"Oguri Cap is coming from behind, the front-running group has also started to move! They're accelerating this early?!"
The live commentator immediately caught the strange shift within the pack, his voice rising in disbelief.
"Shuta An just forcibly sped up the rhythm of the front-runners—" Trainer Setoguchi Tsutomu's eyes widened. "Is that really alright—?"
Standing beside him, Tamamo Cross's Trainer, Ohara Isa, pressed a hand to his forehead. "I have to ask, Setoguchi—were you drunk when you planned these tactics?"
"This—" Setoguchi opened his mouth, wanting to defend himself, but the words died before they formed. His expression hardened instead. "Trainer Ohara—just watch. You'll understand the point of this tactic soon."
Ohara Isa's lips twitched. For now, he saw no "hidden purpose" whatsoever behind Oguri Cap's bizarre passing order. After pulling Oguri Cap into fourth place, Shuta An settled into what looked like a completely ordinary position.
But when they entered the final turn, Shuta An glanced back—just a slight tilt of his head—and nearly dropped his whip.
"Good grief—why are all these guys right behind us?! This isn't when mid-back packs should be charging!"
Fortunately, he forced himself to breathe. A moment later, the answer came to him clearly:
"I accelerated first. Then Obey Your Master followed. So the pace-chasers panicked—if they waited until later, they'd never catch up. So they pushed forward too."
The corners of Shuta An's lips tightened.
"This is more than I expected." He wondered briefly, Should I move up again?
But after scrutinizing his surroundings, he shook his head. "This is perfect. There's no position better than this."
The race reached the final straight. And Shuta An did something outrageous—he didn't whip, didn't push, didn't even call for acceleration. Instead, he allowed Oguri Cap to continue cruising at her natural pace, as calm as drifting water.
"SHUTA AN ISN'T PUSHING! WHAT IS HE DOING?!" The live commentator grabbed his hair in agony. "It's the FINAL SPRINT! Why isn't he DOING ANYTHING?!"
But the guest commentator sitting beside him noticed something the shouting commentator did not.
"Look closely. Oguri Cap hasn't sped up but the original front-running group is slowing down."
Trainer Setoguchi instantly grasped the real situation.
"Shuta-kun's position is perfect—The three horses in front are completely boxed in. They've lost speed because the rhythm was disrupted. And Shuta-kun is sitting comfortably on the outside corner. Obey Your Master is right behind. There's no way the inner runner can accelerate from that formation!"
Ohara Isa's face darkened.
"In that case, Obey Your Master and Oguri Cap can accelerate freely but the inner runners will have to SLOW DOWN, swing WIDE around that 'wall,' and only then begin accelerating."
And once they slowed and shifted—
Tamamo Cross and Tony Bianca, using late-surge tactics, would be swallowed whole behind the chaos.
"Unless they're ghosts, every Uma Musume behind Oguri Cap—except Obey Your Master—has to eat dust." Ohara Isa closed his eyes. "Trainer Setoguchi might actually be terrifying calculating every opponent behind into misery."
Trainer Setoguchi, however, looked more stunned than proud.
"Did Shuta-kun… calculate all of this before the race even started?" His voice trembled. "What is that boy's brain made of—?"
There were still 500 meters left. Shuta An still hadn't unleashed Oguri Cap. Yet Setoguchi's fists were already clenched, trembling with anticipation, ready to shoot into the air.
On the track, Shuta An sensed the inner runners' desperation, felt them begin to break through the "wall." He stopped lingering.
He raised his whip—A sharp left-hand strike. Oguri Cap stepped outward, and her speed began to rise.
Among the trapped runners, Ellerslie Pride alone did not slow down or swing wide. Instead, she remained in place, eyes sharp, waiting. Stewart, her jockey, had been waiting for this moment.
Just as Shuta An began accelerating, Stewart also delivered a left-hand whip, aiming to burst forward through the narrowing gap before Obey Your Master could seal it.
But Shuta An didn't even spare him a glance. "Oguri's already free. Now it's up to her stamina, her power and my riding."
He shut out everything else—every horse, every scream, every footstep behind him—and focused on his practiced pattern on the final straight: Three whips. Pull up the reins. Three hard pushes. Repeat.
Reid, on Tony Bianca, had already broken outside and found a clean path. But when he whipped for acceleration—
Tony Bianca responded—weakly.
She overtook some horses, yes—but the gap between her and Oguri Cap, who was soaring in front of the entire field, didn't shrink enough.
Reid knew then: They could not catch her.
Behind them, Minai Katsumi and Tamamo Cross had finally broken through the 'wall', but both Obey Your Master's jockey obviosly knew something and Shuta An—still remembering the daytime incident—deliberately steered away. Neither wanted to ignite Tamamo Cross's burning fighting spirit. And from that moment—
The outcome of the Japan Cup was sealed.
The Next Morning
Shuta An woke in his new bedroom's double bed. Still groggy, he habitually opened his attribute viewer. Then his eyes widened sharply.
"A new skill 'Charming Whisper.' A move that makes opponents waver during a race."
In an instant, all sleep vanished. Shuta An rubbed his eyes hard, but the glowing text before him didn't vanish.
"There's even a skill like this?" He blinked again. No change.
'Charming Whisper'—makes opponents waver during a race.
"Making opponents waver?" he muttered, thinking back to the Dream World the night before. "Was that when the others started losing their nerve?"
Even so, he couldn't imagine Oguri Cap—who always raced with a pace-chaser or late-surge—possessing the kind of aura that would shake the minds of every competitor around her. With a quiet sigh, he rolled out of bed and stretched, letting the lingering grogginess fade.
'Whatever. Thinking too hard first thing in the morning is pointless.'
He headed toward the bathroom, already planning the day.
"It's lucky we didn't finish all the food from yesterday's celebration," he thought while washing his face. "I can toast some bread, add butter, and make a salad from the leftovers. After breakfast, Oguri needs a proper rest. She ran her heart out yesterday."
He was just about to leave the bedroom when his phone buzzed with a reminder.
"Ah—right, right." He smacked his own forehead. "There's something important I have to do today."
———
After watching the Gray Uma Musume sweep aside every slice of bread he had toasted with such care, Shuta An exhaled and said,
"Oguri and me are going out today."
"Eh?" Oguri Cap looked up, confusion filling her eyes as she met his gaze. "Aren't you taking Berno?"
Berno Light opened her mouth, but Shuta An calmly continued, "I'm taking you to the hospital for a check-up. You worked extremely hard in the Japan Cup. If we're going to prepare for the Arima Kinen, counting from today, we have less than a month. I need to know whether your body can handle performing at the highest level again so soon."
"Okay." The Gray Uma Musume nodded without hesitation.
"Then I'll handle lunch?" Berno Light finally spoke. "You and Oguri will be home for lunch, right?"
"Mm." Shuta An stood from the table. "Go change now. We'll leave immediately and try to return before you're done cooking."
He gave a thin smile. "We won't be long. It's just the check-up. I'll come back by myself later when the report's ready."
Oguri and Berno both nodded without objection.
The hospital Shuta An had chosen was the University of Tokyo Hospital. It was an eighteen-minute drive from the detached house Mejiro Ramonu had rented to them—but his car was still sitting back in Kasamatsu, so public transportation was their only option today.
"When the schedule eases up, I'll go get the car from Kasamatsu," Shuta muttered as they stepped outside. "There's a garage at the house—it's a waste to keep it empty."
"Then I want to go back too. I miss my mom," Oguri Cap said softly.
"The newly crowned Japan Cup champion missing her mother— If I sold that headline to the media, I could probably make a decent profit," Shuta replied with a teasing glance over his shoulder.
Oguri Cap caught up with a few quick steps and smoothly hooked her arm through his.
Shuta didn't pull away, but he offered a quiet warning. "You'll have to let go before we reach the station."
"Mm. I know." Her voice dipped into a gentle hum. "But there's no one around now, so let me hold on a bit longer."
He didn't answer, only slowing his pace so she could savor the moment.
When they arrived at the University of Tokyo Hospital, several medical staff and visitors immediately recognized the Gray Uma Musume—fresh off her brilliant Japan Cup victory just the day before. Eyes widened; whispers rippled—some excited, some nervous. The admissions guide who hurried over was visibly trembling.
"U-um… may I ask what symptoms you're being seen for?"
Shuta offered a reassuring smile and shook his head. "Oguri isn't injured. Today is just a physical check-up."
"Oh—thank goodness…" The guide exhaled deeply, shoulders relaxing as she turned to lead them. "Please follow me."
Knowing Oguri Cap's current popularity, no one in Japan wanted to hear the word "injury" associated with her. The doctor who received them grew stiff as soon as he realized who his patient was.
If something's wrong…I'm going to get hunted down by fans, he thought with dread.
…
That afternoon, Shuta returned alone to pick up the results. The doctor sat behind his desk, looking surprisingly relaxed.
Seeing that, Shuta's tension eased. "From your face…I'm guessing nothing serious showed up?"
"Correct," the doctor said, smiling warmly. "More precisely, any issues Miss Oguri Cap has are typical post-race damage. With adequate rest, she'll recover fully."
"She needs rest?" Shuta raised a brow. "How long?"
"Three weeks." The doctor answered cautiously. "Possibly less, but three weeks guarantees a proper recovery."
"Three weeks?" Shuta's eyes widened.
"Yes—the most conservative estimate. But recovery speed varies. She may heal faster."
"I understand. Thank you for the explanation." Shuta bowed, took the envelope containing the report, and hurried out.
…
Japan Cup: November 27. Arima Kinen: Christmas Day.
Twenty-eight days total. If Oguri needed twenty-one days of rest, then he would be left with only seven days—seven—to bring her back into peak condition.
"It's impossible," Shuta murmured.
On the West Coast, he'd learned early: under normal conditions, moving a Uma Musume from a resting state to race-ready form required at least ten days.
'Where am I supposed to find those extra three days?'
Lost in thought, he bit his lip and walked toward home, the question repeating endlessly in his mind.
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