Chapter 77. Shuka Sho Part 1
For Mejiro Dober, front-running was no longer the unfamiliar, uneasy tactic it had once been at the start of her career. So when she received Shuta An's instruction—run a pace-chaser race in the Shuka Sho—there was no panic, no hesitation.
In truth, the moment she saw Kyoei March's outer gate assignment, she had already reached the same conclusion on her own. The race would naturally evolve into a shape where taking initiative near the front was not just viable, but necessary.
With only a few days remaining, Shuta An deliberately reduced her training load to the bare minimum. A single slow lap in the morning to loosen her body, and nothing more. No intensity, no unnecessary strain. The objective was precise—preserve condition, eliminate fatigue, and remove even the slightest risk of injury. At this stage, restraint carried more value than effort.
Meanwhile, within Team Sadalsuud, the internal rhythm subtly shifted.
Rice Shower's arrival had quietly altered the training dynamic. Kurofune, who had previously trained alone, now had a constant sparring partner. Their sessions on the track grew sharper, more deliberate.
Even without formal debut experience, both of them instinctively raised their intensity during chase drills, pushing each other forward.
Progress came quickly—almost visibly so.
Rice Shower could feel it. Kurofune could as well.
Seated alone in a corner of the cafeteria, staring at her empty plate, Rice Shower murmured softly, "So this is what it means—joining a team."
Despite officially becoming a member of Sadalsuud, she still kept to herself most of the time. To the rest of the Academy, she remained an unremarkable presence.
No one realized that the quiet, black-haired girl they barely noticed was the very person they envied—the one who had stepped into a team others could only dream of joining.
The moment Kurofune dropped into the seat across from her, that quiet atmosphere broke.
"You're fast," she said with a grin. "When I came in, you were already sitting here. By the time I got my food, you were done."
"I've always eaten quickly," Rice Shower replied, then tilted her head slightly. "But you're late today."
It was a fair question. Even with her own detour—training, helping Zenno Rob Roy organize books, then heading to lunch—she had still arrived earlier.
Kurofune didn't hide it.
"Helped a friend who's transferring. Luggage, paperwork—that kind of thing. Her family didn't expect her to come here."
Rice Shower nodded, letting the topic pass. Transfers were nothing unusual. Every year, Central Tracen Academy saw countless arrivals and departures. Those who stayed were, almost without exception, the elite of their respective regions.
Compared to them, her own path still felt—uncertain.
—
Unlike the others, Mejiro Dober had not been at the Academy for the past two days.
She had returned to the Mejiro Family estate alongside Mejiro McQueen and Mejiro Ryan, undergoing final adjustments before the Shuka Sho and Kikuka Sho.
It was tradition—one the Mejiro Family took pride in.
Shuta An did not interfere.
He had seen it before during the Oka Sho and the Japanese Oaks, and this time was no different. If anything, witnessing the scale of their preparations when he personally escorted Dober home only reassured him further.
The family valued the title of Undefeated Triple Tiara even more than he did.
If it were within their power, they would place everything they had behind her.
And that was fine.
Even if their methods were redundant, even excessive, Shuta An had absolute confidence in one thing—Mejiro Dober, as she stood now, would not falter against the field before her.
—
The day before the race, Shuta An arrived in Kyoto with Tokai Teio and Rice Shower, settling into a hotel near Kyoto Racecourse.
The following morning, under a clear autumn sky, he brought them directly to the VIP box overlooking the track.
"The Shuka Sho marks the beginning of the second half's G1 season," he said casually, opening the refrigerator. "After today, it's one major race after another."
He glanced over his shoulder. "What do you want to drink?"
"Carrot juice!"
"Genmaicha!"
Kurofune and Rice Shower answered almost simultaneously.
He handed them their drinks, then took a can of green tea for himself and sat down across from them.
"There are still more than six hours before the race," he added. "If you don't want to stay here the whole time, go walk around."
Unlike Tokai Teio, who would be surrounded the moment she stepped outside, the two of them could still move freely—unnoticed, unburdened.
"I'll go take a look," Kurofune said, already standing.
"I'll go too," Rice Shower followed immediately.
Being alone with Shuta Trainer still made her uneasy. And more than that, she had begun to notice something—no one else in the team ever stayed alone with him for long.
So she chose the safest option.
Follow the flow.
—
After they left, silence returned to the room.
Shuta An stood and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling window.
Kyoto Racecourse lay beneath a wash of golden autumn light. Leaves drifted down in the breeze, only to be swiftly cleared away by staff, leaving the grounds immaculate—untouched by the season's decay.
His gaze lingered on the track.
"To fully realize the value of three accumulated G1 victories—" he murmured quietly, "this Shuka Sho must be won."
Outside, everything spoke of harvest.
And today, that meaning extended far beyond the season.
—
Inside the Uma Musume waiting room, Mejiro Dober had already finished her preparations.
After a light walk to settle her body, she lay down on the sofa, closing her eyes.
There was still time.
Plenty of it.
"I need to maintain my condition," she reminded herself silently.
Here, she didn't need to think about anything else. No interactions, no distractions—just stillness. Yet even in that stillness, a thought surfaced.
After today—Most of the opponents in this race—I'll probably never see them on the Twinkle Series stage again.
The realization came quietly. But once it did—it refused to leave.
At precisely 3:10 PM, the Shuka Sho parade commenced, and not long after, Rice Shower and Kurofune returned to the VIP box at Kyoto Racecourse.
Shuta An felt a quiet sense of relief the moment he saw them—had he gone out with them earlier, he likely would have been dragged across half the city.
The two had left as early as eight in the morning and only just returned now. Judging by the shopping bags they carried, it was obvious they hadn't limited themselves to the racecourse alone; the nearby shopping streets had clearly been explored in full.
The URA Association's recent policy shift—limiting the duration of overseas expeditions—had indirectly increased the importance of domestic incentives.
With the monthly subsidies granted to Uma Musume at Central Tracen Academy, even those who had yet to debut, like Kurofune and Rice Shower, were far from short on funds. Seeing this, Shuta An made no comment. It was harmless, and perhaps even necessary, for them to experience this kind of normalcy.
"Perfect timing—you're back," he said, already reaching for a bottle of water. "I'll head down now. Kurofune, stay here with Rice Shower. I'll come get you both after Dober wins."
He spoke it as if it were a foregone conclusion. Before either of them could respond, he had already left the room.
Rice Shower blinked, still processing his words. "Trainer… is always this confident?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. "The parade hasn't even begun, and he's already decided the outcome—"
Kurofune leaned back slightly, unfazed.
"That's just how he is," she replied. "Inside the team, he always assumes we'll win. Even before a race begins, he's already planning what comes next after victory."
She paused, then added, "And so far—he hasn't been wrong."
For Kurofune, this was simply the norm. For Rice Shower, however, it was overwhelming.
"That kind of trust—" Rice Shower lowered her gaze, her fingers tightening slightly. "Can I really live up to it?"
She had joined Team Sadalsuud less than a month ago, and everything still felt distant—almost unreal. Silence Suzuka, Oguri Cap—even Berno Light. The team's most accomplished members still existed in her mind more as legends than as teammates.
Mejiro Dober, whom she saw most often, carried an air of cold distance that made approaching her difficult. Tokai Teio was warm, but overwhelming in her own way like a social terrorist. In the end, it was Kurofune—straightforward and grounded—who had become the person Rice Shower felt most at ease with.
Even so, there were still things she couldn't quite grasp. The team's rhythm. Its confidence. The quiet certainty that seemed to bind everyone together.
Kurofune glanced at her, understanding more than she said aloud. No explanation would suffice here—only experience.
Watch Dober run, she thought. You'll understand.
—
By the time Shuta An reached trackside, Mejiro Dober was already standing on the display platform, the number "10" clearly visible against her racing attire.
"The overwhelming favorite—Number 10, Mejiro Dober!" the commentator's voice rang out across the venue. "The undefeated Double Tiara champion now stands on the brink of history, aiming to claim the Triple Tiara!"
The analysis that followed carried both admiration and inevitability. Her dominance in prior races had left little room for doubt. Whether the pace turned fast or slow, whether it became a battle of endurance or a clash of finishing speed—Mejiro Dober had already proven she could excel in all conditions.
"If she wins today," another voice added, "she will become the first undefeated Triple Tiara winner in history—a feat rivaling that of Symboli Rudolf. And once again, it will be Shuta An who stands behind such a legacy."
Yet beneath the rising excitement of the crowd, Mejiro Dober remained unchanged.
She stepped down from the platform without a word, her expression composed, almost distant, as she made her way toward the turf.
Kyoto Racecourse greeted her with its familiar autumn brilliance. Golden leaves drifted across the grounds, swept aside as quickly as they fell, leaving the track pristine. Somewhere beyond the stands, the Yodo Slope waited—a quiet but decisive obstacle that had undone countless runners before her.
She had already been instructed: conserve energy there. No unnecessary risks. No reckless displays.
A victory, no matter how narrow, was still a victory.
That was enough.
At the warm-up area, she moved through her routine in silence. No one approached her, her presence alone enough to keep others at a distance.
Behind her, Kyoei March watched.
Twice defeated. Twice forced to witness the gap between them.
For a fleeting moment, doubt surfaced—whether choosing to run all three Triple Tiara races had been the right decision.
"It doesn't matter," she muttered to herself, shaking it off. "This is probably the last time. I'll run my race."
Even in acceptance, there was resolve.
One by one, the call came for the runners to enter the gates.
Mejiro Dober slowed her movements, adjusting her breathing, letting everything settle into stillness.
She knew they were watching—her Trainer, her family.
The weight of expectation no longer pressed down on her. It had already become part of her.
Her gaze steadied.
"Ramonu-nee—I'll surpass you today."
And with that quiet declaration, she stepped forward.