Chapter 109. Not Giving Up Yet
The reason Bucks Boy's decline was already a foregone conclusion came down to one telling detail: even after her second surge, the split for the twelve-hundred-to-sixteen-hundred-meter stretch actually came in slower than the one before it.
Accelerate and end up slower — it wasn't hard to picture what would happen once BucksBoy's stamina finally gave out from under that pace entirely.
"At this rate, Dober should be able to close the gap without even needing to accelerate herself."
Shuta An's eyes stayed on the screen.
"The real fight's going to be up front, everyone jostling for position. It's just a matter of how cleanly Dober can find her way through."
"Sounds like you're about to win our bet." Ramonu pressed her lips together.
"I'll admit, the way this race unfolded caught me off guard for a while there. But in the end, it landed exactly where I figured it would." He spread his hands. "Bucks Boy was never strong enough to actually shape the overall race."
"Dober's adjusting her position now." Ramonu's gaze lifted to the big screen. "Looks like she's setting up to cut diagonally out of the pack once she hits the turn."
The words had barely left her mouth when Shuta An looked up as well, catching the same shift in Dober's positioning.
"You're right — she's found her window."
"Watching her run like this—honestly, the old me could never have pictured Dober performing at this level."
Ramonu turned to look at him again.
"That's entirely down to how well you've trained her."
"The real credit belongs to Dober herself — her work ethic." He waved off the compliment. "No amount of coaching fixes a lack of diligence in the Uma Musume herself."
"I suppose if the talent's there in the first place, maybe diligence doesn't matter quite as much?" Ramonu murmured, half to herself.
Shuta An let the comment pass without response.
His own view hadn't shifted — every Uma Musume on the Sadalsuud roster had both talent and drive in equal measure. They'd have found success somewhere regardless of whose team they'd joined.
What he brought to the table was pushing that success further than any other Trainer could have managed. And by that measure, he was, for now, satisfied with what he'd built.
Entering the final bend, Dober shifted a few steps diagonally outward, cutting from the inside of the pack toward the outer lane, forcing her way directly ahead of Chief Bearhart.
Chief Bearhart, who'd planned to make her own early move, had no choice but to brake hard and swing wide around her instead.
Why does her every move keep landing right on top of mine!
Chief Bearhart bit back the frustration silently. Ever since she'd conceded that first opening at the start, every time their tactical instincts lined up, she was the one forced to yield ground. That was the cost of not fighting Dober for position from the very first stride — and it was a cost she'd keep paying for the rest of the race.
As the whole field swept into the final turn, Dober dropped her center low, sharpened her focus, and shut every rival out of her awareness entirely.
"Is that the Zone?"
Shuta An would confidently claim that no one on earth understood Mejiro Dober's body the way he did. A single glimpse of her form on the big screen told him exactly what she was doing.
"The Zone?"
Ramonu's eyebrow arched. She'd heard Symboli Rudolf reference the concept before, but she hadn't expected Dober to have already mastered it herself.
Though I suppose it isn't really surprising, is it. The Triple Tiara champion turned the thought over. Her results speak for themselves — mastering something like that was probably inevitable.
But this is Dober we're talking about. No warm-up, no lead-in — she just drops straight into that state the instant she wants to. I can't do that. Not even close.
The rivals around her felt it even more sharply. Chief Bearhart sensed the shift the moment it happened — something in Dober had gone cold and razor-edged in an instant.
What is that?
Chief Bearhart couldn't name it, but she felt the difference immediately — Dober's pace had sharpened the second it hit her.
I need to push now too!
She was already sitting further back than she wanted. If she let Dober break clear while she held back, she had no illusions about which way the goddess of victory would look tonight.
"Dober's already got the Zone down that cleanly?" Secretariat's surprise was plain. "I've never once seen her actually train for it."
Just as Shuta An had predicted, Bucks Boy began fading through the back half of the final bend, and at the two-thousand-meter mark, Dober swept past both Rajpoute and Bucks Boy to claim the front of the pack outright.
"Isn't it risky, taking the lead this early?" Ramonu's brow furrowed. "There's still four hundred meters left. Can she hold that?"
"As long as she puts as much distance as she can into the next three hundred meters, that's all she needs."
Shuta An glanced at the timer — 1:59.11 — before answering.
"For the final four hundred, if Dober can hold roughly twelve seconds per two hundred, this race is hers."
"Really?"
Ramonu hadn't expected him to name the exact key to victory with that much ground still left to cover.
"Don't believe me?"
He kept his eyes fixed on Dober's figure on the screen.
"Given how she typically runs, she should start easing off right about now. In this last stretch of the bend, she'll drop her pace slightly and cut into the inner lane to conserve energy — then unleash it all again once she hits the final straight. There's time to spare."
Ramonu fell silent for a few seconds — and then, sure enough, watched Dober do exactly that: ease off, drift inward, precisely as he'd called it.
"I don't think I understand Dober as well as you do anymore."
She had to concede the point outright.
"That's only natural."
Shuta An accepted the remark without hesitation. Even a young lady of the Mejiro family couldn't be expected to read Dober's body the way he could.
"Mejiro Dober takes the lead into the final straight! Can she hold it all the way to the line?!" the commentator's voice rang out.
Secretariat rose from her seat and crossed to the floor-to-ceiling window, where her vantage point gave her a clear view of the shifting field down the final stretch.
"She's adjusting her stride again — getting ready for another surge."
Secretariat, with all her experience, read Dober's plan the instant she saw it unfold.
"But this race isn't decided yet."
Her gaze settled on Chief Bearhart, two lengths back and closing.
"There's still someone behind you who hasn't given up, Mejiro Dober."