Chapter 108: The Counterattack
Barely twenty seconds had passed since the start of the Satsuki Sho, yet the contest on the track had already twisted and turned in dramatic fashion.
First came the explosive launch from the gates, followed by an unbroken chain of position battles.
Then came the uphill clash between Kitasan Black, Clear Sky, and Azreta—before Kitasan Black broke free to take the lead.
And finally, Clear Sky's furious chase and overtake.
Such a fierce struggle for the front made the overall pace of the race visibly faster, and the field stretched out dramatically.
By the time Clear Sky charged along the straight into the first corner, the Umamusume at the very back had only just reached the middle of the stretch.
The commentator and the crowd were electrified by the intensity, but standing opposite the straight, Makoto had already cooled down from his earlier excitement.
"Did Clear Sky change her running style…?"
The live broadcast and the roar of the crowd were deafening, yet the Umamusumes beside him still caught his muttered words.
Daiwa Scarlet reacted first.
"Change her style… Are you saying Clear Sky's never run as a front runner before? No wonder—her breathing, her stride changes, and her pacing, none of it looks like someone used to front running."
From Special Week's phone came the thoughtful voice of Silence Suzuka:
"Mm… and this pace is too fast for a true front runner. If it were me, I'd only push this hard after entering mid-race."
"But if she's fighting this hard… it's not exactly good news for Kita-chan."
Arms crossed, Tokai Teio frowned deeply. "If Kita-chan gets dragged into her pace carelessly, her mid-race rhythm and stamina management could collapse."
"Will she… really be okay?"
Every Umamusume's eyes turned toward Makoto.
Teio's concern wasn't unfounded. She herself had once fallen victim to something similar.
Of only three races in her career where she failed to take first place, one was the Tenno Sho (Autumn)—a race lost due to the blistering pace set by front runners.
But Makoto wasn't worried that Kitasan Black would fall into the same trap.
His Umamusume was naturally strong at front running, and more importantly, the situation unfolding now was entirely within his expectations.
Unlike Azreta, Clear Sky had never shown herself to be a front runner. She had always run in the pace chasing or late surging styles.
Her closest brush with the front was in her previous race, the Yayoi Sho. Yet even there, her passing order had been 4–4–4–4—a textbook example of a pace chasing's run.
For a Umamusume like her to suddenly change her running style—it could only be either her trainer's orders, or a spur-of-the-moment decision born of nerves.
Changing one's running style carried risk, but it could also disrupt her rivals' plans and steal victory through surprise.
But either way, a lack of front running training and experience was certain. And that was a huge advantage for Kitasan Black.
Most importantly—Kitasan's special preparations for the Satsuki Sho had included tactics precisely for this scenario.
And before Makoto could explain that to Tokai Teio and the others, sudden changes erupted on the track.
…
Her gaze locked firmly ahead, Kitasan Black caught every detail: the way sweat gathered on the back of Clear Sky's neck, scattering like tiny prisms of light under the sun; the looming entrance to the corner drawing closer and closer. Her nerves pulled taut as she analyzed in an instant.
When Clear Sky passed her, she had felt a pang of shock she couldn't suppress—but quickly forced herself calm.
That desperate acceleration on the straight had indeed been something she hadn't foreseen.
But a battle for the lead was something her Trainer had spoken to her about before the race.
She had faced this kind of situation before. In past races she had clashed with rivals like this, and more importantly, she had trained countless times alongside her senpai in the very same way.
Since that was the case, all she had to do was follow instructions and keep running as she'd trained. There was definitely still a chance to strike back.
'Not yet… hold on… it's not the time yet…'
Repeating the warning to herself, she kept her eyes locked dead ahead. Suddenly, Kitasan Black's gaze lit up.
Grass clippings and dirt flew toward her face, the raw earthy scent lingering in her nose.
Her flattened ears echoed with layered roars against the eardrum.
The roar of waves—
The pounding of hooves before and behind her—
The howl of the wind—
And, the instant the curve of the corner revealed itself ahead, the thundering beat inside her chest.
Thump… thump… thump…
Thump, thump, thump…
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Now!
First stage!
Just as her heartbeat threatened to leap out of her throat, the girl unclenched her jaw. Her breathing rhythm and stride changed all at once.
The instant the curve appeared, her right foot drove forward, wedging perfectly into a fresh divot of torn turf.
From her legs to her hips, from her chest to her arms—the built-up energy released in a single burst.
Using the centrifugal force of the corner, she tilted her body slightly left, letting the wind resistance split along the curve of her figure before streaming back together behind her.
Her stride, polished to precision through endless practice, now revealed itself. The new sprinting steps crushed down on the shallow pits left by her rival's hooves just moments before.
It all happened in the blink of an eye. With only the very first step of her gradient acceleration, Kitasan Black felt her fingertips brush against strands of hair drifting on the wind from the rival just beside her.
Perhaps her peripheral vision caught a flash of the other girl's shocked expression—but she paid it no mind.
Gradient acceleration had to remain continuous. Without that, it meant nothing.
Eyes locked ahead, she kept straining her body under complete control.
And then—Second stage!
The moment they entered the middle of the corner, Kitasan Black almost swore she heard a buzzing wave of gasps from the stands.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught her rival's body drifting outward under the centrifugal force. In that instant, she tightened her shoulders and, like a marlin breaking the ocean's surface, cut into the opening along the inside rail.
Grass exploded behind her in a spray of green froth. Heat prickled across her temple, a damp trickle seeping down. From brow to cheekbone, it burned like sunlight striking directly against her skin.
The headwind she had felt pressing against her side since entering the corner—without her noticing—was now left behind.
Finally—Third stage!
At the corner's end, where it joined the straight, the girl's jawline tensed sharply. Just like before entering the corner, she clenched her teeth tight. With every ounce of explosive strength in her body, she thundered into the stretch.
It took over a second before her senses returned to clarity.
Three or four lengths behind, the pounding hooves were already faltering with staggered notes.
Farther back, others were still stuck battling the corner's centrifugal drag.
Farther still, the announcer's voice and the crowd's cheers were bursting into a frenzy.
"Overtake! Overtake! Kitasan Black has taken back the lead!" The commentator nearly broke his voice in excitement:
"She's absolutely refusing to give in! After being passed by Clear Sky in the opening, Kitasan Black has struck back with a beautiful move on the corner!"
"She's taken the lead again!"
"It's a four-length lead!"
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