This race had reached its final moments.
Every eye in the stadium was fixed on the track below, where the runners were already charging into the last stretch.
"And here they come into the final two hundred meters!" the commentator's voice rang out across the course, loud and electric with adrenaline. "Hungry Heart still leads the way!"
On the massive screen overlooking the stands, the leading runner surged forward with powerful, determined strides. Her red hair streamed wildly behind her as she drove down the straight, holding on to a narrow but stubborn advantage.
"But Dame Giselle, the race favourite, is struggling to close the gap!" the commentator continued, a note of surprise beginning to creep into her voice.
Dame Giselle had entered the race as the clear favourite, the one most expected to claim victory once the final sprint began. Yet now, as the finish line drew closer with every pounding stride, she was losing ground rather than gaining it.
Step by step, the distance between her and the leader seemed to stretch wider. "Oh my word! And now two runners are sweeping past her on the outside!"
The crowd erupted as two figures suddenly burst forward along the outer lane, their sudden acceleration sending a ripple of disbelief through the grandstand. "Montefilia and Vangelic have both gone past Dame Giselle!"
They stormed down the straight with relentless momentum, their strides still long and powerful as they tore past the fading favourite and set their sights on the runner ahead.
Further up the track, Hungry Heart still clung to her lead.
She drove forward with fierce determination, the space between her and the chasing pair hovering stubbornly at around two lengths as they closed in on the final hundred meters.
From the stands, it looked too far, too little distance remained.
"And it still looks like Hungry Heart will hold on—!" the commentator began, his voice rising with the expectation of a hard-fought but predictable finish.
Then something changed.
"WAIT—Montefilia is finding another gear!"
The reaction from the crowd came instantly, swelling into a thunderous roar as the underdog suddenly surged forward again. Her stride lengthened dramatically, each powerful step devouring the ground ahead of her as the gap between herself and the leader began to shrink.
"Montefilia is flying down the outside!"
The female commentator's voice rose with pure disbelief as the mare surged forward, her stride opening wider and wider with every step. What had begun as a strong push had now become something explosive, something unstoppable.
Behind her, Vangelic tried to respond. For a moment it looked as though she might match the acceleration, her own legs driving harder as she chased the sudden surge.
But Montefilia was already gone.
The gap between them widened with every pounding stride as Montefilia tore down the straight with gathering momentum, her speed building in a way that seemed almost unreal.
"And she's closing on Hungry Heart!"
Fifty meters left.
Up ahead, the leader fought desperately to hold on, pushing forward with everything she had left. Hungry Heart's stride was still strong, still determined, but the thunder of footsteps behind her was closing far too quickly.
The crowd could feel it happening. "Montefilia draws alongside—!"
A roar exploded through the grandstands as the two runners came level, shoulder to shoulder, the finish line rushing toward them in a blur of white. For a heartbeat, the race hung perfectly balanced.
Then Montefilia surged again. "And Montefilia takes the lead!"
The announcer practically shouted into the microphone as the final meters vanished beneath their feet. "MONTEFILIA WINS! MONTEFILIA WINS THE DARLEY FLIGHT STAKES!"
The declaration echoed across the entire racecourse as Montefilia thundered across the finish line, the massive crowd erupting in a wave of cheers that rolled through the stands like a storm.
The Darley Flight Stakes had its champion.
"And what an upset this is!" the commentator continued breathlessly, still trying to keep up with what had just happened. "The least favored runner in the field has stormed home to claim her very first Group One victory!"
The entire racecourse exploded with sound.
Cheers, whistles, applause, and laughter spilled through the grandstands as ten of thousands of spectators rose to their feet, celebrating the incredible finish they had just witnessed.
Out on the track, Montefilia gradually slowed her pace, her powerful sprint finally giving way to exhaustion. Her chest rose and fell in heavy breaths as she came down from the intensity of the final charge.
And then something unexpected happened.
She started crying.
Right there on the track, tears began streaming freely down her face as the weight of the moment finally reached her. For so long she had chased this victory, pushing herself through races and training sessions, always hoping that one day she might stand at the top.
Now that day had arrived.
Before she could even gather herself, another uma approached from behind. A blonde girl jogged up beside her, breathing hard from the effort of the race but still wearing a bright, genuine smile despite her exhaustion.
It was Vangelic.
She had finished third, yet there was not the slightest trace of disappointment in her expression. Without hesitation, she stepped forward and wrapped Montefilia in a warm, congratulatory hug.
"Congratulations hun!" she laughed breathlessly while Montefilia tried, and failed, to wipe the tears from her face.
The crowd saw the moment unfold on the giant screen above the track, and the reaction was immediate as the cheers only grew louder. Thousands of voices rose together, celebrating not just the dramatic victory but the simple, heartfelt sportsmanship between the two friends standing beneath the roaring sky
Below the grandstands, in the section reserved for the runner's teams, another pair of hands joined the applause.
Black Caviar rose from her seat and clapped along with the roaring crowd, the loudness of her applause carrying a sense of genuine pride. A bright smile rested easily on her face as she watched the celebration unfolding on the track below.
"What a race," she murmured quietly.
There was real admiration in her voice. The passion of that final sprint still lingered in the air, and for a moment it made her heart beat a little faster, almost as if she had been the one running down that final straight herself.
Around her, the rest had been just as captivated. Saiya leaned forward against the railing, her eyes still wide as she replayed the final seconds in her mind.
"Montefilia suddenly became a completely different person during that last spurt," she said in amazement. It had been more than just speed, she had witnessed the determination that had taken hold of the girl, taking on a physical form that had pushed her past Hungry Heart by the narrowest of margins.
Invi clapped enthusiastically beside them, her expression bright with satisfaction.
"I'm really glad she finally got it," she said warmly. "She's been working so hard for this. Montefilia's been chasing a Group One win for ages."
Her smile softened slightly as she watched the celebrations continue down on the track.
"She's actually an underclassman of mine," she added with quiet fondness. "Such a charming and hardworking kid. Seeing her finally win one like this… it just feels really good."
The cheers from the crowd continued to echo across the racecourse, rolling through the grandstands like distant thunder as spectators celebrated the incredible upset they had just witnessed.
Black Caviar stretched lightly where she stood, easing the tension from her shoulders before resting her arms against the railing again. Her eyes drifted back down to the track, her smile lingering as she watched the scene below.
"That was an admirable run," she said simply, her voice carrying a quiet appreciation for the effort that had unfolded before them.
Gradually the noise of the crowd began to settle down, though the excitement still buzzed faintly through the air. Down on the track, Montefilia remained surrounded by officials, photographers, and fellow Uma Musume who had come to congratulate her. Even now, applause continued to ripple through different sections of the grandstand as the emotional victory slowly began to wind down.
Then the racecourse speakers crackled to life once again. "Once again, congratulations to Montefilia and her team for that incredible victory in the Darley Flight Stakes!"
Another round of applause swept through Randwick Racecourse as her name echoed across the stadium.
"But ladies and gentlemen," the announcer continued, her tone lifting with renewed excitement, "we ask that you remain seated and keep your eyes on the track, because our final race of the day will be starting very shortly!"
A brief pause followed, just long enough for anticipation to build. "And it is none other than… this year's ATC Gimcrack Stakes!"
The moment the words left her mouth, the crowd erupted again.
A surge of cheers rippled across the massive grandstand, far louder than what one would normally expect for a race of this level.
On paper, the ATC Gimcrack Stakes was simply a Group Three event, restricted to rookie fillies who had only just begun their racing careers. Most of them had barely raced at all, still standing at the very beginning of journeys that might one day lead to the grander stages of the sport.
Usually, races like this were treated as opening acts.
They appeared early in racing festivals such as this one, serving as stepping stones for young uma musumes while the prestigious Group One races took the spotlight later in the day. They were important, certainly, but they rarely captured the full attention of a packed racecourse.
But today was different. This race…was special. Or, to put it more bluntly, several of the fillies in this field were anything but ordinary.
That alone had drawn an unusual amount of attention to the event. The grandstands were packed with spectators who had come not just to watch a race, but to witness the first serious appearance of what many believed could be the next generation of stars.
"Now let's take a look at today's field!" the commentator announced, her voice bright with enthusiasm.
On the massive screen above the stands, the lineup appeared as the names of the runners began scrolling across the display. About half of the field consisted of the kind of competitors people typically expected in a race like this. They were promising fillies with respectable records and flashes of clear potential, the sort of young runners who could grow into strong competitors with the right development.
Names like Tinge.
Total Babe.
Mistaken Identity.
Miss Hoff.
Each of them had already shown glimpses of ability in their earlier appearances and were considered legitimate contenders in their own right.
But they were not the reason the stands were so full. There were others in this lineup, a handful of girls whose presence had quietly shifted the tone of the entire event, turning what would normally be a modest race into something far more anticipated.
These were the standouts, the ones that both fans and professional trainers had come specifically to see.
"And here they come!" the announcer called out as movement appeared at the far end of the track.
From the tunnel beneath the grandstands, the runners began to emerge one by one. Their silhouettes appeared against the bright afternoon sunlight as they stepped out onto the course, the crowd leaning forward as a wave of anticipation spread through the stadium.
The first of the notable entrants walked onto the track with unmistakable confidence.
Her long green hair flowed behind her as she moved forward, the white underside of it catching the sunlight with every step. Her demeanor was relaxed but proud, and the calm way she carried herself made it clear she was already well aware of the attention surrounding her.
There was even a faint trace of arrogance in the spark of her eyes, as though she had already accepted the idea that this entire stadium had gathered to watch her.
"And entering the track now," the commentator continued, "one of today's most talked-about young stars!"
The camera zoomed in as the crowd reacted with excited murmurs.
"Enthaar!"
Enthaar stepped fully onto the course, her emerald eyes sweeping across the massive stadium as she took in the roaring crowd. Her expression did not change much, but there was a quiet confidence in her gaze.
The announcer's voice carried clear excitement as the large screen above the stands replayed a moment from her previous race. "This rising superstar stunned everyone in her debut with a commanding five-length victory!"
The replay showed the decisive moment again. Enthaar surged forward down the straight, leaving the rest of the field behind as the gap widened step by step until no one could even threaten her lead.
"And today," the commentator continued, "she returns to the track as one of the leading contenders in this field!"
Another wave of cheers rolled through the crowd.
"Your third favorite for the ATC Gimcrack Stakes!"
Enthaar reacted confidently and smugly to the cheers around her.
She simply continued walking toward the starting area, her expression calm and self-assured, entirely convinced the excitement of the entire stadium was exactly where she believed it belonged—focused directly on her.
High above the roaring stands of Randwick Racecourse, the atmosphere in the VIP section was far more poised compared to down below, though the excitement of the race still carried through the glass walls.
Seated near the front were three familiar figures.
Grandma Judy sat comfortably in her chair, her sharp hazel eyes watching the track below with quiet interest. Beside her stood Oscietra and Exceed, both leaning lightly on their chairs as they observed the fillies making their way onto the field.
One by one, the fillies continued to appear from the tunnel, their names echoing through the speakers as the crowd greeted them with cheers and scattered applause.
Oscietra folded her arms as her gaze settled on the green-haired girl walking confidently toward the starting area.
"So that's Enthaar," she said casually, nodding toward the giant screen where the replay of the debut victory was still playing. "Five lengths on her debut, and she looked like she still had more to give then."
She paused for a moment, then shook her head slightly. "And yet she's only the third favorite today."
There was a trace of disbelief in her voice as she continued. "That would have sounded completely absurd," she added, "if I didn't already know who the second and first favorites are."
Grandma Judy let out a quiet chuckle at that. The sound was low and amused as she leaned back comfortably in her seat.
"Well," the elderly woman said, a faint smile touching her lips, "it's simply unfortunate for the other girls."
Her eyes drifted toward the tunnel where the remaining competitors were still emerging onto the track. "They're not just facing one monster today." Her smile widened just slightly. "They're facing two."
Before Oscietra could respond, another voice drifted into the conversation.
"Oh dear… I didn't expect to see such familiar faces here~"
The voice was smooth and lilting, carrying a sultry softness that somehow felt both playful and faintly dangerous at the same time.
All three of them turned toward the sound.
And the moment their eyes landed on the two approaching figures, the identity of the speaker became painfully obvious.
Two pairs of lavender hair of nearly identical shades.
Oscietra's expression hardened instantly. Her violet eyes narrowed with open irritation as she straightened slightly in her seat. "…What are you both doing here… Miss Sebring."
The woman she addressed reacted as though the question were the most amusing thing she had heard all week. She raised a delicate hand to her lips and let out a soft, melodic laugh.
Sebring tilted her head slightly, the movement graceful and deliberate. Her lilac eyes gleamed with quiet amusement while a bright, almost too-polite smile rested on her lips.
"Oscietra, darling…" she said sweetly, her voice dripping with playful mockery. "Why are you still calling me by that stiff little honorific?"
She gestured lightly between them with one elegant hand, her tone carrying a teasing warmth that felt anything but sincere. "We're family, aren't we?"
Oscietra didn't dignify that with an answer. Instead, she clicked her tongue sharply and looked away, the annoyance written plainly across her face.
Sebring, on the other hand, seemed thoroughly entertained by the reaction. "And really," she continued casually, shifting her weight as she rested one hand against her hip, "why shouldn't Prince and I be here?"
Standing beside her was the second lavender-haired figure, appearing much younger but carrying herself with much the same confident composure.
Prince of Caviar—the second eldest daughter of Black Caviar—stood with her arms resting neatly at her sides as she observed the exchange in silence. Her stance upright, her expression cool, though there was a quiet edge in her deep indigo eyes that suggested she was missing very little of the tension unraveling in front of her.
"This is a festival for everyone to enjoy, isn't it?" Sebring continued lightly, as though nothing about the situation were unusual.
Then she lifted one slender finger and pointed casually toward the track below. "Besides… we actually came here to cheer for that child over there."
The others followed her gesture.
On the most inner railing of the field stood a lone ginger-haired Uma Musume. A black-and-yellow beanie was pulled low over her head, the brim shading part of her face while a pair of large headphones covered her ears completely.
Unlike the other fillies who chatted or stretched while preparing for the race, she stood quietly apart from the group, appearing relaxed but distant, as though the roar and cheers barely reached her.
The announcer's voice echoed faintly through the stadium as her name appeared across the giant screen.
Mallory.
"Currently the fifth favorite for today's race," the commentator announced.
Sebring's smile widened slightly, pride flickering in her face. "There's our entire reason for being here," she said smoothly. "That girl happens to be my niece."
Her gaze lingered on the track for a moment longer before drifting back to the trio standing before her.
Then she tilted her head slightly, curiosity glinting behind that ever-present smile. "But what about you three?" she asked lightly. "What brings you all the way here today?"
The air between them grew noticeably tense, the quiet kind pressure that made even casual conversation feel dangerous. But before the silence could stretch any further, Exceed decided to step in.
Her voice, as always, was gentle, but there was a firmness beneath it now, a quiet attempt to defuse the situation before it spiraled further. "We're here to cheer for family, of course."
The words had barely left her mouth before a quiet sneer appeared on Sebring's face. "Family?" she repeated slowly.
Her lilac eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded Exceed with thinly veiled amusement. "Since when have you ever considered anyone other than your daughter as family, Exceed?" she asked lightly. "I don't think your parents even have that privilege anymore either~"
The insult lingered in the air like the edge of a drawn blade as Oscietra's patience snapped almost instantly.
"Watch your mouth, ya old snake," she shot back sharply, standing up from her seat and stepping forward. "You don't get to talk about my mother like that."
Before Sebring could even respond to the challenge, the girl beside her moved.
Prince stepped forward in a single smooth motion, closing the distance between herself and Oscietra until the two of them stood nearly face to face, stirred by the latter's taller and bigger body.
Her gaze was cold. "Don't speak to my mother like that," she said threateningly.
Oscietra didn't flinch. Instead, she leaned forward slightly, meeting Prince's eyes with a glare just as sharp. "Then tell your mother," she fired back instantly, "to stop speaking to MY mother like that."
The tension between Oscietra and Prince ran deep, neither of them moved a step from the other.
They simply held each other's gaze, violet and blue eyes locked in a silent standoff that neither seemed willing to break. The space between them felt electric, as though even the smallest push could turn the quiet hostility into a literal explosion.
Prince suddenly scoffed. The sound was soft, but clearly mocking. It was so casual, so dismissive, that it made Oscietra's brow twitch with irritation.
"…What's so funny?" Oscietra asked flatly.
Prince tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a faint, unimpressed smile. "I just find it amusing," she said coolly, "that you still insist on wearing that stupid contact lens."
Her eyes flicked deliberately toward Oscietra's own.
"No matter how much you try to hide it," Prince continued calmly, lifting a finger to gesture vaguely toward Oscietra's eye, "that blue behind it is worth a hundred times more than you'll ever amount to."
The insult landed with deathly precision.
Sebring, standing just behind her daughter, watched the entire exchange with clear amusement dancing in her expression, like the brewing conflict was little more than an entertaining show for her.
Exceed, on the other hand, looked deeply troubled. Her brows furrowed with concern as she stepped slightly forward, clearly preparing to intervene before things escalated any further.
Meanwhile, Grandma Judy simply sighed. The elderly woman rubbed her temple slowly, her expression carrying the weary patience of someone who had seen far too many of the same arguments over the years.
Then suddenly—
"OH WHAT IS THIS??"
The commentator's voice exploded through the stadium speakers with such sudden excitement that it broke the moment instantly.
Every head in the VIP section snapped toward the track, and they weren't the only ones.
Across the entire grandstand, thousands of spectators turned their attention toward the field, drawn by the sheer disbelief in the announcer's voice.
"What an unexpected sight we have here, ladies and gentlemen!"
The camera zoomed in on the latest entrants as they stepped onto the track, the live feed beaming their images onto the biggest screen.
Two small figures were walking side by side.
That alone would not have been particularly surprising, most runners often entered the field together in pairs or small groups after all, chatting quietly with one another as they approached the starting area.
But this… this stopped the crowd cold.
It wasn't just that they were walking together. It was how they were walking. Their hands were intertwined. The two most anticipated, most favored fillies in the race—holding hands, casually, like they were taking a leisurely stroll.
Lunar Light walked forward with stiff, determined steps, though her face was burning bright red. Her grey ears twitched nervously, and the deep flush spreading across her cheeks was impossible to miss, even from the farthest reaches of the stadium. Every eye seemed drawn to her, mesmerized by how cute and defenseless the girl who had won her debut race by twenty four lengths looked like right now.
Beside her was an infamous name, the daughter of Black Caviar herself, Anonym Caviar. And unlike Lunar, the girl appeared completely calm. Her expression remained composed and unreadable, her eyes focused as she moved forward without the slightest hint of embarrassment.
The contrast between the two of them was comical, especially considering that it was the smaller Anonym who was calmly holding the taller, visibly flustered Lunar's hand as though there was absolutely nothing unusual about the situation.
The commentator sounded utterly delighted. "Well, would you look at this!" she exclaimed. "The race favorite, Lunar Light, and the second favorite, Anonym Caviar, are entering the field… while holding hands!"
Laughter erupted across the stands, a rolling wave of amusement mingling with cheers, whistles, and the occasional gasp as many of the spectators leaned forward, craning to see the unexpected sight.
An older mare nudged the stallion beside her, both of them watching the screen with warm, amused smiles. "Look at them," the stallion said softly, her voice carrying a nostalgic fondness. "They're absolutely adorable."
The mare chuckled, the sound light and teasing. "Reminds me of when we first held hands," she said with a sly grin. "You acted exactly like that Lunar girl, I nearly died laughing."
Not far away, a young woman sitting one the higher levels of the stands had her eyes glued to the screen, hands flying up to clasp both cheeks in pure delight. "Oh my god—" she gasped, voice trembling with excitement. "I ship it!"
Her friend blinked at her, eyebrows raised. "You… what?"
"I ship it!" she repeated, practically bouncing in her seat. "That's it! That's my OTP now!! I don't even care about the race! I already won just by seeing them hold hands! Look at them—their height difference! The personality difference! The visual chemistry! The… everything!"
Her friend rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "You're ridiculous. But… yeah, they are kinda cute."
"Kinda? KINDA?!" she shrieked in mock horror, clutching her phone tightly. "This is destiny! I've never seen something so… so heart-melting! I can't—I just can't!!"
"What a beautiful sight!" the commentator continued enthusiastically as the camera zoomed in further on the pair. "Is this perhaps the bond between two young rivals who respect each other deeply?!"
While all this was happening, someone looked particularly satisfied with this development.
Black Caviar stood comfortably with both hands resting behind her head, watching the giant screen with a quiet, proud smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Looks like my plan worked perfectly, she thought to herself.
Autumn Sun and I Am Invincible exchanged a glance. Then both of them let out nearly identical snorts of amusement as their attention drifted toward the two taller children beside them.
Saiya and Persian.
Both of them looked… deeply bothered by what they were seeing.
Saiya stared at the giant screen with a twitch in her brow, her lips tightening as she watched Lunar's hand firmly locked with Anonym's. "…Unfair, she must be blackmailing her..." she muttered under her breath.
Persian looked like she was in a deep crisis. Her hazel eyes narrowed as she watched the scene play out, and she quietly cursed under her breath. "…That little gremlin…"
Although the two of them looked suspiciously like they wanted to march onto the track and personally arrest Anonym for committing what they clearly considered a very serious crime, not everyone shared their outrage.
Namawa waved enthusiastically toward the track with both hands. "Hey look big sis!" she said excitedly. "They finally made up!"
Beside her, Invi had already pulled out her phone and was recording the entire scene with great enthusiasm. "This is perfect blackmail material~," she muttered happily.
As all this is happening, Lunar was still trying desperately to keep a straight face.
It was not working.
She could feel the stares. Not just from the crowd, not just from the announcers, but from the other competitors as well. Nearly every pair of eyes in the field had drifted toward her… or more specifically—
Toward the fact that she was holding Anonym's hand.
Her ears flattened in embarrassment as she tried very hard to pretend nothing unusual was happening.
STOP LOOKING AT ME!!!
Her ears flattened slightly against her head as the roaring stadium seemed to grow louder and louder around her. Every step felt heavier than the last, every whisper from the crowd sounding like it was aimed directly at her.
Trying to hide her growing panic, she leaned a little closer toward Anonym and whispered urgently. "Um… can we let go now…?"
Anonym didn't even look at her. "No." The answer came immediately, calm and utterly uncompromising.
Lunar blinked. For a moment she genuinely wondered if she had misheard.
But Anonym simply continued walking forward as if nothing unusual was happening at all, her expression perfectly neutral. "Our gates are next to each other," she explained. "I'll let go once we enter them."
Lunar stared at her in disbelief. "…Why are you being like this?"
At that, Anonym finally glanced at her briefly. Then she answered with the same quiet composure. "The past few days of ignoring you drained my battery."
Her fingers tightened slightly around Lunar's hand. "I need to replenish it now."
Lunar's face turned an even deeper shade of red. Her brain seemed to short-circuit for a full second before she sputtered under her breath.
"Then maybe you shouldn't have ignored me in the first place!!"
Anonym didn't respond, she simply kept walking and Lunar kept being dragged along beside her.
As the two of them continued toward their assigned starting gates, still very obviously connected by the hand—the strange sight continued to attract curious glances from the other fillies scattered across the field.
Some looked amused.
Some looked confused.
And a few looked… mildly annoyed.
One of those figures soon began walking directly toward them.
The green-and-white-haired girl approached with confident steps. Even the way she walked carried a sense of quiet dominance, how she carried herself seemed to radiate the kind of self-assurance that made people instinctively take notice.
It was Enthaar.
She stopped a few steps in front of the pair, her gaze moving between Lunar and Anonym before settling somewhere between them.
For a moment, she simply observed them.
Then she spoke.
"I acknowledge your strength," she began calmly, her voice clear and confident. "Daughter of Caviar… and daughter of Light."
Her emerald eyes sharpened slightly. "But I cannot accept that the two of you are favored to win this race more than I am."
There was no trace of bitterness or hostility in her tone.
If anything, it just sounded… proud. "I will prove everyone wrong today," she continued, lifting her chin slightly to appear taller. "By defeating both of you."
The way she said it wasn't arrogant in the usual sense. It was bold, certainly, and perhaps a little cocky, but there was a strange charisma behind her confidence that made it difficult to take offense.
She wasn't trying to belittle them, she simply believed that strongly in her own ability… and strangely enough… Lunar found herself respecting that.
She reminds me of someone… The image that surfaced in her mind appeared almost immediately.
The conqueror of the century's end.
TM Opera O.
It was that same overwhelming confidence and theatrical certainty in one's own greatness, and the comparison made Lunar smile slightly, remembering the clips and shows she saw of that particularly entertaining overlord.
Instead of responding with irritation or competitive hostility, Lunar simply met Enthaar's gaze with the most sincere expression she could muster."I like that confidence," she said warmly.
Enthaar blinked.
Lunar's smile remained gentle. "Good luck out there," she added honestly. "I hope you run the race you're aiming for, remember to enjoy it!"
The reaction she received was… not what she expected. For the first time since approaching them, Enthaar's confident composure cracked. "…Ah."
Her expression froze, because that was not the response she had prepared herself for.
Normally, when she made bold declarations like that, people reacted in one of two ways. They either became intimidated by her confidence, or they responded with irritation and competitive hostility.
But this…this was neither. This girl had simply smiled at her… and wished her luck…?
The sincerity behind those words caught Enthaar completely off guard. Her green tail swished lightly from side to side as a faint blush crept across her cheeks.
"I—well—yes—of course," she stammered, clearly scrambling to recover the poised confidence she usually carried so easily. "Good luck to you as well, I—"
Then she noticed something.
Standing quietly beside the silver-haired girl was Anonym. Those deep blue eyes had locked onto her, and they looked… utterly terrifying.
There was no anger in them.
No irritation.
No visible emotion at all.
Just a cold, silent stare that somehow felt far more intimidating than open hostility ever could have been.
Enthaar froze mid-sentence, a small gulp slid down her throat. "…I see your gate is nearby," she said quickly, her voice suddenly far less steady than before. "I will… take my leave."
Without another word, she turned around and briskly walked away, her earlier confident stride replaced with something noticeably more hurried as she made her way back toward her assigned starting gate.
Lunar watched her retreating figure, blinking in confusion. "…Huh?"
She tilted her head slightly, clearly puzzled. "Why did she suddenly get so timid?"
After a moment of thought, she arrived at the most logical explanation her mind could produce. "…Maybe she's just not very good at receiving compliments."
The lively sounds that had filled the stadium only moments earlier began to clear up as the runners gathered near their assigned positions on the track. What had been a sea of voices and restless excitement slowly faded into something quieter, more focused, as the reality of the upcoming race drew closer.
Then the announcer's voice rose once more through the speakers, clear and commanding as it echoed across the entire racecourse. "Alright ladies and gentlemen, all runners please proceed to your starting gates!"
Immediately, the field began to move.
One by one, the fillies started walking into their assigned stalls, the atmosphere tightening with anticipation as the moment everyone had been waiting for finally approached. Conversations in the stands softened into a low murmur, replaced by the steady rhythm of footsteps and the quiet preparations of the competitors readying themselves for the start.
Beside Lunar, Anonym's fingers loosened. The gentle pressure around Lunar's hand faded as Anonym released her grip, their hands separating at last.
Lunar glanced down briefly at their now-empty palms before looking back up at her. "…I guess it's time," Lunar said softly.
Anonym gave a small nod in response.
But instead of immediately turning toward her gate, she lingered for a moment longer and looked back at Lunar. "Hey, Lunar…"
Her voice was calm as always, though there was a faint hesitation behind it this time.
Lunar tilted her head slightly. "Yeah?"
Anonym looked away for a second, as if gathering her thoughts before speaking again. "…Can we change the bet for the winner of this race?"
Lunar blinked in surprise. "Eh?" she replied reflexively. "So suddenly?"
A faint trace of color appeared across Anonym's cheeks. It was subtle, but noticeable against her otherwise pale features.
She shifted her shoulder slightly before continuing, her voice a little quieter now. "…Because I think that… whether or not you win today…"
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides. "…you've already won my heart over."
Lunar stared at her, her brain visibly stalled for a moment as the words tried to settle into place. "I… did?"
Anonym nodded once. "Yes." Then she continued, her voice steadier now that the words had been spoken. "So if the bet stays the same… there would be nothing left at stake."
For a moment Lunar didn't respond. The meaning of what Anonym had just said slowly settled into her mind, piece by piece.
But instead of embarrassment or panic, what filled her chest first was something else entirely, it was relief.
A soft breath escaped her as the tension in her shoulders eased.
So she really has accepted it…me leaving!
The thought alone felt like a weight lifting from her chest. Lunar looked back at Anonym, her expression thoughtful.
"…Then what do you propose we do?" she asked honestly.
Anonym hesitated again.
Then, slowly—almost awkwardly—she began to explain. "If I win…" Her voice faltered slightly before she forced herself to continue. "…then your heart has to accept me."
Lunar blinked, her expression shifted into visible confusion.
"…What do you mean?" she asked, genuinely puzzled. "I don't think there's any part of you that I haven't accepted already, unless..?"
She sounded completely sincere and clueless.
Anonym stared at her for a second. Then she let out a quiet sigh. "…Idiot."
The word slipped out softly, though there was no real malice behind it. She shook her head slightly before turning away toward her starting gate. "I'll explain it later," she said simply.
With that, she stepped forward and entered her starting stall, the metal gate closing behind her with a firm metallic clank.
Lunar remained standing where she was for a moment longer, still trying to process everything that had just happened. "…What was that supposed to mean?"
The question lingered in her mind as she glanced toward Anonym's stall, but eventually she exhaled and shook her head slightly.
I guess it doesn't matter right now.
Turning away, she walked toward her own starting gate. The attendants guided her carefully into position as the final preparations began, the metal frame of the stall closing around her with a sharp sound.
As she settled into place, one clear thought rose to the front of her mind.
No matter what…
Her fingers curled slightly as determination settled in her chest.
Let's just win.
Outside the gates, the announcer's voice rang out across the stadium once more, electrifying the air with renewed anticipation.
"Ladies and gentlemen! The runners are now ready and loaded for the ATC Gimcrack Stakes!"