On the track, they had already cleared the first turn. In the blink of an eye, the second turn loomed ahead.
Deep Impact still held the lead. A length and a half behind her, Kitasan Black gritted her teeth. Her eyes trembled as she stared fixedly at the figure cutting through the air diagonally ahead.
Being passed by other frontrunners, having her position disrupted, getting forced wide on the turns… she had faced all of it since her debut. In daily training, she had gone through countless targeted drills under Yasui's guidance. Especially before and after the Satsuki Sho, she had practiced every basic and advanced technique for leading races day after day.
She had been confident that if this Training Race played out like the last one against Daiwa Scarlet, she could still seize the lead even against a senpai. Yet from the moment the gates opened until now, Deep Impact's running style had completely defied her expectations.
It was still early in the race, but the senpai had exploded with astonishing speed as if they were already on the final straight. It was only the first turn, yet she had used an outside acceleration normally reserved for the final stretch. She clearly wasn't relying on any of the leading techniques Kitasan Black remembered, yet every attempt to overtake her had failed.
No… this senpai wasn't just avoiding leading techniques. She wasn't using any techniques at all. She was simply faster.
That straightforward, overwhelming speed had kept Kitasan Black from closing the gap for a full third of the race. The breathing and stride coming from ahead remained frighteningly steady. Wood chips flew backward underfoot with every step, each particle kicked up in perfect uniformity.
The rhythm of her lower back was precise, and the sweat or dust on the hem of her running shorts spread into even ellipses at a constant rate. Her leg swings maintained the same tempo, tracing two near-identical ellipses when viewed from behind, like the swing of a mechanical pendulum. The crisp sound of her hooves striking the track came roughly every half second, and with each impact her shoulder blades rose and fell in perfect time.
What chilled her most was the arm swing. It stayed so precise and unwavering that it might as well have been measured with a protractor. Even through the strongest centrifugal force on the previous turn, the arms ahead kept nearly the same amplitude they held now on the straight.
So this is why Deep Impact is faster than me…?
Kitasan Black's lips parted for a moment, then pressed shut. Sweat from her forehead trickled into her mouth, leaving a salty tang. In her daze, the figure ahead blurred into a towering wall or a rushing snow-capped mountain. The wood chips she kicked up felt like endless powder snow. The swinging arms became the relentless clapper of a clock tower. Her footsteps echoed like deep taiko drums at a festival, solemn and unyielding. The slipstream trailing behind her surged like a tide, pushing everyone away.
How can I possibly catch up to a senpai like this…?
A sudden tilt underfoot and a rush of side wind snapped her back to reality. At the same time, a low shout cut through the gust.
"Hey! Are you planning to zone out like this in the Derby too?!"
She jolted and looked over in shock.
Behind the figure she had failed to overtake, a golden streak surged forward like a lightning strike. The voice rang out again from the tail of that golden light.
"If you've forgotten how to run… then open your eyes and watch carefully!"
Another jolt hit her. While she had been lost in thought, the race had already reached the final two turns. The golden streak chasing Deep Impact was Orfevre, who had been at the very back until now.
Her left shoulder dropped low, her right knee turned outward, and her calf muscles bulged and released in rapid bursts as her feet dug into the prints ahead. The sound of her hooves suddenly grew dense like pouring rain. A wave of wood chips flew up in front of her.
With incredible acceleration, her long hair streamed behind her like a lion's mane. In an instant, Orfevre nearly caught up to Deep Impact.
At the front, the unwavering stability Deep Impact had shown since the start finally showed a slight ripple. Her steady gaze shifted briefly to the right rear. When the golden-haired figure entered her vision, she let out a small sigh.
"…It's you, after all."
She murmured almost too softly to hear, then looked forward again. As if she had never noticed the pursuit, she made no move to accelerate and simply allowed Orfevre to pass on the outside.
"Hey! Even if you're a senpai, underestimating me like that…!"
Orfevre, who hadn't caught the earlier murmur, felt a spark of anger the moment she overtook. As one of the top Uma Musume, she could tell Deep Impact hadn't reacted at all to her challenge. For a second she thought she was being looked down on, and a low growl escaped her.
Mid-growl, something stirred in her chest and a vague idea formed. Before she could dwell on it, she unconsciously turned her head to look back, lips slightly parted.
Diagonally behind her, Deep Impact maintained her unchanging rhythm and was also glancing back. Further behind them was a small, sweat-drenched face twisted into a fierce expression. The muscles stood out sharply on her cheeks, her black bangs and white blaze whipped by the wind, veins bulging visibly.
The usual cheerful and lively look had vanished. Her crimson eyes seemed ready to split at the corners, and even the whites were bloodshot from sweat and strain. Matching that look of total exertion was a posture that drove forward with everything she had.
It was a sprint, but a peculiar one. Her upper body leaned almost parallel to the sloped ground, pressed extremely low as if her forehead might brush the track. Her swinging arms and churning legs had almost no room to move in that tight form, yet they somehow maintained an impossibly high frequency within that limited space. Her path wasn't straight up and down but followed a subtle sideways shift along the incline and curve of the turn.
With that ferocious expression and strange running posture, the usually bright and enthusiastic girl parted her lips slightly when she noticed the two gazes ahead, baring her white teeth.
"Seniors… don't… think you can shake me off!!"
For a moment, Orfevre felt the urge to look away from Kitasan Black's eyes. She forced down that hesitation and unconsciously smiled.
"That's more like it. What were you running before…"
"…Not bad."
Almost in the same breath as Orfevre, Deep Impact also smiled.
"This is what it looks like to want to win the Japanese Derby…"
She pulled her gaze away from Kitasan Black and murmured once more.
"Now then, let me see your final straight…"
Before she could finish, her pupils suddenly shrank to pinpoints. Faint but unmistakable, something terrifyingly powerful was closing in fast from behind. Wrapped in its aura, she felt an illusion as if all the strength in her body was being drained away.
There was no mistake. This was… a domain.
The moment she realized what it was, Deep Impact's surprise didn't fade. The question was… who?
She turned her head again. Her gaze swept across the rear and finally settled on a chestnut-haired Uma Musume.
…Grass Wonder?