Recently, Sunday Silence had begun noticing something odd about her body.
"Every time I wake up, I feel exhausted like I ran a whole race in my dreams," she muttered, rubbing her eyes in annoyance.
But she didn't dwell on it. After her victory in the San Felipe Stakes, her Trainer had already entered her in the Santa Anita Derby—an 1800-meter prep race for the Kentucky Derby, held at the same Santa Anita Park. If everything went smoothly, she would win this Derby and stand proudly on the starting line at the Kentucky Derby in early May.
"The American Triple Crown—I must challenge it!" Her background was nothing special. Before winning the San Felipe Stakes, no one at West Coast Tracen Academy considered her a legitimate contender for the Triple Crown. Even now, though her name finally appeared in discussions, most students still believed the strongest candidate wasn't her, but the East Coast's shining prodigy.
"Easy Goer…" She whispered the name in her heart—a superstar who had already taken two Grade 1 victories last year: the Cowdin Stakes and the Champagne Stakes. Compared to her, a mere G2 winner, the difference in prestige was staggering.
But Sunday Silence never bowed before a race.
"I don't plan on losing to her. Before anything else, I have to earn my place in the Kentucky Derby."
After washing up, she quickly finished breakfast, changed into sportswear, and headed to the training grounds to begin preparations for the Santa Anita Derby.
Meanwhile, Shuta An had no idea what Sunday Silence was up to. After seeing Oguri Cap and Berno Light off to the research institute and returning to his apartment, he booted up his computer.
"Even though Uma Musume races are different from the Dream World, I can still analyze Sunday Silence's real-world races. There should be habits or patterns I can use later."
He said it—and he meant it. For the next few days, he fully immersed himself in Sunday Silence studies. By the end, he had practically earned a "Sunday Silence Professional Research Graduate Degree."
He didn't hide it either. Oguri Cap and Berno Light saw everything.
"One thing I don't get—" Oguri Cap grumbled one morning. "I'm not running in the American Triple Crown, so why does Ann need to research opponents so seriously?"
"This isn't for Oguri," Shuta An replied, raising a brow. "Symboli Rudolf wanted me to evaluate the Classic generation at Central Tracen Academy. I turned her down because I felt they weren't as strong as your generation. Since I have free time now, I'm checking whether my judgement of Sunday Silence was off."
"So it's a self-amusement experiment?" Berno Light said.
"Exactly." Shuta An laughed. "Everyone at West Coast Tracen Academy underestimates Sunday Silence, but I think she's going to surprise them."
"Surprise them—like I surprised everyone last year?" Oguri Cap's eyes sparkled.
"I'm not guaranteeing anything, but I have a good feeling." Shuta An shrugged. "Although the Belmont Stakes will be tough for her, I'm very optimistic about the first two legs."
"So confident?" Berno Light blinked. "At the research institute, everyone seemed convinced Easy Goer would sweep the series."
Shuta An wagged his finger dramatically. "Berno, just tell them: I predict Sunday Silence will win at least the first leg—the Kentucky Derby."
"All right. I'll tell them—if it comes up again." Berno Light nodded obediently.
The research he gathered during the day was put to use in the Dream World at night.
"Shuta, your adaptability is impressive. Sunday Silence acclimated to your saddle changes in just a few days." Charlie E. Wittingham's assistant marvelled at the young man sitting steadily atop Sunday Silence. "You'd absolutely become a top jockey in Japan."
"I've only been doing this for less than three years," Shuta An replied, reins in one hand as he waved the other. "I still have a long way to go before reaching that level."
"Even so," the assistant smiled, "I believe you and Sunday Silence can achieve the accomplishments a top jockey would dream of."
"I'll take that blessing—and I'll work hard for it," Shuta An said earnestly. Beneath him, Sunday Silence also nodded vigorously, as if agreeing with every word.
In the Dream World, his schedule mirrored the real one: the Santa Anita Derby, then hopefully the Kentucky Derby. But because he had been defeated by Shuta An in their previous Dream World race, his popularity had plummeted. Reporters and experts favored Flying Continental—who now had a top American jockey—while Sunday Silence, with his "weaker" jockey, was only ranked the third favorite.
"There's less than a week left—I must win with Sunday Silence. I have to secure our ticket to the Kentucky Derby." Shuta An muttered this as he guided him through morning exercises.
For Sunday Silence's entire camp, the Santa Anita Derby was a battle they could not afford to lose. And for Shuta An, the pressure was immense. He was Yoshida Zenya's appointed main jockey. If they failed to qualify, the damage to Sunday Silence's value—and Yoshida Zenya's expectations—would be severe.
"If he doesn't make it into the Triple Crown—" His grip on the reins tightened.
"it'll deal a blow to his stud value. I was the one who recommended Sunday Silence—so I have to ensure he proves his worth."
The weight pressed down on his shoulders, heavier than before.
April 8 — Daytime
Shuta An spent the day accompanying Oguri Cap to the research institute, where they once again met Dr. Grace. The doctor already seemed aware of Shuta An's recent interest in Sunday Silence.
"To be honest, I don't think Sunday Silence is truly a match for Easy Goer," Dr. Grace said bluntly. "If you haven't watched Easy Goer's races, Shuta, you should. Once you do, you'll understand how wide the gap is between them."
"People are hypocritical creatures," Shuta An replied with a shrug. "Since I support Sunday Silence, I'll say something like, 'Past races are just the past. Until they meet head-on, we can't claim Easy Goer will definitely win.'"
"If it were a slightly weaker Uma Musume challenging Oguri Cap, you'd immediately say, 'Oguri Cap won't lose to someone weaker than herself,' wouldn't you?" Dr. Grace shot him a sidelong glare.
"Pretty much," he admitted without hesitation. "Anyway, today's race determines whether Sunday Silence gets into the Kentucky Derby. Let's just wait and see."
"Then shall we watch the live broadcast together later?" Dr. Grace raised a brow, as if challenging him.
Shuta An nodded. "Sure. I predict Sunday Silence will crush the field and take the ticket easily."
"I suppose that's possible—" Dr. Grace's lips twitched. "Then how about we make it interesting? Let's guess the winning margin. I'll say within three lengths. She only beat Flying Continental by a little over one length last time, so I doubt she'll win by much more."
"Then I'll go bold," Shuta An grinned. "Sunday Silence wins by ten lengths."
"A G1 blowout?" Dr. Grace's eyes widened. "Shuta, that's way too unrealistic!"
"Well, since there's nothing at stake, it's fine to exaggerate," he replied lightly.
Dr. Grace had no comeback for that.
Night — The Weight of Reality
That night, as he lay in bed, Shuta An couldn't help groaning.
"I shouldn't have watched that race—"
Sunday Silence hadn't lost—she had dominated. And with that performance, West Coast Tracen Academy had silently reached a consensus:
"If anyone can challenge Easy Goer, it's Sunday Silence."
"In the Dream World too. I have to make him win. Win beautifully." Muttering to himself, he closed his eyes—and the Dream World embraced him.
Santa Anita Park
The moment his consciousness settled, Shuta An found himself already astride Sunday Silence, his gait bouncing beneath him as they trotted onto the dirt course of Santa Anita Park. This Santa Anita Derby was one hundred meters longer than the previous race, but Shuta An felt no anxiety.
"After what he did today, all I need is to follow that rhythm and we'll get the result we want."
Meanwhile, in the owner's box, Yoshida Zenya and his companions watched with stiff shoulders. With only one month left until the Kentucky Derby, losing here would all but eliminate Sunday Silence's chance to enter the first leg of the Triple Crown. And if that happened—his already fragile stud value might collapse entirely.
"You must win, Shuta-kun" Yoshida Zenya's heartbeat hammered painfully. Even if purchasing Sunday Silence hadn't cost much, it would sting deeply if everything ended in waste.
The owner box wasn't theirs alone; owners of the other entrants were also present. Sunday Silence's previous stumble in a G2 had branded him as inconsistent, leaving him as the third favorite while Flying Continental topped the charts.
Eavesdropping unintentionally, Yoshida Zenya heard the others' chatter—none of them favored Sunday Silence. Most blamed the sudden change of jockey, while Flying Continental's rider was considered far stronger.
"He really is being underestimated, Shuta-kun…" Yoshida narrowed his eyes toward the young man sitting so calmly atop Sunday Silence.
By coincidence, Flying Continental's jockey today was Valentino. In other words—this Santa Anita Derby was yet another showdown between Shuta An and Valentino after their partner swap.
Valentino wasn't underestimating him this time. Not at all.
"I'll mark him. I won't give that Asian any opening. I'll prove the problem wasn't me in the last race."
If he lost today—if Shuta An could defeat him no matter which horse he rode—the implication would be unbearable for a top American jockey. For his part, Shuta An had no intention of experimenting. Having seen how easily Sunday Silence won during the day, he murmured:
"I'll open a gap the same way as before. The only improvement will be choosing a better route."
The Gates
A few minutes later, he and Sunday Silence entered gate number 4. Only six horses were competing—no need to worry about position.
Click!
The gate sprang open.
Shuta An, fully prepared, pushed immediately. After confirming he wouldn't be boxed in by gates 3 and 5, he eased off and let Sunday Silence settle into his natural pace.
Temperamental though he was, the discipline from Shuta An and his assistants had made him obedient. Without instructions, he didn't bolt forward; instead, he comfortably settled behind the two front-runners, slipping into their wake just as he had in his first victory.
Shuta An felt Valentino's stare boring into his back—but ignored it. He even took the time to stroke Sunday Silence's mane, calming him so he wouldn't react to the pressure.
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