"Is this your grand design, Mejiro Rampage?"
"Care to be more specific?"
Rampage, lounging comfortably in the trainers' stands, didn't even look up as the voice addressed her. The question was pointed, aimed directly at her true motives for spearheading the URA Finals.
"Are you trying to blur the lines between Central and the Regions? Is this some convoluted plot to stage a hostile takeover of the URA itself?"
"Wow," Rampage drawled, finally glancing at him. "If that's a joke, it's a bad one. You should work on your material; my abs aren't going to crack for a routine that weak."
"I am asking you seriously!" the trainer barked.
"Then start asking serious questions."
The man was a quintessential Central Trainer. He had clawed his way through the grueling certification exams, served his time as a sub-trainer, and managed a respectable stable of girls. He'd never touched a G1 trophy—his ceiling had been the occasional G3 win—but he took immense pride in the "Central" brand.
"It's true that the Central girls in these Finals aren't graded stakes winners," he conceded, his voice tight. "But look at the results! When the public sees this, they aren't going to care about brackets. They're just going to call Central 'negligent.'"
"Then Central should do better," Rampage said simply. "The Finals were a flash announcement. The bureaucrats who schedule the heavy hitters assumed their girls wouldn't be eligible, and honestly, we didn't expect the high-tier talent to show up yet either. We figured the big names would migrate over next year. This year was always going to be an experiment."
"So... this outcome was within your expectations?"
"You make me sound like some puppet master," she smirked. "I prefer to think of myself as a woman of pure, unblemished intentions."
"I can think of a dozen people who would testify otherwise," a voice muttered from nearby.
"Nyahaha! High praise!"
In truth, Rampage had predicted that G1 and graded stakes winners would avoid the first year. For a girl already dominating the Twinkle Series, the Finals offered high risk and low reward. This stage belonged to the regional stars and the "unpolished gems" from ordinary schools.
"Think about it," Rampage continued. "If a Central G1 winner showed up here, everyone would just ask what she's doing slumming it. This is about talent scouting and mending fences with the regional circuits. If they want to see the gods, they can watch the Legend Races."
"Exactly," Kamimizuru chimed in. "Oguri Cap and Inari One are already slated for the Legend bracket. This divisional stuff is for the next generation."
"Exactly. This should be a wake-up call," Rampage said. "Central needs to start talking to the Regions, and the Regions need to stop acting like victims and start building better local support. If someone looks at these results and says 'Central sucks,' they're missing the point. The real story is that the gap was only ever an illusion maintained by people too proud to look over the fence."
She turned her gaze toward the track. "Now, hush. The Dirt final is starting. This is the one I've been waiting for."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"Because," Rampage's eyes flashed with anticipation, "Oguri-senpai's greatest rival is out there."
The surrounding trainers stirred in surprise, but one man simply smiled—Trainer Kitahara. He nudged the man sitting next to him.
"Hear that, Shibazaki? They're talking about your girl."
Trainer Shibazaki adjusted his glasses, a faint trace of pride crossing his face. "Coming from her... that's quite the compliment."
『The final event of the URA Finals: The Dirt Division, 1800 meters. The gates are closed... and—they're off!』
『An explosive start! Rocketing out of the gate and seizing the lead is the pride of Kasamatsu: Fujimasa March! She's claimed the front and she looks determined to keep it!』
Indeed, Oguri Cap wasn't the only one who had traveled from Kasamatsu to make a name for herself. While Oguri was set for the Legend Race, Fujimasa March—the very first girl to ever stand as Oguri's equal—had fought her way through the Dirt brackets to stand here today.
(Watch me, Oguri... Watch how I run!)
Dirt was the lifeblood of regional racing; the gap in quality between Central and the Regions was usually reversed here. Yet, March felt a prickle of unease from the shadow looming behind her.
『Hot on her heels is Darley Japan from Chiba! She won her qualifiers with a staggering lead, coming from behind to crush the field. This time, however, she's chosen to shadow March directly!』
『She's from a general school, so her aptitude was a mystery,』 the commentator noted, 『but look at that stride! She's a natural on the sand!』
"I thought I'd try racing like that person for once," Darley Japan whispered to herself, a predatory grin on her face. "I have to say... I like the view from up here."
『Three lengths back, we have Tsukino Ichiban from Ohi and Magnum Leon from Himeji. Central's Smash Wolf and Regalia Road are struggling to keep pace, followed by Milgamane from Fukui!』
『Bringing up the rear is Thalassa Gyro, also from Chiba. She's in a prime position to strike!』
March held the lead, but Darley Japan was a persistent ghost, hovering just over her shoulder. March tried to shake her with a subtle shift in tempo, but the girl responded instantly, correcting her balance with terrifying efficiency.
(This girl... she's more dangerous than Oguri was back then!)
March's instincts, honed over countless battles, were screaming. Darley Japan was a raw, instinctive genius. She lacked experience, but her ceiling was limitless. Still, March refused to flinch. Every race she had run, every lung-bursting sprint in the Kasamatsu dirt, had led to this moment. She wouldn't let it be for nothing.
『They hit the 1000m mark at 59.1 seconds! Can Fujimasa March hold on? She carries the hopes of Kasamatsu on her shoulders! As they round the third corner, Thalassa Gyro is making her move from the back! But look—the Ohi assassin is coming too! Tsukino Ichiban is charging! Magnum Leon is in the mix! Can March survive the onslaught!?』
『We're at the fourth corner! Darley Japan is accelerating! She's looking to blow past!』
"This is incredible!" Darley Japan laughed, the sheer joy of the hunt fueling her. "I think I'll take the lead now!"
She pulled alongside March, but the Kasamatsu girl was a wall. March expertly squeezed the inner rail, forcing Darley Japan to either check her momentum or swing wide into the heavy, uncompacted sand.
"I won't let you..." March hissed. "I... I am—"
—I'm going to Central with you. So... let's show them what Kasamatsu can do.
—Of course. I am Oguri Cap, representative of Kasamatsu.
"I won't break my promise!"
『The final straight! Darley Japan is blocked! She can't find a way through! Tsukino Ichiban, Thalassa Gyro, and Magnum Leon have swarmed the front, boxing her in! Darley is forced to drop back—she's trying to swing to the extreme outside! But Fujimasa March is still there! NO! TSUKINO ICHIBAN! The girl from Ohi is surging!』
"I shine... therefore, I am peerless!" Tsukino Ichiban roared. She ran with a desperate, burning intensity, as if she were willing to turn her very soul into kinetic energy.
March felt the gap closing. Her lungs were screaming, her legs felt like lead. For a split second, she thought she reached her limit. Then, her eyes drifted to the stands. There, amidst the thousands of faces, she saw her. Oguri Cap wasn't cheering; she was simply watching, her silver hair catching the light, her eyes expectant.
(—!!)
『FUJIMASA MARCH IS FINDING ANOTHER GEAR! She was hiding a reserve! She's fighting back! Tsukino Ichiban is coming—the 'Full Moon' of Ohi is rising! Is it Kasamatsu!? Is it Ohi!? WHO WANTS IT MORE!?』
They crossed the line in a blur of dust and spray. The sound of thunderous hooves echoed in March's head, replaced suddenly by the roar of the crowd.
『FUJIMASA MARCH!! The representative of Kasamatsu has snatched victory at the wire! Second place goes to Tsukino Ichiban, third to Thalassa Gyro, fourth to Smash Wolf, and fifth to Darley Japan!』
March couldn't hear the rest. She stared up at the leaderboard, her chest heaving, waiting for the electronic numbers to confirm what her heart already knew.
1st: No. 5 – Fujimasa March.
A nose. She had won by a nose.
"I won... I actually won..." she wheezed. She looked toward the stands again. Oguri Cap was standing now, a small, rare smile on her face as she nodded in acknowledgement.
The weight of the struggle, the years of chasing that silver shadow—it all felt worth it in that single moment. March's legs gave out, and she sank into the dirt, a sob of relief escaping her.
"I did it..."
"I told you," Rampage said, her voice soft with satisfaction. "Oguri-san knows how to pick 'em."
"A magnificent race," Kamimizuru agreed.
"Yeah..." Rampage stood up, stretching her sore limbs.
The divisional races were over. The first URA Finals had successfully unearthed the hidden strength of the regional circuits and the raw potential of the "General" students. It was a triumph.
But for Rampage, the real excitement was just beginning. Tomorrow was the Legend Race. After seeing such a display of heart, her own blood was boiling. She left the stands, her body trembling not with cold, but with a desperate, all-consuming need to run.
The 1st URA Finals
Inaugural Dirt Champion: Fujimasa March
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