Chapter 74. The Opponents the Three Uma Musume Will Face
After temporarily resolving Mejiro Dober's concerns, Shuta An redirected every ounce of his focus toward the Shuka Sho preparations. With only a month and a half remaining, there was no room for distraction. Although more than twenty Uma Musume had registered for the final leg of the Triple Tiara, Kyoto Racecourse only allowed eighteen gates. Inevitably, five or six would be turned away before even stepping onto the stage.
But such uncertainty had nothing to do with Mejiro Dober.
Her accumulated prize money alone ensured her place among any field in the world. Even if ninety percent of her earnings from the Shuka Sho were stripped away, the remaining fraction would still be enough to secure her entry without question.
For Shuta An, the qualification threshold was never the concern—what mattered was everything that came after the gates opened.
At this stage, his preparation centered on intelligence.
For Mejiro Dober, beyond Kyoei March—who had already suffered a crushing defeat in the Oaks—the real variables lay among the rising contenders of the summer Twinkle Series.
Maple Syrup, who had broken her maiden in early July and surged forward with three consecutive victories, was now aiming for the Rose Stakes, ready to clash head-on with Kyoei March for her first graded title.
Then there was Air Liberty, who had placed third in last year's Fantasy Stakes. Despite missing both the Oka Sho and the Oaks due to injury, she had returned in the summer with two wins from three starts, setting her sights on the Queen Stakes as her breakthrough moment.
Alongside them were the familiar faces from the Oaks—opponents already etched into Dober's racing memory, each carrying their own evolution.
For the Cox Plate, however, the scale of difficulty rose sharply.
As the opening middle-distance G1 of Australia's Spring Carnival, the race naturally drew a formidable lineup. Southern Hemisphere Uma Musume, known for their willingness to race repeatedly within short intervals, flooded the entry list with overwhelming presence.
Among them stood the most dangerous figures.
Might And Power—already a five-time G1 winner, had crushed last year's Melbourne Cup by a staggering seven lengths.
Behind her stood Doriemus, herself a former Melbourne Cup champion who had also claimed both the Queen Elizabeth Stakes and the Caulfield Cup in her prime. And now, she sought revenge.
There were others as well—Northern Drake, a rising name with two G1 victories earlier in the year.
Tycoon Lil, who had swept through Australia before conquering both the New Zealand 1000 Guineas and Oaks;
Dodge, fresh from a Queensland Derby victory; and Catalan Opening, a consistent force with multiple major wins.
Just reading through the names alone was enough to make the weight of the challenge tangible.
"Suzuka's race is undoubtedly the hardest," Shuta An murmured under his breath.
Yet even as he said it, there was no hesitation in his conviction.
His fingers tapped lightly against the desk as his thoughts sharpened.
"The key is Might and Power."
An opponent who thrived in leading contention, who possessed both the stamina to dominate long-distance races and the resilience to endure brutal pacing. A rival who would not yield easily—not even against Silence Suzuka's overwhelming tempo.
"If Suzuka gets entangled with her—it becomes a battle of attrition."
And in such a battle, Suzuka would not hold the advantage.
MnP had already proven she could conquer 3200 meters with ease. Her stamina was not just superior—it was overwhelming. If she chose to forcibly match Suzuka's pace, the cost would be catastrophic.
Shuta An's gaze narrowed slightly.
"No—Suzuka must not let that happen."
The answer was simple, but execution would demand perfection.
Take the lead. Control the rhythm. Deny any chance of direct confrontation.
A clean escape—nothing less.
Only then could Suzuka's strength be brought to its fullest.
Compared to that, Tokai Teio's upcoming Kyoto Hopeful Stakes appeared almost gentle.
The field lacked overwhelming threats. The only names worth noting were Meisho Homura, who had obliterated her debut field by over three seconds—albeit on dirt—and Emino Dictus, a consistent performer with ties to Ikuno Dictus' camp.
Even so, Shuta An allowed himself no complacency.
Tokai Teio's goal was absolute—an undefeated Triple Crown.
And for that, even the smallest misstep was unacceptable.
"No room for carelessness."
The fleeting thought of leaving things to Teio alone surfaced—and was immediately discarded.
With practiced efficiency, he completed the analysis reports, his pen moving swiftly across the page before transitioning into a digital summary. Moments later, the compiled data was sent directly to Tokai Teio through Line.
—
At that exact moment, far from the stillness of the office, Tokai Teio was in a completely different world.
Seated in the passenger seat, she gripped the edge of her seat unconsciously, her body swaying slightly as the car surged forward.
She had insisted on fulfilling her promise—accompanying Maruzensky on a drive.
At first, within the confines of the Marunouchi area, everything seemed manageable. The speed was controlled, almost gentle, making her wonder if Kaichou's earlier warning had been exaggerated.
But the moment they entered the highway—
Everything changed.
The world outside blurred into streaks of light and color, the engine's hum rising into a sharp, relentless roar as acceleration pressed her firmly against the seat.
Her breath hitched.
"I feel like—my soul is about to be thrown out—"
Her voice came out weak, almost drifting away in the rushing wind.
Somewhere in her pocket, her phone vibrated—the distinct notification tone of a Line message cutting faintly through the noise.
Shuta An.
She knew it instantly. But even as curiosity surged within her, Tokai Teio didn't dare move.
At this speed, even the smallest distraction felt dangerous.
So she could only endure it—leaning back, eyes unfocused, clinging to what little composure she had left.
"Next time…"
Her lips trembled slightly as she forced the words out in a faint, resolute whisper.
"I'm definitely not going for a drive with Maruzensky-senpai."
—
In the Dream World, although the Rice Shower camp had announced a direct run to the Kikuka Sho, the media response was lukewarm. Their attention had already shifted almost entirely toward Mihono Bourbon's comeback at the Kyoto Shimbun Hai.
"A preparatory race before the Kikuka Sho—everything is aimed at securing the Undefeated Triple Crown."
Kojima Sadahiro's confident declaration quickly spread through interviews, drawing waves of attention.
Shuta An only smiled when he heard it, offering no comment.
When reporters turned to him, asking for his stance on Rice Shower's direct entry, he responded in a calm, measured tone, as if reciting a prepared line.
"The decision was made after discussion within the camp. We believe this is the most suitable race schedule for Rice Shower."
It was an impeccable answer—neutral, controlled, leaving no openings.
But the reporters were not satisfied.
They immediately brought up his bold statement after the Japanese Derby, pressing him again—did he still hold that same confidence now?
This time, Shuta An did not avoid the question.
"Rice Shower has improved significantly over the summer. I cannot predict every variable," he said, his voice steady yet unwavering, "but as long as I'm riding him, the Kikuka Sho crown will not be handed to any opponent."
There was no exaggeration in his tone.
Only conviction.
When these words reached Toyama Tameo, however, they failed to stir even the slightest reaction. He merely observed Rice Shower's daily training once, then withdrew his attention entirely, as if the matter held no further importance.
"How Rice Shower performs isn't the issue," he thought calmly. "What matters is bringing Mihono Bourbon to his peak. In the Kikuka Sho, his only opponent is himself."
The contrast between the two camps quietly settled into place—one openly declaring dominance, the other focusing inward, indifferent to external noise.
—
After returning to Setoguchi Tsutomu Stable with the intention of resting, Shuta An was unexpectedly called over.
"Teacher, is something the matter?" he asked, a trace of curiosity in his tone. "Is it about a riding request?"
"This week is the final week of summer racing," Setoguchi Tsutomu said, looking at him. "You should be heading to Kokura, correct?"
"Yes, but I haven't received an assignment for the Kokura 2-year-old Stakes," Shuta An replied with a slight shrug. "The entry from the Shadai Racehorse Club seems to prefer another jockey. Likely connections."
"That works out perfectly," Setoguchi Tsutomu said, his eyes lighting up slightly. "You can take our horse—Maruka Iris."
"No problem." Shuta An agreed without hesitation, even though the name was unfamiliar to him.
Setoguchi Tsutomu paused after that, his expression shifting subtly. What he wanted to say clearly extended beyond a simple riding arrangement.
"Shuta-kun—it's been two years since you transferred to Central, hasn't it?"
"Yes," Shuta An nodded. "Since February, two years ago."
"Only two years—" Setoguchi Tsutomu repeated softly, his gaze resting on the young man before him. There was a quiet complexity in his eyes—admiration, reflection, and something heavier beneath.
"In just two years, you and Take-san have completely changed the structure of Central jockeys. To be honest, after Oguri Cap retired, I didn't provide you with much support. Yet I still benefited from your reputation."
He let out a faint sigh before continuing.
"Take-san has already left his master's stable. I believe—the favors you've given me should end here."
Shuta An did not interrupt.
He had already understood.
"Next Monday, I'll submit the application to the JRA," Setoguchi Tsutomu said. "You'll be released from this stable and become a freelance jockey. Your schedule will be more flexible that way."
"Understood."
Shuta An bowed. This would be his second time leaving a stable. And yet, unlike the first time, there was no turbulence in his heart.
Because the change itself was almost symbolic.
His current schedule had long since resembled that of a freelance jockey. The training of horses within the stable no longer relied on him, and his commitments had already expanded beyond its structure. The only tangible difference would be the loss of the monthly guarantee—fifty thousand yen.
An amount that once mattered.
But no longer carried weight.
To him, this was not a separation filled with uncertainty, but a natural step forward—something that had already happened in practice, now simply formalized.
—
As summer came to an end, the rhythm of the Twinkle Series quietly shifted. The season itself had concluded, but the pressure of autumn races had already begun to close in.
From this point onward, G1 races would appear almost every week.
For spectators, it was a feast.
For the Uma Musume, it was an unrelenting trial.
Within Team Sadalsuud, everyone remained immersed in training. Even those not currently racing maintained strict routines, unwilling to fall behind in this critical period.
Silence Suzuka's workload had been slightly reduced. With her departure to Melbourne approaching, the focus had shifted toward maintaining condition rather than pushing limits. Flights and accommodations had already been arranged, leaving no room for uncertainty.
"To be honest, I could still go in early October," Suzuka said with a faint pout, her tone carrying a trace of dissatisfaction.
The itinerary had been decided by him.
"If you go earlier, you'll have more time to familiarize yourself with the environment," Shuta An replied calmly, his expression unchanged. "More importantly, Moonee Valley's turf is quite different from Japan. You'll need time to adapt."
Suzuka looked at him quietly for a moment before lowering her gaze slightly.
"That second reason sounds more convincing."
Her voice was soft, but there was no real resistance left in it. She understood his intentions—just as she always did.
—
Tokai Teio, on the other hand, had only just regained her senses from the previous day's experience.
After returning to the dorm following her drive with Maruzensky, she had collapsed into bed without even checking her phone. The lingering sensation of speed had left her mind in a daze, as if her body had yet to catch up with reality.
It wasn't until the next day that she finally opened the message from Shuta An.
Her eyes moved slowly across the screen, carefully reading the analysis he had sent.
"The opponents really are quite ordinary."
Her brows knit slightly as she leaned back, her thoughts settling into place one by one. There was no excitement in her voice—only a quiet recognition of the gap between expectation and reality.
"At this stage, it's still difficult to encounter truly strong opponents."
Her gaze drifted forward, as if looking beyond the present.
"The Asahi Hai Futurity Stakes—or next year's Satsuki Sho…"
She understood her Trainer's intentions well. The Kyoto Hopeful Stakes existed not because it was necessary for growth, but because it was necessary for progression. Without sufficient results, even the strongest Uma Musume could not freely choose their stage.
"As long as I win this race—"
Her fingers tightened slightly around the phone.
"then after that, it will all be G1."
The outline of her future began to take shape clearly in her mind. One race after another, each carrying weight far beyond the surface.
Satsuki Sho.
Japanese Derby.
Kikuka Sho.
Arima Kinen.
She repeated them silently, as if confirming their reality.
Only four races.
Just four.
A quiet stillness settled over her.
"That's really not many."
Her voice was soft, almost blending into the air around her. It wasn't dissatisfaction, nor was it regret. It was simply realization—an awareness that every opportunity ahead would be limited, and therefore, irreplaceable.
If that was the case—then each race could not merely be completed.
It had to be experienced.
Fully.
Her hand slowly moved down, resting lightly against her ankle. The familiar spot carried no pain, but the memory of her senpai remained—an unspoken reminder of everything that could be lost in a single moment.
She lowered her gaze, her expression softening.
"I want to run—without holding anything back."
The words came quietly, yet carried a firmness that did not waver.
Then, after a brief pause, she added in an even softer voice:
"But even so—I'll follow Trainer's plan." Her fingers gently tightened, as if reassuring herself. "Because he's always been right."