"Inhale… exhale…"
At the lounge door, Mejiro McQueen closed her eyes, steadying her breath.
She'd lost to Stardust Illusion last time. This practice race added eight French runners to the mix.
If this were still the McQueen of a few days ago, she'd be wringing her hands.
But now was different. After meeting Stardust Illusion, she'd learned you don't need so many reasons to run. Run to win, and that is enough.
That girl had stood in her room and declared she'd take this victory to jolt McQueen back to form.
But McQueen knew it already—seeing such a runner had revived her.
Now she knew her sole thought: victory.
Whoever the opponent is…
I am the Mejiro family's new hope, the diva of turf, I-I-I… I'm the long-distance sovereign!
Since the course is a full 2400m middle-long, there's no reason to lose—she had to win.
She clenched a fist to her chest to cheer herself.
"You are serious, McQueen," said Gold Ship beside her, playing with her Rubik's cube, headphones sealed.
"You're too lax, Gold Ship," McQueen opened her eyes and sighed at her partner's nonchalance. "Only by going all-in can we step onto the winner's stage. You know that."
"…" Gold Ship stopped twisting and lifted her head, eyes firming. "McQueen—one question."
Her severity made McQueen tense. She swallowed and fussed with her lilac hair. "W-what? Getting serious at last?"
"No. I just remembered… we forgot to tell Tokai Teio and the others to sell yakisoba!" Gold Ship leapt up, wailing, "Damn! With this crowd we'd make a killing!"
"Expecting you to be serious—I'm such a fool," McQueen groaned, facepalming.
Rumble—rumble—rumble…
"?!"
The corridor's air shifted.
McQueen felt a thorny gaze at her back.
A crushing weight bore down like Mount Tai, stealing her breath.
What—?
She whipped around to find the source.
At the same instant, the snake-coil suffocation drew tighter.
She stood still in an ordinary corridor but felt the very space twist.
A mountain rose from bare floor; night fell. A full moon climbed behind the peak, lighting silhouettes on the crest—the source of the weight.
At the foot, she felt tinier than ever; even craning her neck, she couldn't see who stood atop—
"Hey, Mc~Queen!" Gold Ship's voice yanked her back.
She refocused—at the French exchange team.
Leading was Noblesse.
Behind her, six equally tall—some hulking—horse girls followed step for step.
In the rear, a pink-haired filly—petite by contrast—waved shyly at McQueen and Gold Ship.
Noblesse's face was glacial, her whole body radiating ominous pressure—the very image of a tyrant.
Even McQueen, bred on Mejiro elite discipline, felt fear.
She could sense it—she was fundamentally outclassed by Noblesse right now.
So this is… a world-class horse girl?
Her feelings tangled.
She had seen Noblesse in Mejiro castle once, but the gentle guest then and the tyrant now seemed different people.
Is this her true form…?
No—race hasn't started. What am I scared of?
Just her ambient aura aimed at me—am I retreating already?!
She gritted her teeth and forced down the shake.
McQueen raised her head, eyes steady, and held Noblesse's gaze.
Only by not flinching could she prove she'd found her courage!
Noblesse's group drew nearer…
And walked right past.
What?!
McQueen jerked and spun. The eight never even looked back.
Only then did McQueen realize—Noblesse hadn't noticed her at all.
So-called "aura aimed at me" was simply Noblesse brewing her own state before the race—spillover!
"Damn!" McQueen muttered. She was Mejiro; pride was in her bones. Being ignored was intolerable—
But if you think that will rattle me, you're dead wrong, Noblesse!
Flames roared in her eyes. Anger didn't twist her; only one thought remained:
Win, no matter what.
"Eh, were those the French? So tall and big. Will they clog my late-run lines?" Gold Ship tilted her head, still oblivious.
"You—have some urgency!!!" McQueen cracked on the spot and socked Gold Ship.
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