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Chapter 17. Another Dimension's Fugitive Part 2
As Annus Mirabilis chose to play it safe, Silence Suzuka's aura sharpened even further, her presence on the track becoming almost untouchable.
After such a long absence, she understood clearly what her fans had been waiting to see. Fully aware of her own physical condition, she carried not the slightest trace of hesitation.
I'm running conservatively, she told herself. Even if Ann scolds me, that's what I'll say.
With only two hundred meters left before the finish line, she had already stretched the gap to eight lengths over Annus Mirabilis in second place. Even so, Suzuka knew this lead would not remain intact by the time she crossed the line.
For a front-runner, the final 3F sprint was always a disadvantage compared to those chasing from behind. If she could still suppress them in that phase, then the difference between them was not merely large—it was absolute.
Far away in Japan, beneath the quiet of late night, Tokai Teio and Kurofune sat together, watching the broadcast.
As for Mejiro Dober, though she had wanted to watch just as much, the upcoming Oka Sho forced her to maintain strict discipline. In the end, only Teio and Kurofune stayed up, secretly following the race from afar.
"Hmm~ if the Trainer accompaniment slots hadn't gone to Oguri-senpai and the others, we could've watched it live," Teio muttered, her tone turning casual now that the outcome was all but decided. "We could've explored Dubai properly too."
"There will be other chances," Kurofune replied calmly.
Having visited Dubai before with her family, she didn't hold any particular fascination for it. As for Meydan Racecourse, though she had never been there, she imagined it wouldn't differ too much from Tokyo or Churchill Downs—aside from being more extravagant.
Teio shook her head slightly.
"It's a pity none of the races on Dubai World Cup Day interest me."
"Isn't the Dubai Sheema Classic perfect for you, Teio-senpai?" Kurofune asked, puzzled.
"2410 meters does suit me," Teio said, glancing at her. "But the opponents are too weak."
She paused briefly before continuing, her voice carrying a quiet certainty.
"If I step onto the Twinkle Series stage and head overseas as an older Uma Musume—then I'll go to Europe. I want to conquer those historic races."
"Ugh…" Kurofune could only let out an awkward sound, unable to respond.
That kind of future still felt distant to her. Even her own path remained unclear. Relying solely on Shuta Trainer's guidance, she had yet to truly define what lay ahead.
Back on the track, as Silence Suzuka passed the 100-meter mark, the commentators had already begun their celebration.
"Silence Suzuka has ignited Meydan Racecourse with an unbelievable roar!"
"Her Trainer once said she would challenge races across the world—after today's performance, Europe is absolutely within reach!"
"He said he would carve her name into the history of the Twinkle Series! What we're witnessing now may become its most dazzling illustration!"
"Seven lengths! She has completely shaken off every challenger! From the very start, no one could even touch her shadow! The world's runaway—fearless, unstoppable—displaying a perfect grand escape!"
"Last year's injury has left no trace in her heart! The run she couldn't show here before—she delivers it now! Trying to pressure her from behind? Trying to seize the lead at the start? Against last year's Tenno Sho (Autumn) champion, those thoughts remain nothing but fantasy!"
With less than twenty meters remaining, and still no footsteps behind her, Suzuka casually turned her head.
"Still that far behind—"
The slight turn caused her to slow, but it no longer mattered. By the time her gaze swept across the stands, she had already crossed the finish line.
As she gradually reined in her speed, a voice from the broadcast reached her ears.
"Silence Suzuka of the world! This is her final year in the Twinkle Series—please keep your eyes on her! We may never witness such a scene again!"
Suzuka lowered her gaze slightly.
"It's not impossible to see it again," she murmured. "I'm not someone that special."
In the VIP box, the moment the result was decided, Shuta An rose to his feet.
"I'm heading down."
"Congratulations, congratulations. That was a beautiful victory," Kitahara said with a smile.
"Truly incredible…" Tojo Hana's expression was the most complicated of all. After all, Suzuka's performance during her time in Team Rigil had been far from this level. At best, one could only attribute it to her incomplete development back then.
Nishizaki Ryu, on the other hand, was openly delighted. Given Suzuka's close relationship with Special Week, he saw this victory as a promising sign for Team Spica.
The remaining two shared similar thoughts—this result was something Shuta An had earned. His strategy had been flawless; the only reason previous races had fallen short lay in the Uma Musume's limitations, not his decisions.
"1:44.9! A new race record!"
By the time Shuta An reached trackside, the announcement echoed through the venue.
"Oh… this level of intensity," he murmured, raising an eyebrow. "To be honest, trying Europe might not be out of reach."
For a fleeting moment, the idea took root in his mind.
But the instant Silence Suzuka leapt into his arms, that thought vanished completely as he steadied himself and caught her.
"Ann! I did it!"
"Suzuka, that was even more incredible than I imagined," he said softly, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You've answered the fans' expectations perfectly. I'm even more confident about what comes next."
"Me too!"
She nodded brightly—only to bump her head straight into his chin.
"Ouch—!"
In the Dubai Sheema Classic, El Condor Pasa once again defeated Special Week. Yet compared to their previous clash—where the margin had been three lengths—this time, the gap had narrowed to just one and a half.
Though the result left Special Week visibly disappointed, she did not allow herself to fall into despair.
"Next time I face El—I'll win it back!"
After the race, Tojo Hana addressed the reporters, calmly outlining the upcoming plans. El Condor Pasa's next target would be the Prix d'Ispahan, a 1850-meter G1 turf race held at Longchamp Racecourse in France at the end of May. As for the broader objective of the year, it was clear—the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe.
At the same time, Taiki Shuttle would head to England for the Lockinge Stakes, a 1600-meter G1 turf race at Newbury in mid-May. Unlike El Condor Pasa, however, this would mark the final stop of her overseas campaign. Afterward, she would return to Japan to conclude her Twinkle Series career with the Yasuda Kinen and the Mile Championship.
Meanwhile, the Dubai World Cup itself was claimed by Almutawakel, an Uma Musume of European origin who had been naturalized by the UAE. Though not native-born, the result still satisfied the local crowd. There was always a special thrill in watching a representative of one's home turf defeat powerful challengers from abroad.
Before the Winning Live performances began, Shuta An stepped outside for some air—only to find himself quickly surrounded by reporters. Their focus was unmistakable: the future of Silence Suzuka, now crowned the queen of the Dubai Turf.
"The next race hasn't been fully decided yet," Shuta An said evenly. "But similar to El Condor Pasa, we plan for Suzuka to remain overseas for the entire year."
"Is the reason for that decision the same as Miss El Condor Pasa's?" one reporter pressed.
The implication was obvious. Within the industry, it was no secret that El Condor Pasa's overseas campaign stemmed from the Japan URA Association's refusal to approve her participation in the Takarazuka Kinen and Tenno Sho (Autumn). In response, she had chosen to forgo domestic races altogether.
Shuta An shook his head.
"No. Our reasoning is simpler. Continuing to challenge G1 races in Japan no longer holds meaning for us. Since Suzuka is called 'the world's runaway,' then we intend to race in places no Japanese Uma Musume has reached before… and make that title truly worthy of its name."
The statement spread rapidly once published.
Upon hearing it, Symboli Rudolf couldn't help but feel a headache forming. Without Silence Suzuka—and with El Condor Pasa already absent—the so-called "Golden Generation" would lose much of its appeal.
Yet after a moment's thought, she could only sigh inwardly. After all, that very concept had been proposed by Shuta An himself. The URA Association had little ground to object.
"Still, I should prepare the promised reward," she murmured to herself.
Following the conclusion of the Winning Live, the Dubai URA Association hosted a grand closing banquet. However, after offering brief greetings, Shuta An and Silence Suzuka quietly returned to their rooms, choosing not to attend.
Sheikh Rashid bin Dalmouk Al Maktoum felt a trace of regret at their absence, but he understood. After a major race, seeking personal rest and solitude was only natural.
Yet what surprised him was this—Shuta An did not bring Silence Suzuka back with him.
Halfway to the rooms, the Uma Musume had already slipped away, saying she needed to prepare something.
Back in his room, Shuta An took a bath, changed into his pajamas, and sat down at his desk. Opening his laptop, he began filling out an entry form.
On the way back earlier, as he held Silence Suzuka's hand, he had carefully observed her condition. Her gait remained steady, untroubled—there were no signs of injury from the Dubai Turf. With that confirmation, he made his decision.
The Queen Elizabeth II Cup in Hong Kong.
After completing the form, he sent it directly to the Hong Kong URA Association. He had not notified them in advance, meaning that, in the quiet of the night, no immediate response would come.
But that didn't bother him.
In fact, he found himself faintly anticipating their reaction the next day—and perhaps even the stir it would cause among the ever-watchful reporters.
Just as he finished, a knock sounded at the door.
Shuta An rose and opened it himself.
Standing there, just as expected, was Silence Suzuka—dressed in an elegant emerald-green dress.
Earlier, Oguri Cap and Berno Light had thoughtfully informed them they wouldn't intrude. With that assurance, Shuta An reached out, gently taking Suzuka's hand and leading her inside.
"It's just the two of us…" Suzuka murmured softly, her eyes flickering as if searching for something to anchor her thoughts.
"Yes," he replied, closing the door behind them. "Just the two of us."
At the sound of the door clicking shut, Suzuka instinctively leaned into his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoed clearly in her ears, and the warmth between them caused a faint blush to bloom across her cheeks.
This was a moment she had longed for—for more than half a year.
Yet now that it had finally come, her heart raced even faster than it had at the starting gate. Words failed her. All she could do was cling to him tightly, waiting— hoping he would say something.
Shuta An lowered his head slightly, breathing in the subtle fragrance surrounding her.
Sweet fig, softened with a milky smoothness, laced with the delicate freshness of jasmine. It was different from the woody scents she usually wore—lighter, softer… unmistakably more feminine. And it suited her.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. They simply remained there, close enough to feel each other's breath, their gazes quietly locked.
Shuta An's throat moved as he swallowed. Then, without another word, he bent down and wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her effortlessly into a princess carry.
Unable to put his feelings into words, he chose action instead.
Suzuka tightened her grip on his pajamas, her fingers trembling slightly. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes—her posture soft, unguarded, as if offering herself wholly to the moment.
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