Chapter 145: Like a Fish in Water on the Slope
Like the prologue of a chaotic symphony, in the brief ten seconds after the gates burst open, eighteen figures shot onto the track like a storm of arrows loosed from their strings—each one crossing and colliding with the others in a blur of motion.
Sunlight shattered into glittering fragments where iron horseshoes struck the turf. The ten-thousand-strong crowd became ten thousand high-speed cameras, their eyes capturing every spark of clash and surge with excitement and tension.
The line of runners, once neatly spread, visibly compressed, dirt and grass flying from the inside lanes.
Behind the fastest few, the ground itself showed shallow furrows carved into it by their hooves.
As she dashed forward at full speed, Kitasan Black felt a quiet surge of relief.
Just as her seniors and trainer had said, the Japanese Derby was truly unlike any other.
She couldn't see or keep track of everything happening across the course, but from the sounds and flickers in her peripheral vision, she could tell—the battle on the inside lanes was fierce.
If she'd charged in as she usually did, whether she could win or not didn't matter—she definitely wouldn't have been able to break free so easily.
'Good thing… good thing I got out before they noticed.'
Relieved, she once again swept her gaze from side to side, and finally locked onto the first corner ahead.
But… the outside lane was still too much of a disadvantage. And the first turn's coming up.
'A sloped turn…'
"They're about to enter the extremely difficult first corner!"
The commentator's voice rose a few pitches higher.
"Following Kitasan Black, No.15—Susan Muse—has also found an opening and broken through the crowd! She's now in fourth place."
"The leader remains Ribbon Victory, clearly intent on maintaining the front position."
"Right behind her is No.18—Tagano Café—third is Kitasan Black, and fourth is Susan Muse!"
"These four runners form the leading pack, charging up the incline toward the first corner!"
"Oh?! Kitasan Black is accelerating!"
On the track, excitement welled up uncontrollably within Kitasan Black's chest.
Perhaps she had been infected by her Trainer enthusiasm—or perhaps, just as he'd said, she truly did have a natural talent for extreme stunts.
In any case, no matter what kind of training she compared it to, this was the one she felt most drawn to—and learned the fastest.
Running at a 90° vertical angle to a wall no longer posed any problem for her. Though this was just a sideways run, after all her training, she felt exactly like the way her Trauber had once joked:
"Maybe we should get the Association to move the whole Derby track onto a wall. You're born for this kind of thing—running on walls suits you like… yeah, like a fish swimming in water."
And indeed—right now, she really did feel like she was swimming.
Swimming across the slope known as the Japanese Derby's first corner.
And not just swimming.
Gradient acceleration, curved positioning, airborne lead change. Day after day of drills—each technique had long since been etched into her very bones.
If extreme stunts made her a fish in water on sloped corners, then those techniques gave her something extra—fins, webs, an edge no other "fish" possessed.
Immersed in that exhilarating sensation, she noticed the figures ahead on her left drawing closer and closer.
"Kitasan Black… her running form looks unusual—she's holding herself very low!"
The commentator sounded surprised.
"There were reports before the race that she underwent a special kind of training—looks like this is the result!"
"She's cutting in fast! So that's why she gave up fighting for position at the start—it was all for this moment!"
"Ribbon Victory's lead is shrinking—"
"No—wait! It's not!
"Sensing Kitasan Black's pursuit, Ribbon Victory is accelerating again! The gap widens once more!"
"The others aren't planning to yield their positions either! The order of the leading pack remains the same—Wait! The pace—it's fast! The whole group is running at incredible speed!"
"They've cleared the first and second turns, passing the 1000-meter mark in 58.1 seconds!"
"But Kitasan Black seems to be slowing down! It looks like she didn't make it through the corner cleanly!"
"She's drifting wide in the third and fourth positions, now down to around fifth or sixth place!"
"Maybe she's changed her strategy for the Japanese Derby, planning to settle things later in the race."
"What kind of secret technique will she show us? Let's wait and see!"
As the commentator's focus turned to her, the hundred-thousand pairs of eyes in the stands watched the black-haired girl's movements—closing in on the curve, then drifting back again, as if her effort had been for nothing. She was now farther behind than before.
"F–fifty-eight point one?"
Special Week gasped.
"That… that speed— even for the Japanese Derby, that's way too fast, isn't it?"
"Forget about fast or not!"
Gold Ship gripped the railing tightly, eyes locked on Kitasan Black while glancing sideways at the silent Makoto.
"Isn't Kita-chan best at running from the front? Isn't that position dangerous? She's running in the pace chaser group, right?"
"Calm down, Golshi."
The one who answered wasn't Makoto, but Tokai Teio.
Arms folded, eyes following Kitasan Black's figure, she pressed her lips together.
"It's true—Kita-chan's specialty is leading the pack. But don't forget, she's also capable of running as a pace chaser, and her performance there isn't bad at all."
"More importantly…"
A spark of admiration flashed in Teio's eyes.
"Her rhythm, it hasn't been thrown off."
"Rhythm…?" Gold Ship blinked.
"Exactly. Calm yourself, Golshi," said Mejiro McQueen, gently.
"Every race demands proper stamina control. The leaders up front are clearly going too fast right now—rushing to hold position like that isn't a smart choice."
"Kitachan's running at her own pace, undisturbed by the others. Her condition looks great."
"Besides…"
Her gaze, intentional or not, slid toward Makoto—just as Gold Ship's had earlier.
"She might not have completely given up on leading."
Makoto still said nothing.
Holding his binoculars, he kept the lens trained on the black-haired girl. For a brief moment, he shifted the focus forward, then brought it back.
The second uphill slope—it was coming.
Silently, he murmured to himself:
"Here it comes."
. . .
"The field has now stretched into a long single file, and the runners are entering the back straight."
"The leading pack remains strong—let's check their positions again."
"Still in front is Ribbon Victory, who's maintained first place since the early clashes."
"In second is Comet Meath, third Subizumi, fourth Tagano Café—who was previously in second—and formerly third-place Kitasan Black—"
"Wait!
"As they hit the slope again, Kitasan Black is accelerating! She's moving up—fourth, third, second—"
"She's overtaken Ribbon Victory!"
"Kitasan Black is now in the lead by half a length!"
"Spectacular! Once again showing that unique running style—Kitasan Black charges ahead, seizing the lead in just seconds after entering the straight!"
"What a dazzling performance—like a festival coming to life!"
"Is the festival storm that swept through Nakayama racecourse now blowing across Tokyo's Racecourse?!"
The grandstands erupted like a burst of festival fireworks—cheers and applause rising all at once.
All at once, Tokai Teio and the others who had been worrying, doubting, or encouraging her finally exhaled in relief.
At the same time, from the highest and farthest section of the stands, another calm voice spoke.
"See? I told you this kid was something special."
With a reassuring smile, Deep Impact turned to the person beside her.
"Right, nee-san?"