Chapter 92. The Japan Cup That Didn't Happen
As Oguri Cap emerged from the underground passage with her suitcase in hand, Shuta An had just concluded his interview.
He stepped forward naturally, taking the suitcase from the gray-haired Uma Musume. "Let's go. Dober-chan and her friend will be attending today's celebration party as well."
"Is that so?" Oguri Cap lifted an eyebrow slightly. "If it's Dober-chan's friend, then that's fine."
"I wouldn't let anyone troublesome get close to Oguri," Shuta An replied calmly. Carrying the suitcase, he moved ahead. "Come on. I'll stay with you for two more days. The day after tomorrow, I'll be heading to Hong Kong."
Inside the underground passage, the Tokyo Racecourse staff demonstrated remarkable discretion. No one stepped forward to seize the rare opportunity for an autograph or a photograph. From a respectful distance, they quietly granted the pair their private space.
"Ann," Oguri Cap suddenly asked, "do you think Suzuka can win?"
"The Hong Kong International Cup?" Shuta An paused, momentarily taken aback. Then, before the one person he trusted completely, he spoke frankly.
"To be honest—it'll be very difficult. The Uma Musume in Hong Kong are strong. Even in middle-distance races—which aren't their specialty—it would be hard for Silence Suzuka to win with her current level. Still, she already has a G1 victory in the Secretariat Stakes. Even if she loses this time, it won't affect her chances of entering top-tier races in Japan next year."
"So you're planning to have Suzuka focus on domestic races next year?" Oguri Cap's ears flicked lightly. "It's rare for you to decide against sending one of your trainees overseas in the same year."
"If the conditions are right, I'll arrange an expedition," Shuta An said with a helpless smile. "But Suzuka's adaptability to heavy tracks is poor—Europe in summer is out. The miscellaneous G1 races in America aren't worth the risk, and the only valuable one, the Sword Dancer Stakes, is a 2400-meter turf race. I can't exactly send her to Canada for that. By autumn, staying domestic and running G1 races is the safer choice—especially since Oguri won't be competing in the Twinkle Series next year."
"Speaking of heavy tracks," Oguri Cap said after a brief silence, smoothly shifting the topic, "didn't Ann mention that Teio adapts very well to them?"
"Yes," Shuta An nodded. "That's what makes it strange. Based on her gait, she shouldn't perform so well on heavy ground. The only explanation is that Teio's strength-type talent is exceptionally strong."
Though his words praised Tokai Teio, his expression grew solemn.
"Ann looks worried," Oguri Cap observed. Seeing no one nearby, she leaned a little closer, the faint scent of shower gel becoming clearer. "Is there something troubling you? Maybe I can help."
Shuta An held her right wrist gently with his free hand and shook his head. "I do have concerns. I'm worried that Teio's body won't be able to keep up with her talent, leading to injuries. That's why I've always told her not to participate in Academy races casually, and to limit how often she runs at full power. At the very least, she must not get injured before her Full Bloom Stage (Honkakuka)."
"Otherwise, she'll become even more injury-prone in the future. If she ends up as a regular at the hospital—even the greatest talent would be hard to turn into real strength."
"Then," Oguri Cap asked quietly, "what kind of Uma Musume do you think Teio would become if she fully realized her abilities?"
This time, Shuta An did not answer immediately.
As he led her toward the floor where the VIP boxes were located, he finally spoke. "If she reaches her full potential—I think she could threaten your position."
"Whoa…" Oguri Cap covered her mouth, astonishment clear in her eyes. "That's an incredibly high evaluation."
She was no longer the country Uma Musume she once was. Oguri Cap understood very well that even if she were to lose the Arima Kinen, her status as Japan's undisputed greatest would remain unshaken. And Shuta An's words implied that Tokai Teio possessed the talent to stand at that same height.
"Ann thinks that highly of Teio~" she murmured.
"But no matter what," Shuta An said, patting his chest, "Oguri is still number one here—for me."
After entering the box and meeting the three Uma Musume, Shuta An guided them to the family restaurant he had reserved.
"Wow…" Agnes Digital's eyes widened as she watched Oguri Cap eat with her own eyes. Though Central Tracen Academy had no shortage of big eaters, none immediately came to mind who matched Oguri Cap.
She glanced sideways at Mejiro Dober, curious about her reaction.
Mejiro Dober quietly enjoyed the barley tea served by the restaurant. The quality was far inferior to the tea prepared by the Mejiro family, yet she unexpectedly felt an atmosphere reminiscent of tea parties with her elder sisters in the garden of their ancestral home.
"As expected of Dober-sensei—completely unfazed. Or maybe she's seen this before?" Agnes Digital's thoughts raced.
As for Berno Light, she was the busiest person at the table—eating while keeping a careful eye on Oguri Cap.
Nothing special occurred during the celebration. After a peaceful dinner, the young trainer first dropped Mejiro Dober and Agnes Digital at the station, then returned to pick up Oguri Cap and Berno Light and head home.
"If we're going to Hong Kong, what should we prepare?" Berno Light began planning as soon as they got into the car.
"Just bring a few changes of clothes," Shuta An replied as he started the engine and drove out of the parking lot. "Nothing else is needed—just one formal suit. There's a banquet during the draw, so casual wear won't do."
"Once Suzuka wins the Hong Kong International Cup, and Oguri wins the Arima Kinen, we'll combine the celebration parties!" Berno Light lifted her head excitedly. "We'll do it at home—and I'll show off my cooking!"
"Alright, alright~" Shuta An responded lightly. Though he wasn't confident about Silence Suzuka's results in Hong Kong, he couldn't bring himself to dampen Berno Light's enthusiasm.
Only Oguri Cap—who already knew the truth—let out a silent sigh.
"Silence Suzuka—you have to do your best," the gray Uma Musume murmured softly.
Late at night, after completing all preparations for the Hong Kong expedition, Shuta An took a brief shower and went to bed.
Tonight, he would challenge the Japan Cup in the Dream World.
As his dream-world friend had warned him before, in order to prevent Shuta An and Oguri Cap from accomplishing the great feat of surpassing the Emperor, Yukio Okabe would undoubtedly exhaust every means to target the two of them.
Yet Shuta An felt no anxiety.
On one hand, he trusted Oguri Cap's ability absolutely. On the other, Yukio Okabe would be riding Yaeno Muteki this time—a Racehorse who had barely managed a sixth-place finish in the Japan Cup during the day, nearly overtaken by Belmez in seventh before the line.
"No matter what," Shuta An thought calmly, "as long as I do my job properly, I won't let Yukio Okabe get his way."
However, once he mounted Oguri Cap in the parade ring, the young man frowned.
Something was wrong.
Oguri Cap's condition today was clearly inferior.
Shuta An quickly suppressed his expression, lowered his head, tilted it slightly, and focused intently on observing her gait.
"This isn't right," he murmured.
The words reached Assistant Ikee's ears.
He turned toward Shuta An at once. "Shuta-kun, what's the matter?"
"Don't you think Oguri Cap's gait is off?" Shuta An answered frankly. "His responsiveness feels far worse than it was during the Autumn Tenno Sho."
"Shuta-kun already knows, don't you?" Assistant Ikee replied quietly. "Oguri Cap has been continuously filmed during his Japan Cup preparation, hasn't he?"
Shuta An froze. "Aren't they only filming during working hours?"
"No." Assistant Ikee sighed heavily. "After we leave, the TV station's cameramen continue filming in shifts. Nearly twenty-four hours a day."
"What are they doing?!" Shuta An's eyes widened, his voice erupting so loudly that even spectators outside the parade ring turned their heads.
"We explicitly told them filming after hours was prohibited," Assistant Ikee said helplessly. "We never expected them to sneak in secretly. We only discovered it yesterday. We couldn't reach you, and we were worried it would affect your mindset, so we kept silent. I'm…very sorry."
Shuta An clenched his teeth and jumped straight off the saddle.
After landing firmly, he turned back to Assistant Ikee. "Please have Ikee-kun call the Tokyo Racecourse veterinarian. I'm requesting an examination. I believe Oguri Cap's current condition is insufficient for normal performance."
"Eh? You're really doing this?" Assistant Ikee widened his eyes. "What if something is actually found?"
"Then that makes it even more unacceptable for him to race," Shuta An shot back. "I absolutely will not accept running the Japan Cup under these circumstances."
Seeing there was no room for argument, Assistant Ikee immediately contacted the racecourse staff to summon the veterinarian.
While the vet hurried over, Trainer Setoguchi Tsutomu—already informed of the situation—rushed to the parade ring at full speed.
"Shuta-kun," he asked directly, "do you believe Oguri Cap is injured?"
"I'm not certain," Shuta An replied honestly. "His gait is abnormal, but whether it's an injury or exhaustion caused by excessive filming, I can't tell."
"If it's an injury, he must withdraw," Setoguchi Tsutomu said grimly. "But if it's the latter…" He clenched his teeth. "Then I absolutely cannot let you bear responsibility for a loss. I'll step forward and apologize myself."
"No," Shuta An said coldly. "The ones who should apologize are the filming crew. Do they have no sense at all? Twenty-four-hour surveillance would affect even ordinary people—let alone a racehorse. And didn't Assistant Ikee clearly state the boundaries beforehand? No matter how this ends, I hope that station is blacklisted."
"That will be difficult," Setoguchi Tsutomu said, troubled. "It's NHK."
NHK—the Japan Broadcasting Corporation. As Japan's national broadcaster, even the JRA could not casually act against it, no matter how bold.
"Fine." Shuta An shrugged. "If JRA can't deal with them, I'll handle what I can. I'll have my agent reject all NHK interview requests. Personally, I'll refuse any interviews before and after races until they publicly acknowledge responsibility for the harm done to Oguri."
If it were any other trainer, they would surely urge caution. NHK's name carried immense weight, and an individual boycott would only amount to provocation—unlikely to cause the broadcaster any real damage.
But Setoguchi Tsutomu did not try to dissuade him. Because among all Central trainers, he understood better than anyone the depth of the bond between Shuta An and Oguri Cap. Arguing would only deepen Shuta An's disappointment.
"He might even choose to leave Japan," Setoguchi Tsutomu warned himself silently.
Just like that jockey senior decades ago—who vanished overseas with his partner, rumored missing, yet in truth became an "undocumented immigrant" in Brazil.
Shuta An, after all, was an American Triple Crown jockey. If he chose to ride long-term in the United States, countless trainers would line up to recruit him. His career would face no risk—he might even flourish more than he ever could in Japan.
Perhaps even the so-called "even chance" would disappear entirely.
"In the end," Setoguchi Tsutomu sighed inwardly, "the only truly reliable thing is one's own strength."
By then, the Tokyo Racecourse veterinarian had already begun examining Oguri Cap.
News spread quickly. Hearing that Oguri Cap was undergoing a medical check, spectators flooded toward the parade ring.
The pairing of Shuta An + Oguri Cap had never lost. For countless racing fans, they were a guaranteed bet certainty—a "bank."
If Oguri Cap withdrew, everyone would have to rethink their bets.
The veterinarian finally stood up and shook his head.
"Although I cannot confirm a specific illness, her gait is indeed abnormal. For safety reasons, I do not recommend that she compete."
Trainer Setoguchi Tsutomu let out a long sigh. "Alright. I'll handle the withdrawal procedures."
He then placed a firm hand on Shuta An's shoulder.
"Leave the rest to me, Shuta-kun. Don't speak to the public yet. I'll take care of it."
"Okay." Shuta An pressed his lips together and nodded.
He understood. This was his nominal "teacher" at Central—standing in front, shielding him from the coming storm.
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