"Alright, everything's ready. Sorry for the wait!"
"Don't sweat it," Tama replied, her voice sharp but playful. "If anything, sorry for rushin' ya. This bottomless pit of a stomach was startin' to make a scene, and I didn't want the neighbors thinkin' I was keepin' a wild animal in here."
"No, that's on me," I said, setting the final dishes down. "I'm the one who asked you to help with the Pleiades' training, and then Sunday went and picked a fight. Sister, I'm sorry you got dragged into it, too."
Creek offered a serene, dimpled smile. "Please, don't apologize. Honestly, it's been a while since I felt so relied upon. It made me quite happy."
"I-Is it... is it time yet...?"
The voice belonged to Oguri. She was staring at the table with the intensity of a predator, her eyes fixed on the feast.
"Oh, right! Sorry. Go ahead."
"Itadakimasu!"
The word had barely left her lips before she pounced. Like a massive, starving hound finally released from a 'stay' command, Oguri dove into the food. Her target was a thick, glistening slab of braised pork—kakuni. Normally, a piece that size was meant to be sliced and shared, but her hunger brooked no such etiquette.
The moment her teeth sank into the meat, the marbled fat yielded, the fibers unraveling like silk. Her eyes widened. The sweetness of the rendered fat, the salt-heavy richness of the dark glaze, and the pungent, crispy bite of fried garlic chips collided in a symphony of flavor.
She looked up at the ceiling, a single, muffled word of bliss escaping her: "...G'ood."
She couldn't hold back anymore. She grabbed her bowl and began shoveling rice into her mouth at a terrifying speed.
"Fwah! Th-Thish is amazing!"
"Hey! Don't go hoggin' the best bits, Oguri!" Tama barked, though she was already reaching for her own chopsticks. "I had my eye on that piece! And you—Rampage! You went way overboard with the portions again!"
"I've got plenty more sliced up over here," I said, gesturing to a side platter.
Tama paused, her chopsticks hovering. "...Oh. You do? Well then... I'll be havin' some!"
"I'm divin' in too!" Inari chimed in, her eyes sparkling as she took a bite. "Kaaah! God, this is incredible! How am I supposed to hold back on the rice with stuff this good on the table?!"
"Et tu, Inari?!" Tama cried, exasperated.
"Now, now," Creek said, playing the mediator as she calmly served herself. "There's plenty for everyone. Let's eat slowly. Oguri-san, please remember to chew."
"I'm... muf-f-wa-ing!"
"Swallow before you speak, ya glutton!"
This was a dinner party at my—Rampage's—home. The guests were the legends I owed so much to: Oguri Cap, Tamamo Cross, Super Creek, and Inari One. It was meant to be a simple 'thank you' meal for all the help they'd given my team, but thanks to Sunday's impulsive instigation of a makeshift "Legend Race," the schedule had been shot to pieces.
Oguri had been the hardest hit; her stomach had been growling for hours. I'd tried to hold her over with carrot sticks, but she'd polished off the entire stash in seconds and looked at me like I was trying to starve her.
"Still, you really put in the work," Inari said, looking over the spread. "The prep alone must've been a nightmare."
"It wasn't so bad," I replied. "Suzuka and the others stay over sometimes, so I've gotten used to cooking for a crowd."
In truth, the sheer volume Oguri required had made the shopping trip a feat of endurance. I'd only survived because the local shopkeepers, whom I'd become quite friendly with, offered to deliver the bulk of the heavy groceries. It was a stroke of luck I didn't take for granted.
"To think... every one of us here is enterin' the Legend Race for the middle distance," Tama mused. She looked like a fierce predator as she finally claimed a piece of pork, her expression sharp and intense—the look she wore on the track. But the second the meat hit her tongue, her face melted into a soft, "pretty" expression. "Uwaa, delicious!"
The shift was almost dizzying. I looked at her and realized how long it had been. Tama and I had been close since the entrance exams; she was, in a way, my oldest friend at Tracen Academy.
"Yeah," I said. "We've gone all-out in training, but this will be the first time we're truly facing each other in a real race."
"I really thought you'd join the Dream Trophy League," Tama continued. "But instead, you retired to become a Trainer... and now we've got the Finals and the Legend Race opening up."
"It really is wonderful, isn't it?" Creek added warmly.
"Running against the likes of Maruzensky or Katsuragi Ace..." Inari's eyes burned with a competitive fire. "There isn't a Girl alive whose blood wouldn't boil at the thought!"
"Mmf-sh-true!" Oguri agreed, her mouth still full.
"Chew your food!" Tama and Inari barked in unison.
For them, the Legend Race was pure excitement. It wasn't that racing against the likes of Rudolf didn't thrill them, but many of the "Legends" were from different generations or had retired before they ever had a chance to clash. These were the matchups of dreams, finally becoming a reality.
"I'm actually a little apprehensive," I admitted. "On top of the 'Eternal Three,' we've got the Emperor coming, too."
Tama nearly choked on her tea. "Hah?! You mean Rudolf? I thought she was stickin' to the Dream Trophy League!"
I knew Rudolf had expressed interest in the Legend Race, but she'd ultimately held back, fearing that if the President herself participated, the URA would lose all credibility. Instead, she'd been channeling that energy into frequent exhibition matches against Sunday.
"Ah—no, not that Emperor," I clarified.
Oguri swallowed a massive gulp of food and looked up, her expression uncharacteristically serious. "Then... which Emperor do you mean?"
"Do you know who the Derby winner was from the TTG generation?" I asked.
Creek tilted her head thoughtfully. "The generation of Tosho Boy, Ten Point, and Green Grass... the Derby winner back then was, if I recall..."
Inari's eyes widened. "Ah! You mean her!"
The "Three Pillars" (TTG) were the stars of that era, but sometimes people added a fourth letter to the acronym: TTGC.
The 'C' stood for Climb Kaiser.
She was the "Emperor" who had dared to challenge the legendary trio. In the Derby, her jockey—Takeyoshi Kaga—had spotted a psychological weakness in the favorite, Tosho Boy: the horse tended to flinch when another runner pressed too close to its flank. By utilizing a tactical "diagonal" movement that bordered on a foul, he blocked Tosho Boy's path and forced him out of rhythm, snatching the Derby victory.
Because of that aggressive, borderline-legal maneuver, a segment of the fans began calling her the "Criminal Emperor." She was branded a heel, yet she remained a consistent, popular powerhouse throughout her career.
"Oh, that Emperor," Tama said, her voice dropping an octave.
"People gave her a hard time with that 'Criminal' nickname," Inari said, "but that tactical positioning of hers was a work of art. I remember seeing the footage and nearly losing my mind. It was brilliant."
"I agree," Creek said. "I've never seen anyone with a better sense for maintaining—or seizing—the ideal position on the track."
"My Trainer used to say it all the time," Tama added. "If it's within the rules and you don't get disqualified, it's a valid tactic. Strategy is just the art of forcing your opponent into a situation they hate. It's only natural."
"I don't think it was cowardly at all," I said. "If anything, she was a formidable rival who knew exactly how to dismantle her opposition."
The Girl known as Climb Kaiser had faced a wave of backlash after her Derby win, but she and her Trainer had stood their ground.
I remembered the words from the records:
"I'll take that as a compliment," she had said back then. "No matter what you say, this victory is set in stone. We followed the rules, and the officials upheld the result. Strategy is about pressing an opponent's weakness. To criticize that is to criticize the very concept of competitive sport. Do you understand?"
Her Trainer had been just as blunt: "A true champion should be able to overcome any obstacle. If they couldn't, then this time, my Kaiser was simply the better runner. That's all there is to it."
Their sheer confidence had eventually silenced the critics. It helped that Tosho Boy herself had been a class act, admitting she'd been outplayed and even thanking Kaiser for exposing a weakness she needed to fix.
"The 'Emperor of the Ascent' is coming, huh?" Inari grinned, cracking her knuckles. "Now I'm really looking forward to this!"
"You heard her, Oguri! Creek! Inari!" Tama shouted, slamming her hand on the table. "Starting tomorrow, we're hitten' the tracks for real! I'm gonna win that Legend Race if it's the last thing I do!"
Creek giggled. "Fufu. It feels just like the old days when we were all competing, doesn't it?"
"Yes," Oguri said, her eyes burning with a quiet, blue flame. "And I don't plan on losing either."
The peaceful dinner had transformed into a war council. By the time the night was over, every scrap of food had been cleared—a silent testament to the hunger of the legends about to retake the stage.
Character Profile: Mejiro Crystal (Colt)
The 13th foal of Mejiro Rampage. Sired by the "Pitch Black Emperor," Symboli Kris S.
Inheriting the traits of both parents for better or worse, he was a late bloomer. He showed promise with 3rd-place finishes in the Satsuki Sho and the Derby, but always seemed to be missing that final "spark." Following his father's trajectory, he was given time to mature until the autumn. The results were staggering: he won the Kikuka Sho by a massive nine lengths. He later flowered into a true "Crystal Stayer," winning the Melbourne Cup and proving himself one of the finest long-distance runners in the Mejiro lineage.
Partnered with jockey Hiroo Sonobe, Crystal was known for his noble yet friendly temperament—a horse that brought a sense of calm to those around him. Sonobe praised him highly, stating he was a horse of the same caliber as Symboli Rudolf.
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