June 14th, Sunday.
Today marked the race day of the Takarazuka Kinen—the midyear finale of the Japan Twinkle Series.
Shuta An did not watch the race with Kitahara this time. Instead, he remained at the training grounds, listening to the live broadcast alongside Oguri Cap and Berno Light.
"Takarazuka Kinen, huh…" Oguri Cap murmured, her tone carrying a hint of envy she herself didn't notice. "That stage must be even grander than the Tokai Derby, right?"
"Don't even bring up the Takarazuka Kinen." Shuta An shook his head, correcting her assumption. "Win tomorrow's Wakakoma Sho, and the Hokkaido Shimbun Hai Queen Stakes (G3) we'll be challenging in August will be far livelier than the Tokai Derby. Compared to that one—which is limited to Uma Musume from the Tokai region—the race gathers competitors from all across Japan. Its level of competition and prestige are both much higher. After all, it's a G3 major race."
"G3…" Oguri Cap tilted her head slightly. "And the Takarazuka Kinen is G1… Is the difference really that big?"
"Of course." Shuta An was used to Oguri Cap's unfamiliarity with the Twinkle Series' structure, so her question didn't surprise him. "Most local Uma Musume may never even get the chance to enter a G1 race throughout their careers. But a G3? That's attainable—as long as you can win up to the OP class."
Oguri Cap fell silent, her gaze lowering slightly.
"It's fine! Oguri is really strong! You'll definitely reach G1 one day!" Berno Light, sensing her friend's spirits sink, quickly offered encouragement.
"We'll definitely stand on that stage someday," Shuta An added. Though uncertainty flickered within him, he would never dampen Oguri's fire at a moment like this.
"But to stand on that G1 stage… that would be incredible," he sighed quietly, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
The day after the Takarazuka Kinen was the day of the Wakakoma Sho.
Early that morning, Shuta An drove Oguri Cap and Berno Light to Nagoya Racecourse. Even though she had been there once before, Oguri Cap's calves still trembled slightly as she stepped out of the car and gazed upon the vast track.
"It feels completely different from Kasamatsu," she murmured.
After parking and shutting off the engine, Shuta An stepped out and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "It's just a Tokai regional race. There's nothing to worry about."
The Gray Filly drew in a deep breath and nodded. "I'll give it my all."
"Rather than giving it your all," Shuta An muttered under his breath, "I'd prefer you conserve enough strength to win."
But aloud, he simply said, "Do your best—and have no regrets."
Since the Wakakoma Sho wouldn't start until 4:25 p.m., Shuta An took the two Uma Musume to explore Nagoya Racecourse in the morning. To keep Oguri Cap from overexerting herself, he avoided the bustling food stalls and instead led them toward Fuhama Park in the south.
"This is Ise Bay," he said, pointing toward the distant blue horizon. "Beyond it lies the Pacific Ocean."
"Wow—" Berno Light's small mouth formed an awed "O" as she gazed at the endless water.
But Oguri Cap, born and raised in Hokkaido, was unfazed. The sea was nothing new to her. Her attention, instead, drifted elsewhere.
"Beyond the Pacific Ocean… that's where Trainer's hometown is, right?" she asked, looking up at him.
Shuta An paused, then shook his head firmly. "No."
He waved a hand dismissively. "That place isn't my hometown anymore. I don't have one."
Turning toward her again, his tone softened. "For me, what matters now is guiding you—Oguri Cap—to the highest stage we can reach."
"I won't let Trainer down." Oguri Cap met his eyes, her tone resolute and her gaze shining with determination.
"I'll help too!" Berno Light quickly raised her hand, eager to join in.
While the three spent their time in Fuhama Park, a small Gray Filly in a Central Tracen Academy uniform arrived at Nagoya Station.
"The week after next, I'll be heading to Hokkaido for a 1-win class race," she murmured to herself, glancing at the map by the station. "I'll be staying there all summer… so I need to fill up on local kishimen before I leave."
Kishimen—flat noodles unique to the Nagoya area—were served with a sauce that blended Kanto and Kansai styles, seasoned with mirin, then topped with thin fish cakes, spinach, and fried tofu, all crowned with bonito flakes. It was a simple yet beloved local dish.
This particular Filly, after breaking her maiden race in Osaka that April, had tasted kishimen at a Nagoya street stall on her way home—and had been enamoured ever since.
"Summer is for eating kishimen!" she declared proudly, before finding a small roadside shop, enjoying a bowl, and stepping back into the sun.
"It's just past noon," she mused aloud. "Too soon to head back to the Academy. Let's see if there's anything interesting in Nagoya…"
Following her whim, she wandered until she stood before Nagoya Racecourse.
"A local racecourse…" She placed her hands on her hips, glancing up at the schedule board listing today's races.
"An OP race limited to debut-year Uma Musume, huh? That's so… local." She sighed, half amused. "Central hasn't even seen most of its debut races yet."
The idea of leaving hovered at the edge of her thoughts—but curiosity prevailed.
"Let's go in and take a look," she decided.
Standing at the entrance, the Gray Filly hesitated briefly, then stamped her foot with determination. "How could I, Tamamo Cross—a Central Uma Musume—be afraid!"
Straightening her posture, she proudly stepped forward—
"Little girl! You need to buy a ticket!" the attendant at the booth called out.
"Eh?!" Tamamo Cross's face flushed crimson as she hurriedly spun around and rushed to the counter.
By early afternoon, after a simple lunch, Shuta An led his two trainees back to Nagoya Racecourse.
"It's one o'clock now," he said, glancing at his watch. "Oguri Cap, you should head to the waiting room."
"Okay, I'm off!" Oguri Cap nodded briskly.
"Go, Oguri!" Berno Light waved cheerfully from the sidelines.
Oguri Cap didn't look back. She only raised one hand, waving lightly. "I will."
"There's no problem," Shuta An said, balling his fist in quiet conviction. "There isn't a single competitor here who can beat Oguri Cap. I knew that the moment I saw the entry list."
Meanwhile, Tamamo Cross, sitting in the stands, was fighting off drowsiness.
"Typical local races…" she muttered, half asleep. "The standard's really low. Even though I've only just cleared my maiden race in Central, I could probably win this by two lengths in a 1400-meter run."
If not for her curiosity about the eleventh and main race—the Wakakoma Sho—and the fact she'd already bought a ticket, she would have left long ago.
"Just two more hours," she told herself, "then I'll get to see what I came for."
Before the eighth race, the on-site commentator began introducing the Uma Musume participating in the day's main event.
Tamamo Cross wasn't interested—until the final name.
"Gate 12! The only representative from Kasamatsu in this year's Wakakoma Sho!"
"Kasamatsu?" Tamamo Cross straightened up instantly. "That's basically countryside within countryside."
"I didn't expect a girl from such a small region to challenge Nagoya. How brave," she murmured, curiosity sparked.
"Oguri Cap!" the announcer continued. "In her debut race at Kasamatsu, despite good track conditions, she posted a time comparable to those seen on muddy tracks. Afterward, she rested and skipped all races until now, directly choosing to challenge this OP event at Nagoya. This route is unprecedented—I can't help but wonder what her Trainer was thinking."
"Unprecedented indeed," Tamamo Cross agreed.
Even among local circuits, the gap in standards was immense. Within the Tokai region, Nagoya and Kasamatsu were the two main racecourses—each representing their own Tracen Academy. Naturally, Nagoya, the larger city, boasted stronger competition. Statistically, Kasamatsu Uma Musume rarely succeeded when stepping up to challenge Nagoya races. So in the eyes of most viewers and analysts, Oguri Cap's entry seemed reckless at best.
Not only was she the sole challenger from outside Nagoya, but she was also the least experienced—every other competitor had raced at least twice already. And to add to that, she was a Gray Filly. In Japan, there lingered an old superstition: gray horses never run fast. So despite her impressive debut time, most dismissed her chances entirely.
Tamamo Cross had thought the same—until she noticed the color marker beside Oguri Cap's name.
"She's gray… like me!" Tamamo's eyes lit up.
"Everyone says gray horses can't run fast. I never believed it, but I haven't proven them wrong yet either…" She stood from her seat, determination burning anew. "So come on, local Gray Filly—show them what we can do!"
Oguri Cap knew nothing of Tamamo's thoughts. All that filled her mind was one conviction—to win the Wakakoma Sho.
"Only by winning this can Trainer and I go to Hokkaido—to climb higher."
Sitting alone in the corner of the waiting room, she whispered to herself. Her eyes swept across the others—mostly Nagoya Academy girls, chatting and laughing together. The atmosphere was warm, lively… and utterly foreign to her.
"They're no different from those at Kasamatsu," she observed. "Before the race, always laughing. I still don't fit in."
She closed her eyes, steadying her breath. "Then the result today will be the same as back in Kasamatsu."
"I won't lose to any of you."
Rising from her seat, Oguri Cap strode out just as the staff called for registration.
After signing in, the exhibition segment began.
Oguri Cap, drawn in the outermost gate, walked at the end of the line.
Watching from the stands, Tamamo Cross immediately spotted her on the screen. "A Gray Filly, just like me," she murmured with a smile. "Alright then—for this race, I'll cheer for you."
Bearing the expectations of Shuta An, Berno Light, and even an unseen supporter in the crowd, Oguri Cap was the last to step into the gate. She ignored the stares from her competitors—stares filled with curiosity, skepticism, and disbelief.
'Give everything you've trained for. Pour all of it into this race. I will win.'
Click. The gates burst open.
For a heartbeat, Oguri Cap froze—then instinct took over, and she dashed forward.
"Oh no!" Berno Light cried out. "Oguri had a slow start!"
"Tch." Tamamo Cross frowned. "A slow start in a 1400-meter dirt race? That's hard to recover from."
Shuta An, standing nearby, overheard and replied sharply, "What others can't do, Oguri Cap will!"
Tamamo turned in surprise—she hadn't expected anyone to answer her—and found herself flustered under the Trainer's confident tone.
"You have that much faith in her?"
"Of course!" Shuta An pounded his chest. "I'm her Trainer. Even if no one else believes, I'll believe in her to the end!"
"Trainer, huh…" Tamamo Cross recalled her own Trainer—someone who had always trusted and encouraged her—and her expression softened. "Then, I suppose that makes sense."
Still, she turned back toward the track and added quietly, "But even so, I don't think she can pull it off."