As the party hit its stride, Teio didn't waste a second. She lunged through the crowd, practically tackling another Horse Girl in a jubilant hug. The girl was striking, wearing a red silk hat that perfectly complemented her rented dress. With sharp, elegant features and a sleek dark-bay side-tail, her identity clicked into place immediately. I had memorized the guest list, after all.
"Yo, Teio! You seem to be having the time of your life."
"Ah, Ran! Let me introduce you! This is my friend, Cedar Blade!"
"T-Teio!? M-Mejiro Rampage-san!?" The girl, Cedar, stiffened into a salute, her face flushing. "It is an absolute... an utter... an extreme honor to be invited to this gala, ma'am!"
"Easy there, kid. Don't go putting me on a pedestal," I said with a casual wink. "I'm just a trainer. If you're going to get that formal, save it for when I'm actually trying to scout you, alright?"
My playfulness seemed to work; the tension bled out of her shoulders, replaced by a shy, tentative smile. Cedar Blade. In another life—or perhaps just another story—she might have been a mere stand-in for the elite, but in this world, she was standing right here. And to my surprise, she was a genuine friend of Teio's.
"I still can't believe it, Cedar!" Teio beamed, her eyes shining. "To think you entered the Finals and fought your way into the main draw! That's incredible!"
"It's... it's not that big a deal," Cedar murmured, looking down at her shoes. "Compared to you, Teio—shining like a star in Central—I'm nothing special. We're worlds apart."
"That's not true!"
Teio's voice was firm. She reached out and grabbed Cedar's hands, gripping them with a strength that caught the other girl by surprise.
"Cedar, you got here on your own. You didn't have the elite path handed to you; you clawed your way up because you worked for it. That's something I could never do! You're here because you're Cedar Blade, and you earned your spot! So be proud of yourself! If you won't brag about it, I'll do it for you!"
"Teio..."
"I'm going to tell everyone how amazing my friend is!"
Teio was like the sun in that moment—radiant, warm, and utterly blinding. Looking at that "Full Bloom" smile, Cedar looked as though her own insecurities were being burned away. She had once given up on the elite academies because the gap in talent felt like an unbridgeable chasm, but now, that choice felt like a lifetime ago.
"Fine," Cedar laughed, her voice gaining strength. "Then I'll tell everyone too. That my friend is the greatest Horse Girl in the world!"
"Heck yeah! Shout it from the rooftops! After all, I'm the Undefeated Triple Crown Champion!"
"And yet," I interjected smoothly, "you still lost to me."
"WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT NOW!?" Teio wailed in a high-pitched screech.
Cedar and I both burst into laughter. It was a cheap shot, sure, but it shattered the last of the formal atmosphere. Teio began pummelling my chest with her "poka-poka" soft punches, pouting and demanding to know why I had to ruin her moment. It was a peaceful, domestic scene amidst the high-society glamour.
"Mejiro Rampage-san," Cedar said, her expression turning earnest again. "Because of your Finals, I found my passion for racing again. I truly, deeply thank you."
"Then show me that gratitude on the track," I replied, patting her shoulder. "Test your strength against the best in the country. And if you've got the guts... climb all the way up to the Legend Race and face me."
"I will!"
Watching her confident nod, I gave Teio a thumbs-up—you've got a good friend there—and slipped away to let them catch up. Teio immediately grabbed Cedar's hand to drag her toward the Hachimie fountain, eager to share her favorite obsession.
"Aha. So I finally get to meet you in the flesh. It's an honor."
I turned toward the voice and felt a sudden, sharp jolt of déjà vu. I had seen this woman before—in a dream on a flight to Dubai. No, it wasn't her exactly. The eyes were different. This girl had reddish-bay hair, dark eyes, and a grounded, quintessentially Japanese presence. Her name was—
"Darley Japan. I hope the party meets your expectations?"
The girl blinked, looking genuinely surprised. "I'm impressed. You actually know my name? I'm just an ordinary girl from a public school; I didn't think I'd be on your radar."
"Ordinary? Don't sell yourself short. Not after the way you ran."
Darley Japan. She hailed from a general school in Chiba, but her performance in the qualifiers had been nothing short of terrifying. She claimed to have no formal race experience, yet she had left the field in the dust with a divine, untouchable ease. Looking at her, I couldn't help but wonder if she was truly "God-blessed"—a living echo of one of the Three Goddesses.
"I hear you're aiming for the dirt tracks," I noted.
"Yeah. I like the feel of it better," she said with a shrug. "I tried the turf, and I can run it well enough, but my heart isn't in it."
"Good grief," I sighed. "Running 'well enough' on turf when you're a dirt specialist... the world is just full of monsters, isn't it?"
"You're making me blush," she chuckled.
"Darley! Don't hog the conversation! Let us talk to her too!"
"Exactly! I want to talk to the 'cute' Rampage-san! ♪"
"Cute? Who are you calling—"
Two more Horse Girls popped out from behind Darley. One was a beautiful "Obana" chestnut like myself; the other had wavy brown hair and striking heterochromatic eyes—one chestnut, one black. To my immense annoyance, the latter was the one who had called me "cute." Granted, she was taller than me, but still...
"Let me guess... Rabbit Parabellum and Hitchaki Leap?"
"Yes! I'm so happy you recognized us!" the brown-haired one, Hitchaki, chirped.
"Wow... you really are cute... ♪"
"Hey! Stop petting my head!"
Before I could react, Hitchaki was actually stroking my hair. My brain struggled to process the sensation. Where is the 'cute' element here? I wondered. She didn't have the sharp, predatory aura of Flora; instead, she had a soft, maternal warmth that reminded me uncomfortably of Super Creek. She wasn't mocking me—she was genuinely, purely adoring me. Why me?
"Alright, that's enough," I said, stepping back to reclaim my dignity. "I have an image to maintain, you know. Any more head-pats and I'm charging a fee."
"How much?" Hitchaki asked, reaching for her purse.
"Don't actually try to pay me!"
"Aww, sorry~!"
"Just... whatever. Don't worry about it," I grumbled, smoothing my hair. I turned to the other one. "And you, Rabbit Parabellum. You've become quite the celebrity, you know."
"I have?" Rabbit asked, her ears perking up.
"Yeah. Everyone's talking about the girl who literally cannot turn a corner to save her life."
Rabbit's face fell into a look of pure "oh, boy." Hailing from the Kochi Tracen district, she was a demon on the straightaways—fast enough to outrun anyone—but her cornering was catastrophically bad. I'd seen the footage. She didn't so much "turn" as she did "drift violently toward the outer rail while scraping against it."
The fans had already given her a nickname.
『RABBIT!!!』
『TURN, DAMN IT, TURN!!!』
『She's doing it! She's hitting the outer rail and forcing the turn! The "Straight-Line Boss" has made it to the home stretch!』
The announcers were basically treating her like a runaway train. I couldn't decide if she was a tragic comedy or a literal force of nature. One thing was certain: my Finals had attracted the weirdest, most concentrated group of eccentric talents I'd ever seen.
"Heh," Darley Japan chuckled. "It's going to be a colorful race, don't you think?"
"Honestly? I'm starting to get worried about the insurance premiums for the track," I muttered.
"Are you okay?" Hitchaki asked, leaning in again. "Do you want another head-pat?"
"You just want an excuse to pet me, don't you!?"
Historical Note: Mejiro Rampage After Retirement
In her golden years, Mejiro Rampage lived for the days when her children and grandchildren would return to the farm for their seasonal breaks. She was widely regarded as a deeply affectionate mother and grandmother, beloved by her entire lineage.
However, there was one recurring problem: "Spontaneous Racing." Whenever the younger generations gathered for a "rest," their competitive instincts would inevitably flare up. A quiet afternoon would suddenly transform into a high-stakes gallop across the paddocks.
While the farm staff worried that the horses weren't actually "resting," Rampage herself seemed to thrive on it. Observers noted that whenever a race broke out among her kin, the old "Tyrant" would look younger than ever, her spirits soaring as she led the charge.
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