Chapter 76. Turf Fillies Part 2
"That's right."
As Mejiro Dober's Trainer, Shuta An remembered her times with absolute precision.
"Laragh's first 1200 meters were slightly slower than Dober's Hakodate Nisai Stakes finishing time. For a front-runner, unless she possesses explosive power superior to Dober's, she cannot sustain the lead over the remaining 200 meters."
"Rather, she's already losing it," Tokai Teio said quietly, eyes fixed on the screen.
On the track, Mejiro Dober had clearly edged ahead.
Two lengths behind them, Maram burst through along the inside rail, surging into third and preparing to challenge.
But Dober did not spare a single thought for the movement behind her. Having drawn level with Laragh, she bit down, resolve crystallizing.
"How could I allow this to become a prolonged struggle?"
Her stride sharpened.
"I'll shake you off—here."
At the 200-meter marker, her speed climbed again.
The fragile margin Laragh had been clinging to disintegrated instantly.
"A second acceleration?" Tokai Teio's brow lifted.
"It's simply her natural late kick," Shuta An replied evenly. "Hollywood Park's straight is flat, much like Hakodate. In fact, it's a hundred meters longer. Laragh is no longer the point of concern. Maram is more interesting. I didn't expect her to unleash that level of speed and pressure Laragh for second."
Tokai Teio caught the nuance in his phrasing.
Trainer had already decided the outcome.
On the track, Dober fully released her explosive power. Within several strides, Laragh's labored breathing faded from her ears.
She glanced back briefly.
Laragh was no longer focused on her.
Instead, she was locked in a desperate battle with Maram for second place.
Dober faced forward again.
No easing.
No complacency.
"As a Uma Musume of the Mejiro Family—even a listed race must be won beautifully."
—
In the stands, Tokai Teio suddenly cried out, voice bursting with exhilaration.
"Amazing!! Trainer! Dober-senpai won!"
She flung her arms around Shuta An and spun around him in place.
He allowed it, eyes never leaving the figure streaking toward the finish.
A flicker of thought passed through him.
A pity.
The Breeders Cup Juvenile Fillies Turf was only in its inaugural year—classified merely as a Listed Race. Had it been a G1, Dober would now hold two G1 victories. And if she claimed the Hanshin Juvenile Fillies at year's end, that would be three.
A dominant favorite for the Oka Sho next spring.
Miss Mejiro Ramonu currently held the most G1 victories within the Mejiro Family.
Their promise. Less than a year from fulfillment.
The thought alone was staggering.
By the time Shuta An refocused, Dober had cleared the field decisively, only strides from the line.
The commentator's voice thundered across Hollywood Park:
"From Woodbine in Canada to Hollywood Park in America, the Uma Musume from Japan triumphs once again! Trainer Shuta of Team Sadalsuud proves—this is no coincidence! From Oguri Cap to Silence Suzuka, excellence on American soil has never been accidental! His overseas strategy is distinct—refined—proven!"
The roar intensified.
"Mejiro Dober crosses the finish line! 1:33.95! A new race record for the Breeders Cup Juvenile Fillies on same distance!"
Across the line, Dober gradually reduced her speed. She turned her head toward the stands.
As always, Shuta An stood closest to the finish. She raised a hand toward him first.
Then toward the crowd chanting her name.
A faint sigh escaped her.
"A shame it isn't a G1. One more G1 and I would nearly catch Ramonu-nee-san."
But then—
610,000 USD.
Converted, roughly 70 million yen. After the Trainer's share, over 50 million yen remained. Enough to renovate the training grounds. Repair the summer villa. Maintain liquidity.
Her expression brightened subtly.
Standing on the turf, victory still warm beneath her feet, she was already calculating allocations.
The Mejiro Family's situation was stable—for now. Yet she and Mejiro Ramonu both understood the underlying fragility. If future generations failed to reach the Dream Cup's elite tier, what then?
Ramonu-nee had begun managing family resources directly.
Dober, at present, could only strengthen the foundation through prize earnings—transfusions of success.
In the stands, Shuta An watched her thoughtful expression and understood.
The Mejiro Family's core vulnerability was structural. They scarcely invested in industry. Income depended almost entirely on Twinkle Series and Dream Cup prize money. Financial conservatism had deepened after failed market ventures during the bubble collapse. Even banks were distrusted; family savings rested in the ancestral vault.
But eras shift. If one generation lacked a Dream Cup–caliber Uma Musume, how long could vault reserves endure?
Shuta An possessed potential solutions. Yet one condition stood immovable.
He had no intention of becoming a live-in son-in-law.
And so, he remained silent.
After the victorious live performance concluded, Mejiro Dober returned alone to the waiting room. The cheers beyond the corridor walls were still echoing faintly, like distant waves refusing to recede. She bent down, lifted her luggage with composed deliberation, and exhaled softly.
"So in the end—I did not disappoint Trainer's expectations. And I upheld the Mejiro name."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the handle.
"This makes it the Mejiro Family's second overseas G1 victory."
The words were not spoken loudly, yet they carried the weight of heritage.
When she stepped out into the corridor, the fluorescent lights cast a quiet glow across the empty hallway. Dober paused. For reasons she could not fully articulate, she turned back and looked at the waiting room door one last time.
A faint premonition brushed across her thoughts.
This…may be the final time I see the waiting room of Hollywood Park Racetrack with my own eyes.
Next year would be different.
"I'll focus on the domestic Triple Tiara," she murmured to herself, gaze steady once more. "By the time I become an Older Uma Musume, Hollywood Park won't have suitable races left for me."
Her heels touched the floor with soft resolve as she turned forward again.
"But being able to leave beautiful memories here…that is already enough."
And with that, she stepped away.
—
At the same time, in the stands of Hollywood Park Racetrack, Shuta An was attempting to leave alongside Tokai Teio when the inevitable happened.
The reporters closed in.
Everyone understood the reality: after today's race, Team Sadalsuud had no further engagements in America. Shuta An could depart at any time. This was their final opportunity of the year.
Microphones extended. Cameras flashed.
Yet this time, Shuta raised a hand calmly.
He would answer three questions. No more.
Miss Secretariat's assistant had already informed him that the celebration banquet was prepared. Both Secretariat and Miss Miesque would attend. He had no intention of lingering unnecessarily outside Hollywood Park.
The questions, unsurprisingly, were textbook.
"How does it feel to win the Breeders Cup Series again?"
He answered evenly, without hesitation.
"Of course, I'm happy. But I would be even happier if this race were a G1."
A subtle declaration of ambition.
"Will Mejiro Dober participate in next year's Breeders Cup Juvenile Fillies Turf?"
"The Breeders Cup Juvenile Fillies Turf takes place a few weeks before the Shuka Sho" Shuta replied. "Next year, Dober's primary objective is the Japan Triple Tiara. Therefore, participation is unlikely. Additionally, her full schedule has not been finalized, so I cannot provide specifics at this time."
Measured. Controlled. Noncommittal where necessary.
"Has Tokai Teio's debut date been determined?"
Shuta's expression softened slightly.
"Tokai Teio is extremely talented. But I have always believed in not rushing maturation. As you can see, she has not fully developed yet. Her debut date remains undecided."
The reporters scribbled furiously.
But one thought remained unspoken.
If Teio were to go abroad in the future—Europe would be the destination. The Turf Twinkle Series there stood at a higher competitive tier.
That much was certain. With that, he departed.
—
Back at Laurel Way 1460, Secretariat and Miss Miesque had not yet arrived. Taking advantage of the quiet, the three returned to their rooms for baths.
When Shuta descended to the first-floor living room in relaxed loungewear, Secretariat had just informed her assistant that she and Miss Miesque would arrive within half an hour.
"By the way," Shuta said thoughtfully, "the first day of the Breeders Cup won't conclude for another four hours. Is it really appropriate for Miss Miesque, as chairperson of the organizing committee, to leave so early?"
The assistant smiled faintly.
"She only needs to appear at the opening ceremony. She isn't responsible for the awards presentation. Her workload isn't heavy."
"I see…" Shuta mused. "So the pressure isn't excessive."
The assistant muttered under her breath, "And who would dare give Miss Miesque excessive pressure—"
—
When Mejiro Dober descended shortly after, dressed in a Dioriviera limited-edition mid-length dress embroidered with a delicate Toile de Jouy print, the entrance door opened at almost the same moment.
Secretariat and Miss Miesque stepped inside together.
Secretariat had driven from West Coast Tracen Academy to Hollywood Park Racetrack to collect Miss Miesque before returning here.
"Congratulations, Miss Dober." Miss Miesque spoke first, her tone elegant yet warm. "You set a record time."
Dober lowered her head modestly.
"It is only because this is the first year. I believe it will be broken within a few years."
Even in triumph, she refused arrogance.
Miss Miesque sighed lightly. "It's unfortunate she cannot participate in next year's Breeders Cup Series. Otherwise, I suspect the Juvenile Fillies Turf result would already be predictable. But the American Oaks Invitational in July—surely she can attend?"
"She definitely cannot come next year," Shuta confirmed firmly. "After the Japanese Oaks, she must rest properly. Two weeks later would be too soon for another overseas campaign."
He paused, then added:
"As for the American Oaks—I am more inclined to let her challenge Europe."
Miss Miesque's brows lifted slightly.
"Such as? The European Turf Twinkle Series presents significantly higher difficulty. And their turf is much more moisture-heavy."
Shuta met her gaze directly.
"What about York Racecourse?"
"York…" Miss Miesque repeated, momentarily taken aback. "You intend for her to challenge the Yorkshire Oaks?"
"I do," Shuta admitted without hesitation. "Among Europe's major Oaks—the Epsom Oaks, the Irish Oaks, and the Yorkshire Oaks—the turf at York is comparatively more adaptable."
His reasoning was clear. Strategic.
Secretariat, having grasped his summer outline, leaned forward slightly.
"And at the end of next year? Arima Kinen? Or perhaps Hong Kong?"
"Hong Kong is under consideration," Shuta said. "But I am also contemplating the domestic Queen Elizabeth Cup as her final race next year. For her first race as an Older Uma Musume—I intend to choose Dubai."
Miss Miesque's eyebrow arched once more.
"Dubai World Cup Race Day? It seems you grew quite fond of that venue after visiting once."
Shuta laughed lightly.
"Accommodation, dining, and transport are all covered. The track suits Japanese Uma Musume exceptionally well. And I have a good relationship with the chairman."
His smile sharpened just slightly.
"For next year's Dubai World Cup Race Day, I am already planning to send Suzuka again."
The future was not vague in his mind.
It was mapped. Deliberate. Calculated.
And tonight's victory was only one step in a far larger design.
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