The year was in its twilight hours. With only a few days remaining before the calendar turned, the final G1 races of the Japanese circuit had concluded. Most fans expected the season to wind down into the quiet anticipation of the Dream Trophy League—but instead, a massive tide of humanity was currently converging on Tokyo Racecourse.
Horse girls and fans from every corner of the nation had descended upon Fuchū. The atmosphere crackled with an electric fervor usually reserved for the Japan Derby. Despite the biting chill of the winter sky, the faces in the crowd were radiant, flushed with the heat of an expectation that had been building for months.
The Inaugural URA Finals.
Today, the girls who had clawed their way through qualifiers at training centers across Japan gathered here to settle the score. Only five would stand at the pinnacle—one for each division. To even set foot on this turf today was a monumental honor. But the Finals weren't limited to the elite of the Tracen Academies; a surprising number of "wild card" entries from general schools had fought their way into the brackets.
The only certainty was that anything could happen. And the world was holding its breath to see it.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for waiting! Reporting live from Tokyo Racecourse here in Fuchū, I am your play-by-play announcer, Akasaka. Joining me today is a man who needs no introduction—a race commentator, veteran entertainer, and a beloved face in the community… Mr. Saito!"
"Haaaay, everyone! Nice desu ne! It's a pleasure to be here! Let's have a great day!"
"The feeling is mutual, Saito-san. Now, normally, a race of this magnitude held so close to New Year's Eve would be unthinkable. But this year, everything changes. In fact, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that from here on out, we'll be welcoming every new year with the heat of the forge. I am talking, of course, about the URA Finals!"
Akasaka's voice betrayed a tremor of genuine passion. He had never dreamed he'd be handed the mic for a stage this grand. When the request had come directly from Rampage, Akasaka had been floored—he'd actually broken down in tears. To be trusted with this... he vowed to pour every ounce of that gratitude into a broadcast that would do these girls justice.
"This event," Akasaka continued, "was conceived, funded, and established by the world's fastest and strongest horse girl: Mejiro Rampage. In a shocking move, she stripped away the traditional requirements; being enrolled in a specialized Training Center wasn't a prerequisite. We have countless entries from general schools. The competition is split into five categories: Dirt, Sprint, Mile, Middle Distance, and Long Distance. Saito-san, what were your first thoughts when you heard the outline for this?"
"Stunned doesn't even begin to cover it," Saito replied, his voice uncharacteristically soft for a moment. "But more than that, I was overjoyed. I've spent years covering the local circuits. I've felt the raw heat of those girls who run with the desperate prayer of: 'I won't lose to the Central circuit!' or 'I'll make them look at us!'"
The regional circuits aren't just a 'Junior Varsity' for the Central stage.
A certain horse girl had once screamed those words. It was a cry for justice, but it was often drowned out by an inescapable reality: the Central circuit had the money, the fans, and the prestige. No matter how hard a regional girl ran, her efforts often vanished into the shadow of the giants. It was a cruel, quiet tragedy.
"That's why these Finals mean so much to me," Saito said, his energy returning. "We have girls here from the countryside, from local schools… hidden monsters with the same untapped potential as an Oguri Cap. The thought that we might witness the birth of a new legend today? I'm shaking with excitement!"
"Exactly! The stands are packed to the rafters with fans hoping to see exactly that!"
As the commentators shared their excitement, the crowd mirrored the sentiment. While many expected the Tracen girls to dominate, a huge contingent was secretly rooting for a massive upset.
Suddenly, the fanfare blared across the racecourse, cutting through the chatter. Stepping out from the underground tunnel and onto the turf was the architect of this chaos. Mejiro Rampage stood there, clad in her iconic racing silks, a microphone gripped firmly in her hand.
She brought the mic to her lips and—
"'Sup, everyone! Ohakon-Hallo-Ciao!"
She led with her usual high-tension, irreverent greeting. She completely betrayed the small faction of people hoping for a "serious" opening, while perfectly satisfying the expectations of everyone else.
"OHAKON-HALLO-CIAO!" the stadium roared back in a deafening unison.
"One more time!" she teased.
"OHAKON-HALLO-CIAO!!!"
"Alright, alright! I'm the girl who's gonna burn a world record into your retinas—the Dictatorial Tyrant, the Undefeated Legend, Rampage! Have you lot been keeping up with your good deeds? Because the day is finally here! It's the URA FINALS, baby! I've been itching for this day to arrive! How about you guys?!"
A visceral roar erupted from the crowd, a wall of sound that vibrated in the chests of Akasaka and Saito alike.
"Man, it was a long road! A huge pain in the neck, honestly! Coordinating with every Training Center in Japan was a nightmare, but keeping it all a secret until the big reveal was even harder! I want to give a massive shout-out to all the centers across the country that cooperated, and a heartfelt thanks to Chairwoman Akikawa and Hayakawa Tazuna-san. Without their tireless support, we wouldn't be standing here today."
Rampage offered a deep, sincere bow. It was a rare moment of humility—she knew better than anyone that she couldn't have moved this mountain alone. When she straightened up, her voice took on a new, commanding edge.
"On this stage, your pedigree doesn't matter. Your school doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is your will. Your resolve. Every soul here today has earned the right to stand on this turf. Look closely at these brave runners—etch their strides into your memories! Because the winners of these races will be immortalized forever as the very first champions of the URA Finals!"
She reached into her coat and produced a shimmering golden trophy.
It was a masterpiece of craftsmanship—a horse girl caught in mid-stride, her coat fluttering behind her as she tore across the earth. It was elegant, fierce, and undeniably beautiful. The crowd gasped at the sight of it.
Internally, Rampage was dying of embarrassment. The trophy was modeled after her. Her grandmother and "Su-chan" (Speed Symboli) had commissioned it in secret, and by the time she found out, it was too late to stop them.
"It is the founder's prerogative," her grandmother had said. "Be proud of it."
"Exactly! It's not every day you get to become a trophy, dear♪" Su-chan had added.
I would have been perfectly fine NOT being a trophy, Rampage thought dryly.
But she didn't let a flicker of that show. A clown must play the part. Raising the golden trophy high toward the winter sun, Rampage made her declaration.
"The stage is set! The actors are ready! What you are about to witness is the final battle to decide the greatest in the land! Do not mistake this for a mere prelude to the Legends' race tomorrow—everything that happens on this dirt and this turf today will become a legend in its own right! Now, by the authority of the world's strongest and fastest… I hereby declare the URA Finals… OPEN!!"
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