March.
A new year.
A new racing season.
The last remnants of winter were gone. The cold winds that had carried snow across Tokyo only weeks ago had begun to fade, replaced by the early breath of spring. Across the city, the first flowers were beginning to bloom again—small pink petals returning to the branches that had stood bare through the long winter.
With spring came something else.
The start of the **Umamusume Racing Association racing season.
The URA calendar had begun moving once again.
In early February, Forever Young had traveled overseas to the Middle East, beginning her campaign in Saudi Arabia. The desert air and floodlit track had set the stage for one of the most prestigious races in international dirt racing.
On February 14th, she won the Saudi Cup.
Again.
Back-to-back victories.
The first Umamusume ever to win the Saudi Cup in consecutive years.
Back home in Japan, another story was unfolding.
Agnes Tachyon had quietly begun her return.
Her recovery had not been dramatic or flashy. There were no headlines announcing her comeback, no grand declaration of dominance. Instead, she had chosen the long road back—starting again from the bottom.
Through February she entered six races.
Four G3 events.
Two G2 events.
She won every single one.
Her solution to her lingering leg instability had come through experimentation—unsurprising for someone like her. After weeks of testing, adjustments, and physical reinforcement methods, she had settled on a temporary mechanical aid: a high-tension compression wrap designed to stabilize the muscles and tendons during high-speed output.
So far—
It was working.
It was a cold March morning.
Not winter cold.
But the lingering chill that still clung to early spring.
Tracen Academy was quiet.
Most students were still asleep.
The training tracks were empty.
Dormitory lights remained dim behind curtains.
Only a few early risers were moving around the campus.
One of those places was the parking lot behind the Miho Dormitory.
Rows of cars sat silently beneath the pale morning sky.
Among them—
A red Lamborghini Countach LP5000QV, its aggressive wedge shape instantly recognizable even in the low light. Wide rear tires, deep air intakes, and the unmistakable scissor doors marked it as one of the most outrageous machines ever produced.
This particular one was far from stock.
Twin turbochargers rested deep inside its V12.
It belonged to Maruzensky.
Leaning against the dormitory wall nearby, Maruzensky pushed herself upright as she noticed someone approaching.
She raised a hand and waved.
"Chiyono-chan! Hey!"
Walking across the parking lot toward the cars was Sakura Chiyono O.
She gave a small nod and returned the wave.
"Ah. Maruzensky-san. Good morning."
Maruzensky scratched the back of her head casually.
"You're up early today. Anything planned?"
Chiyono nodded.
"Yep. I'm about to head out and eat breakfast before meeting up with Suzuka-san later."
Maruzensky's eyes widened slightly.
"Oooh! Suzuka-chan has something planned today?"
Chiyono nodded again as the two began walking toward the parked cars.
"Didn't she tell you? She's heading to Tochigi to drive one of the McLaren cars she'll be testing before the start of the Japanese Grand Prix next week."
Maruzensky snapped her fingers.
"Oh yeah!"
They continued walking.
The morning air was still and quiet.
"Say," Maruzensky said, glancing at Chiyono, "are you looking forward to seeing Suzuka drive those cars?"
Chiyono nodded without hesitation.
"Yep. First time seeing Suzuka-san drive a Formula One car."
Maruzensky nodded in agreement.
"Specifically an old Formula One car."
Chiyono shrugged lightly.
"Still a Formula One car, Maruzen-san."
Maruzensky chuckled softly.
Then her attention shifted.
Her eyes drifted toward the car parked beside her Countach.
A low, brutally aggressive shape sat under the pale light of morning.
A Lamborghini Aventador SVJ.
It was painted in a deep shade of Rosso Bia, the red reflecting faint highlights across the sharp angles of the bodywork.
Its stance was wide and purposeful.
The wheels were unmistakable—center-lock Anrky RETROSeries RS1, silver lips surrounding dark gunmetal spokes.
Maruzensky folded her arms.
"Gotta say," she muttered thoughtfully, "whoever owns that SVJ does have really great taste in cars."
Behind her, Chiyono chuckled quietly.
"They sure do, Maruzen-san."
Maruzensky stepped up to her Countach and reached for the left scissor door, preparing to lift it.
But then—
Something caught her attention.
She paused.
Turning her head slowly.
Behind her, Chiyono was walking past the Countach… directly toward the Aventador.
Maruzensky blinked.
"Uhh… Chiyono-chan?"
Chiyono stopped beside the driver's side door.
Maruzensky tilted her head in confusion.
"Where are you going? Do you need a lift? And aren't you taking the 308?"
Chiyono shook her head.
"No need, Maruzen-san."
She lifted a small key fob.
"I'll follow you if you want."
Maruzensky froze.
Her eyes widened.
She rubbed her left eye as if trying to wake herself up.
"W-wait… you own this Aventador?"
Chiyono nodded.
Then she reached under the door handle and lifted the scissor door upward with a smooth motion.
"You can ride with me if you want."
She lowered herself into the driver's bucket seat, guiding her legs under the steering wheel.
Maruzensky simply stared.
For a moment she said nothing.
Then she hurried back to her Countach, reached through the open door, grabbed her bag from the passenger seat, and stepped back out.
She pulled the scissor door down and locked it using the key cylinder embedded in the door frame.
Click.
Locked.
She turned and walked over to the Aventador.
Lifting the passenger-side scissor door, she slid down into the bucket seat beside Chiyono.
Both doors closed with a solid, heavy thud.
Maruzensky looked around the cockpit.
Carbon fiber surfaces.
Sharp angles.
Digital displays.
She blinked again.
"S-since when did you get one of these, Chiyono-chan? And you actually went through with the two-car thing??"
Chiyono pulled the seatbelt across her shoulder.
Click.
"Yep. Just picked her up a couple days ago."
She adjusted the seat slightly.
"I had some work done on it before bringing it here."
Her hand moved to the center console.
She flipped up the red start-switch cover.
Her right foot pressed the brake pedal firmly.
Then—
She pressed the Start/Stop button.
The L539 V12 exploded to life.
The cold start was violent.
The entire cabin shook as the engine barked into existence with a deafening metallic roar, the revs spiking before settling into a thunderous idle.
Maruzensky jumped slightly and instinctively looked behind them.
"What the hell did you do with the exhaust?! Is it stock?!"
Chiyono chuckled.
"Nope."
"I had a Brilliant Stardropper exhaust installed by Sasaki-san after delivery."
Maruzensky snapped her head back toward her.
"Any more?!"
Chiyono let out a dry laugh.
"Heh."
"The previous owner had the ECU tuned by an American tuner called Gintani."
Maruzensky slapped her thigh.
"Gintani tuned?!"
Chiyono laughed.
"I thought you'd like hearing something like that, Maruzen-san."
Maruzensky nodded quickly.
"Yes of course! But I wouldn't expect those words to come from you though!"
She looked around the cockpit again.
Then back at Chiyono.
"So this is your choice of a fun and fast car?"
Chiyono nodded calmly.
"Yep."
"And besides… I was eyeing this exact Aventador back in Naruto."
Maruzensky grimaced slightly.
"I don't know, Chiyono-chan… this car seems a bit… too much?"
Chiyono chuckled.
"I love the 308, don't get me wrong."
"It's like a restomod daily car. Sport suspension, F355 V8 swap… it's great to drive around."
Her hands rested lightly on the steering wheel.
"Although it's my daily, it's a car I avoid taking to track days or racing events whenever possible."
She turned and smiled.
"That's why I got this Aventador SVJ."
Maruzensky blinked.
"O-oh… okay…"
Chiyono nodded.
"Shall we head out? Suzuka said we'll meet up at the Daikoku Parking Area first before heading to Tochigi."
She glanced at Maruzensky.
"Besides, you already had breakfast right?"
Maruzensky nodded.
"Yep."
She pulled her seatbelt across her shoulder.
Click.
Then she grinned.
"Alright. Let's go!"
Chiyono nodded.
Her fingers pulled the right paddle shifter once.
The transmission engaged first gear with a mechanical clack.
Her foot eased off the brake pedal.
The Aventador began to creep forward, the V12 rumbling behind them as the car rolled out of its parking space.
Chiyono turned the steering wheel slowly.
The wide front tires pivoted.
The nose of the SVJ pointed toward the dormitory exit road.
Morning sunlight began to creep over the rooftops of Tracen Academy.
And with it—
Their trip had begun.
Time moved quickly.
The quiet early morning at Tracen Academy slowly gave way to the waking city beyond its gates. Traffic began to build on the highways, commuter trains rolled through their first busy cycles, and the industrial waterfront districts of Yokohama began their daily routine.
At the center of one of Japan's most famous car gathering points—
Daikoku Parking Area.
It was unusually calm.
During weekday mornings, Daikoku rarely had the chaotic energy it was famous for. No crowds of photographers, no midnight street racers, no lines of supercars revving engines for attention.
Just quiet pavement.
And a small gathering of machines that stood out immediately.
Parked near the restaurant building were several very recognizable cars.
The Kyoseki green Nissan Skyline GT‑R R32 V‑Spec II belonging to King Halo.
Beside it sat the lowered Mazda RX‑7 FB GSL‑SE owned by Symboli Rudolf.
Nearby, the black silhouette of Porsche 930 Turbo — the legendary Blackbird — rested quietly under the pale sunlight, belonging to Manhattan Cafe.
Next to it sat the red Honda NSX NA1 of Silence Suzuka.
And parked slightly further down—
A white Ford Mustang Dark Horse fitted with the Hennessey Super Venom package, belonging to Mayano Top Gun.
The rest of the group had arrived earlier on foot or by ride.
Among them were:
Special Week,
Agnes Tachyon,
Mr. C.B.,
Tokai Teio,
and Jungle Pocket.
But no one was really paying attention to the other cars.
Everyone had gathered around one vehicle.
King Halo's R32 GT-R.
It had changed.
The differences were subtle at first glance, but the longer one looked, the more the alterations became obvious.
King Halo stood beside the car with her arms crossed, watching everyone examine it.
She glanced toward Rudolf.
"So…"
She gestured toward the car.
"What do you think of the new looks?"
Rudolf narrowed her eyes slightly.
She stepped closer to the Skyline.
Then she slowly walked along its side.
Her gaze carefully studied the car from nose to tail.
The bodywork.
The ride height.
The wheel fitment.
Then she stopped.
She turned back toward Halo.
"It looks like a proper race car."
Mayano tilted her head.
"How so, Kaichou?"
Rudolf crouched slightly, bringing her eye level closer to the wheel arch and side profile.
Her gaze followed the line of the rocker panel and rear fender flare.
"Firstly…"
She gestured toward the car's stance.
"The stance."
"Halo had the car lowered further."
She stood back up, crossing her arms.
"And I do have to say… lowering it more than the previous setup you had was the correct choice."
King Halo nodded.
"Mhm."
Then she lightly pointed at the wheels.
"And since then I ditched the Work Meister S1 wheels."
Her finger traced a small circle in the air toward the rim.
"And got myself some genuine Nismo LMGT1 400R wheels."
She sighed.
"They… didn't come so cheap either."
Before anyone could respond—
Mayano suddenly jumped directly in front of Halo.
Her eyes were wide.
"How much, Halo-san?!"
Halo immediately shook her head.
"I'd prefer not to say."
Nearby, Jungle Pocket had already crouched beside one of the wheels.
She leaned forward and looked closely at the spoke design.
"What makes them so expensive anyway?"
King Halo answered calmly.
"It's because only one hundred wheel sets were made."
She pointed toward the rim again.
"Forty-four of them were used on the limited edition Nissan Skyline GT‑R R33 400R."
She let out a small sigh.
"Although… replicas do exist."
"And a lot of the ones I've encountered are actually very high-quality replicas. Same materials, same dimensions, sometimes even the same casting methods."
Jungle Pocket raised an eyebrow.
"Eh?"
She stood up and crossed her arms.
"So why not just buy a replica if they're that good?"
Before Halo could answer—
Tokai Teio chuckled.
"Because it's a hidden secret that King Halo-san often looks for parts that would work well in her R32…"
She paused.
Then grinned mischievously.
"…until her wallet goes empty."
King Halo's eyes widened.
Teio raised one finger.
"Like how she plays raffles."
"She keeps playing until she wins."
Then Teio slowly glanced sideways at Halo.
Who clearly looked less than pleased.
Teio's raised finger slowly lowered.
"Ooooor she… uh…"
"…empties her wallet."
King Halo immediately raised her fist.
"H-Hey!"
Rudolf chuckled softly.
"Pretty much sums it up."
She glanced toward Halo.
"Halo… you really need to give up raffles."
"Gambling is an addiction, you know."
Halo let out a tired sigh.
"I haven't even played raffles for the past year and a half."
She folded her arms.
"All my cash went to parts."
Then—
Their ears perked up.
From the entrance ramp of Daikoku Parking Area, a sharp mechanical scream echoed through the concrete structure.
A high-pitched V12.
Not the deep thunder of an older engine.
But a razor-edged, modern twelve-cylinder howl.
And then—
A downshift.
The revs shot upward for a brief moment.
The sound bounced violently off the pillars and ceiling of the parking structure.
Teio turned around immediately.
"Who can that be?!"
Mayano raised her hand enthusiastically.
"Oh! I know!"
"It has to be Maruzensky-san!"
But Manhattan Cafe slowly shook her head.
"No…"
"Her engine has a lower pitch."
She tilted her head slightly, listening carefully.
"This has a higher tone."
Almost analytical.
Like someone who had spent far too much time identifying engines by sound.
Silence Suzuka nodded.
"Almost like an Lamborghini Aventador."
"With an aftermarket exhaust."
Agnes Tachyon chuckled.
"And you can tell that from the noise?"
Cafe nodded calmly.
"I've had my fair share of encounters with Aventadors."
Suzuka folded her arms.
"Because it is an Aventador, Cafe."
Meanwhile—
Special Week had both hands clamped over her ears.
Her horse ears flattened tightly against her head.
"W-Why is it so loud?!"
Right then—
The car appeared.
A sharp red wedge rolled into view from the entrance ramp.
A Lamborghini Aventador SVJ.
Painted in deep Rosso Bia.
The aggressive aero, the center-lock Anrky RETROSeries RS1 wheels, and the low stance made it impossible to mistake.
Everyone's ears snapped upward instinctively.
Tails stiffened.
Then slowly dropped again.
Cafe blinked slowly.
"It…"
She raised a finger toward the car.
Then looked back at Mr. C.B..
"Did she really?"
C.B nodded calmly.
"Chiyono O really did."
The Aventador rolled forward slowly.
The V12 idling loudly through the Brilliant Stardropper exhaust, each pulse echoing around the parking area.
It came to a smooth stop in front of the group's lineup of cars.
Then—
The scissor door lifted upward.
And Sakura Chiyono O stepped out.
"H-Hey there!"
A moment later—
The passenger side door opened.
And Maruzensky stepped out as well.
Everyone stared.
No one spoke.
Chiyono blinked.
"Wh-What?"
Symboli Rudolf lowered her head slightly in thought.
Then she turned and examined the Aventador's side profile.
The sculpted air intakes.
The aggressive diffuser.
The rear wing.
Then she looked back at Chiyono.
"Did you really buy this Aventador, Chiyono-chan?"
Chiyono nodded proudly.
"Yep!"
"As a gift for myself after my winnings last year!"
C.B nodded with approval.
"Not gonna lie…"
"This one suits you too."
Cafe chuckled softly.
"Did Maruzen experience the Thrust Mode launch on this thing?"
Chiyono shook her head.
"Nope!"
"Not yet!"
Maruzensky suddenly raised an eyebrow and leaned toward the car, resting one arm casually on the roof.
"Wait…"
"Thrust mode?"
Chiyono glanced over her shoulder with a grin.
"You'll see, Maruzen-san."
Suzuka stepped forward.
Her calm presence immediately gathered everyone's attention.
"Are we all ready to head to Tochigi Prefecture?"
Everyone looked around briefly.
Then nodded.
"Yeah."
"We're all set."
"We're ready when you are, Suzuka-san."
Suzuka nodded.
"Right."
"Then let's move."
She raised her phone.
"Set your GPS for Mobility Resort Motegi."
Immediately everyone began moving toward their cars.
Doors opened.
Seatbelts clicked.
Engines roared to life across the parking area.
Inside the white Ford Mustang Dark Horse fitted with the Hennessey Super Venom package—
Mayano Top Gun pulled the straps of her four-point racing harness over her shoulders.
Click.
Click.
She tightened them firmly across her chest.
Then she glanced at C.B in the passenger seat.
"Ready for this?"
C.B nodded.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
Mayano grinned.
"Righty!"
She pressed the clutch pedal fully down.
Her left foot also rested firmly on the brake.
Her right thumb tapped the push start button.
The supercharged 5.0-liter Coyote V8 erupted to life with a deep mechanical roar.
Ahead of them—
Chiyono's Aventador rolled forward first.
Then Mayano's Mustang.
Then Cafe's Porsche 930 Blackbird.
Followed by Rudolf's RX-7 FB.
Suzuka's NSX.
And finally—
King Halo's R32 GT-R.
The convoy exited Daikoku and moved toward a long straight on-ramp connecting to the Shuto Expressway Bayshore Route.
But suddenly—
The Aventador came to a complete stop.
Inside the passenger seat, Maruzensky blinked in confusion.
"W-What are you doing, Chiyono-chan?"
Chiyono calmly reached for the ANIMA drive selector on the center console.
She pushed it to the right.
The mode changed.
Strada → Corsa
Then she leaned forward slightly and pulled the ESC OFF switch.
A warning light appeared on the dashboard.
ESC disabled.
Chiyono pressed the brake pedal firmly with her left foot.
Then she glanced sideways at Maruzensky.
"You might want to hold on, Maruzen-san."
Maruzensky's eyes widened.
"What?!"
Chiyono planted her right foot on the throttle.
The V12 screamed.
5,000 RPM.
A message appeared on the dashboard.
THRUST MODE AVAILABLE
Then—
Chiyono lifted her foot off the brake.
The Aventador violently shuddered forward.
All four wheels spun briefly against the asphalt.
Maruzensky was slammed back into the seat.
Her pupils shrank instantly.
"UUUUUGHHHH—AH—AAAH!!!"
"CH-CHIYONOOOOOO!!!"
The V12 screamed toward redline.
8,500 RPM
Chiyono smirked.
Her fingers pulled the right paddle.
UPSHIFT
The transmission slammed into second.
Acceleration continued brutally.
Another pull.
UPSHIFT
Then—
Chiyono lifted off the throttle.
Her right foot moved to the brake pedal.
The carbon-ceramic brakes clamped down hard.
She flicked the left paddle twice.
Third → Second
The transmission computer blipped the throttle.
Flames burst briefly from the exhaust.
Chiyono laughed.
"Haha!"
"That was fun, wasn't it Maruzen-san?"
Maruzensky sat frozen.
Her right hand still tightly gripping the door handle.
She took a deep breath.
Then another.
Then slowly exhaled.
"…Shit."
She swallowed.
"Chiyono-chan…"
She looked at her.
"Does this car really launch that hard?!"
Chiyono chuckled.
"Pretty much, yeah!"
Behind them—
Inside Mayano's Mustang—
Both Mayano and C.B were clapping.
"Yes!"
"Chiyono-chan!"
"That was fucking awesome!"
Mayano nodded enthusiastically.
"Now it's our turn!"
She brought the engine revs up.
The supercharger whined loudly.
Then—
She dumped the clutch.
The rear tires instantly broke traction.
The Mustang leapt forward sideways as the tires spun violently.
The RPM surged near redline.
Mayano grabbed the shifter.
Second gear.
Her foot stayed planted on the throttle.
The rear of the car fishtailed slightly across the lane.
Then she eased off the gas.
The tires hooked up again.
C.B nodded with approval.
"That was tasty, Mayano."
Mayano chuckled.
"Felt a little fishtail!"
Behind them—
The rest of the convoy followed.
Not launching.
Just accelerating smoothly.
One by one—
The engines of six very different machines roared onto the Bayshore Route.
The convoy continued north.
Leaving the concrete canyons of the Shuto Expressway Bayshore Route, they transitioned through the highways that cut across the countryside toward Tochigi Prefecture.
What should have been a two-hour trip slowly stretched longer.
Traffic.
Construction zones.
Delivery trucks clogging the passing lanes.
And the occasional tourist buses creeping along the expressway.
Two hours became three.
Three hours slowly became four.
By the time they exited the highway and approached the area surrounding Mobility Resort Motegi, it was already nearing lunchtime.
The group stopped briefly at a nearby fast-food joint.
Engines shut down.
Doors opened.
Harnesses and seatbelts loosened.
The girls grabbed quick meals before returning to their cars.
Soon the convoy rolled again.
Passing through the main gate.
And entering the grounds of the circuit.
Formerly known as Twin Ring Motegi.
But something immediately stood out.
The track was quiet.
No engines.
No tire noise.
No race cars screaming through the straights.
The circuit was empty.
No track days.
No spectators.
No other cars.
Only a few security vehicles parked near the service roads.
A couple of maintenance trucks.
And the group's own cars now lined neatly along the paddock.
Further down near the garages—
Several transport trucks were parked.
Large race haulers.
The group stepped out of their cars and began walking down the pit lane.
Their footsteps echoed slightly in the still air.
Silence Suzuka led the group.
Her pace steady.
Her eyes focused ahead.
One by one they passed the garages.
All of them closed.
Metal shutters pulled down.
Lights off.
No signs of activity.
Special Week looked around curiously.
Then she walked closer to Suzuka.
"Suzuka-san?"
She glanced around again.
"The track seems to be closed."
Her ears flicked slightly.
"Are you sure the folks you were talking about are here?"
Suzuka nodded calmly.
"I'm sure, Spe-chan."
Behind them—
Manhattan Cafe tilted her head slightly.
"Say…"
"How on earth did you even get to this position anyway?"
She looked at Suzuka carefully.
"Driving Formula One cars?"
Mayano raised her hand energetically.
"Yeah!"
"You yourself are a legendary front runner at the URA tracks!"
She pointed ahead dramatically.
"And here we are about to look at McLaren race cars you're gonna drive in a couple days!"
She leaned closer to Suzuka.
"You gotta tell us!"
"You gotta!"
Suzuka simply shrugged.
"That's a story for another time."
They reached the very end of the pit lane.
One garage door stood open.
Light spilled out from inside.
The group stepped in.
And immediately stopped.
Inside the garage—
Two Formula One cars sat under bright white lights.
One rested on the ground.
All four wheels mounted.
Ready to roll.
The other sat lifted on jack stands.
All four wheels removed.
Suspension arms exposed.
Only four mechanics worked inside the garage.
Two working carefully around the suspended car.
Two others checking the setup of the second machine.
And nearby—
One man wearing an orange McLaren shirt stood watching the mechanics work.
He heard the sound of footsteps behind him.
He turned.
Then smiled widely.
Opening his arms.
"Hey hey!"
"There's our superstar!"
Suzuka chuckled.
"Great to see you too, Zak."
They met halfway and exchanged a brief hug before stepping apart.
The man nodded.
"How's things, Suzuka?"
Suzuka gave a small nod.
"It's been okay so far, Zak."
He glanced over Suzuka's shoulder.
Noticing the large group behind her.
"I see you brought your friends?"
Suzuka nodded.
"Yeah."
"I wanted them to see the cars up close."
He laughed warmly.
"Hey, that's no problem!"
He gestured toward them.
"A friend of yours is a friend of mine!"
Then he studied their faces more carefully.
"And it seems like I recognize all of them too."
Suzuka blinked in surprise.
"O-Oh?"
He nodded.
"I keep up with Umamusume racing from time to time."
Suzuka turned slightly toward the group.
"This is Zak Brown."
"He's currently the Chief Executive Officer of McLaren Racing."
Zak stepped forward and began greeting them one by one.
His eyes first landed on Special Week.
"You must be the young Special Week!"
He grinned.
"Congrats on your race last week."
"Great dominant run!"
Special Week instantly blushed.
She rubbed the back of her head nervously.
"Ah… th-thank you Mr. Brown-san!"
Zak laughed.
"No need to be so formal!"
"Zak works just fine."
Next he turned toward Agnes Tachyon.
"And you must be the legendary Agnes Tachyon!"
"Undefeated so far!"
They shook hands.
Zak shook his head sympathetically.
"So sorry about your leg."
"Hope things get better soon."
"Get back on those G1 races."
Tachyon chuckled lightly.
"Well…"
"It happens."
"Us Umamusume are pretty prone to tendinitis."
"It's a risk we all know."
"And we take it."
Zak nodded.
Then he looked at the rest of the group, pointing one by one as he named them.
"We've also got Ms. Mayano Top Gun…"
"Ms. Manhattan Cafe…"
"Ms. Tokai Teio…"
"And Ms. Sakura Chiyono O."
He smiled warmly.
"Such a pleasure meeting all of you."
Then his gaze shifted.
Landing on Maruzensky.
His expression brightened.
"Ms. Maruzensky."
"It's so nice to finally meet the undefeated racer of her era."
They shook hands.
Maruzensky gave a polite bow.
"It's truly an honor to meet you too, Zak."
Zak nodded.
"The pleasure's all mine."
Then he turned to Symboli Rudolf.
"The Triple Crown champion herself."
Rudolf nodded respectfully.
"Nice to meet you as well, Mr. Brown."
Zak then turned and gestured proudly toward the two cars in the garage.
"Well?"
"What do you think?"
Cafe nodded slowly.
"They look incredible."
Zak pointed toward the car on the left.
"That one is the McLaren MP4/6."
"1991 Drivers' and Constructors' Champion."
"And the only V12-powered Formula One car to win a championship."
Then he pointed toward the other car.
"This one here is the McLaren MP4/5B."
"The 1990 championship car."
"Both machines were driven by the late great Ayrton Senna."
The group fell silent for a moment.
Even Teio looked stunned.
Zak turned back toward Suzuka.
"Ms. Suzuka will drive both cars tomorrow."
"And we'll see which one she chooses for Sunday's demonstration lap."
Suzuka raised a hand slightly.
"Will we be running full power and RPM for the test laps?"
Zak shook his head.
"We've limited the engines to 13,000 RPM."
"But you'll still have all the power available."
He clapped his hands once.
"Well!"
"I'll leave you to it, Suzuka."
"I'll see you tomorrow."
Suzuka nodded.
"Alright then, Zak."
"I'll see you then."
Zak waved as he turned and walked toward the back of the garage.
The mechanics continued working.
And the group remained standing there.
In complete silence.
Looking at the two machines once driven by Senna.
Suzuka walked slowly toward the McLaren MP4/6, her steps quiet against the smooth garage floor.
The car sat low and impossibly narrow beneath the fluorescent lights, its white and red Marlboro livery glowing against the polished carbon fiber. Even standing still, the machine looked tense—like a predator waiting for the moment it could run again.
She stopped beside the cockpit and leaned slightly forward, resting a hand lightly on the edge of the carbon tub.
Suzuka glanced inside.
The cockpit was exactly how she remembered it from the last fitting—tight, compact, almost claustrophobic. The steering wheel sat just ahead of the seat insert molded specifically for her. Switches, cables, and mechanical linkages filled the narrow space.
She looked up toward the mechanics.
"Everything's all set here, fellas?"
One of the mechanics standing beside the car nodded immediately.
"Yes, Suzuka-san. Your seat from the last fitting is installed and ready for tomorrow."
Another mechanic seated behind a laptop raised his hand without looking away from the data screen.
"We're ready for engine start here."
Across the garage, the two mechanics working on the McLaren MP4/5 briefly looked up.
One of them raised a hand.
"Sorry fellas, we're busy here at the moment."
Another mechanic turned back to Suzuka.
"Suzuka-san. Can you hop inside and handle the throttle and ignition?"
Suzuka nodded without hesitation.
"Got it."
She stepped closer to the car.
Placing one hand on the cockpit edge, she carefully lifted one leg up.
Her foot landed gently on the seat insert.
Then she lifted her other leg and brought it inside the narrow opening.
The cockpit barely had room for movement. She lowered herself carefully, sliding down until her back settled against the molded seat.
The moment she reclined into position, she was practically laying down.
Formula One seating positions were extreme.
Her legs stretched far forward toward the pedals, while her shoulders rested low against the tub. The carbon sides rose high around her hips, locking her in place.
Suzuka flexed her feet forward.
Her left foot pressed the clutch pedal down slowly.
The mechanical resistance was firm and direct.
Her right hand reached forward to the gear lever.
She moved it left.
Right.
Forward.
Back.
Confirming neutral.
Then she tested the pedals.
Brake.
Firm.
Throttle.
Smooth.
She pressed both fully down one after the other, making sure her legs could extend comfortably from the seat position.
Everything felt perfect.
Suzuka then reached back and gathered her long hair, pulling it over her shoulder. A few strands fell against the exposed carbon fiber beside her seat.
She gave a small shake of her head before raising a thumbs up toward the mechanics.
"Ready when you are, fellas."
One mechanic immediately moved behind the car.
He rolled the external starter unit forward and locked the shaft into the rear of the gearbox.
With a metallic click, the starter engaged the engine.
The mechanic then leaned slightly left so Suzuka could see him through the side mirror.
"Just watch the mirror, Suzuka-san. I'll give the signal."
Suzuka tilted her head slightly toward the mirror.
"Wilco."
Then she glanced over her shoulder toward the group behind the barrier.
"You might want to cover your ears."
Special Week blinked.
"Huh?"
Before anyone could ask another question—
The external starter engaged.
WHRRRRRRRRRRRRR
A sharp mechanical whine echoed through the entire garage.
The sound of the starter motor spinning the engine filled the space like a turbine winding up.
Across the garage, the mechanics working on the MP4/5 instantly stopped.
They rushed for their ear protection.
Fast.
Meanwhile the other Umamusume froze in place.
Maruzensky calmly lifted her hands to her ears.
Tachyon did the same.
But Special Week looked around in confusion.
Then she looked at Suzuka.
Then—
The mechanic gave the signal.
A firm thumbs up.
Suzuka immediately looked down to her left.
Her fingers moved quickly.
She flicked the fuel pump switch.
Then the ignition switch.
For a split second—
Silence.
Then—
BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP
The Honda RA121/E V12 exploded to life.
The sound was violent.
Raw.
Unfiltered.
A screaming mechanical roar that instantly filled the garage with an ear-splitting shriek.
The mechanic yanked the external starter out and jumped back from the rear of the car.
Special Week jumped nearly a foot in the air.
"WAAAAH—!"
She clamped both hands over her ears, flattening them down against her head.
The sound bounced off every wall in the building.
Suzuka instinctively lowered her own ears as well. Thankfully the padded ear covers she wore reduced the worst of the noise.
Behind the car, the mechanic quickly crouched to inspect the engine bay.
No smoke.
No leaks.
No loose lines.
He then stood and looked toward Suzuka.
He made a simple gesture.
Foot pressing downward.
Suzuka nodded.
She slowly pressed the throttle.
The V12 note instantly climbed.
BRAAAAAAAP
BRAAAAAAAAAP
The engine barked sharply as the revs rose.
The sound echoed violently through the garage, vibrating through the floor and the metal beams overhead.
She held the revs steady.
Then gave a few short throttle blips.
Seven seconds.
Clean.
Responsive.
She eased off.
The mechanic looked toward the laptop operator.
The other mechanic studied the screen carefully.
Numbers streamed across the monitor.
Fuel pressure.
Oil pressure.
Temperature.
RPM stability.
Then he nodded and raised his hand.
"Sensors are okay."
The mechanic nodded.
He turned toward Suzuka and made a slicing motion across his neck.
Shut it down.
Suzuka reached left again.
She flipped the ignition switch.
Then the fuel pump.
Instantly—
Silence returned.
The ringing in everyone's ears lingered in the sudden quiet.
The mechanic walked over and crouched beside the exposed carbon tub, resting one arm casually on the cockpit edge.
He looked up at Suzuka.
"How do you feel being back in here?"
Suzuka looked around the cockpit again.
Her hands brushed the inside of the tub.
The steering column.
The narrow carbon walls.
She smiled.
Then looked back down at the mechanic.
"Feels great to be back."
The mechanic grinned and gave her shoulder a light pat.
"Good to hear."
He stood and walked back toward the engine bay.
Suzuka placed both hands on the cockpit edge.
She lifted herself upward.
Her Mary Jane flats planted on the edge of the carbon tub.
Then with a smooth motion, she stepped out of the cockpit in one long stride.
Landing lightly on the garage floor.
She rolled her shoulders once and swept her hair back with one hand, giving her head a quick shake.
Then she looked toward her friends.
Every single one of them stood frozen.
Completely speechless.
Suzuka blinked.
"What?"
Special Week shook her head rapidly.
"N-Nothing! We didn't expect it to be that loud!"
Suzuka laughed softly.
"It's a Formula One car, Spe-chan."
She crossed her arms and looked back toward the cars.
"Of course it's going to be loud."
Special Week slowly looked back toward the MP4/6.
Then the MP4/5.
Then back to Suzuka.
"Are you really going to drive these cars, Suzuka-san?"
Suzuka nodded calmly.
"That's right."
Special Week's jaw slowly dropped.
"Th-they don't look very safe…"
Suzuka shook her head gently.
"Trust me, Spe."
She stepped a little closer.
"They are safe."
Then she chuckled lightly.
"Besides… they trust me enough to drive them."
Maruzensky nodded confidently.
"Suzuka will be just fine, Spe-chan."
Tachyon tilted her head slightly.
"You've seen her drive before, Spe."
Her eyes glinted under the lights.
"You'll have to trust her with this one."
Special Week looked around at the others.
Some hadn't spoken yet.
But their expressions said everything.
They trusted Suzuka.
Then Special Week looked back at her.
Suzuka pressed her lips into a thin smile.
And nodded.
Special Week slowly nodded back.
"I trust that you'll be okay, Suzuka-san."