In Kitasan Black's vision, just four or five meters back to her right was Deep Impact, whom she'd thought was still trailing at the very back mere seconds ago.
That forward-leaning figure was etched clearly onto her retinas, about four to five meters away.
The track exploded under Deep Impact's swift and violent strides, her taut leg muscles vibrating at high frequency like hydraulic pistons, kicking up small, shallow craters in the woodchip layer with each powerful step.
Dark brown woodchips sprayed outward and backward ceaselessly, some even reaching as far as Kitasan's face.
Instinctively, Kitasan tilted her head aside—but immediately snapped it back, eyes widening slightly in shock.
In just that brief instant, her senpai had already drawn parallel with her.
Deep Impact's chestnut-colored hair and ponytail whipped straight behind her against the headwind, her bangs blown upward, revealing her smooth forehead and golden eyes blazing like flames.
Her pupils were slightly constricted, fixed forward; her nostrils flared, lips tight, as if this wasn't a mere training race, but rather a high-stakes battle like the Japanese Derby itself.
Yet despite this fiercely evident concentration, Deep Impact's breathing rhythm, stride length, and frequency were terrifyingly steady.
For a fleeting moment, Kitasan Black felt an illusion—this unnatural burst of speed at the very beginning was, to her senpai, no more unusual than a leisurely afternoon stroll.
But… What kind of running style—what kind of tactic is this?!
For the first time since her debut—or even counting the days before—panic fluttered in her chest.
Accelerating hard early in the race wasn't unheard of.
Stamina was at its peak right after leaving the gates. If she could seize an advantageous position using this peak condition, she would undoubtedly reap benefits later on.
But the early stage of a race was less than half the total distance.
Even though tactics like positioning battles or applying pressure were common, spending too much stamina in a forced acceleration was never beneficial. It only carried the risk of not being able to finish the race.
Normally, the wiser choice was to let Kitasan control the pace temporarily, then either challenge her later or wait until the final corner and straight to make their decisive move. That was exactly how previous opponents had behaved.
But Deep Impact's acceleration right now was completely beyond her expectations.
It was as if this senpai had forgotten there were still more than two thousand meters to go, running at a speed usually reserved for the final stretch.
In Kitasan's view, she'd already shaken off Special Week and the others, successfully establishing her front-running pace—there was no need for Deep Impact to accelerate this intensely.
Then…what exactly is senpai thinking?!
Biting her lower lip, she tried desperately to recall her previous training and knowledge, but suddenly her eyes went wide again.
Deep Impact had already passed her.
Though difficult to gauge precisely due to their lateral separation, it was unmistakably clear: her senpai was now leading.
More critically, the first corner was rapidly approaching.
As the initial positional struggle drew toward an end and the bend appeared, the field would narrow horizontally and stretch vertically.
This meant that any Uma Musume not leading would inevitably be obstructed by someone ahead.
No time left for hesitation, Kitasan's throat tightened, her chest and abdominal muscles trembled intensely, and her breathing—which had only just begun to stabilize—tightened once more.
Her stride shortened simultaneously, frequency increasing dramatically.
These were the necessities for acceleration.
She absolutely had to reclaim the lead by the first corner.
She wasn't certain how good Deep Impact was at front-running.
But one thing was clear: if she allowed this senpai to control the front, considering her strength and experience, Kitasan would have zero chance of reclaiming the position later.
At the same moment, off the track—
Watching the black-haired girl swiftly approaching the corner, Silence Suzuka pressed her lips together and clenched her hands at her sides.
"This isn't good. Kita-chan's rhythm…has been completely thrown off."
"Well…it couldn't really be helped, right?"
Gold Ship, previously enjoying Orfevre's earlier gate mishap, now furrowed her brows as concern for her kouhai finally surfaced.
"Who would've expected Deep Impact-senpai to chase this aggressively so early?"
"No, you could say this was predictable."
Daiwa Scarlet abruptly interrupted:
"I didn't realize earlier, but thinking about it carefully now—Kita-chan was too careless in her opening stage."
"Careless? Really?"
Gold Ship stared incredulously. "I've never run front-runner myself, but wasn't Kita-chan's early lead just fine?"
"It's different, Golshi-sama. I understand what Scarlet-san means."
Silence Suzuka's brow furrowed gently:
"Spe-chan told me you've been regularly helping Kita-chan train. You should be familiar enough with her style and habits. After Kita-chan accelerated just now, Spe-chan and Vodka-san probably realized immediately what she was aiming for, so they gave up pressuring further.
"And Grass-san…likely took cues from Spe-chan and held back as well.
"The real issue is…"
Her gaze shifted between the race's front and rear positions, and she pressed her lips tightly again.
"Deep Impact-san and Orfevre-san…won't be thinking along those lines at all.
"With their strength and competitive spirit, there's no way…they'll let Kita-chan off so easily.
"That's the carelessness Scarlet-san meant."
As the three Uma Musume quietly conversed, Yasui Makoto observed the race intently without uttering a single word.
To best help Kitasan achieve her training goals, he'd individually discussed strategies with each participating Uma Musume—but he hadn't micromanaged every step.
They were, after all, quite different from Kitasan Black, whom he understood much more thoroughly.
Instead of giving overly detailed instructions and risking interference, it was better to trust their strength and experience.
Thus, just like Gold Ship, he hadn't anticipated Deep Impact unleashing such explosive speed so early.
But upon further reflection, this wasn't necessarily a bad thing—indeed, it perfectly fulfilled one of the purposes of a training race.
As Daiwa Scarlet and Silence Suzuka had said, after several months of training together, Special Week and the others were now deeply familiar with Kitasan's racing habits.
This familiarity meant Kitasan always enjoyed ideal conditions and maximum cooperation in their daily sessions and even these training races.
But real races were rarely so ideal.
Sometimes leading contenders withdrew unexpectedly, bringing in unknown replacements.
Sometimes rivals took bold, high-risk tactics they'd never used before.
Sometimes extreme scenarios occurred—like Duramente's ferocious final surge in the Satsuki Sho, or Grass Wonder's explosive runs in the Takarazuka Kinen and Arima Kinen.
Various unpredictable factors made actual competitions far less certain—no one could guarantee perfect preparation through training alone.
Especially for the upcoming Japanese Derby.
Even if the starting lineup remained unchanged, unorthodox tactics and unexpected bursts of speed were guaranteed to appear.
Deep Impact's spontaneous move precisely intensified training for such scenarios.
And as Daiwa Scarlet and Silence Suzuka pointed out, this senpai clearly had no intention of letting Kitasan Black off lightly.