(Japanese Derby always held in May. Several months (chapters) to go to Autumn session where Kikuka Sho—Teio stage where she might be shining as a winner or lose because of distance adaptability, and the season where Suzuka got accident.)
Chapter 34. Japanese Derby in a Dream (Part 2)
For Shuta An, this was precisely the race development he had been waiting for.
When Tokai Teio began to accelerate into the final bend, the shift was almost imperceptible at first—subtle, controlled, deliberate. Yet by the time he had reached the midpoint of the curve, Shuta An was close enough to count the individual strands of Yutaka Take's hair above Tokai Teio's saddle.
The gaze from behind was unmistakable.
Yutaka Take did not need to turn around to know who it belonged to.
"Ann-san is pushing up here. Is he trying to maintain a steady acceleration? He doesn't plan to have Tokai Teio burst with a final surge to shake off the opponents at the end."
The realization settled heavily in his chest.
"It feels like besides wanting to win this race, he's also pursuing something else."
But there was no time to unravel that thought. This was still the racetrack. Professional instinct overruled speculation.
"Let's just get Shin Horisky across the finish line first."
He frowned slightly.
"His steps are already starting to get a bit messy. I'll slow down a bit here to recover some strength. It'll be fine to regroup when there are about 400 meters left to the finish line."
Defeating Tokai Teio and Shuta An was no longer the goal. Not today. Not in this form.
All Yutaka Take wanted now was a result worthy of Shin Horisky's immense popularity—a finish within the top five would suffice.
Thus, with about 100 meters left before the final straight, Shuta An noticed something unexpected.
Yutaka Take and Shin Horisky were easing off.
They were yielding the inner lane.
Surprise flickered through him—but instinct did not drive him forward. Instead, caution surfaced first.
Could this be a trap?
"For example, later on, veering to the outside and, along with I, who is gradually losing speed, blocking Tokai Teio."
The possibility was considered—and dismissed almost as quickly.
Even so, he did not immediately seize the vacant position.
Shin Horisky had only slowed slightly. In that brief exchange of rhythm, Tokai Teio shifted from half a horse-length behind him to half a horse-length ahead.
The flow of the race had already changed.
Now Tokai Teio was just two horse-lengths behind the leading After Me.
"The reaction seems good."
Even Owner Uchimura Masanori, who lacked deep knowledge of racing, could sense it.
Tokai Teio looked composed—almost serene—compared to his rivals.
Trainer Matsumoto Shoichi nodded.
"Exactly. This pace and rhythm really suit Teio. Shuta-kun not interfering actually allows him to perform even better. Should I say he's truly the best active Racehorse? If it were another jockey, they would surely think, 'Teio is so strong, I must perform operations worthy of his strength,' right? That would easily backfire."
"It's the Derby after all—"
Uchimura Masanori tugged at the corner of his mouth. His right hand pressed against his chest.
"To be honest, I feel like I could cough up my heart right now with just a little effort. But I don't want to miss the moment Teio crosses the finish line, so I can only force myself to keep watching."
"I'm also very nervous," Matsumoto Shoichi admitted.
"After all, this is our closest chance to the Derby… If we miss it, we might never have such good luck to contend for the Derby victory again."
He clenched his fist.
"Shuta-kun once told me that Teio has the potential to become the next 'Undefeated Triple Crown.' This is where Teio's luck will be tested."
—
As they spoke, Tokai Teio, glued to After Me's flank, entered the final straight.
Five hundred meters.
Only five hundred meters separated them from glory that came once in a lifetime.
The commentator's voice rose in urgency, barely keeping pace with the unfolding storm.
"Yutaka Take is whipping! Shin Horisky, who had slowed down earlier, is preparing to accelerate again!"
"Leo Durban has moved to the outside of One More Live, adjusting his stride to prepare for the sprint! Jockey Okabe is challenging for his second Derby victory!"
"Iide Saison is attacking from the very outside from the rear! Jockey Shibata Masato is challenging the Japanese Derby for the sixteenth time! All his thoughts are concentrated on his whip!"
Every jockey poured spirit and strength into this stretch.
Some chased the brightest crown of their generation.
Some fought to preserve pride.
Some simply wanted to burn their existence into a stage they might never stand upon again.
Among the eighteen—
Shuta An alone seemed different.
After Me's deceleration was unmistakable. Though jockey Minohara whipped and urged desperately, Shuta An did none of it.
No whip.
No frantic motion.
He guided Tokai Teio outward, stepping onto the cleaner turf away from the churned inner ground. A subtle adjustment. A recalibration of stride.
Then—
They passed After Me, who had led for 1900 meters.
Effortlessly.
Tokai Teio took the front.
The commentator seized the moment.
"Just pushing! Just regular pushing! Jockey Shuta An hasn't even used his whip! Tokai Teio has already overtaken all his opponents and is now at the front of the pack!"
Three hundred meters remained.
The finish line marker was now clearly visible in Shuta An's sight.
His heart surged. The urge to command a final explosive acceleration nearly overcame him.
He suppressed it.
"Just maintain the current state."
His hands increased pressure gradually. His left hand shifted the whip from reverse grip to normal—ready.
But soon he realized—
That preparation was unnecessary.
Shibata Masato from the far outside.
Yukio Okabe driving from the left rear.
Their partners' strides were powerful—Yet not enough.
Not enough to match Tokai Teio, who was still running with elegance, with ease—almost leisurely compared to the frenzy behind him.
The gap was widening.
And Shuta An knew.
Tokai Teio had not yet given his all.
Fifty meters to the finish.
The roar of the crowd dissolved into a distant blur. All he could hear were her hooves striking the earth.
He glanced left-rear. Then right-rear.
No threat.
He eased his pushing.
Twenty meters remaining.
Another glance.
Yukio Okabe and Leodban—the nearest pursuers—were still five horse-lengths behind.
Victory was no longer a question.
It was a fact.
Shuta An reached forward and gently patted Tokai Teio's hind neck.
They crossed the Japanese Derby finish line in controlled deceleration—almost gliding.
"Following in the footsteps of the 'Emperor,' 'Teio' stands at the pinnacle of his generation!"
Amid the commentator's triumphant cry, Matsumoto Shoichi and Uchimura Masanori embraced tightly.
They had done it.
The camera zoomed in on Shuta Ann—smiling, holding up two fingers toward the stands.
Then it shifted to Yukio Okabe, exhausted, more than four horse-lengths behind.
No explanation was needed.
The director had said everything.
"Departing from Nakayama last December, securing his Classic Race ticket with a commanding win in the Yayoi Sho amidst the chirping of orioles, dominating the Satsuki Sho undefeated in three races during the third month, and now, at Fuchu Racecourse as summer approaches, guided by a master jockey, Tokai Teio is just one step away from emulating his great father!"
As the commentator summarized his journey—
Tokai Teio lifted his head.
As though he understood.
"Just one step away, huh…"
Shuta Ann lowered his gaze. The smile faded from his lips.
He stroked his head gently.
"First, don't get injured, and then we need to overcome the potential distance barrier. Only by doing these can we earn that most dazzling medal."
He looked up again.
Higashi Ikuo, the stableman, was jogging toward them.
"We can do it."
He murmured the words softly—yet with absolute conviction.
—
Even after waking from the Dream World, Shuta Ann's thoughts refused to return with him.
His body was in reality.
His heart was still on that final straight at Fuchu, still listening to the rhythm of Tokai Teio's hooves. More than the victory, more than the applause, what occupied him now was a single question—
Had he succeeded?
Had reducing Teio exertion truly lowered the burden on his body? Had he managed to change the future where injury once lurked?
He wanted the answer immediately.
But he understood the discipline of reality. Post-race examinations required two or three days. Muscle condition, joint feedback, subtle inflammation markers—none of these could be forced into clarity overnight.
Rushing would change nothing.
So he suppressed the impatience.
And turned his full attention to Mejiro Dober.
"After Dober debuts, the active Uma Musume of Team Sadalsuud's Twinkle Series will return to '2'."
He muttered this while reviewing the entry list for her debut race.
"Including Mejiro Dober, there are seven Uma Musume entered for this 1600-meter debut race at Tokyo. The most noteworthy seem to be Air Smap and GailythePride. The training data for the other opponents doesn't seem to require much attention."
His tone was calm, analytical.
To be honest, he had always assumed that Uma Musume who debuted early—like Mejiro Dober—would at least not have terrible 'Honkaku-ka' progression. If anything, early debut implied advancement. Perhaps even a step ahead of their generational rivals.
But after reviewing their training footage—
He felt only a quiet helplessness.
"Are these Uma Musume being arranged by their Trainer for an early debut purely so they can get more chances to run in maiden races?"
The gap in refinement was visible. The rhythm incomplete. The fundamentals still unstable.
Aside from Air Smap and GailythePride, he decided not to waste further energy on the rest. Instead, he replayed—again and again—the edited training clips he had assembled from Symboli Rudolf's provided footage.
He dissected stride length.
Hip drive.
Arm carriage.
Fatigue tolerance patterns.
Everything.
—
On Monday of debut week, Shuta Ann stood before Mejiro Dober with an unmistakable grin.
"I've already finalized the plan for your debut race. It will be given to you after Dober finishes her final fast work on Wednesday."
"Okay!"
Mejiro Dober's eyes shone.
Her heart brimmed with anticipation. The Twinkle Series stage awaited her—the stage where she would fight for the Mejiro Family's honor, and for the future once envisioned by her previous Trainer.
"Even if I can't step onto the Spring Tenno Sho track, I can still become the pride of the Mejiro Family!"
Behind them, Tokai Teio puffed out her cheeks.
"I really want to debut~"
"Teio, you still have to be patient."
Shuta Ann reached out and gently rubbed her head.
"Your era will come."
He believed this without the slightest doubt. The Dream World had shown him enough.
"Then I hope next year will be my era," Tokai Teio declared, hands on her hips, chin raised high.
"That depends on the 'Honkaku-ka' situation," Mejiro Dober reminded her evenly.
The word alone was enough.
Tokai Teio's confidence deflated instantly.
"I went for a check-up a few days ago, and the doctor said there were no signs of 'Honkaku-ka' starting."
"These things can't be rushed," Mejiro Dober said gently, patting her shoulder. "Just let nature take its course."
Tokai Teio glanced at Mejiro Dober's chest.
Then her gaze drifted elsewhere.
Mejiro Dober, oblivious, turned back to her Trainer to ask if there were any other matters requiring attention before debut.
—
Strictly speaking, this would be Team Sadalsuud's first Uma Musume to participate in a Central debut race.
Shuta Ann drew from precedent.
He copied the experiential framework from Oguri Cap's Yayoi Sho campaign and drafted a detailed list of reminders for Mejiro Dober—pre-race routine, warm-up pacing, mental calibration, gate composure.
He also reminded her to consult the Mejiro Family ranch.
For a Twinkle Series debut, the Mejiro Family would certainly have prepared plans of their own. Integrating both perspectives would be optimal.
But when Mejiro Dober asked, "What if there's a conflict between the two sides?"
He answered without hesitation.
"Of course, my side takes precedence, right? But if Dober thinks both sides make sense, you can ask me, and I'll make the final decision."
She nearly protested.
Was he underestimating the Mejiro Family's accumulated experience?
But the words never left her lips.
Because in recent years, the number of G1 victories achieved by the Mejiro Family was…fewer than those secured by the Uma Musume under Shuta Ann's training.
The reality was undeniable.
The Mejiro Family was still respected.
But it was nearing decline.
And to revive it—
There were only two paths.
One was for her to achieve results in the Twinkle Series.
The other was—
Her gaze shifted subtly toward Shuta Ann, who was now explaining recent training adjustments to Tokai Teio.
—
Sunday.
Tokyo Racecourse.
Only eight Uma Musume had entered. No ballot required.
On Friday, the gate draw was announced.
Mejiro Dober—gate 8.
The far outside.
"If it were a full field race, I certainly couldn't say Dober was lucky. But with only eight Uma Musume in total, the far outside gate 8 isn't a disadvantage—especially for an Uma Musume like Dober who is accustomed to running a closer's strategy. A far outside start is very suitable for a big outside rush."
His evaluation was immediate.
Measured.
Technical.
Afterward, Mejiro Dober informed him that members of the Mejiro Family would attend in person.
"Huh?"
His first reaction was genuine surprise. Then professionalism returned.
"Forgive me for asking, but does this kind of thing happen for other Mejiro Family Uma Musume's debut races?"
"Generally no, but it was like this when Bright-nee-san debuted. When the family believes an Uma Musume has potential and steps onto the debut race stage, they usually go to watch in person."
I see.
Compared to this debut race, he actually wished they would attend the Hakodate Nisai Stakes instead.
In his assessment, that race was more dangerous than the Hanshin Juvenile Fillies—Dober's major objective this year.
Hakodate Nisai Stakes.
1200 meters.
A distance that would severely test her burst power and, more critically, her positioning ability.
He was fully confident in the former.
The latter required race experience.
"Or I could consider having Mejiro Dober run as a front-runner then?"
The thought surfaced.
And was dismissed immediately.
"No. I still need to teach her positioning."
His conclusion was firm.
"This race is the perfect classroom. We can't wait until the big G1 stage to practice positioning for a closer's strategy, can we?"
Even if the planned race schedule required adjustment—
Even if short-term results were delayed—
It didn't matter.
Because what Shuta Ann valued was not merely Mejiro Dober's Twinkle Series campaign.
He was thinking further.
Much further.
Toward the Dream Trophy Series.
Toward a future that extended well beyond a single debut.
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