Chapter 116.
Down by the barricades near the finish line, Trainer Kuronuma stared blankly at the turf.
Three lengths.
The gap Rice Shower had violently torn open was so glaringly absolute that Kuronuma couldn't even delude himself into thinking this was just a bad dream.
Is the disparity truly that massive?
The thought struck Kuronuma the moment his cognitive functions rebooted.
Over a long-distance track, is the gap between Bourbon and Rice Shower really this insurmountable? Or... was my entire training philosophy fundamentally flawed?
Between those two possibilities, Kuronuma was desperate to believe... NO.
He didn't want to believe either of them.
How could my regimen be flawed? The Spartan system is absolute. And how could Bourbon possibly...
His face contorted into a mask of pure, suffocating agony.
Back in the spring, Trainer Kuronuma had managed to feign composure, lightly glossing over the failure at the Japanese Derby. But here, at the Kikuka Sho, the crushing reality of that three-length gap offered no avenue of retreat. Those two brutal possibilities lay before him, and he would be forced to choose one to explain Mihono Bourbon's catastrophic performance in today's battle to determine the 'Strongest of the Generation.'
He couldn't run.
The press pool had already caught the scent of blood in the water. For the sports journalists of the Twinkle Series, prying open a fresh wound wasn't just a job; it was a professional calling.
Standing frozen in the restricted zone, Kuronuma finally understood that today, there were no shadows left to hide in.
High up in the stands, Shuta An smiled and offered a gentle wave as Rice Shower crossed the finish line.
As the roaring cheers washed over him, his gaze naturally drifted down to the turf, locking onto Trainer Kuronuma.
He caught the exact moment the older man's expression crumbled into despair. Understanding the crushing weight bearing down on his rival perfectly, the young Trainer merely shook his head with a quiet sigh.
He was genuinely curious to see how Kuronuma would navigate the media firing squad waiting for them.
Will he swallow his pride and take the blame himself? Or will he push the responsibility onto Mihono Bourbon's stamina?
Shuta mused.
If their positions were reversed, Shuta would absorb the impact without a second thought. But he knew Kuronuma operated under a vastly different psychological burden.
He prides himself entirely on his mechanized, Spartan training methods. If he takes the blame, it's tantamount to publicly confessing that his entire philosophy is defective. For a man with his ego, that kind of humiliation would be agonizing to bear.
But if Kuronuma blamed Mihono Bourbon's innate limits, he would inadvertently admit that all his ruthless training hadn't actually changed her fundamental ceiling—a conclusion that was equally devastating to his pride.
It really makes you wonder what kind of answer he's going to give the press.
However, before he could sit back and watch Kuronuma's public execution, Shuta had far more important duties to attend to.
He instructed Kurofune and Admire Vega to head back to the private Box first. Then, slipping away from the roaring crowd, he made his way alone to the mouth of the underground passage, waiting to receive his victorious champion.
Out on the track, Rice Shower had initially planned to trot over and exchange a few polite pleasantries with Mihono Bourbon. But catching sight of Bourbon's profoundly distraught, motionless figure, the Black Deer Uma Musume hesitated.
Approaching her right now—it would just feel like I'm gloating and stepping on her pride.
Rice thought softly.
Abandoning the idea of a post-race chat, Rice turned and cantered alone toward the grandstands.
By this time, Shuta was already navigating the corridors toward the underground exit, but Kurofune and Admire Vega were still lingering near the VIP rail.
Spotting her two juniors immediately, Rice deduced exactly where her 'Onii-sama' had gone to wait for her.
She offered the two younger girls a bright, affirming nod. Then, turning her gaze up toward the towering, packed grandstands, she raised her right arm, holding up two index fingers in a shy but triumphant pose.
While Mihono Bourbon had entered the gates as the overwhelming favorite, it was Rice Shower—the little assassin who had shattered the Triple Crown dream—who was now being bathed in cheers that were infinitely more deafening than her reception at the Derby.
"STRONGEST OF THE GENERATION!"
"RICE SHOWER!"
"YOU DID IT, RICE!"
"CARRY ON THE GLORY OF SADALSUUD!"
The chaotic, thunderous wave of adoration poured over Rice Shower. For once, there were no boos. She simply offered the crowd a brilliant, blooming smile and waved happily toward the sea of fans.
Next up is the showdown with Teio-senpai at Nakayama Racecourse.
Rice pondered, her tactical mind already shifting to the future as she walked toward the underground tunnel.
The 2500-meter track at Nakayama is brutal. It demands both explosive acceleration and raw hill-climbing power. Teio-senpai has already proven she owns that course. My hill-climbing stamina isn't weak; but I still can't match Teio-senpai when it comes to pure, explosive speed. I need to talk to Onii-sama later; our next training block definitely needs to focus on burst acceleration.
As she descended into the quiet dimness of the underground passage, a familiar silhouette finally entered her line of sight.
The young man was standing with his back to her, looking down the tunnel to receive the newly crowned Kikuka Sho champion.
"Onii-sama!"
Rice practically sprinted the last few strides. She launched herself forward, throwing her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly from behind.
"I did it!"
"Because you're Rice Shower, of course you did."
Shuta turned, looking down at the Black Deer Uma Musume with an incredibly gentle, proud smile.
"Your performance out there today was flawless. When the Spring Tenno Sho rolls around next year, Rice is definitely going to be the overwhelming favorite."
"But that's all the way in the Spring Tenno Sho—"
Rice mumbled, lowering her gaze slightly, her ears drooping a fraction.
"For the Arima Kinen— my popularity still can't compare to Teio-senpai's."
"Teio has a massive legacy; high popularity is inevitable for her."
Shuta chuckled, turning fully to embrace Rice, gently patting her back.
"But listen to me, Rice. You've already proven, without a shadow of a doubt, that you are the absolute peak of your generation. Next, it's time to step up and challenge the seniors."
"McQueen-senpai—"
Rice murmured, immediately thinking of the elegant Uma Musume who had secured consecutive victories at the Spring Tenno Sho.
"The Mejiro family's staying power over long distances is incredibly strong."
"She is a monster, yes. But I believe she is no match for Rice." Shuta emphasized the statement with absolute conviction, before tilting his head. "Does Rice believe in my judgment?"
Just feeling the comforting warmth of the young man's presence had already left Rice feeling a little muddled and blissfully dizzy. Hearing his question, she didn't even bother to formulate a verbal answer, simply nodding and repeatedly bumping her forehead affectionately against her Trainer's chest.
After seeing Rice off to the locker rooms to prepare for her Winning Live, Shuta strolled leisurely toward the designated media zone, a relaxed, confident smile playing on his lips.
As the winning Trainer, protocol dictated that he would face the press first; the other Trainers would only be fed to the wolves after his interview concluded.
During the precious minutes Shuta and Rice had spent celebrating in the tunnel, Trainer Kuronuma had been forced to stand in the media waiting area.
Every second felt as though a dozen physical daggers were being driven into his spine.
Standing a short distance behind him, Trainer Minamizaka shot Kuronuma several glances overflowing with heavy pity.
Making such an arrogant, public declaration of absolute victory before the race, only to be completely, mercilessly crushed by Ann-san—
Minamizaka wasn't the only one harboring those thoughts. Several other Trainers milling around the waiting area were whispering in hushed, gossipy tones, entirely focused on Kuronuma's catastrophic failure. None of them bothered to lower their voices enough to hide the conversation, and every single word pierced Kuronuma's ears.
Perhaps it was the result of a life spent standing under the sun on the training turf, or perhaps it was just his natural complexion, but Kuronuma's skin was deeply tanned.
At this exact moment, that was his only saving grace—it made it impossible for the others to see the furious, humiliated flush burning across his face.
Kuronuma clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles cracked, desperately swallowing his rage.
Just as the suffocating tension in the waiting area reached its absolute peak, the 'culprit' responsible for dragging him into this situation casually strolled into the media zone.
"Hello, everyone! It's a pleasure to be able to chat with you all here again today."
Shuta grinned effortlessly, offering the hungry press pool a lazy, highly photogenic wave.