The moment the gates gave way, the track erupted beneath them, the pounding of boots against the turf rolling out in a thunder that echoed like war drums across the stadium. Eighteen runners surged forward as one, the ground trembling under the force of their strides, and Melody felt it all at once, the rush of wind tearing past her ears, the pull against her face, the sheer velocity of the opening burst as she drove down the straight, her crimson eyes wide, alive with the moment.
The grandstands answered with a roar that seemed to shake the very structure beneath them, voices crashing together in a wave of sound as cheers rose, overlapped, and swelled into something deafening, each name shouted with fervor, each runner carried forward by the hopes of those who had come to see them. Banners whipped through the air, handmade signs lifted high above the crowd, fists pumping, children shouting at the top of their lungs as the energy surged outward, spilling across the track, through the cameras, through the broadcast, reaching millions who sat riveted to their screens, bodies tense, breaths held as the race unfolded before them.
The scent of grass and earth rose sharply as the turf was torn apart beneath their feet, dirt scattering in bursts with every stride, while the line of runners pressed forward in perfect tension, sweat cutting through the air in fine arcs as effort and speed collided. Every uma ran with purpose, their expressions set, their eyes narrowed with a focus so precise it left no room for doubt, no room for distraction, only the singular drive that pushed them onward.
To win.
"An explosive start from the field," Akasaka's voice rang out across the grandstands, carried cleanly over the roar of the crowd as her excitement rose in tandem with the pace below. "All eighteen runners breaking well out of the gates, and already we're seeing the early positions take shape. Who will seize control of this race and carry it all the way to the finish?"
The stands answered in a surge of sound, cheers swelling into a living wave as fists punched the air, and the energy of thousands collided into something almost overwhelming, a shared pulse that drove the race forward with every stride.
"Hachimitsu Melody is settling into the middle of the pack," Akasaka continued. "Northern Lights has taken the early lead, pushing ahead with confidence, but the question now is whether she can sustain that pace, especially with Melody pressing close behind."
For a fleeting moment, Melody's gaze flickered, drawn instinctively toward the sea of faces that lined the track, thousands of eyes locked onto them, mouths open in shouts she could not fully hear yet somehow felt all the same. The weight of it pressed in, heavier than before, sharper, as though the expectations of every person present had suddenly found their way onto her shoulders.
And then, she saw them.
Kitasan and Diamond, standing out amidst the crowd, their smiles bright, hands raised as they called out to her, unwavering in their support.
Something in her steadied.
A grin pulled at her lips, not forced, not uncertain, but firm, grounded, as her focus snapped forward once more, her boots striking the turf with renewed intent as she drove herself ahead, pushing into the race with everything she had.
****
Lightning's gaze narrowed as her fingers tightened around her arm, the pressure in her grip matching the intensity in her eyes as the race unfolded across the screen. Northern Lights had surged to the front of the pack, her stride long and aggressive, a confident grin set firmly in place as she dictated the early pace, while just behind her, Melody held steady within the cluster of runners, hugging the inside line with discipline, conserving space, conserving energy. Further back, almost lingering at the edge of the frame, Seventh Heaven remained patient, unhurried, her position fixed rather than passive.
"Hhm, this is unusual," Hidehito murmured, his hand rising to his chin as he studied the formation, the shift in his tone enough to draw Red's attention.
"What's got ya thinkin', old timer?" Red asked, glancing over without taking his eyes off the screen for long.
"Northern Lights is known for being an end closer," Hidehito said, analytical as ever. "Yet today, she has chosen to take the front from the outset. While it is not unheard of for a runner to adjust her approach, it is exceedingly rare for those who rely on late surges or closing strategies to commit to such a drastic shift." His eyes sharpened slightly. "Which raises the question. Is this a calculated decision—"
"Or a stupid one," Lightning finished, a faint scoff slipping out as she shook her head. "I've seen plenty of runners get a little too full of themselves, thinking they can brute-force a race and leave everyone else eating dirt."
"Tell me about it, Cap," the girl with the white streak in her hair added, rubbing at her nose with a smirk. "Makes it twice as satisfying when they crash and burn."
"Still," the recruit beside her, tipping the brim of a miniature top hat perched on her head, cut in more calmly, "it's way too early to call it either way. Especially when someone else is playing the long game."
Red's expression tightened, his attention flicking briefly toward the rear of the pack before returning to the front. "So, we got one hothead up front and a real quiet one hangin' back," he muttered. "Hope Melody's keepin' tabs on both of 'em."
Lightning exhaled slowly, her focus locking onto the camera as it centered on Melody.
"Come on, kid, you've got this."
****
"We're approaching the first bend, and Northern Lights continues to hold the lead," Akasaka's voice carried across the roar of pounding strides as the field surged into the turn, the rhythm of eighteen runners striking the turf in unison. "Just behind her, Blue Lagoon and Konohana Gust are maintaining position, with Hachimitsu Melody holding steady within the pack and keeping herself well within reach."
The formation tightened as they leaned into the curve, momentum shifting subtly as each runner adjusted her footing and line, the race beginning to take shape not just in speed, but in intent.
At the front, Northern cast a glance over her shoulder, sweat trailing from her brow and soaking into the fabric of her dress as she drove forward, her boots striking the turf in a steady, unrelenting cadence that sent flecks of dirt and grass scattering behind her. The wind pulled through her hair, but her focus cut cleanly through the sensation, settling on the figure trailing her.
Melody.
Even now, she could see it clearly, the unwavering set of her posture, the sharpness in her gaze, the kind of focus that refused to bend under pressure. A faint smile tugged at Northern's lips, though there was nothing light about it. Bloodlines, legacy, the weight of a name passed down and polished by history, none of it meant anything to her, because champions were not determined by what came before them, but by what they could do in the moment, by the strength of their ability and the resolve to push beyond it.
She had come from nothing extraordinary, no lineage of racers, no legacy to uphold, only a quiet household shaped by routine and limitation, where her parents, ordinary office workers with no connection to the track, had lived their lives carefully within the boundaries they understood. They had never been harsh, never anything less than supportive in their own way, yet their encouragement had always carried an unspoken restraint, shaped by the fear of what might happen if she reached too far and fell short.
That was what she could never accept.
Northern had excelled in everything placed before her, her studies, her examinations, every task that demanded precision and discipline, and when she chose to step beyond that world and enter the Twinkle Series through Honnōji Academy, their concern had not been rooted in disbelief, but in the quiet dread that she might not measure up when it truly mattered.
That fear had never belonged to her, and it never would.
The smile at her lips faded, replaced by something tighter, something harder, as her jaw set and her teeth pressed together, her stride driving forward with even greater force as she refused to give an inch of ground. She would prove them wrong, not just in this race, but in every step that had brought her here, and in every step that would carry her beyond it, because she was not bound by their limits, nor defined by their fears, nor destined to settle into the same quiet mediocrity they had accepted.
The name Northern Lights would not fade into the background.
It would blaze.
And no legacy, no expectation, no name carried by another would stand in her way.
****
"Go, Melody, go!" Light's cry rang out over the swell of the crowd, her fist pumping as she bounced on her toes, unable to contain the surge of excitement as the runners burst out of the first bend and drove into the next straight.
Beside her, Dahlia remained still, her eyes locked onto the massive screen that dominated the stands, the race unfolding in sharp clarity as the pack stretched out across the turf. There was a tightness in her jaw, a steady pounding in her chest that she hadn't felt in a long time, something familiar and unwelcome all at once, because it pulled her back to another day, another race, another girl tearing down the track in silks that had once meant everything to her.
The memory came unbidden, vivid in a way that refused to fade, the image of her sister cutting through the field against the best of her era, carrying herself with that same fierce intent, that same refusal to yield. Dahlia could almost hear her voice again, the way she had spoken so freely about the future, about the day she and Melody would meet on the same stage, racing not just for victory, but for something greater, chasing the Japan Cup as though it were inevitable.
A future that had never come.
And yet, as Dahlia watched Melody now, really watched her, the thought lingered that perhaps Scarlet had not been dreaming as wildly as she once believed, because there was something there in the way Melody moved, in the precision of her stride, in the discipline of her pacing, that spoke of a runner who would not simply participate in races, but define them. If that day had ever come, if they had ever stood side by side on the same track, Dahlia knew without hesitation that Melody would have pushed Scarlet further than anyone else ever had.
There was a quiet awe in that realization, one she could not deny.
Even at her own peak, even now under Logan's guidance, she could feel the gap between them, because Melody's movements carried a refinement she had never possessed, every step controlled, every shift of her body refined without being forced, as though nothing was wasted, not a breath, not a fraction of energy. It was the kind of efficiency that could carry a runner through even the longest distances and still leave something in reserve for the final burst, the kind that separated the good from the truly exceptional.
"You see it too, don't you?"
Logan's words cut through her thoughts, drawing her gaze toward him as he kept his eyes fixed on the race, his expression sharpened with focus.
"Hana's got her playing to her strengths," he continued, his tone measured, analytical in a way that came as naturally as breathing. "Hornet was a different kind of runner, more instinctive, more aggressive, she'd force her way into position, use whatever angle she could find, then burn everything she had in the final stretch after grinding everyone else down." He paused briefly, his gaze narrowing slightly. "But Melody, she's ain't running like that."
Dahlia followed his line of sight back to the screen.
"She's holding back just enough," Logan went on, "keeping pace without overcommitting, conserving what she needs until the right moment presents itself, and when it does, that's when she'll move."
"Yeah," Dahlia murmured, though her eyes flicked toward another figure trailing just behind. "But she's not the only one thinking like that."
Logan tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk forming. "You mean Heaven?"
Dahlia gave a small nod, her gaze steady. "She's watching both of them, waiting for the right moment, and I wouldn't be surprised if she's planning to let them wear each other down before making her move."
Logan let out a quiet chuckle, the smirk lingering as he glanced at her. "Looks like all those race breakdowns I had you sit through are finally paying off," he said. "The faster you learn to read your competition, the better you get at staying one step ahead of them." His eyes returned to the screen. "Doesn't matter if it's turf or the streets, people might run different, but the mindset doesn't change."
"Data has consistently shown that some of the strongest runners are able to maintain their pace well into the third length before the final bend," the heavyset young man with thick glasses remarked, his attention fixed on the race as he spoke with quiet authority. "Champions like Mejiro Dober, Fine Motion, even Daiwa Scarlet have demonstrated this pattern time and time again, holding just enough in reserve before committing fully in the closing stages."
The slimmer one beside him tilted his head slightly, curiosity piqued. "And why is that?"
"It's because—"
"Oh, for the love of God, would you two give it a rest already?!"
Logan's words cut through the moment, sharp enough to make both of them flinch, their shoulders jerking as they turned toward him with wide eyes, clearly not expecting the outburst.
Dahlia let out a quiet sigh, offering them an apologetic look as she gestured lightly toward him. "Sorry about that," she said. "It's been a while since he's had a smoke."
****
"After navigating a demanding second bend, the runners have now entered the straight," Akasaka's voice carried clearly across the stadium as the field burst forward, boots striking the turf in a relentless rhythm that echoed beneath the roar of the crowd. "Northern Lights continues to hold the lead, maintaining her pace at the front, while Blue Lagoon begins to fall back, with Konohana Gust pressing forward just behind her."
She leaned in slightly, her focus sharpening as the formation stretched. "Hachimitsu Melody is holding in fourth, keeping within striking distance, while Seventh Heaven remains toward the rear, biding her time."
"It is certainly unusual to see Northern Lights adopt such an aggressive approach," Hosoe added, her tone measured as she observed the race unfold. "She has never been known to lead from the front, and such a drastic shift in strategy carries its own risks." A brief pause followed as her eyes tracked the field. "Whether this proves to be a calculated decision or one that ultimately works against her… we will soon find out."
Along the stands, the tension had settled into something almost tangible.
Hana stood with her gaze fixed firmly on the track, every detail of the race reflected in the sharp focus of her eyes. Beside her, Okino had bitten down on his lollipop hard enough to crack it, the sound faint but telling as he watched without a word. A short distance away, Jo and his uncle Musaka remained silent, their composure intact, though the beads of sweat tracing down their faces betrayed the strain beneath it.
Nearby, Ryan stared wide-eyed, his jaw hanging open in stunned focus, his hand through the bag of popcorn that had already been chewed through at the bottom, courtesy of Oguri, who stood beside him with her cheeks puffed out, blissfully unconcerned as she continued to eat, while Belno hovered awkwardly between them with a strained, uncertain smile.
Further along, Fumino stood apart, her attention locked onto the race, her fingers tightening against her arm as the runners pushed forward, the intensity of the moment reflected in the quiet tension that ran through her stance.
High above the grandstands, within the quiet confines of the private box, Rudolf and Takao watched in stillness as the race unfolded below them, the distance offering no relief from the tension that had settled into the air. Takao held a pair of binoculars to her eyes, tracking the runners with careful precision as they swept across the turf, her focus unwavering as she followed their movement through the straight.
Beside her, Rudolf remained composed, though the intensity in her posture betrayed the weight of her attention, one finger resting lightly against her lips as her magenta eyes followed the flow of the race with exacting focus. Melody remained within the cluster of runners, holding her position, neither advancing nor falling back, moving with measured control as the field pressed forward.
And yet, beneath that composure, something unsettled stirred.
An unease that refused to be ignored.
Rudolf found herself watching not just with expectation, but with a growing sense that the balance of the race had not yet revealed itself, that something within the rhythm felt incomplete, as though the moment was building toward a shift no one had yet accounted for. Even as she willed Melody forward in silence, her confidence in her training and ability unwavering, she could not shake the quiet certainty that what came next would not unfold as simply as it seemed.
****
"It's fifty-one point seven seconds as they pass the thousand-meter mark," Akasaka's voice rang out once more, cutting cleanly through the rising noise of the crowd as the race pressed on. "The skies remain overcast above Kyoto Racecourse, and the late autumn air continues to keep conditions cool."
Melody could feel none of that.
All she could feel was the pounding of her heart, each beat slamming against her chest and echoing in her ears as though it threatened to drown everything else out. Sweat streamed down from her brow, tracing along her temples, soaking into her shirt and the lining of her coat, while her muscles burned under the strain as they cleared the fourth corner and surged forward.
And then she saw it. The finish line, stretching out at the end of the straight, distant yet unmistakable, waiting.
"We are entering the final stretch!" Akasaka's voice rose, charged with urgency as the runners burst out of the bend. "Everything is on the line!"
This was the moment.
Melody's jaw tightened as she drove her foot into the turf, digging deep into the earth beneath her as she released everything she had been holding back, the force of it surging through her body in a single, explosive push that sent her forward with renewed speed. The wind roared past her, pulling at her hair, pressing against her face as she accelerated down the straight.
"There it is, Hachimitsu Melody begins her spurt!" Akasaka cried.
The world blurred at the edges as she pushed ahead, overtaking Konohana Gust in a flash of motion, her body moving with fierce intent as she surged past, her breath tearing from her lungs as her focus locked onto the runner ahead.
Northern Lights.
Time seemed to stretch thin as Melody closed the gap, her mind narrowing to a single thought, a single objective, cutting off the lead and opening the path to the finish.
Then Northern glanced back. A grin spread across her face, sharp, knowing, and in that instant, something cold slipped down Melody's spine, a warning she felt before she could understand it.
"See you at the finish line."
Northern's stride shifted, her boots digging hard into the turf as she unleashed her own burst, her body surging forward with a sudden, violent acceleration that tore her further ahead, the air itself seeming to ripple around her as she broke away.
"Unbelievable, Northern Lights responds with a spurt of her own!" Akasaka's voice surged. "She's widening the gap, one length, now two!"
Melody's breath hitched, her rhythm faltering for the briefest moment as the distance stretched, as Northern pulled ahead with a force she hadn't anticipated.
And then came another presence. Her gaze snapped to the right, eyes widening as she caught sight of Seventh Heaven moving alongside her, silent, composed, her timing precise to the very second.
"No hard feelings," Seventh said, steady even as she ran.
Then she moved. A clean, decisive burst carried her forward as she surged past Melody, slipping ahead with controlled power as she set her sights on the leader.
"Seventh Heaven is making her move!" Akasaka's voice rang out. "She's closing in on Northern Lights, this is incredible!"
Northern's head snapped to the side, her eyes sharpening with a fierce, cutting intensity as Seventh Heaven drew level beside her, the two of them locking into stride as though bound by the same relentless rhythm. Their arms drove in perfect cadence, boots striking the turf with thunderous force as the wind tore past them, the distance between them reduced to nothing as they ran neck and neck down the straight.
"Northern Lights refuses to yield!" Akasaka's voice rang out over the roaring crowd, her excitement rising with every stride. "And Seventh Heaven is right there with her, matching her pace step for step!" The camera tightened on the leaders as the tension surged. "Hachimitsu Melody is still in pursuit just behind them, but this race is far from decided. The final stretch is long, and anything can still happen as they race toward the finish!"
"I'm not finishing behind you again, bitch!" Northern's expression twisted, her teeth bared as frustration and determination bled into one, her glare cutting toward Heaven without restraint. "This is my race, mine!"
Heaven's lips curved into a faint, almost amused smirk, her composure unshaken even at full speed. "Then, you better run like hell!"
****
Kitasan and Diamond stood frozen at the rail, their earlier cheers tapering off as the space between Melody and the leaders began to widen, the shift subtle at first, then unmistakable, and with it came a quiet heaviness that settled into their expressions as they watched her struggle to close the gap.
Around them, the crowd surged in the opposite direction, voices rising into a deafening roar that shook the stands, cheers and cries colliding into a single, overwhelming wave that seemed to press down on the track itself.
Far back, Hana's jaw had drawn tight, the tension in her face severe enough to make the muscles along her cheek tremble, while beside her, Okino stood just as rigid, the usual ease in his posture gone as he watched the race with unblinking focus, sharing in the strain without a word.
At the C.H.A.S.E. facility, the atmosphere had shifted just as sharply, the earlier energy draining into something far more somber as Red and Lightning leaned forward, her gaze darkening while Hidehito stood close by, their attention fixed on the screen, the recruits around them falling silent as the realization began to settle in.
Even within the private box, the composure that had defined the space began to falter, Takao lowering her binoculars slowly, her gaze dropping toward the carpet as though the sight had become too much to follow, while Rudolf remained still, though the tension in her posture betrayed the weight of what she was witnessing.
Among the spectators, Light cut through the chaos, raw and desperate, her hands clenched tight. "Come on, Melody, don't give up!" she cried, her words swallowed almost instantly by the roar.
Beside her, Dahlia's gaze began to dip, something tightening in her chest as the distance stretched further, while Logan stood unmoving, his expression hardening with every passing second, his eyes locked onto the track as though sheer will alone might close the gap.
"Come on, kid…" he muttered under his breath. "Come on. I know you've got it. Come on."
****
The world around her seemed to stretch and distort, the rush of motion thinning into something slow and suffocating as each second dragged longer than it should, as though time itself had begun to resist her. Melody's breaths came in heavy pulls, ragged and uneven, her chest tightening with every inhale as her legs grew heavier with each stride, the burn in her muscles no longer a distant ache but something all-consuming, spreading through her body until even the act of moving forward felt like forcing herself through invisible weight.
Her crimson eyes remained fixed ahead, wide, unblinking, locked onto the two figures pulling away from her, their forms just within reach and yet impossibly distant. It was only two lengths, nothing more, a gap that should have been manageable, something she could have closed, something she should have closed, and yet it felt as though they had already slipped beyond her grasp, as though the finish line had already chosen its victors and she had been left behind.
Every step she had taken to get here began to unravel in her mind, the long hours on the training track, the drills that had pushed her to exhaustion, the countless strategies she had memorized and refined, all of it rising and collapsing in the same breath until it felt meaningless, as though none of it had ever been enough to begin with.
She was going to lose.
The thought settled in with a quiet finality that cut deeper than the burn in her legs, and with it came everything else she had tried not to think about, the voices that would follow, the headlines that would twist her name into something hollow, the laughter, the dismissive glances, the disappointment she would see reflected back at her from every direction.
Hachimitsu Melody, the one who couldn't measure up.
The one who proved that a legacy could be nothing more than a name.
The one who never deserved it.
The words echoed louder the more she tried to ignore them, until even the voice she had once dismissed returned with cruel clarity, Sensuke Fujii's accusations threading through her thoughts as though they had always belonged there, whispering that she had never truly earned her victories, that she had only succeeded in the absence of someone stronger, someone better.
Maybe she didn't belong here.
Maybe she had never belonged here.
Just another runner destined to fade into obscurity, her name carried not as something to aspire to, but as a caution, a reminder of what happened when someone reached too far beyond their place. The weight of it crushed down on her, pressing against her chest until her vision blurred, tears slipping free without her realizing it as they trailed down her cheeks, her jaw tightening painfully as she forced herself to keep moving even as the world around her dissolved into a distant, muffled haze. The roar of the crowd faded into something indistinct, Akasaka's voice reduced to a garbled murmur that barely registered.
"I… I'm sorry, Mom…"
The words left her in a broken whisper, her gaze dropping to the grass beneath her feet as though she could no longer bear to look ahead.
"I'm so sorry…"
"Hah?"
The voice cut through everything. It didn't belong to the noise, didn't belong to the race, didn't belong to anything around her, and yet it rang clear, sharp, familiar in a way that made her heart stutter.
"The hell are you apologizin' for, kiddo?"
Melody's eyes widened as her head lifted, her breath catching as she looked ahead, and there, standing before her as though she had always been there, was a figure she knew without question.
Golden hair streaked with black fell past her shoulders, a grin spread across her face, bright, unshaken, impossibly alive.
"Mom…?" Melody trembled, disbelief and longing colliding in a single breath.
It couldn't be real. She knew that. Exhaustion, strain, the breaking point of her body and mind, it had to be, and yet none of that mattered, because in that moment, she didn't want it to disappear.
"Didn't you say you were gonna chase me down?" Hornet said, jerking her thumb toward herself with that same easy confidence Melody had seen in every photograph, every memory she had clung to. "Didn't you say you were gonna become an undefeated Triple Crown champion?" Her grin sharpened just slightly. "So, what the hell are you doin', givin' up now?"
"I—I…" Melody faltered, cracking under the weight of everything she had been holding back. "I can't… I'm not fast enough, I'm not strong enough… I'm not you…"
"Yeah, no shit," Hornet shot back without hesitation, folding her arms as that grin returned, softer this time, but no less certain. "And that's a good thing." Her gaze held steady, unwavering. "You ain't me. You're you, and sometimes that's gotta be enough."
Melody's breath hitched as she looked at her, really looked at her, the image so vivid it hurt.
"I didn't get to be there for you growin' up," Hornet went on, her tone easing just slightly, though the strength behind it never wavered. "But the first time I held you, I knew exactly who you were." She tilted her head, that familiar spark in her eyes. "You're my kid."
Her grin widened. "And my kid doesn't quit."
She turned her gaze forward, toward the runners ahead, by now two more had overtaken her. Their movements slowed, stretched, as though time itself had bent around them, before looking back at Melody with that same fierce certainty.
"You've been watchin' the Godly Fifteen your whole life," she said, leaning in just slightly. "You know every trick they've got, every move they pull when it counts." Her smile sharpened, almost playful. "So how about you start usin' 'em?"
Melody's eyes widened, something sharp and sudden cutting through the fog that had threatened to swallow her whole. "You mean…?"
Hornet gave a small, knowing nod, the kind that carried more certainty than any explanation ever could. "Oh, I know exactly what you're thinkin', kiddo," she said, her grin widening with quiet pride. "So, quit second-guessin' yourself and go on." Her gaze held steady, unwavering. "Go make me proud."
The image of her began to dissolve, breaking apart into strands of wind and light that scattered into nothing, slipping through Melody's reach just as she instinctively reached forward, her fingers stretching out as though she could hold onto her for even a second longer. The moment passed, her hand closing slowly into a fist instead, the hesitation leaving her as something steadier took its place.
Her breathing gradually steadied, each inhale and exhale falling back into a controlled rhythm as the chaos that had threatened to overwhelm her receded, while her gaze, once clouded by doubt, sharpened with renewed clarity, locking forward with a focus that refused to waver. The uncertainty that had weighed her down only moments ago loosened its grip and gave way to something far more resolute, a quiet determination that settled deep within her, anchoring her in the very moment she had fought so hard to reach.
And in the very next instant, time surged forward once more, rushing back with relentless force.
[BGM - M.O.V.E. - Dogfight]
****
"I'm so close…" Northern muttered under her breath, strained as her eyes locked onto the finish line drawing nearer with every step, the distance shrinking yet never quite enough as sweat soaked through her dress and her body began to protest, the effort finally catching up to her. The confidence that had carried her to the front now gave way to strain, her expression tightening as the burn in her muscles deepened. "I'm so damned close!"
Beside her, Seventh Heaven cast a brief glance in her direction, her own breathing controlled but heavy, her composure holding even as the final stretch demanded everything she had left. "You've run one hell of a race, Lights," she said, her tone steady, almost respectful, though her gaze hardened as she fixed it forward once more. "But you're running on fumes now." A faint edge crept into her words. "This one's mine."
"Seventh Heaven is beginning to pull ahead!" Akasaka's voice surged with urgency. "She's taking the lead as we approach the final two hundred meters!"
Both runners pushed harder, cries tearing from their throats as they drove themselves forward, legs churning, arms pumping with everything they had left as the roar of the crowd swelled to its peak, voices rising and crashing together as the entire stadium seemed to tremble beneath the weight of it. Heaven's lips curled into a grin despite the strain, the certainty settling in her chest as she felt the lead shift in her favor, as the finish line drew closer, closer still, victory now within reach, hers to claim.
And then something changed.
A sudden gust cut through the air behind them, sharp and fast, slipping through the gaps between runners with a force that did not belong to the wind alone, carrying with it a sound so faint and fleeting it could have been imagined, a rapid, almost imperceptible hum that brushed past them like the echo of insect wings in motion.
For a fraction of a second, both Northern and Heaven felt it before they saw it, an instinctive awareness that something had broken into their space.
And then, a blur surged past.
Their heads snapped to the side in unison, eyes widening, disbelief cutting through exhaustion as they caught sight of her, Melody, the figure that had been behind them only moments ago now slipping through with impossible precision, her movement fluid yet explosive, the emblem of the bee across the inside of her coat catching the light in shifting, almost prismatic hues as she cut through the final stretch.
She glanced at them only briefly, a fleeting look that lasted no more than a heartbeat.
Then she drove forward.
Her boots struck the turf with crushing force, digging deep as she released everything she had left, the burst of speed that followed tearing her ahead of them both in a single, decisive motion.
"Incredible!" Akasaka's voice broke through the roar. "Hachimitsu Melody has weaved through the field with unbelievable precision, accelerating past her rivals in a breathtaking surge! She's overtaken them both and opened up a full length ahead, this is something truly extraordinary!"
****
Logan tore his Ray-Bans off in one sharp motion, the suddenness of it matching the disbelief that flashed across his face as his eyes locked onto the screen, wide and unblinking. "No way…" he muttered under his breath. "No Goddamned way, that's the Royal Flush. That's Lucky's move."
Dahlia's brow lifted slightly at that, her attention shifting from the race to him, while Light snapped her gaze toward Logan with equal urgency. "Lucky? As in Lucky Strike?" she asked, trying to keep pace with what she had just witnessed.
Logan gave a slow nod, still staring at the screen as though afraid it might change if he looked away. "Yeah, one of mine," he said, his tone quieter now, steadier, though no less charged. "She was older when she came in, didn't have the raw speed or the stamina to keep up with the younger runners, so she had to fight smarter."
His eyes narrowed slightly, following Melody's line through the field. "She built everything around precision, around movement, slipping through openings that barely existed, threading herself between opponents without ever crossing the line into a foul. Then, when it mattered most, she'd take everything she had left and break for the finish."
He exhaled, a sharp breath that carried both awe and something deeper. "We called it the Royal Flush. Took months to refine it, and even then, it wasn't something anyone could just pick up and use." His gaze remained fixed, almost disbelieving. "But Melody, she just pulled it off like it was second nature."
Dahlia let out a quiet scoff, a smirk tugging at her lips as she folded her arms. "Guess that settles it," she said, her eyes drifting back to the screen. "She really is your kid."
Logan's smirk deepened as something settled behind his eyes, a quiet satisfaction threading through the disbelief as he slid his shades back on.
"Yeah," he said.
****
"Hachimitsu Melody takes the lead!" Akasaka cried out as the roars of the crowd grew. "Hachimitsu Melody is in the lead!"
Melody tore down the final stretch with everything she had, her boots pounding hard against the turf, kicking up dirt, her body lurching forward as every stride carried her closer and closer. He breaths came quick, her eyes narrowed as the goal grew closer. Behind her, the distance began to widen as both Heaven and Northern could only watch, wide eyed and dumbfounded that their victory was beginning to slip away. A curse tore from their throats as Melody cried out with all her might.
"Hachimitsu Melody is in the lead!" Akasaka cried out as the roars of the crowd grew. "Hachimitsu Melody is in the lead!"
****
"Go, Melody-chan!" Kitasan shouted, her fist driving upward as she leaned over the rail, her cry rising above the chaos of the crowd.
"You've got this, Melody-chan!" Diamond called out after her, her composure giving way to urgency as she stepped forward, her gaze locked onto the track.
****
"Come on, come on, Melody!" Okino barked, the stick of his lollipop slipping free from his lips, all pretense of calm abandoned in the heat of the moment.
Hana began as little more than a breath, quiet, almost swallowed by the roar around her. "Go… go…" she murmured, her hands tightening at her sides before the restraint broke, rising with sudden force. "Go, Melody!"
****
"GO!"
The C.H.A.S.E. observation room erupted as one, the collective shout crashing against the walls as every voice joined in, chairs scraping back as they surged to their feet, eyes locked onto the screen with a shared intensity that left no room for anything else.
****
"Hachimitsu Melody has taken the lead!" Akasaka's voice surged with disbelief and exhilaration as she rose from her seat, hands braced against the desk while her eyes remained locked on the track. "She's flying down the straight, no one can match her pace! She's overtaken the entire field!"
A raw, unrestrained cry tore free from Melody's throat as she drove forward, every last ounce of strength pouring into that final push, the world narrowing to the strip of turf ahead and the banner waiting just beyond it. For a fleeting instant, everything seemed to slow, her gaze lifting just enough to catch the line before her as she crossed it, the moment stretching thin before snapping back into motion.
"Hachimitsu Melody wins the Shūka Shō!" Akasaka's voice rang out, clear and triumphant, as the stadium erupted into a deafening roar that shook the grandstands to their core. Confetti burst into the air and rained down in a cascade of color, the crowd surging with unrestrained joy as fists punched upward, voices collided, and the name Melody echoed across the entire course. "An extraordinary finish! She overtook them all in mere moments, an incredible display of speed and timing!"
Momentum carried Melody a few strides further before she slowed, her body finally giving way as she dropped into a jog and then to a stop, bending forward with her hands braced against her thighs as she fought to steady her breathing. The noise of the crowd blurred into something distant, muffled beneath the thunder of her own heartbeat, but even through the haze, she could feel it, the truth of what had just happened settling deep within her.
She had crossed first.
She had won.
"Two minutes and fifteen seconds!" Akasaka continued, still charged with excitement. "What a remarkable performance! Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for Hachimitsu Melody!"
Melody slowly lifted her head, sweat clinging to her skin as her gaze turned toward the stands, and what she saw there struck her harder than the race itself. Everywhere she looked, there were smiles, tears, hands raised high in celebration, banners bearing her name waving through the air as children held up plush toys in her likeness, their voices joining the chorus that filled the stadium.
Her expression softened, the weight of it all washing over her.
And then her gaze caught on something still. Near the entrance to the underpass, just beyond the edge of the track, a figure leaned casually against the wall, arms folded, a familiar grin resting easily on her face.
For a heartbeat, Melody simply stared, her breath catching as the world seemed to quiet once more around her. Then Hornet's eyes opened, that same easy confidence shining through as she lifted a hand in a lazy salute, pushing herself off the wall before turning away, disappearing back into the shadows of the walkway with a casual wave.
Melody's lips parted, a soft smile breaking through as tears slipped freely down her cheeks, unrestrained now, carried not by doubt, but by something far warmer.
"Thanks, Mom."
****
"YES!"
Father Hasegawa shot up from his chair with a burst of energy that seemed to defy both his age and his usual composure, his arms thrown wide as his cry rang out through the office, filled with unrestrained joy. He moved across the room in quick, uneven steps, laughter breaking free as he grabbed whatever papers lay within reach, sending them fluttering into the air like confetti as they scattered across the floor.
"Yes, yes, yes! She won!" he exclaimed in a boyish excitement that had long since been buried beneath years of discipline and duty. "She won!"
The door creaked open without warning. An uma in a nun's habit leaned in cautiously, her eyes widening at the sight before her, papers drifting through the air while the usually composed priest stood in the middle of it all.
"Father Hasegawa?" she asked, caught somewhere between concern and disbelief. "Is everything alright? I heard shouting."
He froze. For a brief, almost comical moment, he stood perfectly still, his expression slack as though reality had only just caught up to him, before he hastily straightened himself, smoothing out his habit with quick, practiced motions as he ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back into place. A loud, slightly forced clearing of his throat followed.
"Everything is perfectly fine," he said. "There is no cause for concern. Please, return to your duties, Sister."
The nun pressed her hand lightly to her lips, a small, amused smile slipping through despite her best efforts as she gave a polite nod before closing the door behind her. Silence settled once more. Hasegawa stood there for a moment longer before slowly turning back toward the flat screen, where Melody's image still filled the room.
The smile returned, softer now, quieter, but no less genuine.
"The Lord's blessings be upon you this day, my child," he murmured.
****
Across Tracen, the reaction was immediate and overwhelming, the academy erupting into celebration as the result spread from one corner to the next, voices rising in cheers that echoed through hallways, training grounds, and common rooms alike. In the cafeteria, the energy was almost uncontrollable, Gurren and her friends leaping to their feet as the replay of Melody crossing the finish line looped again and again on the mounted screens, each viewing no less exhilarating than the last. Arms were thrown around shoulders, laughter and shouting blending together as they pulled each other into tight embraces, caught up in the sheer magnitude of what they had just witnessed.
Around them, the rest of the room was anything but quiet. Some umas stood frozen in place, still trying to process what they had seen, their expressions caught somewhere between disbelief and awe, while others had already launched into rapid discussions, chatter overlapping as they dissected every moment of the race, every decision, every movement that had led to that impossible overtake. Words tumbled out faster than they could properly form, the atmosphere thick with excitement, speculation, and something else beneath it all.
Anticipation.
Gurren slowly pulled herself away from the celebration, her gaze returning to the screen as the image of Melody filled it once more, that same moment playing out in perfect clarity. A nervous smile tugged at her lips, subtle but unmistakable, as the realization settled in fully.
Next year, this wouldn't just be something to watch. It would be something to face.
"Alright, little saint," she murmured under her breath, her tone low but steady, a spark of excitement flickering beneath it as her eyes remained locked on the screen. "I'm impressed."
Her smile sharpened just slightly.
"Let's dance."
****
Northern Lights dropped to her knees the moment her momentum gave out, her body folding forward as her elbows caught her weight against the turf, fingers digging into the grass while sweat streamed from her face and fell in uneven drops beneath her. Her breath came in harsh, ragged pulls, each inhale scraping through her chest as her shoulders trembled with the strain she had forced through the final stretch, her teeth clenched tight as frustration surged up through the exhaustion.
"Damn it…" she hissed, the word breaking against her breath before her fist slammed into the ground, the impact dull against the turf yet sharp enough to carry the weight behind it. "Damn it all!"
"Seems you underestimated her."
Northern's head snapped upward, her eyes narrowing as she looked to the side, where Seventh Heaven stood beside her, one hand resting lightly at her waist, her posture composed despite the race she had just run. There was no mockery in her expression, only a quiet acknowledgment as her gaze shifted toward Melody, who stood beyond them, bathed in the roar of the crowd.
"We both did," Heaven continued, a faint smile touching her lips as she exhaled, the tension easing from her frame. "I suppose there's truth to it after all, the weight behind her name." Her eyes lingered for a moment longer before she added, almost thoughtfully, "The daughter of Kadokawa Hornet, the Killer Bee of Strider, one of the Godly Fifteen." A soft chuckle slipped free. "She got us both."
Northern let out a sharp scoff, pushing herself up from the ground, her muscles protesting as she forced herself to stand, though the fire in her eyes burned just as fiercely as before. "This isn't over," she said as her gaze cut toward Heaven before flicking briefly toward Melody in the distance. "Not for me, not for you, and definitely not for her."
She tilted her head slightly, gesturing toward Melody with a subtle motion before turning her attention toward the leaderboard, where her name sat in third, the placement lingering there like an insult she refused to accept.
"You two can celebrate while it lasts," she went on, her jaw tightening as the words left her, "but I'll get mine. Just watch."
Without waiting for a response, she turned sharply on her heel and began to walk off toward the tunnel, her stride steady despite the exhaustion that still clung to her.
"You do remember there's a Winning Live, right?" Heaven called after her, her tone light, though it carried just enough amusement to follow.
"Screw that!" Northern shot back without turning as she disappeared into the walkway. "I'm done."
Heaven watched her go for a moment before letting out a quiet breath, folding her arms as she turned her gaze back toward the track, where Melody stood at the center of it all, waving to the crowd that continued to roar her name.
A small smile formed at the corner of her lips.
"Next season's going to be interesting," she murmured, the anticipation already settling in. "And I'm looking forward to it."
****
Up in the stands, the tension that had gripped every corner of the stadium finally broke, spilling over into celebration as trainers and teams alike gave in to the release of it all. Jo had thrown his arms around Musaka without restraint, shaking the old man back and forth in his excitement while Musaka grumbled under his breath, clearly unimpressed even as he endured the embrace. Nearby, Belno had pulled Ryan into a tight hug, her relief and joy unfiltered, while Oguri stood beside them with her usual half-lidded calm, watching the scene unfold as Ryan mourned the tragic loss of his popcorn, the empty bag crumpled uselessly in his hand.
A short distance away, Fumino allowed herself a small, genuine smile, the expression soft but unmistakable as she stood with Super Creek, both of them watching the aftermath of the race with quiet appreciation.
Meanwhile, Team Rigel had erupted into full celebration, fists pumping, teammates pulling each other into embraces as the weight of the victory washed over them all at once.
"She did it! She actually did it!" Okino shouted, jumping in place as his hands pumped in the air before he turned and threw his arms around Hana without a second thought.
Hana did not react.
Her expression remained as composed as ever, her gaze half-lidded as she endured the sudden contact with all the patience of someone who had long grown accustomed to such behavior. "Please unhand me."
"Oh, right, sorry," Okino said quickly, releasing her at once as he stepped back, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to recover, though the grin on his face refused to fade. "Still, that was insane. That move she pulled at the end. I've never seen anything like it."
"I have," Hana replied calmly, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose as her gaze returned to the track. "It originated from one of the Godly Fifteen, more specifically Lucky Strike."
Okino blinked, his eyes widening slightly. "Wait, you're telling me you taught her something out of Deschain's playbook?"
Hana shook her head, the motion small but definitive. "No," she said. "That wasn't me."
She folded her arms, her expression thoughtful now as she replayed the moment in her mind.
"She studies them obsessively, lives and breathes everything tied to the Godly Fifteen," she continued, "but it never once occurred to me that she would be capable of replicating something like that on her own." Her gaze lingered on Melody in the distance, something softer settling behind it. "To see it once, understand it, and execute it under that level of pressure without hesitation…"
A faint smile touched her lips, rare and unguarded.
"That's a kind of instinct you can't teach," she said quietly. "A kind of genius." Her eyes remained fixed ahead. "One she shares with her father."
"Well, I'll be damned," Okino said with a crooked grin, already reaching into his pocket as he pulled out a fresh lollipop, unwrapping it with practiced ease before setting it between his teeth. "If I'd known she was that kind of hidden gem, I would've snatched her up long before you ever got your hands on her."
Hana let out a soft breath, a faint smile touching her lips as she watched Melody in the distance. "I'm certain you would have," she replied, her tone even, though there was a quiet note of acknowledgment beneath it.
Okino shifted his weight and leaned back against the wall, folding his arms as he settled in, the stick of the lollipop tilting slightly as he spoke around it. "Still, you hit the jackpot with her," he went on, his gaze drifting back toward the track. "Then again, who knows, maybe I would too." A small chuckle escaped him as he exhaled. "Either way, next season's shaping up to be one hell of a battlefield."
Hana's expression changed at that, subtle but immediate, her eyes widening just a fraction as her gaze shifted toward him. "What did you just say?"
"A battlefield," Okino repeated, lifting a shoulder in a casual shrug. "You, me, Jo, Musaka, Fumino, every trainer worth a damn in Tracen lining up to make their mark." His tone sharpened slightly as he straightened, his eyes leveling with hers. "Especially with Deschain still out there somewhere, whether he shows his face or not, acting like a beacon to the entire sport that the throne of the Hand Of God's for grabs, and if anyone wants it, they're gonna have to pry it loose."
Hana didn't respond right away.
Instead, she stood there in silence, her hand rising slowly to push her glasses up the bridge of her nose, her gaze lowering just enough to hide whatever flicker had crossed it.
Okino noticed.
"What?" he asked, tilting his head slightly as he studied her.
"Nothing," Hana said after a brief pause as she lifted her gaze once more. "Nothing at all."