December.
Winter.
The seasons had changed once again.
The warm colors of autumn had long since disappeared, replaced by the pale whites and grays of winter.
Snow had finally begun to fall across much of Japan.
Not enough to bury the roads.
Not yet.
But enough to coat rooftops, tree branches, and the tops of parked cars in a thin blanket of white.
The temperature had dropped even further.
Every breath became visible.
Scarves, coats, and gloves had become part of everyone's daily routine.
The smell of roasted sweet potatoes drifted through shopping streets.
Storefront windows sparkled beneath strings of Christmas lights.
Decorations hung from lamp posts.
Christmas trees stood proudly inside department stores.
Music echoed through shopping districts as families and couples prepared for the holidays.
The streets of Fuchū were filled with people carrying shopping bags, wrapped presents, and warm drinks as they hurried through the cold afternoon.
But before Christmas Day...
Before presents.
Before celebrations.
Before winter vacation...
There was one final event.
Every fourth Sunday of December.
The race that marked the end of the racing season.
The legendary—
Arima Kinen.
One of the two prestigious All-Star races in Umamusume racing.
The other being the Takarazuka Kinen, held during late June.
Unlike ordinary races, the Arima Kinen wasn't decided purely through qualification.
It was a celebration.
A gathering of the year's most beloved and accomplished runners.
The race where champions met champions.
Veterans faced newcomers.
Legends defended their names.
And rising stars challenged them.
It was more than a race.
It was the grand finale of the entire racing season.
...
Morning.
11:30 A.M.
The race itself wouldn't begin until 3:00 P.M.
Leaving several hours for competitors to travel, warm up, inspect the course, and complete their preparations.
Many of Tracen Academy's participating students had already departed before sunrise.
Some wanted extra practice.
Others simply preferred arriving early to soak in the atmosphere.
Among those participating...
One name stood out immediately.
Haru Urara.
Returning to defend her Arima Kinen title after an emotional victory the previous year.
Another familiar face had also returned exclusively for today's race.
Forever Young.
After an impressive third-place finish last season, she had once again entered the year's biggest race.
Expectations for both competitors were incredibly high.
Inside the Ritto Dormitory...
The normally lively hallways felt unusually quiet.
Many rooms already sat empty.
Suitcases had disappeared.
Training bags had been packed.
Most race participants had already left for Nakayama Racecourse.
Inside one dorm room—
Kitasan Black stood in front of a mirror.
She carefully straightened the bow on her Tracen Academy school uniform.
One side.
Then the other.
She gave it a gentle tug until both loops were perfectly even.
Satisfied...
She slowly exhaled.
"...Can't believe another racing season is already over, Satano."
Across the room—
Satano Diamond buttoned the front of her winter coat.
"I can't believe it either, Kita-chan."
She smiled softly.
"It feels like this year went by so quickly."
She finished fastening the final button before turning toward Kitasan.
"...Is it true?"
Kitasan looked over.
"Hm?"
Satano tilted her head.
"The rumors."
She lowered her voice slightly.
"That King-san is planning to announce her Triple Tiara challenge today."
Kitasan's expression softened.
She slowly nodded.
"...That's what everyone's saying."
A quiet sigh escaped her.
"I don't like wishing hardship on anyone..."
She looked toward the window.
Snowflakes drifted quietly outside.
"...But..."
"I genuinely hope King-san comes out on top."
Satano looked down.
"I do too."
She paused.
"...Although..."
She looked back up.
"I honestly hope those rumors aren't true."
Kitasan blinked.
Satano smiled sadly.
"I hope she managed to clear her mind after that night."
The memory returned almost instantly.
Kasumidai Observation Deck.
The full moon.
King Halo shouting into the night.
Kitasan quietly nodded.
"...I hope so too."
Silence settled over the room.
Only the faint sound of wind brushing against the dormitory windows remained.
After a moment—
Kitasan broke the silence.
"So..."
She looked back at Satano.
"Taking the bus today?"
"Or are you riding with someone?"
She gestured toward the window.
"Most of everyone is driving themselves to Nakayama."
Satano blinked.
Then smiled.
"What about you?"
"Are you riding with someone?"
Kitasan nodded.
"I already asked Teio-san."
Satano blinked again.
"...And you still don't have a car."
Kitasan laughed awkwardly.
"...No."
Then—
A grin spread across her face.
"...But I've been looking."
Satano raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Kitasan's eyes sparkled.
"A Lamborghini Temerario."
She clasped both hands together.
"It's brand new..."
"And somehow still within my budget."
Satano tilted her head.
"...Lambor..."
She frowned slightly.
"...ghini?"
Kitasan couldn't help laughing.
She lightly slapped the air.
"You'll get used to saying it eventually."
Satano laughed quietly as well.
Kitasan walked toward her bed.
She picked up her winter coat.
Holding it behind herself—
She slipped one arm through.
Right first.
Then left.
She pulled the coat over her shoulders before fastening every button carefully.
She looked toward the window again.
Snow continued falling.
"...This is going to be one cold race."
Satano nodded.
"It definitely will."
She smiled.
"Don't catch a cold."
Kitasan chuckled.
"I'll try."
She grabbed her bag.
"Well..."
"I've got to meet Teio-san."
"I'll see you at Nakayama."
Satano gave a polite bow.
"See you later, Kita-chan."
Kitasan returned the bow before opening the door.
The hallway beyond was almost empty.
Despite the Arima Kinen being one of the biggest races of the year—
Students from Tracen Academy were still required to wear their school uniforms while attending.
URA-sanctioned races were officially recognized as school events.
Meaning uniforms remained mandatory.
Even on race day.
A few minutes later—
Kitasan stepped into the dormitory parking lot.
The cold air immediately greeted her.
Compared to any ordinary day...
The parking area looked almost deserted.
Most of the usual cars were already gone.
Only a handful remained.
Among them—
A familiar Sky Step Blue Mazda ɛ̃fini RX-7 FD3S quietly idled beneath the falling snow.
Soft white exhaust drifted from its tailpipe.
Standing beside it—
Hands tucked inside her coat pockets—
Was Tokai Teio.
She glanced toward Kitasan before sighing dramatically.
"...About time, Kita."
Kitasan laughed nervously.
"Sorry, Teio-san!"
"I was talking with Satano."
Teio simply nodded.
"Come on."
She pointed toward the car.
"We've got to leave."
"The earlier we get there..."
A grin appeared.
"...the better chance we have of grabbing lunch before everything gets crowded."
Kitasan's stomach immediately agreed.
"R-Right!"
The two walked toward the RX-7.
Almost perfectly synchronized—
Both reached for their respective door handles.
Click.
The doors swung open.
They climbed inside.
The familiar smell of leather, gasoline, and warm heater air filled the cabin.
Both reached for their four-point harnesses.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Teio adjusted her shoulder straps.
Then glanced toward Kitasan.
"All set?"
Kitasan tightened the last buckle.
Then smiled.
"All set, Teio-san!"
She pointed dramatically through the windshield.
"Let's go!"
Teio smirked.
"And we're off."
Her left foot pressed the clutch pedal.
Her right hand wrapped around the Nardi steering wheel.
The shifter slid smoothly into first gear.
Clack.
She released the parking brake.
The RX-7 rolled gently out of its parking space.
Snowflakes landed softly against the windshield.
The rotary engine hummed comfortably as they exited the dormitory grounds.
Soon—
They merged onto the streets of Fuchū.
Their destination—
Nakayama Racecourse.
Roughly an hour and a half away.
Their route—
The Shuto Expressway.
Straight through the heart of Tokyo.
While the city prepared for Christmas...
Across the city...
At Nakayama Racecourse...
The parking area was steadily filling.
Cold winter air drifted across the massive lot as snowflakes lazily descended from the gray afternoon sky.
The racecourse itself was already alive.
Announcements echoed faintly from loudspeakers.
Race officials moved equipment around.
Spectators carrying scarves, cameras and racing programs streamed toward the grandstands.
Excitement filled the air.
Today wasn't just another race.
It was the Arima Kinen.
The final race of the year.
The final chance to leave a lasting impression before the racing season came to a close.
Near one section of the parking area—
A familiar Symboli Green Ferrari F40 rested quietly.
Its engine had long since shut off.
The faint metallic ticking of the twin-turbocharged V8 echoed softly as heat escaped from beneath the rear clamshell.
Standing beside the driver's side—
The door still raised open—
Was Symboli Rudolf.
She gave the sleeves of her school uniform a gentle tug, straightening them before the cold began creeping through the fabric.
"...Still chilly."
She leaned into the cockpit.
Carefully reaching across the driver's bucket seat...
Over the exposed aluminum center tunnel...
Until her hand found the winter coat resting on the passenger-side bucket.
She lifted it free.
The thick coat slid over her shoulder.
She slipped one arm through.
Then the other.
Buttoning the front one button at a time.
Only after fastening the final button did she look around.
The parking lot was noticeably busier than when she had first arrived.
More and more sports cars continued entering.
Families walked toward the entrance.
Television crews wheeled equipment toward broadcasting positions.
"...Quite the attendance."
A small chuckle escaped her.
"Considering Yanko-kun's reputation..."
She smiled to herself.
"It isn't surprising."
She folded her arms.
"Not finishing outside the top three."
"Taking an entire year away..."
"And returning only for the Arima Kinen."
She slowly nodded.
"Of course people would come to witness it."
Her eyes wandered across the parking lot.
Immediately recognizing several familiar cars.
To the northeast—
Gold City's Ford GT40 Mk II.
Parked proudly beside Mayano Top Gun's De Tomaso Pantera GT5-S.
Further northwest—
Several parking spaces ahead—
Sat Mejiro Ardan's dignified BMW 750iL Alpina B12 6.0.
Beside it—
Mejiro McQueen's road-legal Porsche 917K.
And on the opposite side—
Mejiro Palmer's Toyota Supra Mk IV.
Toward the east—
Maruzensky's newly acquired white Ferrari Testarossa.
Beside it—
Sakura Chiyono O's Ferrari 308 GTB.
And nearby—
Agnes Tachyon's faithful S30Z.
Rudolf smiled.
"...Looks like they're the only ones who brought their cars today."
Almost immediately—
A deep, unmistakable sound echoed throughout the parking lot.
A naturally aspirated V10.
Rudolf looked over her shoulder.
Then smiled.
A familiar Cobalt Blue Metallic Gemballa Mirage GT slowly rolled into the parking lot.
Its ten-cylinder engine sang quietly before settling into a refined idle.
The Porsche eased into the empty parking space beside Rudolf's Ferrari.
Perfectly centered.
The engine shut off.
Silence followed.
Only the soft metallic ticking of cooling exhaust components remained.
A moment later—
The driver's door opened.
King Halo stepped out.
She gently closed the heavy door.
Thunk.
Then adjusted the collar of her coat before turning toward Rudolf.
"...Ah."
"Good morning, Kaichou."
Rudolf nodded warmly.
"Good morning, King."
King walked around the rear of the Mirage GT.
She slipped her keys into her coat pocket.
Then stopped beside Rudolf.
For a few moments—
Neither of them spoke.
Snow continued falling quietly around them.
Finally—
Rudolf broke the silence.
"...Are you absolutely certain?"
King looked at her.
Rudolf continued.
"About announcing your Triple Tiara challenge today."
King didn't hesitate.
"I am."
Her answer was immediate.
Calm.
Certain.
Rudolf slowly inhaled.
Cold air filled her lungs.
Then she exhaled just as slowly.
"...I need you to understand something."
King remained silent.
"Once you announce it..."
Rudolf's expression became noticeably more serious.
"...there's no taking it back."
She looked toward Nakayama's grandstand.
Thousands of spectators continued arriving.
Journalists.
Cameras.
Media.
Everyone would hear it.
She turned back toward King.
"And if you withdraw afterwards..."
"...your reputation will be questioned."
"People will remember."
"They always do."
King simply nodded.
"I've already thought about that."
She looked toward the racecourse herself.
"It is a risk."
"...One I'm willing to take."
Rudolf pressed her lips together.
Thinking.
Carefully choosing her words.
After several seconds—
She finally spoke.
"...No Umamusume has ever completed the Double Slam."
King quietly listened.
"Winning both the Classic Triple Crown..."
"...and then returning to conquer the Triple Tiara."
She slowly shook her head.
"I've never seriously considered attempting it myself."
A faint smile appeared.
"And those who have..."
"...either withdrew after the first race..."
"...gave up after the second..."
"...or were forced to stop because of injuries."
The words lingered between them.
King nodded.
"I know."
"I know every risk."
She slowly clenched one hand inside her coat pocket.
"But I'm willing to accept all of them."
Rudolf sighed once more.
Then looked directly into King's eyes.
"...All this."
She paused.
"...just to prove one thing to your mother."
King remained silent.
Then gave a small nod.
"...Yes."
Rudolf looked away.
Toward the falling snow.
Toward the grandstands.
Toward the people filling the racecourse.
Then she smiled.
A small one.
"If that's truly your decision..."
She looked back.
"...I won't try to stop you."
Her expression softened.
"But..."
She placed a hand on King's shoulder.
"You won't be doing it alone."
King blinked.
Rudolf smiled.
"We'll support you."
"Every step."
"Every race."
"Every victory."
"...And every setback."
King's eyes widened ever so slightly.
Then—
She smiled.
A genuine one.
Not the proud smile she showed everyone else.
A quiet smile.
One filled with gratitude.
She bowed respectfully.
"...Thank you, Kaichou."
Rudolf returned the smile.
The two began walking toward the entrance of Nakayama Racecourse together.
Snow continued falling around them.
As they approached the main gate—
Rudolf gently patted King on the back.
"I have a feeling."
She smiled.
"You're going to do just fine."
King looked over.
Rudolf continued.
"Whether it's the Triple Tiara..."
She looked ahead toward the grandstand.
"...or wherever your path eventually leads."
King didn't answer immediately.
Instead—
She simply smiled.
And for the first time in quite a while—
The burden she carried felt...
Just a little lighter.
The two continued walking toward Nakayama Racecourse's main entrance.
Fresh snow crunched softly beneath their shoes.
Around them, spectators streamed through the gates, bundled in winter coats and scarves while carrying race programs and steaming cups of coffee.
The excitement was unmistakable.
Every conversation seemed to revolve around one thing.
Predictions.
Favorites.
Who would win the Arima Kinen.
Who would end the season on top.
Rudolf adjusted the collar of her coat against the cold.
King Halo quietly walked beside her, hands tucked into her pockets.
Neither of them spoke.
Not because there was nothing left to say.
But because everything that needed to be said...
Already had.
Then—
A deep American V8 rumble echoed across the parking lot.
Brrr... Brrr... Brrr...
The unmistakable burble of a classic muscle car.
Both Rudolf and King instinctively turned toward the sound.
A Metallic Dark Gunmetal Grey 1971 Dodge Charger R/T slowly rolled into one of the many remaining parking spaces.
Its massive hood shook gently with each pulse of the big-block V8.
The car settled into place.
The engine idled for another few seconds.
Then—
Click.
The ignition switched off.
Silence returned.
A moment later—
Both doors opened.
Vodka stepped out from the driver's seat, stretching her arms above her head.
On the passenger side—
Daiwa Scarlet gracefully climbed out before smoothing the front of her winter coat.
Vodka immediately spotted the two familiar figures.
She raised a hand high.
"Ah!"
"Kaichou!"
"King-san!"
Daiwa smiled and nodded politely.
"It's good to see you two."
Rudolf returned the greeting with a calm nod.
"Likewise."
King smiled as well.
"Good morning."
The two closed the Charger's heavy doors.
Thunk.
Thunk.
They quickly caught up and naturally fell into step beside Rudolf and King Halo.
For the first several moments—
The four simply walked together.
Their footsteps echoed softly against the pavement.
Snowflakes drifted lazily through the air.
The grandstand slowly grew larger ahead.
Eventually—
Daiwa glanced sideways toward King.
"So..."
King looked over.
"Hm?"
Daiwa hesitated for just a second.
"...Is it true?"
King blinked.
"...About what?"
Daiwa sighed quietly.
"The rumors."
She looked ahead.
"That you're announcing something for next year's racing season."
King smiled faintly.
Not quite amused.
Not quite serious.
"...Well..."
She shrugged lightly.
"I suppose..."
"You'll all find out soon enough."
That was all she said.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Vodka scratched the back of her head.
"...Still keeping it a secret, huh?"
King simply smiled.
"I'd rather everyone hear it at the same time."
Rudolf remained silent.
She already knew exactly what King intended to announce.
And judging from the expression on her face—
She wasn't about to spoil it.
The four continued walking.
Eventually, the flow of spectators began separating them naturally.
Rudolf and King maintained their pace.
Vodka and Daiwa slowed slightly after stopping to let several families pass in front of them.
By the time the path cleared—
The distance between them had grown considerably.
King and Rudolf continued toward the entrance without noticing.
Vodka eventually came to a complete stop.
Daiwa stopped beside her.
The two watched the pair gradually disappear into the growing crowd.
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Then—
Daiwa broke the silence.
"...King's racing next year?"
Vodka shrugged.
"...Maybe."
She shoved both hands into her jacket pockets.
"Or maybe she's just entering one huge event."
Daiwa frowned slightly.
"...Maybe."
She didn't sound convinced.
Vodka looked ahead again.
King Halo and Rudolf had almost reached the entrance now.
"...Whatever she's announcing..."
She rubbed her chin thoughtfully.
"...Kaichou already knows."
Daiwa slowly nodded.
"And if Kaichou knows..."
"...then it's probably something big."
The two exchanged one final glance.
Then silently resumed walking.
Completely unaware...
That in just a few hours—
King Halo's announcement would send a ripple through the entire racing world.
Neither Vodka nor Daiwa Scarlet knew it yet.
But by the end of the afternoon—
The biggest talking point wouldn't be who won the Arima Kinen.
It would be what happened after it.
Just then—
Another engine note echoed through the parking lot.
It wasn't loud.
Nor was it the sharp scream of a naturally aspirated V10.
Instead—
A deeper, smoother exhaust note accompanied by the unmistakable whistle of forced induction.
Whooosh...
The soft flutter of twin turbochargers filled the winter air.
Vodka and Daiwa instinctively turned.
An Orange Lamborghini Gallardo Superleggera rolled into an empty parking space nearby.
The car settled neatly between the painted lines before coming to a stop.
The engine idled for another moment.
Then—
Click.
Silence.
Only the faint metallic ticking of cooling exhaust headers remained.
Followed by the gentle sound of both turbochargers spinning down.
Whiiiiii...
The driver's door swung open.
Nice Nature stepped out.
She pulled her coat slightly tighter around herself before shutting the lightweight door with a firm—
Thunk.
She immediately spotted the pair.
"Vodka!"
"Daiwa!"
She waved enthusiastically.
"Hey there!"
Vodka raised a hand in return.
"Morning."
Daiwa smiled politely.
"Good morning."
Nice Nature slipped both hands into her coat pockets.
She slowly looked around the parking area.
"...Jeez."
"This place feels pretty empty."
Vodka looked around as well.
Then raised an eyebrow.
"...Empty?"
She gestured toward the parking lot.
"I don't think so."
Daiwa's eyebrow twitched.
"...Have you looked over there?"
She pointed toward the section nearest the grandstand.
Nice Nature followed her finger.
Rows upon rows of parked cars stretched toward the entrance.
She blinked.
"...Oh."
Vodka laughed.
"Told you."
Daiwa sighed.
Shaking her head.
Then looked back at Nice Nature.
"So..."
"I heard your turbochargers just now."
She glanced toward the Gallardo.
"...Interesting choice."
A smirk appeared.
"Especially considering you usually wake up half the dorm with your cold starts."
Nice Nature laughed sheepishly.
"Hey!"
She rubbed the back of her head.
"I'm tired of Air Groove yelling at me every morning."
Vodka burst into laughter.
"I don't blame her!"
Nice Nature looked back toward her Gallardo.
"Besides the twin-turbo setup..."
She pointed toward the car.
"I also retuned the suspension."
"And changed the wheels."
Vodka walked a little closer.
Her eyes dropped toward the rims.
"Huh."
She nodded approvingly.
"Keeping tradition, I see."
Nice Nature tilted her head.
"Hm?"
Vodka crossed her arms.
"HRE."
She pointed toward the center cap.
"Seems like a lot of us have ended up running HRE wheels."
Nice Nature smiled proudly.
"Haha..."
"Yeah."
She admired them herself.
"HRE P101 Monobloks."
"Gunmetal Dark Gray."
"They suit the Orange body perfectly."
Daiwa slowly circled toward the rear of the Gallardo.
"...And the turbo setup?"
She crouched slightly to inspect the rear.
"You kept the same exhaust?"
Nice Nature nodded.
"Same exhaust."
She smiled.
"The turbo system is loosely based on a Heffner-built Gallardo."
She raised one finger.
"I didn't want to go completely insane."
Another finger.
"So we targeted around nine hundred horsepower."
She smiled proudly.
"So far..."
"The highest we've recorded is eight hundred seventy-two horsepower."
She paused dramatically.
"...To the rear wheels."
Before Vodka or Daiwa could respond—
Another voice joined the conversation.
"...You mean all four wheels, Nattie?"
Everyone turned.
Walking toward them—
Pushing her glasses back into place—
Was Royce.
Nice Nature smiled.
"Ah!"
"Royce!"
Royce stopped beside them.
"If I remember correctly..."
She adjusted her glasses again.
"Your Gallardo is all-wheel drive."
Nice Nature laughed awkwardly.
"...Well..."
"You see..."
Vodka's jaw dropped ever so slightly.
"...Don't tell me..."
Daiwa slowly finished the sentence.
"...You converted it to rear-wheel drive."
Nice Nature immediately nodded.
"Yep!"
She looked incredibly proud of herself.
"Front axles?"
"Gone."
"Front driveshaft?"
"Gone."
She planted both hands firmly on her hips.
Her chin lifted proudly.
"All that wasted power..."
She pointed dramatically toward herself.
"...is now entirely controlled by my right foot!"
Silence.
Royce stared.
Expression completely blank.
Her eyebrows slowly drooped.
Her jaw opened slightly.
She looked at Nice Nature.
Then the Gallardo.
Then back at Nice Nature again.
"...You're serious."
Nice Nature nodded enthusiastically.
"I've never been more serious."
Royce slowly turned toward Vodka and Daiwa.
"...She's joking."
Neither answered.
Instead—
Both simply shrugged at exactly the same time.
Vodka finally spoke.
"You tell us."
"You were teammates years ago."
Royce sighed.
A long...
Defeated...
Sigh.
"...At this point..."
She adjusted her glasses one final time.
"...I genuinely don't know anymore."
Without another word—
She simply started walking toward the grandstand.
Still trying to process what she'd just heard.
The remaining three watched her leave.
Then simultaneously looked back at the Gallardo.
Vodka broke the silence first.
"...You're going to scare yourself."
Nice Nature grinned.
"Nah."
Daiwa folded her arms.
"...You're going to scare everyone else."
Nice Nature's grin only widened.
"Even better."
Vodka couldn't help laughing.
"Yeah..."
"That's definitely something you'd say."
The three shared one last laugh before turning toward the racecourse.
Snowflakes continued falling around them.
The grandstand loomed ever larger ahead.
And somewhere beyond those gates—
The final race of the season...
The final race of the season...
Was waiting to begin.
Time flew by.
The hours seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye.
The pre-race interviews concluded.
The warm-up sessions ended.
The final course inspections were completed.
The afternoon sun remained hidden behind a blanket of winter clouds as light snow continued drifting gently over Nakayama Racecourse.
Despite the cold—
Not a single seat in the grandstand remained empty.
The Main Stand was overflowing with spectators.
Families.
Former racers.
Students from Tracen Academy.
Reporters.
Television crews.
Everywhere one looked, there was movement.
Excitement.
Anticipation.
Conversations echoed throughout the racecourse.
Predictions were exchanged.
Favorite runners were discussed.
Cameras continuously flashed as fans eagerly waited for the competitors to appear.
Even the parking areas had transformed.
Hours earlier they had still contained empty spaces.
Now—
Every section was packed.
Not only with spectators' vehicles—
But also with the personal cars of Umamusume who had chosen to drive themselves to Nakayama.
Rows of sports cars, classics, grand tourers and daily drivers stretched across the massive lots surrounding the racecourse.
The Arima Kinen had truly brought everyone together.
Behind the starting gates—
The atmosphere was completely different.
There was no cheering.
No conversation.
Only concentration.
The competitors quietly prepared themselves.
Each had their own ritual.
Some stretched.
Some closed their eyes in silent meditation.
Others bounced lightly on the balls of their feet to keep warm.
A few simply stared ahead.
Mentally running the race over and over again before it even began.
One by one...
They entered their own worlds.
Forever Young adjusted her glasses.
Her fingers carefully pushed the frames back into their proper position.
Satisfied—
She reached toward the side of her head.
Making sure the small hat resting beside her right ear sat perfectly.
She smiled confidently.
"All set."
Footsteps approached from behind.
"Yanko-senpai!"
Forever Young's ears immediately perked upright.
She turned her head.
Looking down slightly.
"...Ah."
"Urara-chan."
Haru Urara smiled brightly.
She raised a cheerful thumbs-up.
"All the best today!"
Forever Young's expression softened.
The confidence remained.
But warmth replaced the competitive edge in her eyes.
She returned the gesture.
"And to you."
"Do your best out there."
Urara beamed.
"I will!"
The two shared one last smile before the atmosphere suddenly shifted.
Crack...
The public address system came alive.
Static briefly echoed across the racecourse.
Then—
The announcer's voice filled Nakayama.
"Attention all competitors."
"Please proceed to your assigned starting positions."
A brief pause.
"Attention all competitors."
"Please proceed to your assigned starting positions."
The time had come.
The conversations stopped.
Every competitor straightened.
Forever Young slowly rolled her shoulders.
Once.
Then again.
She took a long breath.
Cold winter air filled her lungs.
She slowly exhaled.
The tension disappeared from her body.
Only focus remained.
"...Let's do this."
She began walking toward the starting gates.
Each measured step echoed softly against the turf.
The enormous grandstand stretched before her.
Thousands upon thousands of spectators watched in complete anticipation.
Television cameras followed every movement.
This was the Arima Kinen.
There were no second chances.
She arrived at her assigned gate.
Bracket Three.
An inside draw.
One she had been quietly pleased with earlier that morning.
She stepped inside.
The metal gate closed behind her with a firm metallic click.
Forever Young placed both hands lightly against the sides of the stall.
Then slowly looked around.
Immediately to her left—
Bracket Four.
Standing calmly inside—
Was Agnes Tachyon.
Her expression was unusually composed.
No mischievous grin.
No playful smirk.
Just quiet concentration.
This would be—
Her very first appearance in the Arima Kinen.
A stage unlike anything she had experienced before.
One reserved for the very best.
One where reputations were forged.
And legends...
Were remembered forever.
At the Main Stand—
Near the front railings overlooking the entire racecourse—
The students of Tracen Academy had gathered together.
Winter coats covered their school uniforms as they leaned against the railing, eagerly waiting for the final race of the season to begin.
Kitasan Black stood beside Tokai Teio.
Nearby were Satano Diamond, Vodka, Daiwa Scarlet, Nice Nature, Mejiro Palmer, Gold City, Sakura Chiyono O, Agnes Digital, Air Groove and many more.
Everyone's attention remained fixed on the starting gates below.
The atmosphere was electric.
Every few seconds another roar erupted from somewhere within the crowd.
There were, however...
A select few who weren't watching from the public grandstand.
High above the Main Stand—
Inside Nakayama Racecourse's exclusive Sky Lounge—
Six Umamusume quietly observed the preparations below.
Symboli Rudolf.
Mr. C.B.
Maruzensky.
King Halo.
Orfevre.
And Gentildonna.
The Sky Lounge wasn't open to ordinary guests.
Nor even to ordinary champions.
Access was reserved only for Umamusume who had reached the absolute summit of the sport.
Triple Crown winners.
Triple Tiara winners.
Or those who had remained undefeated throughout the entirety of their racing prime.
A place reserved for legends.
Floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooked the entire course.
Comfortable leather seating filled the room.
Warm lighting reflected gently across polished wooden tables.
The quiet interior contrasted sharply with the deafening cheers coming from the packed grandstands outside.
King Halo stood near one of the windows.
Hands resting lightly in the pockets of her winter coat.
She looked down toward the starting gates.
Then reached into her pocket.
Her phone lit up.
She opened the latest betting odds.
Her eyes quickly scanned the favorites.
Winning Probability
1. Forever Young — Highest projected chance of victory. Second betting favorite.
2. Haru Urara — Second highest projected chance of victory. Public favorite.
3. Meisho Doto — Arima Kinen winner two years ago.
King continued scrolling.
Further down...
6. Agnes Tachyon
King smiled faintly.
"...Sixth."
Not bad.
Especially considering this would be Tachyon's very first Arima Kinen.
She locked her phone.
The screen faded to black.
Sliding it back into her coat pocket—
She returned her attention to the racecourse below.
Beside her—
Gentildonna slowly approached.
Stopping at the window.
"So..."
King looked over.
Gentildonna smiled.
"How does it feel?"
King blinked.
"...Hm?"
"Being here."
She gestured around the Sky Lounge.
"Among this rather exclusive group."
King looked around the room.
Rudolf quietly watched the course.
Mr. C.B. lazily leaned against a nearby table.
Maruzensky held a warm cup of coffee.
Orfevre stood with her arms crossed.
A smile slowly appeared.
"...Honestly?"
"It feels wonderful."
She looked back outside.
"I never imagined I'd become part of this club."
Gentildonna nodded.
"You earned it."
Another voice joined the conversation.
"You certainly did."
Orfevre walked over.
She stopped beside King.
Looking down at the racecourse below.
"You deserve to stand here."
She smiled.
"You earned every bit of it."
King quietly listened.
Orfevre continued.
"And after winning the Triple Crown..."
She gave King a respectful nod.
"You have my respect."
King smiled.
"...Thank you."
Orfevre's gaze drifted back toward the racecourse.
Then—
Her expression darkened.
"...Your mother..."
"...never experienced any of this."
Silence.
"She never reached this room."
"And unless something impossible happens..."
"...she never will."
Her arms folded tightly across her chest.
"And yet..."
A visible look of irritation crossed her face.
"...she still acts as though she's above everyone else."
Another pause.
Then—
Without changing her expression—
She said completely matter-of-factly—
"...She deserves to die a thousand deaths."
Silence.
The room froze.
King Halo blinked.
Gentildonna blinked.
Mr. C.B. blinked.
Maruzensky slowly lowered her coffee.
Even Rudolf turned away from the window.
All five pairs of eyes slowly settled upon Orfevre.
Orfevre looked around.
"...What?"
She genuinely looked confused.
"It's not like the rest of you haven't thought the same thing."
Mr. C.B. suddenly burst into laughter.
She raised a hand dramatically.
"I'd like to borrow a shotgun, please!"
King Halo's eyes went wide.
"C.B.!"
"No!"
"Don't do that!"
Gentildonna smirked.
"Fine."
She casually shrugged.
"What about simply beating her up?"
King stared at her.
"...Gentil."
"No."
"Don't do that either."
Rudolf placed a hand against her chin.
Pretending to think very seriously.
"Hm..."
"I suppose..."
She looked toward King.
"...we could simply call her a bitch."
King's jaw dropped yet again.
"...Kaichou!"
"Not you too!"
Maruzensky suddenly shot one fist triumphantly into the air.
Her eyes sparkled with exaggerated enthusiasm.
"YES!"
King covered her face with one hand.
"Oh, come on..."
"I leave you all alone for five minutes and somehow everyone wants to commit crimes."
The room erupted into laughter.
Even Rudolf quietly chuckled.
Gentildonna covered her mouth, trying—and failing—to suppress a grin.
Mr. C.B. was laughing so hard she had to lean against the table.
Even Orfevre allowed herself a small smile.
Watching them all—
King couldn't help but laugh as well.
It wasn't because she agreed.
Far from it.
It was because, despite their absurd suggestions...
She knew exactly what they were trying to do.
They weren't serious.
Not really.
They were trying to make her laugh.
Trying to lighten the weight she'd been carrying since that phone call.
For just a brief moment—
She forgot about the arguments.
Forgot about the expectations.
Forgot about her mother's words.
Instead—
She simply stood there among friends.
People who genuinely cared about her.
People who believed in her.
No matter what challenge awaited next year...
For now—
Every eye in Nakayama Racecourse was fixed on one thing.
The Arima Kinen.
The competitors stood perfectly still inside their starting gates.
Cold breaths escaped from every runner.
The tension was suffocating.
No one spoke.
Thousands of spectators held their breath.
The commentators lowered their voices.
The starting gate attendants stepped away.
One final moment of silence.
...
Then—
CLANG!
Every starting gate burst open simultaneously.
The field exploded forward.
The grandstand erupted.
"So they're off!"
"What a fantastic start!"
"Excellent reaction from the entire field!"
The pounding of dozens of footsteps immediately echoed across Nakayama Racecourse.
Chunks of turf scattered into the air.
The commentators' excitement rose instantly.
"Forever Young gets away brilliantly!"
"An absolutely explosive launch from the Dubai Cup heroine!"
"She's immediately contesting the lead!"
"And look at this!"
"The public favorite, Haru Urara, has had a slower-than-expected break!"
"She's going to have plenty of work ahead if she wants to defend her title!"
Down on the turf—
The runners accelerated together as one massive pack.
Within seconds they passed the Main Stand.
The noise became deafening.
Thousands upon thousands of voices merged together.
"GOOOOOO, YANKO!"
"COME ON URARA-CHAN!!"
"YOU CAN DO IT!"
"TACHYON-SAN!!"
"RUN LIKE HELL!!"
"LET'S GO!!"
The cheering rolled across the stadium like thunder.
Forever Young settled comfortably into second during the opening strides before smoothly taking the lead entering the first section.
Her breathing remained perfectly controlled.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Right.
Every stride landed exactly where she wanted.
Behind her—
The pack jostled for position.
No unnecessary movement.
No wasted stamina.
Exactly as planned.
The course gradually curved into the long sweeping right-hander.
Forever Young remained calm.
"Maintain rhythm..."
"Don't force anything."
"Long race."
"Plenty of distance left."
Halfway around the bend—
Movement.
From her outside.
Meisho Doto.
The former Arima Kinen winner gradually increased her pace.
Without forcing the move.
Without drama.
She simply carried more speed through the corner.
Doto slipped past.
Taking first.
Forever Young blinked once.
No panic.
"Maintain pace, Yanko..."
"You've still got time."
"Don't chase too early."
She settled back in behind Doto.
Waiting.
Watching.
They exited the opening corner.
The long back straight unfolded before them.
The field finally began stretching apart.
Every runner found their rhythm.
Every stride became more efficient.
Further back—
Haru Urara had begun her recovery.
Her poor start had dropped her all the way to sixteenth.
Far below where anyone expected.
Yet—
She wasn't panicking either.
"One runner."
"Then another."
"Steady."
"Don't waste energy."
She moved to the outside.
Passed one.
Then another.
Then another.
By the time they reached the next bend—
She had already climbed to thirteenth.
Then twelfth.
Then—
Tenth.
The crowd noticed immediately.
"URARA'S COMING BACK!"
"LOOK AT THAT RECOVERY!"
"WHAT A CHARGE!"
Meanwhile—
Agnes Tachyon quietly continued doing exactly what she'd planned.
Unlike the others—
She wasn't relying purely on instinct.
She was calculating.
Watching.
Measuring everyone's cadence.
Breathing.
Stride frequency.
Fatigue.
Every tiny detail.
She had started sixth.
Then fifth.
Fourth.
Without anyone realizing—
She slipped into third.
Still conserving energy.
Still waiting.
"Interesting..."
"Doto's cadence is beginning to shorten."
"Forever Young is maintaining identical stride length."
"Probability of overtake..."
"Increasing."
The race entered its final sweeping turn.
This was where races were won.
Or lost.
Doto remained ahead.
But only just.
The signs had begun appearing.
Her shoulders moved slightly more.
Her breathing became heavier.
Her stride shortened.
Ever so slightly.
Forever Young noticed immediately.
"Now."
She quietly increased her pace.
Not enough to sprint.
Just enough.
Every stride erased another fraction of the gap.
Two lengths.
One and a half.
One.
Behind them—
Tachyon accelerated.
For the first time all race.
Urara did the same.
The defending champion had completely erased the disaster of her start.
She tucked directly behind Tachyon.
Waiting.
The four leaders approached the final straight almost together.
The crowd rose to its feet.
Everyone.
No one remained seated anymore.
The noise became overwhelming.
They exited the final corner.
The finish line lay ahead.
Barely four hundred meters remained.
Forever Young narrowed her eyes.
"If I could dominate the Dubai Cup..."
Her heartbeat slowed.
Everything else disappeared.
The crowd.
The noise.
Even the runners beside her.
Only the finish line existed.
"Then..."
Her eyes snapped fully open.
"I can do the same here!"
Her right foot slammed into the turf.
The ground compressed beneath her boot.
Then—
She exploded forward.
A tremendous final spurt.
Her acceleration was breathtaking.
The gap disappeared instantly.
She surged past Doto.
Almost effortlessly.
Doto's eyes widened.
"W-What?!"
"Already?!"
She tried responding.
But Forever Young simply kept accelerating.
The commentators completely lost their composure.
"WHAT AN INCREDIBLE FINAL SPURT!"
"FOREVER YOUNG HAS FOUND ANOTHER GEAR!"
"LOOK AT THAT ACCELERATION!"
"THEY CAN'T MATCH HER!"
"FOREVER YOUNG IS PULLING AWAY!"
Behind—
Tachyon attacked.
She swept around Doto's outside.
Urara followed immediately behind.
Doto tried answering.
But her legs no longer had enough.
Her earlier pace had finally caught up with her.
The crowd had become one continuous roar.
"GOOOOOOO!"
"YANKOOOOOOOO!!"
"TACHYON!!"
"URARAAAAAA!!"
The finish line rapidly approached.
Three hundred meters.
Two hundred.
One hundred.
Forever Young never looked back.
She simply kept running.
Long.
Powerful.
Perfectly balanced strides.
Every step widened the gap even further.
The commentators could barely keep up.
"WHAT A DISPLAY OF STRENGTH!"
"SHE'S ABSOLUTELY FLYING!"
"THE REST OF THE FIELD HAS NO ANSWER!"
"THIS IS TOTAL DOMINATION!"
"IT'S ALL OVER!"
The white finish line rushed toward her.
Then—
She crossed it.
First.
A full daylight clear.
The stadium erupted.
Confetti cannons lining both sides of the finish exploded simultaneously.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
Thousands of colorful pieces filled the winter sky.
The roar from the spectators was almost deafening.
The commentators shouted over one another.
"FOREVER YOUNG WINS THE ARIMA KINEN!"
"WHAT A MAGNIFICENT PERFORMANCE!"
"SHE RETURNS AFTER A YEAR AWAY..."
"...AND CLAIMS THE BIGGEST RACE OF THE SEASON!"
"HER SECOND ARIMA KINEN APPEARANCE..."
"...AND HER FIRST VICTORY!"
Several lengths behind—
Agnes Tachyon crossed the finish line.
Second place.
An astonishing result.
Especially considering it was her very first Arima Kinen.
Only moments later—
Haru Urara crossed in third.
An incredible comeback after dropping all the way to sixteenth off the start.
She smiled despite the result.
She had fought all the way back onto the podium.
Then—
Meisho Doto finally crossed.
Fourth.
Her early leadership simply wasn't enough to withstand Forever Young's devastating final acceleration.
Beyond the finish—
Forever Young gradually reduced her speed.
Her powerful strides became lighter.
Then slower.
She breathed deeply.
Cold winter air filled her lungs.
One breath.
Then another.
Finally—
She came to a complete stop.
Hands resting on her knees.
Breathing heavily.
Visible clouds escaped with every exhale.
She closed her eyes.
Only for a second.
Then bowed respectfully toward the course.
Toward the race.
Toward every competitor who had challenged her.
She slowly straightened.
Turning toward the packed Main Stand.
Thousands of spectators were already on their feet.
Cheering.
Clapping.
Waving flags.
Calling her name.
Forever Young looked at them.
Then slowly clenched her right hand into a fist.
She raised it high above her head.
And with every ounce of emotion left inside her—
She shouted at the top of her lungs.
A triumphant cry echoed throughout Nakayama Racecourse.
A declaration of victory.
A release of every hour of training.
Every sacrifice.
Every expectation.
The crowd answered with an even louder roar.
Above the Main Stand—
Even the members of the exclusive Sky Lounge smiled.
The final race of the season...
Had ended with a performance worthy of being remembered.
The final race of the season...
Had ended with a performance worthy of being remembered.
High above Nakayama Racecourse...
Inside the exclusive Sky Lounge...
The applause began almost immediately.
Through the floor-to-ceiling glass, the six legendary Umamusume watched Forever Young acknowledge the roaring crowd below.
For several seconds—
No one spoke.
They simply clapped.
Not because it was expected.
But because the performance they had just witnessed deserved genuine respect.
Rudolf smiled warmly.
Her applause was steady and measured.
"...Atta girl, Yanko-kun."
She continued watching Forever Young standing proudly on the turf below.
"Excellent race management."
"You never allowed yourself to panic."
"You waited."
"You observed."
"And when the opportunity appeared..."
A faint smile widened.
"...you took it."
Beside her—
Orfevre slowly nodded.
"...A pure display of raw power."
She folded her arms.
"Not bad, Yanko..."
A brief pause.
"...Not bad at all."
Gentildonna quietly chuckled.
She looked sideways toward Orfevre.
"...Not just power."
Orfevre glanced back.
Gentildonna returned her gaze to the racecourse.
"It was strength."
"Both physical..."
"...and mental."
She rested one hand against the window.
"Most runners would've chased Doto immediately after losing the lead."
"But she didn't."
"She trusted her own pace."
She smiled.
"And that final spurt..."
Even Gentildonna looked impressed.
"...That was extraordinary."
Mr. C.B. remained leaning comfortably against the nearby table.
She simply applauded.
A relaxed smile resting on her face.
"...Beautiful race."
Maruzensky nodded in agreement.
Still holding her coffee with one hand while clapping with the other.
"That's our Yanko."
"She earned every bit of that victory."
The room gradually grew quieter.
One by one...
The applause slowly faded.
Until eventually—
Only King Halo continued clapping.
Her eyes never left the course.
Watching Forever Young wave toward the crowd below.
Watching the celebrations unfold.
Watching another chapter of racing history being written.
Then...
Her hands slowly stopped moving.
Silence.
She lowered them.
Her smile disappeared.
Almost instinctively—
She turned around.
Her eyes settled upon the large wooden doors leading out of the Sky Lounge.
Beyond them...
The interior corridors of Nakayama Racecourse.
Beyond those...
The media rooms.
The interview halls.
The press conference stage.
She knew exactly what awaited her.
The announcement.
Once those words left her mouth...
There would be no taking them back.
No changing her mind.
No quietly pretending it never happened.
The entire racing world would hear it.
Television.
Radio.
Newspapers.
Magazines.
Every racing journalist in Japan would be there.
Waiting.
King quietly inhaled.
Then exhaled.
Behind her—
Rudolf noticed.
She turned away from the window.
"...King."
King remained facing the doors.
She didn't answer immediately.
Rudolf walked closer.
Stopping beside her.
"...Are you ready?"
King blinked once.
She looked toward Rudolf.
Then silently nodded.
"...Win..."
She smiled faintly.
"...or no wins."
Her eyes sharpened.
The uncertainty vanished.
Replaced by the familiar determination that had carried her through countless races.
A confident smirk slowly appeared.
"I'm ready..."
She looked once more toward the doors.
"...for a challenge."
Rudolf smiled.
There it was.
The expression she had hoped to see.
Not anger.
Not frustration.
Resolve.
She gently placed a hand on King's shoulder.
"You know..."
King looked over.
"When most people hear the word 'challenge'..."
Rudolf smiled knowingly.
"...they're usually hoping to overcome someone else."
She paused.
"But your greatest opponent..."
She lightly tapped King's shoulder.
"...has never been another runner."
King remained silent.
She understood.
Rudolf continued.
"It's always been doubt."
"The doubt others placed on you."
"The expectations weighing on your shoulders."
"And..."
She smiled gently.
"...your own desire to be acknowledged."
King slowly lowered her gaze.
For a moment...
The sounds from the racecourse below faded into the background.
"...Maybe."
She admitted quietly.
"But if overcoming all of that..."
She looked back toward the doors.
"...is what it takes..."
"...then so be it."
Orfevre stepped forward.
"...That's the King Halo I know."
Gentildonna nodded.
"No hesitation."
Mr. C.B. grinned.
"And absolutely no sense of self-preservation."
King laughed.
"...Thanks, I think."
Maruzensky walked over and gently nudged King's shoulder.
"You'll be fine."
King smiled.
"You sound awfully confident."
Maruzensky winked.
"I've driven a twin-turbo Countach with nearly three hundred thousand kilometers on it."
She shrugged dramatically.
"After surviving that..."
"I've learned confidence is half the battle."
The room filled with soft laughter once again.
Even Rudolf chuckled.
The tension eased.
Only slightly.
But enough.
King took one final look through the glass.
Below—
Forever Young was making her way toward the winner's circle.
The crowd was still cheering.
The confetti still drifted lazily through the winter air.
The Arima Kinen had found its champion.
Now...
It was almost time for another stage.
Not a racetrack.
Not a finish line.
But a podium.
A microphone.
And a single announcement...
That would change the course of her future.
Three and a half hours later...
The Arima Kinen victory ceremony had concluded.
The post-race interviews had come and gone.
The annual winner's concert had filled Nakayama Racecourse with music and celebration.
The cheers that had once surrounded Forever Young's victory had finally begun to settle.
Evening had arrived.
Outside...
Snow continued falling gently over the racecourse.
The Christmas lights decorating the venue glowed warmly beneath the winter sky.
Inside...
Another event was about to begin.
One that, unbeknownst to almost everyone present...
Would become the biggest story of the entire offseason.
Inside the press conference room...
The room was packed.
Television crews occupied nearly every corner.
Large broadcast cameras rested upon heavy tripods.
Boom microphones hovered overhead.
Rows upon rows of reporters sat waiting, notebooks already open.
Camera flashes occasionally lit the room before the conference had even begun.
Toward the back—
Many Tracen Academy students had quietly gathered.
Not because attendance was mandatory.
But because curiosity had spread throughout the racecourse.
Rumors.
Whispers.
Speculation.
Everyone had heard something.
No one knew exactly what.
Only that King Halo had personally requested a press conference immediately following the Arima Kinen.
That alone was enough to draw attention.
Near the side corridor—
Hidden behind a dividing wall—
King Halo quietly paced back and forth.
One step.
Turn.
Another step.
Turn again.
Her footsteps echoed softly against the polished floor.
She couldn't yet be seen from inside the conference room.
Only a few people were allowed backstage.
Rudolf.
Maruzensky.
Mr. C.B.
Gentildonna.
Orfevre.
The people who had spent the afternoon with her in the Sky Lounge.
None of them interrupted her thoughts.
They simply waited.
Rudolf stood nearby with her arms crossed.
Watching quietly.
Finally—
She spoke.
"...King."
King stopped walking.
She looked toward Rudolf.
Rudolf's expression remained calm.
"This..."
She glanced toward the conference room beyond the wall.
"...is your last opportunity."
King remained silent.
Rudolf continued.
"If you choose to walk away now..."
"...no one will blame you."
"You can simply cancel the conference."
"There will be questions."
"But they'll eventually disappear."
Another pause.
"If you step onto that stage..."
She looked directly into King's eyes.
"...there's no taking those words back."
Silence filled the corridor.
King slowly turned.
She looked toward the opening leading into the conference room.
From where she stood—
She could already see the podium.
The rows of cameras.
The reporters.
The crowd.
Waiting.
Listening.
Watching.
Then—
She looked over her shoulder.
Toward the hallway leading outside.
She still had a choice.
Turn around.
Walk away.
Cancel everything.
Pretend none of this had ever happened.
Or—
Walk forward.
Face the world.
And challenge history.
King quietly closed her eyes.
Only for a brief moment.
She remembered Kasumidai Observation Deck.
The cold wind.
The full moon.
Her mother's words.
"Your victories are nothing more than luck."
She slowly opened her eyes again.
The hesitation disappeared.
She looked toward Rudolf.
Then—
She smiled.
Not proudly.
Not arrogantly.
Simply...
With certainty.
She gave a small nod.
"...Thank you."
Turning on her heel—
King Halo began walking.
One steady step after another.
Toward the podium.
Toward history.
The moment she appeared from behind the wall—
Camera shutters exploded.
Click!
Click!
Click-click-click-click!
Flashes illuminated the room almost continuously.
Several television cameras immediately zoomed in.
Many spectators raised their phones.
The murmuring gradually disappeared.
King walked confidently toward the podium.
She stopped behind it.
Adjusted the microphone slightly downward.
It squeaked softly.
She took one slow breath.
Then another.
Finally—
She looked out across the room.
"...Good evening, everyone."
Her voice was calm.
Clear.
Professional.
"And thank you all..."
"...for attending tonight."
She paused.
Looking around the room.
Making eye contact with as many people as she could.
"First..."
"I'd like to thank every single person who has supported me throughout this past year."
"The letters."
"The gifts."
"The encouragement."
"The kind words."
She smiled warmly.
"After winning the Triple Crown..."
"I received far more love and support than I ever imagined."
Her voice softened.
"I truly appreciate every single one of you."
Many reporters quietly smiled.
Several students applauded.
King bowed politely.
Then straightened once more.
"The reason I requested this press conference..."
"...is because of something that has remained in my heart for nearly a year."
The room grew silent again.
King continued.
"It has always been an Umamusume's dream..."
"...to win either the Triple Crown..."
"...or the Triple Tiara."
She looked down briefly.
"It certainly was mine."
She smiled.
"And I know..."
"...for many runners..."
"...it still is."
She slowly looked back up.
"It isn't simply about talent."
"It isn't simply about speed."
"It requires courage."
She raised one finger.
"Passion."
Another.
"Determination."
Another.
"And the willingness..."
"...to continue moving forward no matter how difficult the path becomes."
The room remained completely silent.
No one interrupted.
King continued.
"Several years ago..."
"The Umamusume Racing Association removed the restriction preventing runners from challenging both crowns."
She paused.
"And ever since then..."
"There have been attempts."
"Attempts to accomplish something no Umamusume has ever achieved."
A quiet murmur spread throughout the audience.
Several reporters immediately began writing faster.
Others exchanged confused looks.
Forever Young slowly looked toward Haru Urara.
"...Urara."
Urara swallowed.
"...Y-Yeah?"
"...Do you know where this is going?"
Urara slowly shook her head.
"...Not anymore."
King continued speaking.
"But today..."
"I'm here to make an announcement."
She stood completely straight.
Her shoulders squared.
Every trace of hesitation vanished.
Her eyes became sharp.
Focused.
Determined.
She spoke clearly.
"So..."
"Without further delay..."
She took one final breath.
Then—
Declared it.
"I'm officially announcing..."
"...my Triple Tiara campaign..."
"...for next year's racing season."
Silence.
One second.
Two.
Then—
The room exploded.
"What?!"
"No way!"
"Did she just say Triple Tiara?!"
Camera shutters became nonstop.
Questions immediately erupted from every direction.
"King Halo!"
"Over here!"
"Is this official?!"
"Are you serious?!"
"What brought this decision?!"
"I thought she'd retired after the Triple Crown!"
Even among Tracen's students—
Shock spread rapidly.
Orfevre blinked.
Once.
Then twice.
She slowly turned toward Gentildonna.
"...Did I hear that correctly?"
Gentildonna nodded.
"...You certainly did."
Even she looked genuinely surprised.
"...But..."
"She's already a Triple Crown recipient."
"...Why challenge the Tiara now?"
Orfevre folded her arms.
"...It's not that completing the schedule itself is impossible."
She looked toward King.
"The problem..."
"...is compatibility."
"King Halo has never naturally been a mile or middle-distance specialist."
Mr. C.B. quietly joined the conversation.
"That's true."
She smiled faintly.
"But people tend to forget something."
Everyone looked toward her.
"Before her Triple Crown season..."
"...King trained twice as hard as everyone else."
"Especially in long-distance races."
"She deliberately entered race after race..."
"...just to improve what she considered her greatest weakness."
She nodded thoughtfully.
"If I had to estimate..."
"I'd say her current mile aptitude has probably improved to around a C."
"Maybe even bordering on B on a good day."
Gentildonna looked surprised.
"...That much?"
Mr. C.B. nodded.
"She's stubborn."
Maruzensky laughed.
"That's putting it lightly."
"King doesn't know when to quit."
King overheard the comment.
A tiny smile appeared.
"...I heard that."
Maruzensky grinned unapologetically.
"I wanted you to."
Rudolf finally stepped forward.
Standing quietly behind King.
Not to speak.
Simply to stand there.
Supporting her.
King noticed.
She smiled.
Then looked back toward the reporters.
A journalist in the front row immediately stood.
"King Halo."
"One question."
King nodded politely.
"Go ahead."
The reporter adjusted his glasses.
"You've already secured your place in racing history."
"You've already won the Triple Crown."
"You've earned the respect of the racing world."
He lowered his notebook.
"So..."
"...why?"
"Why risk all of that?"
The room fell silent again.
Everyone wanted the answer.
King looked down.
Then smiled softly.
When she finally answered—
Her voice carried throughout the room.
"Because..."
"...there's still one finish line..."
"...I've never crossed."
She looked up.
Not toward the reporters.
Not toward the cameras.
But somewhere far beyond them.
As though speaking to someone who wasn't even there.
"I don't know if I'll succeed."
"I don't know if I'll fail."
"I don't even know if my body is suited for it."
She smiled.
"But..."
"I'd rather challenge something impossible..."
"...than spend the rest of my life wondering..."
"...what would've happened if I had tried."
Silence.
Not because people didn't know what to say.
But because...
There was nothing to say.
The determination in her voice answered every question.
One by one—
The reporters lowered their pens.
The room slowly filled with applause.
At first—
Only a handful.
Then more.
Then nearly everyone.
Students.
Reporters.
Even veteran journalists.
The applause grew louder.
And louder.
King Halo bowed deeply.
The cameras continued flashing.
Outside...
Snow continued falling over Nakayama Racecourse.
The racing season had officially come to an end.
But for King Halo...
A far greater journey had only just begun.