There had been no snowfall lately, and the sun had been bright and warm enough since it had risen this morning. But even so, the morning was still cold. It wasn't as frigid as it had been at dawn, where even the hard-packed dirt of the training track had felt too firm to run on, but it was cold enough to make me miss home. At least it was rarely this cold in my hometown..
Accompanied by the gentle, trickling sound of falling water, I glanced around the rather quiet academy grounds. The majority of the students seemed to have gone home for the last few days of the winter vacation. I only saw a few dozen students roaming around, a stark contrast to the usual thousands. In such silence, my hands sought refuge in the two palm warmers tucked inside my parka's pockets as I waited for the person who had one-sidedly decided we would be going out today. In the end, we had decided to make a rendezvous here instead of her picking me up from my dorm.
After a while, I took out my phone and saw that it was already 9:02. I hadn't expected her to be late. As I turned off the display, the reflection of the big statue behind me flashed across the dark screen. I turned back and decided to inspect it closely. Since I had first entered the academy, I had passed by and looked at this statue countless times, but this would be the first time I'd actually taken the time to examine it.
I glanced up and down, taking in the massive, stone figures. There were many interpretations of the Three Goddesses. Some had detailed, individual descriptions of each goddess, but most, like this statue, kept them vague, not conforming to any specific characteristics. I wasn't a zealot or overly devout, so I didn't know much about the theological aspects of why they had been made like this. Though I had once read that one of the reasons was so that each individual could shape and define the goddesses for themselves, giving them more comfortable and appealing options in their spiritual lives. It also showed the openness and the divine nature of the goddesses, a nature that wasn't restricted by worldly characteristics.
As I thought of that, my sights were suddenly disturbed. A hand was waving in my peripheral vision, distracting my focus from the statue. I turned my head in the direction the hand had come from. It was, of course, King Halo, dressed in a stylish green and black dress under a thick winter coat. While my own outfit was also green, it was a forest camo green... anyway. Thank the Three Goddesses I hadn't gone too deep into my thoughts.
"Sigh. Sorry I was late," King said as she approached. "But looking at you staring at the statue with such focus made me think you were in the middle of a prayer."
"I wasn't," I said with a shrug. "I was just curious about it."
"I see. Let's go, then," she said, walking ahead and leading the way towards the main gate and the bus stop. For someone like her, I had thought she would insist on taking a taxi. But I kept my mouth shut. It was better this way than if we had gone by taxi and had to split the bill.
"Anyway, gratitude for accompanying me," I said as we waited for the bus to arrive. "I hadn't planned for this, though."
"You're right. You should be grateful," she said, her tone suddenly turning serious. "Maintaining a public image is a critical part of our duty. Let me ask you this: imagine a rival, who defeats you, acts nonchalant, as if the race you just poured your entire being into was meaningless to her."
"It would make the loss even more bitter," I admitted, the thought coiling unpleasantly in my stomach.
"Exactly," she affirmed, her voice sharp and clear. "That is why the conduct of a winner is a responsibility. It is our way of showing respect to the defeated. When a champion carries herself with the absolute dignity of a victor, the ones who lost can hold their heads high, knowing they were beaten by the very best. Their effort was worthy of a true champion's response."
She paused, her crimson eyes locking onto mine. "But you must never, ever mistake dignity for pity. A strong demeanor is dignity. An apology for winning is pity. Standing proud is dignity. Passivity is pity. I would far rather be defeated by a winner who boasts of her triumph than one who offers me her condolences. In short," she declared, her voice ringing with a conviction that felt absolute, "you must show them, beyond any doubt, that you deserved to win."
"And you believe a beautiful style and a fine outfit are part of that?" I asked, connecting her philosophy to the reason for our current outing.
"Of course," she nodded, her expression unwavering. "You must be better than the others in every aspect. In your appearance, in your demeanor, in your strength, and in your skill. So when someone loses to you, she is able to accept her loss with pride, because she was overcome by undeniable, first-rate excellence."
"Alright," I said flatly, my own logic following hers. "I wouldn't want King to be a sore loser when she is defeated by me."
"What a loud noise from someone who was a sore loser herself," she retorted, the words sharp and venomous, but her gaze was laced with a strange sort of concern. "I still remember your pathetic state in that locker room. Don't you ever show me that face again."
Her words hit me, but not in the way she might have intended. She was serious. She didn't show a shred of pity. Even back then, looking at my miserable state, she hadn't offered any compassionate words like, 'you can try again next time.' That could have been interpreted as pity. Instead, she had told me I would be a disgrace to the track with my irresolute attitude. I really had been a sore loser that day. She had just commented on my hesitation, and I had lashed out at her, unloading all of my own insecurities.
But after hearing what she had just said, I finally understood. She wasn't just telling me about the attitude of a winner. She was telling me about herself, about her beliefs, about what it meant to be "first-rate." Even though I aimed to be her greatest rival, it was clear that there were many things I didn't know about her.
"I promise," I said, the words coming out quiet but firm.
"Another promise from you," she said ceremoniously, "and this King will not ever forget it." There was no trace of her usual haughtiness in her voice, only a profound seriousness.
Still, her beliefs were valid in their own right. There might be some questionable aspects, things that could become problematic if they went too far, like disrespect or arrogance. But she must have already known where that limit was. Proud and mighty, but not disrespectful nor arrogant. That was King Halo's "first-rate" attitude.
It was then that the bus she had intended to ride arrived with a soft hiss of its brakes. We boarded and found a pair of empty seats. Our bus ride was quiet and uneventful. Beside us, a baby Umamusume was sleeping soundly in her mother's carrier. She reminded me of Just-chan, of when she had first arrived at our family. I had just been a toddler back then myself, but I could still remember it as if it were yesterday. Just-chan had been the first Umamusume I had ever met, after all.
Finally, after about half an hour, we got off at a bus stop in a neighboring district and began to walk along the sidewalk.
"Your turn," she said directly.
I glanced at her. She was serious. I guessed this really was a give-and-take. But what did she want to know? I didn't have or follow any grand philosophy like hers.
"What do you want to hear?" I asked.
"Your goal from the start," she replied, her gaze fixed forward. "Why you came here, to Central Tracen."
I let out a soft sigh, my eyes scanning our surroundings as I thought about the answer. This was the first time I'd come to this district, but it wasn't that different from Fuchu, I guessed, though perhaps a bit more crowded. As we walked, I opened my mouth.
"Frankly," I began, my voice quiet, "at the beginning, I was just thinking that if I could enter the Twinkle Series and get good placements, I could send more money back home and as a bonus, I could even see the best Umamusume up close."
As if recounting something nostalgic, I smiled weakly as I continued, "But since I arrived here... I've felt content. My life at the academy is objectively better than it was at the orphanage. I don't need to worry about tomorrow's breakfast, or about the water and electricity bills. Hell, I can eat as much as I want and take a warm bath every single day here. It made me... try to reach outward. To be a bit greedy, you might say. It made me want more than just looking closer at the best; I want to become one of them. It made me want more than just good placements; I want to win. But there was someone named King Halo in my class. She was an overly confident prodigy who always won our class's mock races, while I was always swallowed up on the final stretch. It made me frustrated, and without me even noticing, I had lost confidence in myself. It was like that until the first day of the selection races arrived, and I met her in a locker room—"
"Alright, I know what happens next," she interrupted, a pleased, self-satisfied smile spreading across her face. "That first-rate Umamusume then would trigger a sore loser to finally face the reality that this loser was still weak and had to do more if this loser ever wanted to win against her. Ohohoho~ what a noble Umamusume she was." My right eyebrow twitched in contrast, but it was good if she could be less tense. Her mood was getting better.
"Sure," I said flatly, and continued, "You could say that becoming King Halo's greatest rival is my first real goal as an Umamusume on the track. And it was thanks to that haughty, big-headed ojou-sama triggering me that I was able to move forward and not get stuck mulling over my own anxieties."
"This King will not give you anything, even if you praise her, you know?" she said, though the smile couldn't be concealed. "But I am glad to see how far you've come, Little Monster-san. The stronger you are, the greater the recognition for defeating you."
"I am still weak now," I said, "but I will get stronger and faster soon enough." But suddenly—
"Nonsense," she cut me down, her voice sharp as glass.
"What?" I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to face her.
"What a nonsense," she repeated, her expression severe. "Self-deprecation is a form of pity. To me, it only sounds like utter nonsense or just polite modesty. But you must also think about the ones who have lost to you. If you are 'weak,' then what are they? Please, be careful with your words. For someone whose facade is built on choosing her words very carefully, that is a strategic blunder." She delivered the entire critique without stopping, ending it with a sharp, definitive sigh.
"Ugh... fine," I sighed back.
"Great. Any other goals?" she asked, slowing her pace to walk beside me again. "You said your promise to this King was your first goal."
"It's my trainer's goal, and mine as well," I explained. "To win the Grand Prix."
"Oh, right," she mused. "The one who won the Arima Kinen with Oguri Cap-san was Trainer Musaka, wasn't it? Trainer Kitahara and Oguri Cap-san have such good chemistry, I had thought they had been together for a long time."
"I mean, it was Trainer Kitahara who found Oguri-san in Kasamatsu," I clarified. "How about you? Any specific race targets?"
"The Undefeated Triple Crown is the only goal suitable for this King!" she declared, her voice ringing with absolute certainty.
"It's so obvious I regret asking," I sighed.
"Yeah, yeah. Anymore?" she asked, her gaze sharp.
"It'll become the most obvious intelligence-gathering operation if you really push this far, King," I said, a dry smile on my lips.
"Sure. Just as you said. Quick, tell me," she replied flatly, not even bothering to deny it.
"It's for my family back home," I said, my tone softening as I thought of them. "Especially one child who is like my own sister. She's an Umamusume, like us. She wants.. or rather, demands.. a tribute to see me often on TV."
"Family, huh?" Her voice was quiet for a moment. Then, "Anyway, who's this sister?"
"Justaway. Or Just-chan," I said.
"Ohohohoho!" Her haughty laugh returned. "Then she must have been very happy to see you on TV as the third-place dancer on our Winning Live."
"Negative," I said, shrugging her off. "Rather than focus on the Winning Live and watching a brash, ostentatious ojou-sama in the center of the stage, she was more angry at me because I still lost, even though I ran like that."
"No wonder. You're such a brute. You have no elegance," she sneered, but then she stopped her steps, her expression turning thoughtful. "Oh, right. This is out of context, but... do you know anything about the US Twinkle Series?"
"That is certainly a sudden topic change," I remarked. "But if it's about the US theater, I have to mention the Big Red, Secretariat-sama herself, right? And Sunday Silence-sama in the URA Board of Directors. But other than that, I don't know much. I've only really followed the national Twinkle Series. So, maybe Taiki Shuttle-san? And in our generation, there are Grass Wonder and El Condor Pasa." Such a sudden question forced me to answer swiftly, pulling from the limited knowledge I had. The internet hadn't been stable back home, and the local library had only a few overseas Racing History books, so most of what I knew had come from the TV that lacked overseas channels. And since I've arrived here, I had been so busy with my junior career and training. Hmm, should I check it later?
At my answer, she just nodded slowly as her shoulders loosening slightly. "Alright," she said, her tone shifting back to business. "We're here."
She gestured ahead. "I know the head designer in this place. Rather than buying and adjusting a ready-made dress, it's better for you to design one from scratch. Doing so, you can adjust the budget, and they'll give you a discounted price because you've come here with me," she explained as she walked up to the entrance of one of the high-end establishments. I had never heard of the brand, but the elegant, minimalist storefront was screaming "expensive." The soft chime of the bell as King opened the door sounded less like a welcome and more like a cash register to me.
I quickly rechecked my bank balance on my phone. I mentally ran down my necessities for the month, set aside a portion for my emergency fund, and decided on the absolute maximum budget I would spend here.
"What are you waiting for!?" King called out from the now-open doorway, one hand on her hip.
"Yes, Ma'am! I'm on my way!" I said back, dragging my heavy feet towards the bright, white interior of the building. This was going to be a long day.