Chapter 76: The Arima Kinen Lineup Is Way Too Stacked

The field for the Arima Kinen is finally set.

Gate 1, No. 1: Machikane Fukukitaru
Gate 1, No. 2: Grass Wonder
Gate 2, No. 3: Seiun Sky
Gate 2, No. 4: Air Groove
Gate 3, No. 5: Jewel Zircon
Gate 3, No. 6: Happy Meek
Gate 4, No. 7: Ribbon Finale
Gate 4, No. 8: Mejiro Bright
Gate 5, No. 9: Breeze Airship
Gate 5, No. 10: Revival Lyric
Gate 6, No. 11: Rapid Builder
Gate 6, No. 12: Little Flower
Gate 7, No. 13: Apollo Rainbow
Gate 7, No. 14: Mejiro Dober
Gate 8, No. 15: Joyeus
Gate 8, No. 16: Destinate

El Condor Pasa isn’t here—she’s resting up for next year’s European campaign. Silence Suzuka is prepping for her American tour. Special Week, having already raced three times this fall (Kobe Shimbun Hai, Kikuka Sho, Japan Cup), is also taking a break. King Halo is temporarily stepping back to retool for sprint-focused training.

Happy Meek, after bouncing between dirt races and the Tiara circuit, has chosen to enter the Arima Kinen. The Tokyo Daishoten was an option, but she apparently opted for this instead.

Griko had initially planned to run in the Grand Prix after the Mile Championship, but distance compatibility forced her to reluctantly withdraw. She ranked high in fan voting, but alas—her best range is sprinting, and she’s no Daitaku Helios, a miler who could stretch his limits. Nakayama’s 2500m tends to favor mid-distance or stamina-heavy runners, but a sprinter in the Arima? That’d be less a race and more a disaster.

With the lineup finalized, it’s back to training as usual. Guriko volunteered as my pace partner today, so while I’m grateful for her help, I’m also testing recovery skills during our runs.

I keep her slightly behind me, letting her push me with sprints until she’s satisfied. Per her trainer’s instructions, she’s also applying constant pressure, meaning I’m dealing with debuffs the whole time.

I’ve learned to deflect Griko’s grown-up intimidation with deep breaths—though I can’t help but worry about the speed drop during those moments. Being a sprinter, she’s always on the verge of overtaking me the second I inhale.

After a few days, I’ve mastered the timing: decelerate → deep breath. The momentary slowdown preserves stamina, effectively extending my full-speed endurance. That said, whether this skill is viable for the Arima’s 2500m is… questionable. If anything, I’ll probably have stamina to spare, so this feels more like groundwork for next year’s overseas campaign.

A 2500m G1 is probably unique to Japan. Mentally, it’s no different from the Derby—I’ll need a finishing kick at full throttle. While Japan classifies it as "long-distance," my true forte is ultra-long (3000m+). I can handle 2500m, but this distance leans more on late-race explosiveness than endless stamina, which makes me uneasy.

Worse, Nakayama’s 2500m starts with an immediate turn, favoring inside posts. I drew the cursed No. 13 outer gate—this’ll be rough. Luck’s a fickle thing, but having Seiun Sky and Air Groove on the inside is especially bad. Air Groove, the so-called "Empress," dominates with relentless consistency. She’s the type to manipulate pace while radiating pressure.

…And what if—just hypothetically—every single one of them targets me? Even I’d burn out and finish off the board. Air Groove’s Illusory Disturbance, Seiun’s Trick, Fukukitaru’s Magician, Mejiro Dober’s Omnidirectional Glare, Mejiro Bright’s Stamina Greed, Meek’s Will of Steel (??), Grass’s Monopolize—or something equally terrifying—all aimed at me? Yeah, no way I’m surviving that unscathed.

If it comes to that, I might have to rely on my still-developing deep breath technique for this awkward 2500m. …I should ask Tomio later. For now, I shiver and push through the brutal pace training of Tomio alongside Guriko.

"Alright, that’s enough! Good work, both of you."

Tomio’s voice snaps me out of it. I collapse onto the ground, gasping, staring blankly at the crimson sky. The cold earth bites into my back as I lie there, utterly spent. Of course I’m exhausted—this is Tomio’s training, after all.

A glance at Guriko confirms she’s worse off—drenched in sweat, groaning. Keeping up with my full-speed runs is hell for a sprinter like her. Tomio’s a demon to all the trainers’ girls.

Will her trainer get mad at us? I wonder, rising after a stamina-restoring breath. Guriko, with no recovery skills, won’t be moving anytime soon.

"So? How’d it go?"

"I’d say the deep breath is practically mastered. Well done."

"Obviously!"

"Now, about who to mark in the Arima… Honestly, too many threats. What’s your take?"

"Hmm… The Satsuki Sho left such an impression. I can’t help but fixate on Seiun."

"Makes sense. I’m more worried about Air Groove, Happy Meek, or Mejiro Bright… but yeah, Seiun Sky on the inside brings back bad memories."

Tomio nods, typing rapidly. Our final training will likely focus on countering Seiun Sky. She’s smart—the way she outthought me in the Satsuki Sho still haunts my dreams. Relying on Tomio’s strategies against her is reassuring, but with this field, ignoring the others is risky. Still… she’s not someone you beat by playing safe.

"Oh, right. What if I’m the one getting marked?"

"Ignore it."

"There’s a limit to that. I mean, what if every other girl targets me?"

"…All of them?"

"Yeah. I am the Derby-Kikuka Sho dual classic winner. Plus, I barely edged out Double Trigger in the Stayers Stakes. They’d be fools not to watch me."

"…………I completely overlooked that possibility. Of course. You’re the top threat. But if that many elite mares mark you… it’ll be brutal."

Tomio waves me over, pulling up race footage on his laptop—clips of the very horses I’m wary of.

"Say the Mejiro duo marks you."

The screen shows Mejiro Bright and Mejiro Dober’s races. First, Dober’s Queen Elizabeth II Cup: in the final stretch, mares near her suddenly straighten up, glancing around—panicked faces, ragged breathing. They fade, then collapse from exhaustion post-finish.

"That’s Dober’s Unsettling Gaze. Expose a horse to her stare, and they’ll waver, burning extra stamina. Hers is… unique. The range is absurd. I’ve met her—that piercing glare? Honed through daily life."

...The latter half of the info doesn’t matter much, but the fact that Ran Shino’s technique isn’t distance-dependent is seriously bad news. Up until now, I’ve relied on running far ahead to escape pressure, so just getting caught in Dober’s line of sight alone would rattle me hard.

"And though I don’t know the specifics of the technique... Mejiro Bright also uses a long-range 'stamina-draining' skill. I can’t explain it in detail, but it’s like she saps the stamina of the horses in front of her and converts it into her own."

Next, I watch Bright’s races. Her specialty is long-distance, and in most of her races, the frontrunners end up completely spent. That’s due to her mid-race stamina absorption—no doubt she exerts an overwhelming presence on the horses ahead.

"So, if both Mejiro sisters mark you... You get what I’m saying, right?"

"...Yeah. Even just these two would be a nightmare."

"Exactly. Even just these two."

If Mejiro Dober’s all-encompassing glare and Mejiro Bright’s stamina greed were both aimed at me... I’d rather not think about it.

Only now do I realize it—the terror of being the top favorite in the Arima Kinen predictions. The sheer brutality of the Ran Shino techniques my rivals wield.

I can’t afford to run purely defensively. Their debuffs are part of what makes them champions. I need to study their race footage more, to truly grasp why even graded-winning horse girls crumble against them.

"...I see."

...Horse girls have distance aptitudes—say, "1600m to 2400m"—but even those with such ranges can technically run up to around 2800m. Winning aside, you need at least "your limit + 400m" worth of stamina to handle unexpected situations.

Yet, the moment the Mejiro sisters apply pressure, countless horse girls hit stamina failure right before the finish. What this means is—their sheer intimidation cuts the effective runnable distance by roughly 400m.

...So, if both Mejiro Bright and Mejiro Dober mark me, I’d have to mentally prepare to run 2500m + 800m... effectively 3300m. If I estimate the penalty at 500m, that’s 3500m—almost the same as the Stayers Stakes.

Individually, they’re not quite on Double Trigger’s level of pressure, but in the worst-case scenario, the horror surpasses even the Stayers Stakes.

If I assume 15 debuffs stacked on me, then the absolute worst-case would be—2500 + (500 × 15) = 10,000 meters. I’d need the resolve to run a 10k... Yeah, no. Is this a triathlon?!

Tomio once (forcibly) trained my stamina by saying, "There’s an 8000m flat race in China, apparently! Mejiro Ardan’s relative won it! You’d wanna try it too, right, Apollo?!" But even that leaves me 1500m short. No amount of deep breathing would save me.

...Well, not everyone has debuff skills, so that’s a relief. Realistically, it’d be the six I mentioned earlier—Seiun Sky, Air Groove, Mejiro Bright, Mejiro Dober, Grass Wonder, and Machikane Fukukitaru—whose pressure I’d face. Getting marked and debuffed by all 15? Nah.

Still, 2500 + (6 × 500) = 5500m. I’d have to run the Arima Kinen like it’s a 5500m race. I wanna scream "You’ve gotta be kidding me!" Please don’t let it be a heavy track that day...

"Long-distance is scary as hell, huh?"

Guriko, now recovered from her stamina crash, chimes in. Her face is all curiosity, but her vibe screams "I’d never wanna run that insane race." I mostly agree.

"But long-distance is super fun! Even if getting marked feels like hell."

"That’s terrifying... In sprint-mile races, if you’ve got time to pressure others, you should focus on your own acceleration instead! Totally different mindset."

"Honestly, the shorter distances sound way harder to me."

"Same. It’s like not even the grass on the other side looks greener."

As we laugh dryly, Tomiou clears his throat pointedly.

"Keep winning, and every horse girl becomes your enemy. But thanks to Apollo’s runaway style, you can counter it to some degree. I’ll explain more in tomorrow’s final meeting. For today, wrap up training and rest properly."

"Got it!"

"Good work! Apollo-chan, let’s head back together!"

"Yeah!"

And so, Guriko and I return to our rooms together—

—completely unaware that the chestnut monster, Grass Wonder, is watching me from beyond the track.

After finishing my homework, chatting idly with Guriko, and checking UmaStar, I lay down and dozed off in bed. That’s when I got a notification from my chat app.

I tapped the banner reflexively, opening the app to find a new unread message in my family group chat.

"Apollo, your dad and I are going to watch the Arima Kinen in person too."

That message from Mom made me feel a little suffocated. To be honest, she’d been saying for a while, "I really want to see at least the Derby in person," or, "If nothing else, the Kikuka-sho." But work always got in the way, and it never happened. I’d felt lonely because of that. And while part of me had hoped they could come see a race, the idea of them actually showing up was kind of... embarrassing.

Suddenly flustered, I replied with something a bit cold. Instantly: “Read 2.”

"You’d probably see it more clearly on TV or the livestream."

"That might be true, but I really want to see you giving it your all with my own eyes."

"Your dad and I already got our plane tickets. We're excited! (^^)"

"Don’t say anything weird to my trainer, okay?!"

"We know, we know."

"(o´・ω-)b"

"That emoji is gross."

"(´；ω；｀) Pien."

"You’re so outdated!"

I threw my UmaPhone aside and buried my face in the pillow. The notifications wouldn’t stop, so I held down the power button to silence it.

...Honestly, I was happy. Ever since coming to Tracen, I hadn't gone back home once—just training, day in and day out. I had friends and a trainer, so I was never bored, but sometimes I’d get lost in thought.

I hadn’t really gotten homesick, partly because I channeled all those feelings of wanting to be spoiled by my parents into my trainer. But now that I was finally going to see them again, that bottled-up loneliness and anticipation were starting to bubble over.

They were always sending messages in the group chat, like "It’s so quiet around the house," or "We miss you," and honestly, those hit me pretty hard. It’s embarrassing to say it to their faces, but I love Mom and Dad, so seeing those words always tugged at my heart.

I wonder if Mom’s still the same. Has Dad gained weight? Just thinking about them made me smile without even realizing it.

...Well, Mom’s a horsegirl, so she’s probably fine, but can Dad really handle seeing my racing outfit in person? What if he flips out like, "Who the hell gave my daughter a midriff-baring wedding dress to race in?!"

...Oh, right. Before the Hopeful Stakes, I sent them a photo of me in the outfit, and he totally freaked out. I thought he’d be used to that kind of thing since he’s a local trainer, but apparently seeing his own daughter in something that bold was a whole different story—he was happy, but it was complicated.

I giggled quietly, wagging my tail.

Yeah, I should ask Tomio to reserve the special seats at Nakayama Racecourse. Arima Kinen's supposed to be the most attended race in Japan. If they end up in the general seating, they probably won’t be able to see anything.

With those thoughts still spinning in my head, I drifted off to sleep, my consciousness melting into deep darkness.

The Arima Kinen is about to begin.