Garden Gale was bursting with excitement.
Even after she crossed the finish line, she only slowed to a stop little by little… because that final spurt was just too fast. From today on, people would definitely start paying attention to this suddenly emerged Umamusume. Her name would shine across the world!
As Garden Gale snapped out of that serious state, she started noticing more.
The joy of victory drifted into the wind on the track, then the cheers from the stands… and then, behind her, the bitterness.
Bitter resentment turned into longing.
Admire Vega had been sure she would win—but she'd never imagined Garden Gale's final spurt could be that fast. To get passed like that… She pressed her lips together, wanting to say something, but the words wouldn't come. And really, what was there to say?
There'd been no tricks. It was a straight-up duel on the final stretch, a test of speed—and she'd been overtaken. She'd lost.
No excuses.
She'd let down expectations—the crowd's expectations. She'd let down the version of herself who had trained so hard… and she'd let down… that star in the sky.
…She really was.
…SHE REALLY WAS TOO WEAK!
She tipped her head back… lips pressed tight… teeth clenched—so the tears wouldn't spill out.
Anyone with eyes could see Admire Vega wasn't okay. Even Garden Gale, as airheaded as she could be, noticed. She took a step that way… then stopped, not going any closer, her own feelings tangled up—because she was the winner. No matter what she said, it would sound like a victor talking down to a loser.
She knew that.
Garden Gale didn't know how to comfort people. Right now, even speaking felt hard—she was basically half-mute.
Once she woke up from serious mode, she slid right back into her social-anxiety default.
All the feelings she'd been holding down came surging back.
Huh?
"Villain," "final boss descends"—where did those words even come from? How can I be that cringey? Just thinking about it made goosebumps rise. Thank goodness she hadn't said any of it out loud—she'd only muttered it inside her head. Thank goodness, thank goodness—no one knew what she'd been thinking.
Thank goodness…
My ass!!!
What is wrong with me?! One second I'm max-level socially terrified, the next I'm max-level arrogant.
And then all her past embarrassing memories surfaced too.
Sure, she hadn't said it this time, but didn't she used to spout stuff like "Above heaven and earth, I alone reign supreme"? And the commentator was shouting, "From now on, it's her stage"—stop hyping me up, okay?! I'm trash! Don't look at me! If the whole stadium stares at me, I'm going to want to crawl into a crack in the ground!
Because the sewer is where a little rat belongs, okay?!
Forget comforting Admire Vega—at this point, it was a victory if Garden Gale didn't die of embarrassment. She hurriedly clutched her head and thumped it hard—stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it! Stop thinking about it! If I keep thinking, I'll die right in front of you! No thoughts! No brain!
"Uweeh!"
She let out a little beast's wail.
Help!!
Admire Vega, who'd been drowning in sadness, noticed the winner acting strange and couldn't help it—her grief loosened a little.
She looked straight at her.
Watched Garden Gale's self-inflicted meltdown… and couldn't hold it in, letting out a laugh.
"Pfft." Her mood lifted instantly.
Because it really was hard to keep a straight face—honestly, you could call it performance art.
She just had no idea why she was doing it.
Garden Gale frantically waved her hands, then turned around. Her eyes were on Admire Vega—on her, on the pack behind her, and on the reporters hurrying this way—yet her feet kept backing up, retreating toward the open space behind her.
Her steps quickened.
Faster and faster.
Because she didn't want an interview—that was the first reason.
The second reason… was something Garden Gale didn't want even more than death.
...Winner's Live.
Winner's Live, Winner's Live—the stage where the winner puts on a dress and goes up there to jump around and sing and dance! Leave that to the professionals! Just imagining it made her scalp prickle. Garden Gale would rather die than do the Winner's Live—
No, no, no, no, no, no, no!
Absolutely not.
So she forced a shaky smile.
Garden Gale waved again—waved at everyone—signaling she didn't want interviews right now, backing away nonstop, trying to return to the preparation room.
She'd find an opening and run… dodge the Winner's Winner's Live. Like she'd said last time:
Run, run! Even if the Emperor got mad, she'd run!
Symboli Rudolf! Making someone like her go onstage and perform is basically attempted murder!
...
In the stands, Symboli Rudolf narrowed her eyes.
She was finally waking from the shock of that second running style.
For now, she wouldn't worry about where this girl's ceiling really was—what she noticed was Garden Gale backing away. And then she remembered last time, that rotten stunt: running away from the Winner's Live.
If you wanted to be strict about it, it was an insult—to the audience, to the loser, even to the very title of "Umamusume."
The Emperor knew it at once:
Garden Gale was going to do it again.
"No…"
With a sudden scrape, Symboli Rudolf stood and started toward the back.
She was going to catch Garden Gale herself—make her obediently change into a dress and attend the Winner's Live.
After Symboli Rudolf took her first step, Tokai Teio was still sitting there, face full of confusion, like she was thinking hard, not fully back in the moment. So the Emperor, in a rare burst of gentle patience, asked softly, "Teio? What is it?"
"Ah… mm."
Tokai Teio surfaced from her thoughts and answered quickly, "Nothing."
But a shadow flickered through her eyes.
That just now… that obviously wasn't my running style. It was another Umamusume's…
Another Umamusume's, yeah.
Forcing the feeling down, Tokai Teio followed behind Symboli Rudolf—yet her fist clenched without her noticing.
...
The scene shifted to the other side.
Narita Top Road watched what was happening on the track and thought: losing to Garden Gale really had been only natural.
Because she was a monster. She was truly… incredible. If she'd showed that speed in their last duel, Narita Top Road would've been crushed without a fight, wouldn't she? And that sprint on the training track—so she'd always had a super final spurt after all. So she really had been hiding her strength before.
What had once been suspicion had become fact.
…She smiled softly.
No more bitterness.
Her gaze slid to the side, to another girl whose emotions felt off—Fine Motion.
Curren Chan was holding an omamori, looking absentminded—yet as she stood, her expression was just as firm.
Like she was about to do something.
---
bonus chaps
100 stones -> 1 chapter
200 stones -> 2 chapters
300 stones -> 3 chapters
and so on
discord.gg/wisetl
patreon.com/wisetl