her head, wearing an indescribably complex expression—somewhere between resignation and bitter disappointment.

I, too, was torn between understanding and refusal.

"W-Wait! If this is just kozumi, then some stretches and warm-ups should fix it!"

Exactly—kozumi was essentially muscle soreness. Proper pre-race warm-ups usually alleviated it. But Tomio didn’t budge.

"No. I won’t allow it. Your health comes first. With kozumi plus symptoms we can’t explain… racing now isn’t wise."

"But if I withdraw from the Wakaba Stakes—!"

—Withdrawing would drastically lower my chances of entering the Yayoi Sho. Prize money-wise, failing to perform (or win) here might exclude me altogether. In other words, the Yayoi Sho—and by extension, the Satsuki Sho and Japanese Derby—were practically contingent on this race.

Mentally, I was in peak condition. Could I push beyond that? Honestly, I wanted to race, consequences be damned. To surrender to this burning competitive fury, even risk my leg, for victory.

I locked eyes with Tomio. His onyx gaze held mine. After a flicker of hesitation, his brow furrowed, his face twisting in near-tearful anguish as he gripped my shoulders.

"—You’re destined to be the strongest stayer! This isn’t the time to force yourself…!"

"…But after all this training, not racing is…"

I glanced at Destinate and Brown Mont Blanc supporting me. Destinate’s eyes were wet; Brown Mont Blanc stared skyward, jaw clenched.

Their conflicted reactions said it all—pushing through discomfort or prioritizing safety was no simple choice.

"Then… how about this? A trial run. If the discomfort lingers, I withdraw. If it’s completely gone, I race full throttle. …Deal?"

"…………"

Tomio’s glare could’ve drilled holes through me. He was worried—I knew that. But more than anything, I couldn’t waste the time and effort we’d poured into this race. I needed him to see me win.

Was I the unreasonable one? Or was he right?

For a long moment, we stared each other down like rivals.

Then—he looked away, defeated.

"…Matsuo-san. Could you inform the JRA officials? Prepare for the worst. I’ll arrange a stretcher and med team."

"Understood. Okuda-san, handle the race delay announcement."

"R-Right. Best not keep everyone waiting."

Destinate’s trainer—Okuda—nodded, and the two hurried off toward the staff area.

Tomio’s grip on my shoulders tightened.

"…Apollo. I’m sorry…"

"Why apologize? I’m the one being stubborn."

"…………"

"…I’ll be fine. You trained Apollo Rainbow, after all—I’ll come back in one piece."

Tomio never looked up. He couldn’t meet my eyes.