Chapter 38. Good News and Bad News
The Takarazuka Kinen draw ceremony was never open to the public. Participating Uma Musumes and their Trainers were not required to attend—and even if they had wished to witness it in person, the venue doors would not have opened for them.
On the morning of the ceremony, Shuta An casually browsed the news, only for a breaking headline to seize his attention.
"Dream Boon, who had registered for the Takarazuka Kinen, developed a fever last night. Her Trainer announced her withdrawal from the race, stating, 'It's regrettable that we cannot participate in this decisive battle of the first half of the year, but health must come first. We do not wish to disappoint fans due to an unhealthy condition.'"
Shuta An's brows knit together as he lowered the screen slightly.
"Including Suzuka—that makes only twelve participants," he murmured. "The Takarazuka Kinen isn't even a full gate."
(Okay, so in real life situation, Takarazuka 1998, Silence Suzuka ran along Stay Gold, Air Groove, and Mejiro Dober. Here in the fics, Mejiro Dober was still in her debut years; so, Stay Gold and Air Groove might already enrolled as participants in this race.)
Because Oguri Cap had never contested the Takarazuka Kinen, this year marked the first time Shuta An would guide one of his own Uma Musumes onto that summer stage at Hanshin Racecourse. The inner turf under the blazing Kansai sun, the distinct rhythm of that circuit—everything about it felt new. And more than anything, he looked forward to seeing how Silence Suzuka would run.
That same morning, Tokai Teio stepped into the cafeteria after completing her workout. Mayano Top Gun had already secured breakfast, so Teio casually picked up a newspaper, found her roommate, and slid into the seat across from her.
After greeting Mayano, her gaze drifted to the bold headline dominating the front page of the Twinkle Series section.
"Uncharted Territory for the Master — Can Silence Suzuka Deliver the Team's First Takarazuka Victory?"
"Now that I think about it—" Teio whispered, eyes scanning the print. "Oguri Cap-senpai never ran the Takarazuka Kinen. This really is the first time someone from our team is taking on this race."
But her thoughts did not linger there.
Aside from the Takarazuka Kinen, which other domestic G1 races had she yet to challenge? In terms of prestige—the Spring Tenno Sho. She had not run that one either. And judging from Shuta Trainer's intentions, Silence Suzuka-senpai would not be registered for it in the future.
"But I'm different!" Teio's spirit flared, bright and irrepressible. "My goal is the undefeated Triple Crown! The Kikuka Sho is non-negotiable. And if I'm aiming that high, then of course I'll take on the Spring Tenno Sho too! When the time comes, I'll seize Team Sadalsuud's first victory in that race!"
With that thought blazing in her chest, Tokai Teio folded the newspaper and rose to return it.
Her steps were noticeably lighter.
Mayano Top Gun glanced at her roommate's retreating figure, tilting her head slightly.
"Did she read something good?" she muttered to herself.
Still, she chose not to ask. Even if she did, Teio would likely deflect it with a playful smile.
"Ever since joining Team Sadalsuud, Teio's been holding things in more often," Mayano whispered under her breath, a faint complaint slipping out while her roommate was out of earshot.
—
That afternoon, precisely on schedule, the URA Association updated its official website with the Takarazuka Kinen draw results.
Shuta Trainer sat upright in his office chair and immediately opened the page. His cursor moved swiftly as he scanned the entry list.
"Silence Suzuka… Silence Suzuka… Silence Suzuka…" he murmured under his breath while searching for her gate assignment.
His finger scrolled to the bottom of the table.
Silence Suzuka — Gate 12, Number 8. The far outside.
He stared at the screen for a moment, then exhaled.
"Well…at least it isn't a full gate," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Far outside, huh?"
Kitahara, hearing the muttering, turned around. "Ann-san, did Suzuka draw the outside?"
"She did." Shuta An gave a helpless shrug. "Gate twelve, far outside. Not the best luck—but we should be grateful it isn't a packed field."
"It should still be fine for her, right?" Kitahara said thoughtfully. "There's probably no one in this lineup bold enough to contest the lead with Silence Suzuka."
"After the Turf Classic Stakes, who would dare?" Shuta An couldn't help but smile. "Of course—if anyone wants to try, I welcome it."
"I doubt anyone will," Kitahara replied. "The previous front-runners already learned that lesson."
Shuta An leaned back slightly, thinking.
"The Takarazuka Kinen uses Hanshin's inner track. The final straight is relatively short. It actually suits Suzuka quite well. I imagine many of her opponents will try to accelerate early rather than wait for the homestretch."
His eyes sharpened.
"Maybe this time—I'll let her increase the tempo slightly. If they're misled into pushing even earlier on the bends, they'll burn through stamina faster."
The idea took root immediately.
First, he would call Suzuka—reassure her about the draw. Then he would finalize the pace distribution strategy that would allow her strengths to shine without compromise.
The phone connected quickly.
"I'm fine. The far outside is okay too."
Silence Suzuka spoke first, her gentle voice steady, as though she had already anticipated the purpose of the call.
"I was worried you might overthink it," Shuta An said. "This inner Hanshin layout suits you. I'll work out the pace distribution carefully. You've always trusted me, Suzuka—and I believe you can win this Takarazuka Kinen."
He paused briefly, his tone deepening.
"I've always known how much you want to win a G1 on home soil—to prove yourself. So let's do it this Sunday."
"Mhm. Win the Takarazuka Kinen—then happily go to Hokkaido to watch Dober-chan's race."
Her voice remained as soft as ever, calm to the point of seeming unaffected. But Shuta An understood her well. That quiet tone did not mean indifference. It never had.
"I believe you'll become a three-time G1 winner this Sunday."
Those were his final words before the call ended.
After setting the phone aside, Shuta An turned back to his computer. The 3D model of Hanshin Racecourse filled the screen—every bend, every incline, every meter of turf rendered in precise detail.
"Because Suzuka is a front-runner, and no Trainer in this field is might be reckless enough to challenge her for the lead, I don't need to factor in the others too heavily," he muttered to himself. "All I need to consider—is how she runs at her absolute best."
The complexity of the problem seemed to simplify instantly. He straightened in his chair, clenching his fist with renewed focus.
"All right. Let's begin. And today—no excessive overtime."
—
The next morning, Shuta An was shaken awake by a familiar voice.
"Eh—eh?! Ann-san didn't go home last night?!"
Kitahara had just stepped into the office when he spotted his friend sprawled out on the reclining cot. His surprise slipped out louder than intended.
Shuta An stirred, blinking away the haze of sleep before slowly sitting up. He ran a hand through his hair and offered a faint smile.
"Good morning~" he said, voice still thick with drowsiness. "I was finalizing Suzuka's pace distribution last night. By the time I finished, it was almost midnight—so I just stayed."
He stood, adjusting his wrinkled shirt with mechanical neatness, already shifting back into work mode.
"I'll head home and clean up properly. I finished today's tasks too."
With that, he walked out as steadily as ever, leaving Kitahara staring after him.
"First time I've seen Ann-san work overtime," Kitahara muttered, sinking into his chair. "He even cleared today's schedule in advance."
His expression dimmed slightly.
"I hope he can recalibrate in a day. It's the Takarazuka Kinen this weekend. If he's off his game, Suzuka will worry about him. And Ann-san knows that better than anyone."
—
Rather than driving, Shuta chose to walk back to the small apartment he rented near the Academy.
"Good thing I planned ahead," he muttered as he stepped inside. "Driving half a day just to shower would've been exhausting."
He peeled off his clothes outside the bathroom, pausing briefly.
"Sleeping on a cot isn't ideal—but I did catch some sleep. Now I'm wide awake."
After showering, he changed into simple loungewear and tossed yesterday's clothes into the washing machine. Once the settings were programmed and the drum began its steady rotation, he moved to his desk and sat before the computer, fingers steepled in thought.
"The Takarazuka Kinen is the day after tomorrow. Suzuka leaves for Hanshin tonight and enters the waiting room the following morning. Two days there. Hotel's already booked."
"I've sent her the race plan PDF. I can explain specifics anytime over Line."
"Teio's training is routine these days. Nothing special to adjust."
"I declined Twinkle Magazine's pre-race feature since Suzuka's competing."
"Oguri's busy with the Dream Trophy Series…and she said she'd be with Miss Maruzensky all day. No point calling."
"As for Dober, I told her to rest after arriving in Hakodate. It'd be strange to ask for training feedback now."
He leaned back slowly.
There was no one to contact. No immediate tasks to complete.
For once, his schedule was… empty.
His gaze drifted around the room before settling back on the screen.
"Then let's review this year's American Twinkle Series stakes races."
Europe wasn't even worth mentioning—there were too few significant races during this stretch of the season. Even if he included lower-tier events, he would exhaust them within an hour.
As the American replays rolled, one name lingered in his thoughts.
"Silver Charm…"
"She went 1-1-2 in the American Triple Crown. Lost the Belmont by three-quarters of a length."
He replayed the final stretch again in his mind.
"Stamina reserves were the issue. Compared to the winner, she ran one more Kentucky Derby. The cumulative energy expenditure was higher."
His eyes sharpened.
"If I ever trained an Uma Musume capable of challenging American dirt G1s—on the Triple Crown route, I'd only target the Kentucky Derby."
His voice was firm, analytical.
"Absolutely not the Preakness and Belmont in succession. Consecutive high-intensity G1s in such a short window place too much physiological strain on the runner. Among the three, the Derby has the highest audience engagement. It's the optimal strategic selection."
That was his conclusion.
As for turf races in America—he watched them too, but there were too few at this time of year to extract meaningful patterns.
"Compared to dirt, the competitive level of domestic turf runners is clearly lower," he murmured.
It wasn't a criticism. Merely an assessment.
And for Team Sadalsuud, it was favorable. Silence Suzuka and Mejiro Dober both had American turf campaigns planned. Weaker opposition translated to reduced risk.
Perhaps some Uma Musume thrived on overcoming formidable rivals.
Shuta An did not.
He simply wanted them to perform safely on the Twinkle Series stage—and accumulate as many honors as possible.
"Fortunately," he reflected quietly, "despite occasional differences in opinion, I haven't clashed with anyone on the team."
Yet somewhere deep in his thoughts lingered an indistinct premonition.
That day might not be far away.
When the final replay ended, he glanced at the clock. Almost one in the afternoon.
"Time for lunch."
He pressed a hand to his lower back as he rose. A dull ache flared from sitting too long, but it faded as he stretched.
There were no cooking utensils in the apartment. He rarely stayed overnight and had no intention of stocking ingredients. Eating out was the only option.
Thanks to Oguri Cap's influence, he was intimately familiar with the restaurants surrounding Central Tracen Academy.
Today, he chose a small establishment about a kilometer away. As he stepped inside, his eyes instinctively searched for the menu board.
Before he could locate it, a voice called out from behind.
"Shuta-kun? Did you also just get free at this time?"
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