Chapter 85. 36 Seconds of Assault
After breaking cleanly, Mejiro Dober immediately assessed gate five.
Shinko Etoile was accelerating as expected, intent on latching onto Super Dress's Great Escape tempo.
Dober made her choice at once.
She eased off deliberately.
Shinko Etoile swept past her and began applying pressure to Super Dress from behind.
In a Mile race run at high velocity, even a slight reduction in pace was costly. Within seconds, more Uma Musume overtook her.
But this was not a mistake.
It was alignment.
She slipped precisely into the position Shuta An had instructed.
"The rear edge of the leading group…wait for the opening."
She settled into an efficient cruising rhythm, conserving energy as they advanced toward Hanshin's outer bend.
—
In the private box, the old woman stiffened.
"Why did she slow down?"
Ramonu answered calmly, "She doesn't want to be dragged into Super Dress's rhythm. Letting others pressure the leader is smarter."
"If she falls too far back, she may not recover."
"She won't," Ramonu replied. "Her Trainer must have specified positioning in the race plan."
"They plan positioning in that detail?" The old woman sounded genuinely surprised. "Your Trainer did not?"
A faint twitch at the corner of Ramonu's mouth.
"Back then—I drafted my own Oaks race plan."
The old woman exhaled sharply. "Good thing you dismissed that man after retirement. There is no comparison."
Ramonu did not respond. Her eyes remained fixed on the broadcast.
—
From the grandstand, Shuta had been momentarily alarmed.
Dober's initial break was too sharp. For a fraction of a second, he feared she would impulsively contest the lead with Super Dress.
Then she eased.
He relaxed.
"She didn't abandon the plan just because the start was perfect."
His expectations for Dober differed from those he held for Silence Suzuka or Oguri Cap.
Those two possessed the experience to improvise mid-race. If Oguri had drawn this gate, she could have followed Super Dress and dictated terms. If its Suzuka, she wouldn't yield the front.
Dober could not — not yet.
Her race intuition was still developing. In tactical simulations, when asked to think as Suzuka or Oguri would, her decisions rarely matched theirs.
For now, discipline mattered more than brilliance.
"Follow the script," he murmured. "Experience will come."
—
Dober entered the outer bend in fifth.
Hanshin's outer course extended the distance significantly compared to the inner line, and the first portion of the bend climbed uphill — a demanding section for debut-year runners.
Though she had never encountered a true Slope Road before, this incline posed no threat.
She ascended smoothly.
Ahead, Seeking The Pearl's breathing began to fracture.
Dober's eyes sharpened.
"The slope…or tension?"
She shifted diagonally outward.
If Seeking The Pearl's stamina faltered and she stalled, Dober would not allow her acceleration lane to be sealed.
—
In the private box, the matriarch frowned.
"She's moving wide already? Starting too soon?"
Then she reconsidered.
"No…she's creating space. The runner ahead is unstable."
She nodded once.
"Very perceptive."
—
"First one thousand meters — fifty-seven point four seconds!" the commentator's voice thundered. "Super Dress is setting a Silence Suzuka–level tempo at Hanshin! This is ferocious!"
"57.4?" Ramonu's composure cracked. "Won't that number disturb Shuta-kun?"
On the terrace, Shuta An took a slow sip of water.
His expression did not change.
"Fifty-seven point four…Suzuka won the Tenno Sho (Autumn) off that split."
His gaze hardened slightly.
"But Super Dress…I'm afraid I don't wish you the same outcome."
—
Dober could not hear the official time, but she felt it.
The cadence ahead was unsustainably fast.
"Good thing we're on the outer course," she thought. "Longer straight. Fast pace. Trainer accounted for this."
She crested the incline and approached the downhill segment.
"Use the descent. Preserve the legs. Release everything in the final straight."
Her focus narrowed.
The aura that had flared at the gate withdrew completely. It was as if she vanished.
Behind and beside her, her presence dissolved into silence.
Shinko Etoile, already beginning to decelerate, glanced back.
Dober was there.
Yet she felt…nothing.
No pressure. No energy. Only emptiness.
"What is this—?"
Seeking The Pearl sensed it too.
A presence without presence. And that unsettled her more than any visible threat.
Only the surrounding rivals could sense the sudden disappearance of Mejiro Dober's aura.
From the stands, Shuta An could only interpret it one way:
She was preparing to strike.
The other Uma Musume did not understand what had changed — but they understood this much: if Dober was not faltering, then she was dangerous. And if she was dangerous, then every hesitation now would cost them any chance of victory.
They tightened their resolve.
Dober, however, felt nothing unusual. To her, she was simply storing power. Regulating stride. Compressing strength into her legs for one decisive release.
Ahead, Super Dress executed her declared Great Escape flawlessly. Even as they approached the final straight, she still led Daiwa Angela by over three lengths.
Just before straightening, Super Dress used the curve of the track to glance backward.
She saw no Dober. Heard no footsteps.
"Blocked?" she whispered to herself.
Relief flickered.
But she did not ease.
She lowered her center of gravity and increased cadence, forcing every remaining ounce of stamina forward.
"I want to beat Mejiro Dober"
The memory of her previous defeat burned sharply.
—
In the Mejiro Family's private box, both grandmother and granddaughter exhaled at the same moment.
Dober had moved to the outermost lane.
Clear ground.
No obstruction.
No interference.
The preparation was complete.
The other runners realized too late. There was no time to defend, no angle to close.
On the downhill, Dober had accumulated momentum. Now, at the entrance of the straight, she released it.
She surged.
"Mejiro Dober! The favorite is finally unleashing her legs!" the commentator roared.
"She can reach her," the old woman murmured. "And no one can block her path…Was this all calculated?"
"Her condition is flawless," Ramonu replied quietly. "Now it's only a matter of time."
She watched with growing certainty. Dober's explosive power had been a focal point of Shuta An's training. At sixteen hundred meters, her stamina margin was generous. There would be no collapse.
"Next year's Oka Sho…" Ramonu thought. "If she continues like this…"
An undefeated Triple Tiara.
—
From the stands, Shuta An narrowed his eyes.
"This 'state'…it's different from Hakodate."
There was refinement now. Control. Not raw ignition, but focused burn.
"Did painting help her internal rhythm?" he wondered briefly — then dismissed the thought.
Execution mattered more than analysis.
The acceleration was clean.
—
Two hundred meters remained.
Dober had already drawn within a length of Super Dress.
Super Dress knew the truth. She could not defend that margin.
Dober's late velocity was beyond her own.
Still, she fought to preserve second.
Whether she held it or not meant nothing to Dober. The Mejiro heir no longer registered her rivals.
The crowd's roar dissolved into silence.
"My second G1," she thought calmly. "I will claim it."
Her face betrayed nothing. No ferocity. No strain. Only composure.
Around Shuta An, spectators murmured in admiration.
"Triple Tiara runners must possess elegance."
"Even in full sprint, her form remains dignified."
"Truly a Mejiro."
But neither Trainer nor Uma Musume cared for commentary.
Shuta gripped the railing. Dober lengthened her stride.
One length.
Two.
Three.
"Mejiro Dober breaks away! This is a solo run! A rare sight at the Hanshin Juvenile Fillies! Is this the future queen of the Triple Tiara?! Has the lineage of endurance produced another sovereign?! Can she surpass Mejiro Ramonu and achieve the undefeated tiara?!"
The finish line rushed toward her.
She crossed it first.
"Mejiro Dober wins! Her second G1! Final three furlongs in thirty-six seconds! Possibly the fastest closing split in Hanshin Juvenile Fillies history! Extraordinary!"
Shuta An's fist clenched. He thrust his arm into the air.
"Well done, Dober!"
She could not hear him. But she did not need to.
She turned toward the stands, certain of his praise, and offered a radiant smile — followed by a slightly awkward wink.
In the private box, the old woman pressed her lips together.
She said nothing.
Ramonu observed carefully.
The hesitation in her grandmother's silence was louder than disapproval.
After a long pause, the old woman spoke softly:
"I have never seen Dober look at a man that way."
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