Chapter 18. Hellish Satsuki Sho Gate
Shuta An returned to the hotel room carrying the envelope, intending to find Mejiro Dober. It had already been agreed beforehand that the documentary crew would not be allowed onto this floor, so he had no concerns about causing trouble.
When the young man entered the suite, he found Mejiro Dober seated on the terrace, sketching the distant coastline. Although it took more than ten minutes to walk from the hotel to the nearest beach, the visibility from here was excellent enough for the scenery to serve as a suitable subject.
Hearing the sound of the door opening and closing, followed by approaching footsteps, Mejiro Dober didn't bother turning around. Besides herself, only Shuta An could enter this room.
Sure enough, once the footsteps stopped, she could already feel the familiar gaze resting on her back.
"Dober's drawing skills have improved again," Shuta An praised. "If you release an artbook at Comiket this year, it'll probably sell out instantly."
"I probably won't have time for the summer Comiket this year." Mejiro Dober shook her head lightly.
"Whether the next race is the Yasuda Kinen or the Takarazuka Kinen, won't I still have to prepare for overseas races during the summer? I already agreed to that this morning. Since I'm preparing for an overseas campaign, giving up one summer Comiket isn't a big deal."
"It's a shame I know absolutely nothing about drawing. Otherwise, I could at least become Dober's assistant or something," Shuta An sighed as he prepared to hand her the envelope containing the gate assignments.
Upon hearing that sigh, Mejiro Dober silently thought to herself:
"Even if you could help, I still wouldn't agree. The original doujinshi I've been drawing recently all use you as the male protagonist. You'd recognize it instantly."
After looking through the gate assignments for both herself and her rivals, Mejiro Dober raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Another outermost gate." Her tone was calm. "It feels like I'm destined to draw the outside gate this year."
"It's fine. Starting immediately to your right is Darazari. I don't need to introduce her again, do I?" After Shuta An spoke, Mejiro Dober narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Darazari..." she murmured. "We started side by side in the previous race."
Naturally, she wouldn't forget the Uma Musume who failed to secure the lead cleanly last time.
"And to Darazari's inside is Horizon. She can also contest the lead," Shuta An continued. "This time, the two of them are right next to each other, so there's a high chance they'll fight for the pace early. Everyone already knows a slow pace favors Dober."
"It's fine." Mejiro Dober smiled faintly. "Didn't Trainer explain before that Randwick's final straight is 410 meters long? It's not as long as Tokyo Racecourse, but it still counts as a relatively long stretch. Even if the pace becomes fast, I'll still be okay."
Unable to resist, Shuta An reached over and rubbed her head.
"Whether it's a fast pace or a slow pace, Dober's strength in Australia is already enough to overwhelm the others."
"It's not because of strength." Mejiro Dober held a different opinion. She lightly grasped the young man's wrist before continuing softly, "It's because I'm really looking forward to Saturday night with Trainer."
"..."
For a brief moment, Shuta An found himself speechless.
What he had said to Mejiro Dober two days earlier certainly hadn't been empty reassurance, but for her anticipation alone to positively affect her preparation to this extent—even without directly clarifying anything—still surprised him somewhat.
"So Dober's looking forward to it that much..." the young man thought silently. "Then I absolutely can't disappoint her."
On Thursday, Shuta An brought his laptop with him while accompanying Mejiro Dober's training.
Seated beside the track, he would occasionally lower his gaze to the computer screen before looking back up to observe Mejiro Dober's training condition.
The documentary crew filmed from a moderate distance away, occasionally pausing to rest after capturing enough footage.
The director eventually walked over and noticed that Shuta An was continuously refreshing the Central URA Association page.
"Shuta Trainer is...?" he asked in confusion.
"Today is the announcement day for the Satsuki Sho gate draw," Shuta An replied without lifting his head. "I want to see which gate Tokai Teio draws."
"Does Shuta Trainer have any expectations regarding the gate assignment?" the director asked again, repeating yesterday's question.
Before answering, Shuta An suddenly recalled how he had responded yesterday—only for Mejiro Dober to immediately draw the outermost gate afterward.
"I seriously don't want another outside gate this time," the young man grumbled inwardly. "In Satsuki Sho history, with more than sixteen runners, the outermost gate has never won even once."
There were eighteen Uma Musume still remaining on this year's Satsuki Sho entry list. If Tokai Teio drew gate eighteen, it would practically be nightmare difficulty.
"Please, anything but gate eighteen. Even seventeen would be acceptable."
Although his face remained calm, he prayed repeatedly in his heart.
At 1:15 PM, the Central URA Association officially released the Satsuki Sho gate assignments.
Shuta An immediately clicked into the race card.
As his eyes scanned downward line by line, his expression gradually darkened.
Then, without hesitation, he scrolled directly to the bottom.
There, beside Tokai Teio's name, sat the number "18."
"Fu—"
The young man nearly cursed aloud before forcefully stopping himself. Even so, he still slapped his thigh heavily.
The cameras captured the entire scene.
"Teio has definitely already seen the draw results," Shuta An muttered as he took a deep breath before immediately pulling out his phone and initiating a Line voice call.
Sure enough, the moment Tokai Teio answered—
"Trainer, I'm fine."
But Shuta An could immediately hear that her mood was far from good.
And he completely understood why.
After all, this was a cursed gate position. A gate that had never once produced a Satsuki Sho winner. For Tokai Teio, who aimed to become an undefeated Triple Crown Uma Musume, drawing gate eighteen was undeniably terrible luck.
"It's okay," Shuta An comforted her immediately. "This gate doesn't mean despair, Teio. Don't think too negatively."
"A gate that's never won before—" Tokai Teio sighed softly. "I won't let it affect me. Don't worry."
"Listen to me."
Shuta An refused to simply accept those words at face value.
"This gate truly doesn't mean anything. From the start to the first corner in the Satsuki Sho, there's still 450 meters. That's more than enough room for Teio to secure position. As long as you control the early lead properly, an outside draw can actually pin the inside runners behind you. So don't feel anxious. Believe in yourself. Believe in me, Teio!"
As Shuta An described the scenario, Tokai Teio could already picture herself smoothly advancing into a favorable leading position while trapping the horses drawn inside.
Only then did the gloomy feeling caused by gate eighteen finally begin to fade.
"Teio, wait for me to finish analyzing your opponents and set up the tactics tonight," the young man continued after a brief pause. "On Sunday, I'll be in the stands at Nakayama Racecourse cheering for you. At that time, I'll witness Teio's strength with my own eyes."
Tokai Teio pursed her lips slightly before replying softly:
"I'll make sure Trainer sees it."
—
Saturday—the day of the Queen Elizabeth Stakes.
Today, Randwick Racecourse would host eight graded stakes races, consisting of four G1 races and four G2 races. For fans of Australia's Twinkle Series, this was undoubtedly a rare festival-level race day.
"To be honest, I'd also love to see this kind of race-day structure appear in Japan," Shuta An said as he turned toward the documentary crew following beside him. "But Japan's current scheduling system doesn't really allow it. Only something like the Japan Breeder's Cup could possibly achieve this scale."
"Four G1 races in a single day—only Western countries could afford to be this extravagant," the director replied with a laugh.
"I just hope the future Japan Breeder's Cup can eventually reach the same scale as America's Breeder's Cup." Shuta An didn't continue the topic further, because he never believed the Central URA Association lacked the capability to organize such an event.
"It's simply a choice between concentrating all the excitement into one day or distributing it across several weeks," the young man thought silently.
As the Trainer of Mejiro Dober—the heavy favorite for the Queen Elizabeth Stakes—Shuta An found himself immediately surrounded by local reporters after entering Randwick Racecourse together with the film crew. Everyone wanted to interview him before the race began, asking about his expectations for the day, his evaluation of his rivals, and his thoughts regarding the other Uma Musume competing today.
Regarding Mejiro Dober, Shuta An answered without hesitation:
"We came here to fight for victory. This race, named after Her Majesty the Queen, holds extremely high prestige in this country. If we can win it, it will become the highest honor for both Mejiro Dober and myself."
As for the other races, the young man simply shrugged.
"I'm sorry, but I haven't studied the other races at all. Right now, my full attention is entirely focused on the Queen Elizabeth Stakes. I want Dober to deliver the very best performance possible for everyone looking forward to her today."
After finally dealing with the reporters, Shuta An turned and began walking toward the participant Box, intending to bring the film crew there to rest and watch the races.
But just as he stepped away from the media area, a weak and lifeless voice suddenly called out:
"Mr. Shuta An!"
The young man turned toward the source of the voice and froze slightly.
What entered his sight was a young girl sitting crookedly in a wheelchair, appearing no older than eleven or twelve. Standing behind her was a couple who were presumably her parents.
"Excuse me, was it this lovely young lady who called for me?" Shuta An walked over and crouched slightly beside the railing so he could meet her gaze directly.
The girl herself didn't speak. Instead, she slowly lifted a finger and pressed against the tablet mounted on her wheelchair. After several long seconds, the small speaker attached to the device finally emitted a mechanical voice.
"I'm a fan of Mr. Shuta. Please do your best today!"
Shuta An first looked up and met the eyes of her parents before slowly bowing deeply.
"Thank you very much for your support. Please look forward to today. We will absolutely deliver a performance worthy of everyone's expectations."
After straightening himself again, he asked gently:
"May I know your name?"
The girl slowly moved her fingers across the tablet once more. This time, her response appeared much faster.
"Melanie."
"Miss Melanie," Shuta An took a small step backward before bowing solemnly once again, "I swear on my name that I will not disappoint you today."
The couple behind Melanie looked as though they wanted to say something, but ultimately remained silent. It seemed they felt this brief interaction should belong entirely to their daughter.
When Shuta An finally turned away, the camera lens captured the change in his expression clearly. The relaxed composure he displayed during the earlier interviews had completely disappeared.
"Shuta Trainer suddenly seems to be under a lot of pressure," the director remarked softly.
"Yes." Shuta An admitted it openly. "The pressure really is enormous. If she had simply been Dober's fan, I would've been fine. But she specifically said she was my fan."
The young man smiled bitterly.
"I'm only a Trainer. The moment she said that, it suddenly felt as though the expectations originally placed on Dober had shifted onto my shoulders instead."
"Then just win," the director comforted him naturally.
"Yes... just win."
Shuta An repeated the words quietly while continuing toward the participant Box.
But just before pushing open the door, the young man suddenly turned back toward the director.
"Is simply winning enough?"
The director blinked in surprise. "What else does Shuta Trainer want to do?"
"What else..." Shuta An stepped into the room, his thoughts drifting briefly toward Melanie and the clothing worn by her parents, which suggested they were relatively well-off financially.
He walked toward the refrigerator and pulled out a can of sparkling water. The icy chill from the refrigerator made him shiver slightly.
Perhaps because of that sudden stimulation, the young man's eyes abruptly lit up.
"I know what else can be done."
He muttered softly to himself before returning to the sofa.
Before the first race of the day—the G2 Grand Prize Western Australian Derby—even began, Shuta An had already pulled out his phone and contacted Symboli Rudolf regarding the idea that had just appeared in his mind.
"Would it be possible to cooperate with charitable organizations and establish a high-purse race that isn't restricted by prize-money qualification requirements?" he proposed.
"Uma Musume who choose to participate would donate 2% of their prize earnings to their selected charity organization, while the winning Uma Musume would donate an additional 10% of her prize money afterward. This way, the influence of the Twinkle Series could be used to support public welfare."
"That's an interesting proposal."
After remaining on "read" for a while, Symboli Rudolf finally replied.
"But unfortunately, this model currently lacks legal authorization in Japan, so it wouldn't work here. However, Shuta-kun, why did you suddenly think about something like this? Did something happen in Sydney?"
"So it can't work..." Shuta An muttered in disappointment. "Then I suppose this idea can only be tested in places like Australia or America."
Afterward, he immediately forwarded the concept to Secretariat as well—though considering the Student Council President of West Coast Tracen Academy was probably still asleep at this hour, she naturally wouldn't see it immediately.
Then Shuta An forwarded the same proposal to Freedman, Australia's representative within the IFUA and also one of his acquaintances.
"Oh! That's a very interesting idea! Personally, I strongly support it!" Freedman replied almost immediately. "However, if we truly want to implement something like this, there are still many practical issues that would require detailed research."
Since one of the Uma Musume trained by Freedman was also competing in another G1 at Randwick today, he quickly followed up with another message:
"May I come over to Mr. Shuta's Box so we can discuss this in more detail?"
After briefly consulting the documentary director beside him, Shuta An agreed.