"Here come the runners from the second bracket! We have participants from all around the school, each carrying their dream to achieve greatness on this 1000-meter sprint track!" The broadcaster's voice boomed through the track.
"Will they advance—or be disqualified?"
On the field, eight figures stood ready, stretching one final time before stepping toward their respective gates.
Among them was Urara.
She was captivated.
Standing in the open track.Being watched.Being cheered.
It felt like she was the star of the race.
Something she had never imagined for herself.
Her eyes sparkled as she spun lightly on the spot, looking around at the stands filled with people.
Then—
Her gaze locked onto two familiar faces.
Her parents.
They were on their feet, waving wildly.
"URARA! GO GET THEM! YOU CAN DO IT!"
Their voices were so loud that nearby spectators began glancing at them in surprise and revulsion.
But Urara only grinned wider.
Her tail wagged behind her.
Urara's father then suddenly grabbed the collar of a spectator beside him.
"You see that?! You see?! My daughter is on the track! Can you believe it?!"
The poor spectator gasped, startled beyond words.
"Uh—yeah? I see…?"
Urara's father, as quickly as he grabbed him, released him and turned back toward the field, cupping his hands around his mouth.
"URARA! MY LITTLE SUPERSTAR! YOU CAN DO IT!"
Urara then waved both arms wildly at them, bouncing in place as if she had just discovered treasure.
Beside her, Rush glanced toward the stands as well.
There—
She spotted her parents.
And her little brother.
They were smiling. Watching her closely. Excited—but not nearly as explosive as Urara's parents.
Rush raised her hand and gave a small wave.
Meanwhile, Rush's little brother wasn't nearly as excited.
He sat in his seat, focused on his phone, only present because their parents had brought him along.
He did peek, but mostly on his phone, and Rush realized it too before putting her hand down with a sigh.
Then, the broadcaster announced energetically,
"It seems it's that time again! Our runners are getting ready for their race! Number 3 is entering her gate—and so is number 7!"
Urara was given number 8, and Rush wore number 5.
One by one, the runners stepped into position.
Before taking her place, Rush approached Urara one last time.
"Are you ready, Urara?" she asked with a small smile.
Urara turned to her, nodding brightly.
"I can't wait!"
"Then… see you on the other side," Rush said, patting Urara's shoulder. "Because today… I will win."
With that, she turned and stepped into her gate.
Urara clenched her fists before her chest and nodded to herself.
"See ya, Rush-chan! And I will win too!"
As more participants went into the gate, the track fell silent slowly.
After a brief moment of preparation, almost all runners were in position.
Except Urara.
She was still waving wildly at her parents, completely forgetting she was, in fact, here to compete.
Until a committee member gently guided her into her gate, shaking her head while doing it.
Then, the track was settled, and each runner was positioned in their respective gates.
Eight runners.Eight stances.Eight beating hearts.
"Let's go, everyone!" Urara cheered from inside her gate.
Startling the nearby runner.
Giving her a look before turning back to the front.
Silence then followed...
Then—
"They're all in… set… AND THEY'RE OFF!" the broadcaster shouted.
*Bang.*
The gates flung open instantly.
Each runner launched forward, feet striking the track in unison, finding their pace in the opening stretch.
And the race had officially begun.
"Oh, it seems all the runners had a great start!" the broadcaster exclaimed.
"And look! Number 8 exploded from the last gate! She's showing incredible early speed and has secured first place! But is that a good strategy—or will it backfire?"
Urara had already poured everything into her start.
Without hesitation.
Without restraint.
She surged ahead, claiming the lead almost instantly.
Some might have called it a front-runner strategy.
But Rush knew better.
Urara had never been one to calculate pacing or stamina. Even if she had been taught, she rarely listened long enough to apply it.
And with her known lack of endurance—
This could end badly.
"Urara… what are you doing...?" Rush muttered under her breath, maintaining her pace behind the middle pack.
Then, at the first 200 meters...
"Into the first 200 meters, and it's Number 8 by half a length! Number 2 is pressing hard on the inside flank! Number 7 trails close behind, looking to break into second place!" the broadcast continued.
The race was accelerating. Everyone was still keeping up their pace steadily.
Then—suddenly—
Urara's speed began to...
...fade.
Unlike everyone, Urara failed to reserve her energy and expended it immediately before reaching the pivotal moment.
Her strides shortened.Her breathing grew ragged quickly.And her pace began to crumble.
"Oh! What is this?! Number 8 is slowing down! What happened to her?! This isn't looking good! Numbers 2 and 7 are catching up fast! Is this the end for Number 8?!" the broadcaster shouted.
"Urara…!" Rush saw it instantly.
"Keep it up, Urara! Don't give up yet!" she muttered under her breath.
Up ahead, Urara's chest heaved violently.
"I… I must… I must do it…" she whispered to herself, eyes trembling.
"I must win! For Mom, for Dad, for Rush-chan, FOR MARY-CHAN!"
She forced her legs to push harder.
But they wouldn't respond.
Her speed didn't rise.
It fell.
One runner passed her.
Then another.
Then another.
Within seconds, she was in last place—three lengths behind.
"Urara…!" Rush gritted her teeth.
And then—
She slowed down, too.
Matching her pace to Urara's.
The spectators began murmuring.
"Did Number 5 just slow down for Number 8?"
"What is she doing? Throwing her race?"
"This won't end well for both of them if they keep this up…"
On the track, Rush ran beside Urara.
"Urara! Urara!" she called out.
Urara's form was collapsing—steps uneven, breathing frantic, focus slipping.
In the stands, Urara's mother covered her mouth.
"Urara…"
Her father, however, kept shouting.
"URARA! YOU CAN DO IT! BEAT THEM UP!!!"
On the other side, Rush's parents also stared in confusion.
"Rush… why is she slowing down?" her mother uttered in disbelief.
Her little brother, however, didn't even look up from his phone, muttering,
"Probably running out of stamina."
"I mean, she's not meant to be a top athlete anyway. Not with that performance," he added.
"At least support your sister!" Rush's mother snapped. "She tried hard!"
Her brother sighed without looking up.
"And what? Watch her lose? Be disappointed again? I trusted her to succeed before, yet… she never did. Not now. Not ever."
"Geez…" their mother muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose, before reverting to the race, cheering for Rush.
But behind his phone, her little brother's eyes flickered upward.
Quietly.
Silently.
"Come on, big sis… run…" he cursed under his breath, "...please..."
Back on the track, most runners were already four lengths ahead.
Only Rush and Urara remained side by side at the back.
"Urara, get yourself together! We're going to win this! Remember?" Rush urged, breath heavy but steady.
Urara forced a faint smile.
"Ru… Rush-chan… go… go ahead... and… win this… please…"
Her voice trembled; she was clearly running out of stamina.
And the gap ahead grew only wider.
And the finish line began to feel impossibly far.
"Y-you… you need to…! So… so Rush-chan… can advance… into the main race…" Urara added, forcing words out of her fading breaths.
"But I can't leave you behind!" Rush shot back.
"You won't… have to… because… you know…" Urara struggled to lift her head. "I, Urara, will always… catch up to you…!"
She gave one last bright smile.
Then her pace broke further.
She dropped into the back further.
"Urara!" Rush shouted, instinctively preparing to slow down again—
But she saw it.
Urara was still running.
Still pushing.
Still shouting with everything she had left.
"Urara…" Rush muttered, fist tightening.
Urara's lips moved once more.
Rush couldn't hear it—
But she could read it.
Win… Rush-chan... Win for me... for us...!
Rush froze for half a heartbeat.
Then she turned forward.
Lowered her head.
And gritted her teeth.
A growl escaped her throat as her legs surged.
"Urara… you dummy! We were meant to reach for URA together! Not leave one of us behind!" Rush muttered through clenched teeth.
Then a memory surfaced. A voice from Urara.
"Just because I lose this time doesn't mean I'll lose next time!"
There, Rush's eyes widened slightly.
"She was right… she was right! What was I thinking?" she breathed.
"She might lose this time—but that doesn't mean she will next time!"
"So even if I win this... She will catch up! After all, she's Urara, a girl who will keep fighting even if she loses. And what excuse do I have to throw it?"
"Then... Urara, I will… I will win this!"
Her lips curved into a determined smile.
"All I need to do… is wait for you at the other side."
"Urara… I promise! I will— I WILL WIN THIS!"
With one last glance at her back, and a one last exerted smile from Urara, Rush nodded.
Her gaze sharpened as she turned forward.
Her legs responded faster.
There...
She SURGED!
"We're reaching the final 300 meters! Number 1 is currently in the lead! Number 3 is right on her neck! Behind them is Number 4, 6, and 2, who are fighting for position! Will they catch up—or will they fall short?!" the broadcaster shouted.
And from behind—
Rush was coming, surging through the pack with her might.
"Into the last 200 meters! Remember, folks! Only three runners will advance from this qualification race! It's anyone's game to secure a spot in the top three!" the broadcaster shouted.
"Will it be Numbers 1, 3, and 4? Or will someone else steal the position?!"
Up ahead, the frontrunners fought fiercely for their places.
Then—
A sharp gust tore through the track.
The runners at the back widened their eyes.
A figure surged from the outside lane with terrifying speed.
It was Rushing Sky, charging in with her glutteral roar.
"Oh! What is this?! Into the last 100 meters—Number 5 is flying from the back with ferocious speed! What a monster!"
The crowd gasped.
"Can Numbers 1, 3, and 4 still secure their top three positions before the finish line?!"
Rush's vision narrowed as the finish line loomed. Closer... and closer.
Her legs burned.
Her lungs screamed.
But she pushed.
She had to.
She must win this.
Then—
She saw it.
Number 4.
She could reach her.
She had to.
SHE MUST WIN THIS.
With every last ounce of strength, Rush drove her foot deep into the track, forcing one final burst from her legs—one last propulsion toward the podium.
With a guttural roar, she lunged forward—
Running side by side with Number 4. Both were fighting with their last ounce of strength,
SCREAMING!
BURNING!
RUNNING!
The crowd, too, burst into big cheers and applause, screaming at their names or numbers as they cheered.
"They hit the final 50—and four runners have crossed almost together!" the broadcaster shouted.
Then a brief moment of silence...
And there, Rush crossed the finish line alongside—
Number 4.
With that... The race had decided.
"As it seemed! Number 3 has stolen the victory from Number 1 by a neck! And our winner! The Number 3...! But fret not, the top 3 will be advanced to the next race! Then, Number 1 still can redeem her first place!" the broadcaster declared.
"And wait a minute! Numbers 4 and 5 crossed nearly simultaneously! Oh my god, what a performance! But... Who has taken the third spot?! Who has advanced?!"
Rush and Number 4 staggered past the line, bending forward, hands on their knees, breathing violently.
They slowly lifted their heads.
Waiting.
Then, the committees began huddling up, watching the replay from the camera. Discussing.
A moment of suffocating silence later...
As both Rush and Number 4, clutching her chest.
Anticipating.
"And It was…" The broadcaster finally spoke.
"IT WAS NUMBER 5!"
There, the crowd erupted.
"Let's congratulate Numbers 1, 3, and 5 for winning their qualification race!"
Rush stood frozen for a second.
Then reality struck.
She had done it.
She advanced.
The crowd erupted into applause.
Cheers echoed across the track.
Rush stood there, chest rising and falling heavily.
She turned toward the stands.
People were clapping.
For them.
For her.
She was breathless.
But more than that—
She was speechless.
It felt like the first time she had ever truly been cheered for.
And strangely—
She felt happy.
Genuinely happy.
Her eyes searched through the crowd until she found them.
Her parents.
Beaming.
And beside them—
Her little brother.
His phone was lowered.His mouth was slightly open.
"She... she did it...?" her brother muttered.
Staring at her in disbelief.
Rush then lifted her hand and waved.
Grinning.
Nearby, Number 4 stood stiffly, head lowered, teeth clenched.
Upon seeing that, Rush approached her and extended a hand.
"It was a nice race… wasn't it?"
Number 4 hesitated, raising her head a little, then took her hand and shook it.
"Yes…" she muttered.
But she straightened immediately after.
"I'll win next time. Just you wait, Number 5! I will win the next time we race!"
After hearing that, Rush was startled, but a smile followed, nodding.
"Okay, I will be waiting!"
With that...
One by one, the remaining runners crossed the finish line.
Number 7, Number 2, then Number 6...
...Everyone—
Except Urara.
Rush's smile immediately faded and turned to the finish line, muttering, "Urara...?"
She then stepped closer to the edge of the track, searching the far stretch.
"Urara! Where are you?!" she called, scanning the field.
Then—
A small figure appeared in the distance.
Still running.
Still pushing forward.
"Urara…?" Rush whispered, stunned.
The broadcaster's voice rose again.
"Oh?! Is that Number 8? She's still running! What a sight! A lone Umamusume pushing to the end despite losing her position!"
The crowd murmured.
"She already lost… and she's still going?"
"Incredible…"
In the stands, Urara's father cupped his hands again, though his voice was nearly gone.
"Urara!!! Cough—cough—yOu cAn Do iT!"
Her mother gently patted his back with a soft smile.
"Yes… yes, honey…"
And on the track—
Urara kept running.
Rush stood at the finish line, fists clenched, eyes trembling.
"Urara… you can... you can do it..." she whispered.
Despite losing completely, Urara had not stopped.
She wasn't running for first place anymore.
She was running for herself.For everyone.
"The finish… line… it's… right there…" Urara muttered, vision blurred, steps uneven, breath tearing through her lungs.
Then—
Through her haze, she saw a figure at the finish line.
Standing.
Shouting.
"URARA! YOU CAN DO IT! YOU CAN DO IT!"
"Is… is that… Rush-chan…?" Urara breathed, a faint smile forming.
Her fist tightened.
I must cross it.
I must go to Rush-chan.
She's waiting for me.
Everyone is waiting for me.
With one final guttural roar, Urara drove her foot into the soil one last time, summoning the last fragment of strength within her.
She must do it.
She must finish it.
She must.
SHE MUST!
Not when her parents were watching!
Not when people were watching!
Not when Rush was watching...
Maybe Mary, too.
As such, she must cross it, she must finish it! She must...!
She then burst forward.
Mud scattered.
Sweat flung.
Cheers rang out.
And then—
She burst into a sprint, a one last desperate, determined sprint.
"I..." she uttered,
"Urara, will..."
"will..."
"Will finish it...!" she declared as she closed in.
There, she blinked, and the figure in front of her, Rush, was getting clearer...
and clearer...
and clearer...
and...
...Before she knew...
She crossed it.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Rush stood and immediately flung her arms wide open.
As Urara collapsed straight into Rush's embrace, holding Rush's before her.
"Rus… Rush-chan…" Urara whispered weakly, still catching her breath."Di… did… did you win…?"
Rush then tightened her hold, pressing her face into Urara's shoulder.
"Yes… Urara… Yes, we won…"
And so... their race had officially ended. Where cheers cried, people watched.
But most importantly... they both crossed it... they both crossed their finish line...
...Together...
...
...
On the side of the track, Mary had watched everything.
The surge.The fall.The embrace at the end.
Her gaze lingered for only a second longer.
Then she turned away, smiling.
And walked off to prepare for her own race.