The Japanese Oaks had concluded with Oguri Roman's victory, leaving the final act of the Triple Tiara to be settled at the Shuka Sho. While the public was abuzz with speculation—wondering if the season would end with a Double Crown for Dragoon Lance or Oguri Roman, or if Hishi Amazon's counterattack would see the "Big Three" split the titles—the world was already being swept up in a new, more fervent heat.
With the Oaks finished, the stage was set for the "Festival of Japan": the Tokyo Yushun—the Japan Derby.
"Your arm swing is weak, Brian! Laurel is coming for you, and she's coming hard. Get your head in the game!"
"Right!"
Narita Brian, the undefeated contender for the Triple Crown, had emerged once more from Team Rigil. As the younger sister of Biwa Hayahide—one of the legendary BNW trio—her strength was beyond reproach. Some had even begun to whisper that she might surpass the "Emperor," Symboli Rudolf herself. Brian, however, remained indifferent to such accolades. She didn't have the luxury of being distracted by praise.
"…One more set."
"Take a break," Trainer Tojo interjected, her voice sharp with concern. "Your pace is too high."
"If I can't handle this much, I won't beat her."
Tojo's words were drowned out by the memory playing on a loop in Brian's mind. The Satsuki Sho—the race that had defined her current reputation. The world saw that victory as proof of her overwhelming dominance, but Brian couldn't bring herself to bask in it.
"I see… I see, I see. Heh…"
That smile. Sakura Laurel of Team Canopus had looked at her and laughed. To Laurel, the Satsuki Sho hadn't been a final destination; it had been a mere litmus test to measure Brian's strength. There was no doubt that Laurel would be the greatest obstacle at the Derby. Offside Trap was a formidable threat in his own right, yet Brian's focus remained obsessively tethered to Laurel and that haunting smile.
She knew that at the Derby, Laurel would come at her with everything she had. To withstand that, Brian felt she had to push herself to the absolute limit. Though the race was only days away, her training volume continued to spiral upward.
"Brian, that's enough. If you don't let the fatigue drain out now, you won't be able to run your race at the Derby."
"I know that. But… at this level, I don't feel like I can win!"
"That is exactly why, Sister," Hayahide stepped in, her voice calm but firm. "What you need now is steady accumulation. You've done enough for today. Your next job is to eat and rebuild your body for the sake of who you'll be tomorrow."
"…Fine. I'll go wash off the sweat."
Only then did Brian finally pull off her racing flats and swap them for her walking shoes, heading toward the showers. Once she was out of earshot, Hayahide and Tojo shared a heavy sigh.
"Hah… I appreciate the passion, but this is getting to be a bit much," Tojo muttered.
"My apologies, Hana-san. My sister is being… difficult."
Hayahide offered a bow of apology, but Tojo didn't blame her. They were both in the same boat. Brian was objectively stronger than she had been at the Satsuki Sho; her times were better, her form more refined. Brian surely knew this herself, yet she remained utterly unsatisfied. While "ambition" was a polite way to describe it, at this stage, it was a liability. An obsessive drive was far more dangerous than a lack of motivation.
"She's always struggled with containing herself," Hayahide noted. "She has a certain… intensity."
Hayahide knew her sister possessed a potential far greater than her own. She had always sensed Brian's quiet frustration at the lack of true rivals—the irritation of a predator with nothing to hunt. Hayahide assumed this was simply the burning desire to defeat a worthy opponent like Laurel.
Tojo, however, saw something different.
"It's not a hunger for victory," Tojo said quietly. "She isn't just looking for a rival. That look in her eyes… it's pure fear."
"Fear? You think it's because of the Satsuki Sho?"
Sakura Laurel was an enigma, an eerie presence who was undoubtedly coming for the crown. To any observer, Laurel was a natural-born stayer. If she could perform like that at 2000 meters, she would be even more devastating at the Derby's 2400.
"Brian knows she can perform at the Derby. She knows her own strength," Tojo continued. "But she's terrified by the fact that while Laurel recognizes her as an opponent, Laurel isn't actually looking at her."
"Acknowledged as an enemy, but not seen as one… that's a sensation I don't think I can wrap my head around," Hayahide admitted.
"Most people wouldn't."
For Hayahide, who was blessed with straightforward rivals like Winning Ticket and Narita Taishin—rivals who looked her in the eye and fought with everything they had—the psychological vacuum Brian was experiencing was alien.
"If there's one thing I can say for sure…" Tojo began.
"Yes?"
"The Derby is going to be a true trial for Brian."
In the shower, hot water streamed over Brian's shoulders, washing away the salt and grit of the track. She had set the temperature high, yet the heat failed to reach her core. She stood under the spray, letting the water drench her head, but her mind wouldn't clear.
Ever since that day—ever since the Satsuki Sho—she hadn't been able to shake this internal chill. No matter how hot the bath, no matter how warm the meal, no matter how much spicy food she ate to work up a sweat, the cold remained.
(Laurel…)
That smile. That shiver. It was buried deep in her bones.
"Will the chill go away if I win…?" she whispered to the tiles.
Victory usually brought fulfillment. The stronger the opponent, the more she was flooded with a sense of euphoria and completion. But the Satsuki Sho had left her with nothing but a hollow void. She could still see it vividly: the image of the loser walking away without even glancing back at the winner.
"You're in here a long time."
"…Senior."
"Mind if I take the one next to you?"
The newcomer was Rampage, a girl Brian deeply respected. She, too, began washing away the sweat of the day. Judging by her breathing, she had been running hard. Brian instinctively knew she hadn't been training against the rest of Team Pleiades; she had been doing something else entirely.
"Were you training with Laurel?" Brian asked.
"You can tell? Man, Minami-chan really works me to the bone. I guess that's the price of being fond of someone—it's a real pain in the neck."
Rampage grumbled as she scrubbed her hair. Only a handful of people could truly boss Rampage around: the Mejiro Matriarch, perhaps, or the Symboli advisor. That "gentle" man, Minami, might actually be some kind of demon or ogre in disguise, and Brian wouldn't have been surprised.
"You seem pretty fixated on Laurel," Rampage remarked.
"…Is it that obvious?"
"I don't play the part of the 'Tyrant' for kicks. I've got a decent eye for people."
If she could see through Brian so easily, then there was no point in hiding it. Brian decided to ask the question haunting her.
"Senior… where is Laurel's finish line? What is her goal?"
"I could tell you," Rampage said, a small smirk playing on her lips, "but why don't you go find out for yourself? It's more interesting that way."
"I'm not looking for 'interesting.'"
"You want to stop being afraid? Even if I told you now, it'd probably just make the anxiety worse. Forget it—get your answer through your running."
It was the ultimate answer for a Horse Girl. Hearing it made the ice inside Brian's chest thaw, if only by a fraction. It might have been a delusion, but she realized then that the only way to melt the frost was to face Laurel head-on and win.
"…Understood. I'll make it clear at the Derby."
"That's the spirit."
Rampage watched Brian's retreating back out of the corner of her eye as she stayed under the shower.
"Good grief," she sighed. "The roles have completely flipped… what a dangerous soul he is."
Rampage forced her aching, fatigued legs to move as she stepped out of the stall. She had pushed it too far today. All she wanted was to finish her work, go home, and sleep. With that thought, she cracked open a bottle of coffee milk and let the cold liquid slide down her throat.
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