"...And that's how it went. That 'Goer' girl was a serious pain in my neck, let me tell you."
"I bet there was plenty of drama when you were heading to Japan, too, wasn't there?" Rampage asked.
"Oh, you better believe it. But in the end, I let my legs do the talking."
"As expected of an American legend...!" King whispered, her eyes wide with awe.
As they wandered through the festival, Sunday filled the air with stories from her racing days. It was a life defined by its ups and downs, centered on the unbreakable bond with her trainer and her deep-seated respect for the great Secretariat. Both King and Rampage found themselves hanging on her every word.
"She put up a hell of a fight, I'll give her that," Sunday said, her voice softening slightly. "I couldn't look away even if I wanted to."
"O-Of course she did. She is my mother, after all..."
King's expression was a messy tangle of emotions. On one hand, she beamed with pride at the praise given to the woman she idolized; on the other, a flicker of resentment and anger burned in her eyes—the pain of a daughter whose mother refused to acknowledge her potential. She couldn't quite decide whether to smile or scowl.
"Seven G1 wins, right?" Rampage mused. "To be spoken of in the same breath as 'The President' Symboli Rudolf... that's a monstrous achievement."
"Coming from the one person who stands above that level, sounds a bit like a backhanded compliment, don't you think?" Sunday smirked.
"Whatever," Rampage replied with a dismissive wave.
Hyperbole aside, there was no denying that Goodbye Halo was a titan of the turf. And there was no doubt that the world would be watching the daughter who inherited that blood.
"So," Sunday said, turning her sharp gaze toward the girl. "What kind of Uma Musume do you want to be?"
"M-Me!?"
"Yeah, you. You've made me talk about myself all day; it's only fair you give me your own story."
King faltered, her gaze wandering nervously. She took a long, stalling sip of her juice, but eventually, she seemed to resign herself to the truth.
"...To be honest, I haven't decided yet. I always thought I wanted to be just like Mother. I admired her glory, I respected her with all my heart... and then, out of nowhere, she told me I'd never make it. She told me to give up. Maybe I'm only doing this out of spite now. Maybe... I'd be satisfied just to hear her say I did a good job."
King Halo's entire world was built on the foundation of her mother. Her core motivation was a simple, agonizing desire for validation. She wanted to make her mother look at her. But she was lost in the woods, unsure of how to achieve that or what would truly bring her peace.
"No matter how hard I try, she might never accept me. She's so stubborn... such a blockhead..."
"Probably," Rampage agreed.
"Then just make her accept you," Sunday added bluntly. "It's simple."
King blinked in confusion at Rampage's casual tone, while Sunday just sighed. Here we go again, Sunday's expression seemed to say. What kind of madness is she going to spout now? Rampage took a breath, speaking with the measured, persuasive tone of a mentor.
"Listen. Goodbye Halo has seven G1 wins. In Japan, that's a legendary feat on par with Symboli Rudolf. And your mother clearly hates the idea of you racing. I can guess why, but she's not the type to budge easily."
"But you want her to see you, right?" Rampage continued. "You want to stand before her and say: 'This is who I am. I am your daughter, King Halo.'"
"Y-Yes... more than anything..."
"Then do it. There are plenty of ways to make someone like that pay attention."
King was stunned. Was there truly a way to force a legend like her mother to recognize her? She leaned in, desperate to know.
"H-How!? Please, tell me!"
"I can think of one way," Rampage said, a dangerous glint appearing in her eyes. "But I'll be honest: it's grueling. It's insane. But—if you pull it off, you won't just be 'world-class.' You'll be an Uma Musume who surpasses even me."
King's breath hitched.
To surpass Mejiro Rampage—the fastest, strongest, "Dictator Tyrant" of the world. The sheer weight of that ambition was intoxicating. Even Sunday looked intrigued.
"Conquer a G1 at every single distance."
"...Every... distance?" King whispered.
"Oi..." Sunday groaned. "You're starting with that crazy talk again?"
Rampage knew it sounded insane. As a trainer, her ultimate goal was to raise someone who could eclipse her own legacy, and she had crunched the numbers on this before. She had originally lowered the goal to a team effort for Pleiades because it was so unrealistic for a single person. But looking at King Halo... Rampage felt it wasn't an impossible dream.
"If you do that, your name will be carved into history in a way mine never was. Even I can't claim that. I could never handle the long-distance stayers' races."
In another life, the real King Halo had run the Kikuka-sho and placed a respectable 5th; she had the stamina to compete. In the "app" world Rampage remembered, King was one of the few who could adapt to any distance with the right training. It wasn't impossible. As long as they stayed off the dirt tracks, she could do it.
"...I'll do it."
"Hey, hey, hey! She actually took you seriously!" Sunday barked, looking at Rampage. "Now look what you've done!"
"What's wrong with a kid having a dream?" Rampage grinned.
"There's 'having a dream' and then there's 'suicidal ambition'!"
But King wasn't listening to their bickering. A fierce, cold determination had taken root in her heart. Conquer a G1 at every distance. It was a mountain of a goal, a beautiful madness. But her heart was racing with excitement. She wanted to run. She wanted to stand on every G1 stage in the country. Let them say what they wanted—she would run until she was an Uma Musume who could stand tall like her mother.
And besides...
"I am King! I shall be stronger, more brilliant, and more admired than anyone else! A world-class goal is the only thing fitting for me!" King declared, her signature laugh beginning to find its strength. "I've decided! When I enroll, I will study under you, Mejiro Rampage! You're the one who gave me this dream, so it's only fair you take responsibility for it!"
"Heh. You've got your spark back," Rampage laughed. "If you're serious, come find Pleiades. I'll forge you into something incredible."
"I look forward to it!"
With this person, King thought, I can truly shine. I can run past the 'elite' and find whatever lies beyond!
"Oh! There they are! Hey, Rampage! Give us a hand with the festival, will you?"
"We can speak Japanese, but reading it is still so hard~!"
"The translation apps are hitting their limit... I don't understand these Kanji at all!"
Almeccor and the other international students had spotted them and were waving as they approached. King stood tall, meeting the three world-class runners with a defiant smile.
"I am King! King Halo! I am the one who will surpass her mother and become the greatest Uma Musume the world has ever seen!"
"Hoh? You've got a good look in your eyes, kid," Almeccor grinned. "Scouting the talent early, Rampage?"
"Where did you even learn a phrase like 'scouting the talent'?" Rampage sighed.
"'Elite,' hm? I like that," another added. "I hope your excellence carries you all the way to the world stage. We'll be waiting."
King smiled, her heart finally light.
That evening, she went home. When her mother returned, King didn't hide. She stood her ground and made her declaration.
"I don't care what you say, Mother. I will never run away from the track. I am going to race. And I—as King Halo—will carve my name into history!"
"King... you..."
King knew her mother was about to protest. She didn't wait to hear it. She turned on her heel and went to her room to start studying the materials Rampage had given her. Her war had already begun.
As she watched her daughter's retreating back, the mother's face was a complicated mask—a flicker of loneliness, perhaps, but beneath it all, a quiet, unmistakable pride.
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