Chapter 76. Rice Shower's Test Race
Tuesday wasn't a regular training day, and by late morning the training grounds had already thinned out. The usual noise and movement were gone, leaving only a quiet, open stretch of track under the midday sun.
Led by Tokai Teio, Rice Shower arrived at Central Tracen Academy's third training ground.
This track, roughly 1800 meters per lap, had terrain modeled after the dirt course at Kyoto Racecourse. But for today's purposes, Shuta An had chosen the woodchip surface—less strain, more control, and safer for a focused test. Just as importantly, there was no one else around. No spectators. No pressure.
Perfect conditions.
"You'll run 1200 meters,"
Shuta An said as he approached Rice Shower, whose tension was obvious even before he spoke.
"No time requirements. Run freely. Don't worry about ranking—this test is about how you perform, not where you finish. And above all, don't get injured."
Then he handed her a blindfold.
Rice Shower hesitated, staring at it without taking it. "This is—?"
"Woodchips kick up sawdust," he explained calmly. "It can get into your eyes. Both you and Kurofune will wear these. I'm not letting something trivial ruin an important test."
That was enough.
"Thank you, Trainer" She bowed deeply before accepting it with both hands, carefully putting it on. The gesture wasn't just politeness—it was trust, fragile but genuine.
Nearby, Kurofune, already prepared, stepped forward with her usual directness.
"Shall we start warming up?"
"Mm." Shuta An nodded. "Finish within an hour. Once lunchtime starts, others will come here. That'll interfere."
He didn't say it outright—but the implication was clear. Rice Shower was sensitive to her surroundings. Too many eyes would disrupt her.
And Rice Shower understood. Just the thought of being watched made her palms damp.
Because she knew exactly what this test meant.
All across the Academy, countless Uma Musume dreamed of entering Sadalsuud Team. It wasn't just a team—it was a gateway to the highest level. And now, that door was right in front of her.
All she had to do was prove herself.
She was standing at a turning point that could redefine her future.
And she knew it.
—
The two moved off to warm up together.
Kurofune, however, carried a completely different kind of tension.
The moment she'd learned two days ago that she—not Tokai Teio—would be Rice Shower's test opponent, she had understood why. And even after receiving reassurance, one thought refused to leave her mind:
"I can't lose."
Rice Shower might already be closer to her peak. Her pedigree, her progress—everything pointed upward.
But Kurofune had been training within the team all this time. If she lost here—easily, decisively—
"No. I won't accept that."
She didn't let the thought continue.
—
After warming up, the two stood at the starting line.
There were no gates—this was a test, not a formal race. For Shuta An, start mechanics could always be trained later. What mattered now was instinct, execution, and response under pressure.
Today's starter?
Tokai Teio herself.
She raised the flag, eyes sharp with interest. Unlike Shuta Trainer, she knew Kurofune's habits well—especially her smooth initial acceleration.
"This will depend on Rice Shower's start—" Teio thought, narrowing her eyes slightly. "If it's slow, she'll fall behind immediately."
The flag dropped.
Kurofune reacted first.
Her acceleration was clean, fluid—exactly as expected. Rice Shower's response came a fraction slower, but not disastrously so.
Shuta An's eyebrow lifted.
"That's already sufficient."
Rice Shower wasn't a front-runner like Silence Suzuka. She didn't need explosive reaction speed. For a pace-setting or stalking style, this level of start was more than adequate.
And Kurofune?
Her start confirmed his expectations.
"At 1600 to 2000 meters—this will matter."
A strong start at 1600 meters could decide positioning immediately. With further physical development, front-running tactics wouldn't be out of reach for her.
—
They entered the bend.
Shuta An, watching through binoculars, suddenly stilled.
Rice Shower moved.
She accelerated—on the bend.
"She's attempting it without dedicated training?"
For a brief moment, he expected outward drift, loss of balance—something.
It never came.
Her trajectory held.
Her form stayed compact, controlled, resisting the centrifugal force with a precision that shouldn't have been this natural.
"That's not normal talent."
He lowered the binoculars slightly, eyes sharpening.
By the time they exited the bend, Rice Shower had already drawn level with Kurofune. Running on the outside meant she had covered more distance, but that disadvantage disappeared almost instantly.
Then came the final stretch.
Her burst.
Clean. Decisive.
She pulled ahead—one length clear by the finish.
—
Tokai Teio exhaled softly, shaking her head. "Kurofune still needs more time."
Her assessment was blunt but accurate. The intensity of this test had already reached, if not exceeded, the level of the Academy's formal evaluations.
Shuta An, however, was thinking further ahead.
"If this performance appeared in the official test—"
Multiple Trainers would have already extended invitations. The timing of this test—now—was precise. Strategic.
He stepped down from the viewing area, clapping his hands lightly as he approached.
Kurofune would need reassurance.
And Rice Shower—there was no longer any doubt.
From her start— to her race composure— to that exceptional bend acceleration—her talent and effort were unmistakable.
She had passed.
—
Beyond the quiet training ground, the world continued to move.
Paris Turf reported that El Condor Pasa had returned to Japan for promotional efforts, skipping the Prix Foy—yet her Trainer, Tojo Hana, reaffirmed that their ultimate target remained the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe.
Meanwhile, Racenet highlighted Silence Suzuka's arrival in Melbourne, aiming for the Cox Plate—a bid to secure a historic first G1 victory in Australia for a Japanese Uma Musume.
Back in Japan, Twinkle focused on Kyoei March, who sought redemption in the upcoming Shuka Sho after her disappointing Oaks performance.
And Umakeiba noted Special Week's target: the Kyoto Daishoten, another step in her attempt to regain form.
Within the Academy itself, Symboli Rudolf recorded a quieter, but no less significant update in the Student Council log:
Shuta An had submitted a report.
A new member candidate.
Rice Shower.
A future centered on turf middle-to-long-distance races—and the potential to stand among the best.
—
With four days remaining before the Shuka Sho, the competitive landscape finally settled into sharp clarity. The entry list had been fully confirmed—eighteen Uma Musume filling every available gate without exception.
As the final leg of the Triple Tiara, its appeal was unquestionable.
Even those who had failed to qualify for the Oka Sho and the Japanese Oaks had spent the entire Summer Twinkle Series scrambling to accumulate prize money or secure a place through preparatory races, all for a single chance to stand on the stage at Kyoto.
Everyone understood one undeniable fact—the presence of Mejiro Dober was not merely symbolic. She was the axis around which this race revolved. And yet, precisely because of that, for many Uma Musume within Central Tracen Academy, simply participating in the Shuka Sho was already an achievement worthy of remembrance.
Their ambitions might not rival Dober's, but the significance of this stage remained immense.
Shuta An, however, paid little attention to the late entrants who had fought their way in over the summer. Most of them had only reached the two-win class—comparable to where Mejiro McQueen once stood. The emphasis, of course, was on once.
That version of McQueen no longer existed.
Her wire-to-wire victory in the St. Lite Kinen had elevated her into the ranks of G2 Uma Musume, firmly establishing her as a major contender for the Kikuka Sho. In terms of popularity, she was no less prominent than Mejiro Ryan. Three consecutive generations of the Mejiro Family had produced exceptional talent—yet, curiously, no new successor had emerged this year.
Shuta's thoughts returned to the present as he reviewed the official entry list from the URA.
Names were secondary.
What mattered most was the gate draw.
When the results were released the following day, his eyes immediately locked onto a single line.
Gate 10.
A rather central position—nearly ideal.
A faint smile formed at the corner of his lips. This gate offered full tactical flexibility. Whether opting for a leading approach or a hold-up strategy, there would be no positional constraints. In a race as tactically sensitive as the Shuka Sho, that kind of neutrality was often decisive.
His analysis then shifted to the two variables most likely to define the race tempo: Kyoei March and Night Cruise.
Both were expected to influence the early pace.
But when the draw revealed Gate 17 for Kyoei March and Gate 2 for Night Cruise, Shuta's expression changed ever so slightly.
It didn't feel coincidental.
From the innermost gate, Night Cruise was practically positioned to take the lead uncontested. Meanwhile, starting from the far outside, Kyoei March would have to expend excessive energy just to challenge for that position—an inefficient gamble at best.
The implication was simple, yet critical.
There would be a single, uncontested pacemaker.
And that made the race more dangerous.
Because once the early tempo fell under the control of a single runner, the entire flow of the race could become rigid—difficult to disrupt, and even harder to overturn.
Shuta exhaled quietly, leaning back in his chair.
In his view, Kyoei March's issue had never been tactical. Even now, forced into a more conservative approach by her gate position, the core problem remained unchanged. From her stride pattern and energy distribution, it was clear that her optimal domain was not middle-distance turf.
Technically, she was better suited for mile races on power-oriented tracks—perhaps even more so for the Dirt Twinkle Series.
But reality imposed its own constraints.
Within Japan, the bias against dirt racing remained deeply ingrained. Most Trainers avoided it unless absolutely necessary. It was a structural preference that Shuta himself knew he could not overturn anytime soon.
He let that thought pass.
Then returned to what truly mattered.
Mejiro Dober's race strategy.
He reconstructed the race flow in his mind—the projected pace, positional dynamics, and the relatively short final straight at Kyoto, barely exceeding 320 meters.
A late charge?
Too risky.
If the early pace stabilized, there simply wouldn't be enough distance to close from behind.
The conclusion settled naturally.
For this race, the optimal approach was not the most aggressive—but the most controlled.
An orthodox senko strategy.
Not an all-out forward-running assault, but a measured position within the leading group—maintaining rhythm, preserving adaptability, and eliminating reliance on late-race variables.
On paper, it might appear conservative.
But to Shuta An, that was precisely where certainty lay. Because in races like this, the greatest threat is never the opponent you can see—but the conditions you cannot control.
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