Chapter 86. Kikuka Sho Part 1
(I couldn't find the records and participants list. I only found the First and Second place of Kikuka Sho 1990. Other horses' name might be inaccurate)
With three weeks remaining before the Japan Cup, both Oguri Cap and Silence Suzuka had returned to full training.
Because Silence Suzuka could not leave Central Tracen Academy, Shuta An planned his days carefully—after arranging Oguri Cap's training each morning, he would drive to Central Tracen to personally oversee Suzuka's sessions.
Suzuka's race was scheduled half a month later than Oguri Cap's. Naturally, their training intensity and content could not be the same. Even so, when drafting plans for two Uma Musume simultaneously, Shuta An occasionally mixed up the arrangements.
Fortunately, he caught the mistakes during the second review.
"As expected—I really don't have the talent to train multiple Uma Musume at once," Shuta An muttered, rubbing his eyes in quiet self-mockery.
After finalizing Silence Suzuka's plan, he took a quick bath and went straight to bed.
Knowing that Shuta An had entered full work mode, neither Oguri Cap nor Berno Light came to disturb him that night. As a result, the young man fell asleep almost instantly.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself seated in the jockeys' lounge at Kyoto Racecourse.
Today was Kikuka Sho day—exactly the same as in the real world.
"In the real Kikuka Sho, Matikanefukukitaru won—but the Dream World always differs in subtle ways," Shuta An thought quietly. "Fukukitaru doesn't exist among my opponents here. If so, could this Dream World be some kind of prophecy for reality?"
He sat in his chair, thinking in silence. Since he had not received a riding commission for the first race, there was no need for him to head to the paddock early like other jockeys, such as Nishiura Katsukazu.
"Besides, the opening race is on dirt," he reflected. "Mr. Ohara only arranged turf mounts for me today—he wants me fully focused on grass."
Shuta An smiled wryly and shook his head.
"Though to be fair, today's dirt races are all Maiden and One-Win Class events. There aren't many promising horses anyway. Still—I should ask him to line up more mounts next time. After moving, my finances are tight again."
The Kikuka Sho was the tenth race of the day—and the fifth turf race.
After winning the previous four turf races, Shuta An already had a clear read on Kyoto's grass track conditions.
"It's raining, so everyone prefers the outer lanes. Logically, the inner turf is worse," he analyzed calmly. "But in the ninth race just now, I observed that the difference between inner and outer lanes was almost negligible. So there's no need to panic about McQueen drawing an inside gate."
He wiped his face with his own towel, steadied his breathing, and gathered his thoughts—allowing himself to face the impending battle with composure.
When it was time to head to the paddock, Shuta An stood up first. One by one, the other jockeys followed.
Walking behind him, Yutaka Take murmured quietly, "In just a few years—Ann-san has already become something like the leader of the Kansai jockeys."
Though Shuta An socialized almost exclusively with Yutaka Take and a handful of top Kansai jockeys—and barely exchanged words with many others—his strength and accomplishments were undeniable. That alone earned him genuine respect.
"It's a shame," Yutaka Take thought inwardly, "that Ann-san is riding a 'second-tier' Mejiro horse today—" (HUUUHH? McQueen SECOND TIER HORSE? Is it because McQueen didn't participate the three crown? Only allowance race until Kikuka Sho?)
After the passing of the old patriarch, the Mejiro family truly was not what it once had been. For a jockey of Ann-san's caliber, they should have offered their strongest contender.
"They really don't understand human relationships," Yutaka Take mused sourly. "If this were the Yoshida family at Shadai, they'd probably drag Sunday Silence out of the stallion barn just to let Ann-san ride."
Whether Sunday Silence could even run the Kikuka Sho was, of course, another matter entirely.
—
In the paddock, Shuta An met Mejiro McQueen's groom, Hayakawa Kiyotaka. With Hayakawa's assistance, he mounted smoothly. Perhaps due to the rain and the cool air, Mejiro McQueen's spirits were unusually high.
"His condition is even better than it was on Thursday," Shuta An said after confirming his state. "You've worked hard these past few days, Hayakawa-kun."
"This is my job," Hayakawa replied evenly. "And if McQueen wins a G1, I get a bonus too—so there's no need for praise."
His tone was calm, but Shuta An could hear the tension beneath it. After all, none of the horses Hayakawa had cared for had ever won a G1. If McQueen succeeded today, it would be his first taste of such glory.
And if the condition 'Japanese Classic Race' were added—
Shuta An himself had only one victory to his name.
Though he bore the title of "American Triple Crown Jockey," a feat even more demanding, among Japan's Classic Triple Crown races, the Kikuka Sho was the only one he had ever won. He had never captured the Satsuki Sho, nor the more prestigious Japanese Derby.
Meanwhile, Yutaka Take had won the Kikuka Sho two years earlier aboard Super Creek.
Despite his own achievements, Shuta An shared the same number of Classic victories as his rival. That reality—no matter the reasons—left a faint sense of embarrassment in his chest.
"But this time," Shuta An murmured softly, stroking Mejiro McQueen's hind neck, "I'm fully confident."
"The only condition is that you don't cause any trouble today—like you did back in May."
"This time, we'll run exactly as Trainer Ikee arranged—orthodox leading tactics."
He spoke quietly, almost as if confiding in McQueen himself. With the rain and the roar of the crowd as cover, he wasn't worried about his words being overheard.
What he didn't notice—was that the moment his words ended; Mejiro McQueen's eyes gleamed with an unmistakable light.
—
After Mejiro Dober and Agnes Digital finalized the theme for their club's joint publication for the upcoming winter Comiket and went to bed, she found herself unexpectedly dreaming again. It had been a long time since she last entered the Dream World she had first experienced in late spring.
"How long has it been since I last had a lucid dream—?" she wondered. "To think I'd reconnect like this—"
As she once more inhabited the body known as Mejiro McQueen in this world, her thoughts drifted freely.
"Did my subconscious really construct such a worldview—so similar, yet so different from reality? And why did I imagine myself as a Racehorse?"
She pondered quietly, suspended between dream and awareness, as the world unfolded around her once more.
As they entered the turf at Kyoto Racecourse, Shuta An immediately sensed a change beneath him.
Mejiro McQueen was excited.
"He really likes a heavy track," the young man thought, his confidence in today's G1 victory rising another notch.
Drawn into gate 2, Mejiro McQueen was loaded unusually early. Once she was settled inside the starting gate, Shuta An reached out through the rain and gently rubbed her neck, hoping to calm her—standing still for too long could easily make her restless and lead to trouble. (I use 'she' here-on in description, since she was Dober inside)
Yet to his surprise, Mejiro McQueen remained unnervingly quiet.
"He's not excited at all—" Shuta An whispered. "Could he be out of form once the race starts?"
Hearing this, Mejiro Dober rolled her eyes inwardly.
If I'm too excited, you complain. If I calm down, you get nervous. You're impossible to satisfy.
Almost instinctively, the body snorted and shivered lightly.
Now Shuta An finally relaxed. "That's more like it."
Mejiro Dober was left speechless. (Déjà vu?)
—
In gate 1, to Shuta An's right, stood Whitestone, ridden by Shibata Masato—an old veteran who had chased a Derby title for more than thirty years without success.
In gate 3, to his left, was AzumaEast, under Sugawara Yasuo—an unlucky rider who, more than a decade ago, had astonishingly won the Oka Sho, Oaks, Satsuki Sho, and Japanese Derby in a single year, only to see both of his main two-crown horses later crippled by injury.
Interestingly, Mejiro McQueen was only the fourth favorite today.
The top favorite was Mejiro Ryan. Second was Whitestone, to her right. Third was AzumaEast, to her left.
But in Shuta An's eyes, none of that mattered. Among the entire Kikuka Sho field, Mejiro McQueen was the strongest contender. No one else's long-distance ability could compare.
"After all—" he muttered inwardly, "I've seen that glaring 'A+' in long-distance aptitude on McQueen's panel."
Oguri Cap's A+ mile adaptability had crushed her rivals at Gulfstream Park. Mejiro McQueen's long-distance aptitude would surely be just as terrifying—if not more so.
—
The clack of the starting gates opening was softened by the rain, but Shuta An's concentration never wavered.
At the exact instant, he drove both hands forward against Mejiro McQueen's hind neck. With her basic racing instincts, Mejiro Dober burst forward the moment the gates flew open. Their coordination was flawless. Shuta An secured the lead cleanly.
And then—
A wild thought flickered through his mind.
Should I let her run a slow escape?
He immediately suppressed it.
"No," he told himself calmly. "Trainer Ikee and I agreed on orthodox senko tactics. I won't change the plan just because the break went perfectly."
He wasn't that reckless.
Decisively, Shuta An tightened the reins, signaling Mejiro McQueen to stop charging blindly—to ease off and settle.
Mejiro Dober understood at once and obediently slowed. If not for the fact that the man on her back had the same face as her own Trainer, she would never have been this cooperative.
Once McQueen was properly positioned within the leading group, Shuta An finally had the leisure to observe the race.
Whitestone, hugging the innermost rail, was being firmly restrained by Shibata Masato, clearly preparing a deep-closing strategy from the rear.
AzumaEast, meanwhile, was right beside Mejiro McQueen, running shoulder to shoulder—Sugawara's intentions matched Shuta An's exactly: secure a strong position near the front.
Because AzumaEast was further outside, Sugawara naturally had more room to interfere—blocking acceleration paths if needed.
Shuta An was well aware of it.
But only ten seconds had passed since the start. There was no need to react yet.
"This is a 3000-meter race," he murmured, gripping the reins firmly. "There's no rush."
Mejiro Dober knew that as well. To be honest, despite being a member of the Mejiro family, she understood her own limitations better than anyone.
I'm not suited for long distances—I didn't inherit the family's best stamina.
Her weakness in long-distance races had long been known within the family. Still, her explosive burst made her a highly anticipated prospect. And of course, she had once dreamed of standing on the Kikuka Sho and Spring Tenno Sho stages herself—chasing the glory the Mejiro family so desperately desired.
"So that's why I'm having such a lucid dream," she finally realized. "No wonder the name and face of my partner are exactly the same as Trainer's."
She snorted softly and continued to savor the sensation of competing in a long-distance race—if only within a dream.
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