Chapter 88. The Day the Triple Crown Fantasy Shattered Part 3
Although Meisho Center resisted with determination, that resistance amounted to little more than a fleeting diversion for Shuta An. The moment Mihono Bourbon finally "captured" the fading Kyoei Arrow, Shuta An and Rice Shower swept past Meisho Center in the same breath.
As he passed, Shuta An even turned his head slightly, offering a faint smile.
Kamizono Katsuhito felt a surge of irritation rise in his chest, nearly enough to make him lash out, but he suppressed it forcefully, driving Meisho Center onward instead.
"It was inevitable that Shuta An would pass me—but I won't let anyone else through!"
The resolve lasted only a heartbeat.
The next instant, Yukio Okabe surged forward aboard Matikanetannhauser, sweeping past with decisive force.
"Damn it."
Kamizono could only swallow his frustration—he didn't to foul this one either—reduced to silent resentment as he continued to push forward.
Ahead, after overtaking Kyoei Arrow, Kojima Sadahiro finally released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"Now he should settle down—from here, just follow the plan."
It wasn't blind optimism. Taking advantage of the curve, he cast a quick glance behind. The distance remained—Shuta An and Rice Shower were still some lengths away. The final straight at Kyoto Racecourse stretched 400 meters, and recalling the Japanese Derby, Kojima convinced himself that Mihono Bourbon could endure whatever came.
"In just a few months—there's no way Rice Shower could have closed that gap."
Yet even as he reassured himself, his hands moved without pause, urging Mihono Bourbon onward, squeezing out every ounce of speed.
"Around seven lengths—dangerous earlier, but this should hold."
From trackside, Toyama Tameo watched intently, his gaze fixed.
"If we hold through these final 400 meters—the result will be perfect."
Then—
Rice Shower entered the final straight.
In that instant, Shuta An moved.
His left hand flicked, the whip tracing a sharp arc through the air before snapping back into his palm. The grip shifted—backhand to forehand—fluid, practiced.
Then three consecutive strikes fell in rapid succession, clean and decisive, followed by a surge in pushing force. His body rose and fell over the saddle like a piston, every ounce of strength driving into Rice Shower, as though he could transfer his own endurance into his stride.
After the third strike, Rice Shower drifted inward, closing toward the rail.
And then—
His speed changed.
Not gradually, but explosively.
It was as if a limit had been broken.
Matikanetannhauser was left behind in an instant. The already faltering Kyoei Arrow offered no resistance, swallowed effortlessly by the accelerating shadow behind him.
Within seconds, Rice Shower had surged into second place.
But neither horse nor rider had any intention of stopping there.
"What I want isn't another second place—I WANT VICTORY."
Shuta An's expression hardened, every restraint cast aside. Techniques, instincts, reserves—everything was unleashed without hesitation. Every ounce of focus condensed into a single command.
"Catch up."
In his mind, the figure ahead shifted—no longer Mihono Bourbon, but an overwhelming presence, a wall that had to be broken.
"Catch up. Overtake. Make them understand."
His thoughts burned with intensity.
"Let them realize what it means to ignore Rice Shower on a long-distance stage. Let them regret it. Mihono Bourbon may stand at odds of 1.4—but why was yours pushed to 9.8? Who exactly are they looking down on?!"
The frustration erupted, fueling his resolve.
And then—
The signature technique.
The windmill whip combined with relentless push-riding returned in full force.
A fine would follow—inevitable. But what was ten thousand yen compared to the Kikuka Sho's first prize of 150 million? His share alone would eclipse that penalty many times over.
There was no hesitation.
Under that overwhelming drive, the gap began to collapse.
Three lengths.
Two.
With 200 meters remaining, only two lengths separated Rice Shower from Mihono Bourbon.
Behind him, Kojima Sadahiro heard it—the rhythm of hooves, growing louder, closer, inescapable. His face tightened, dread creeping into his chest. He didn't need to imagine the consequences. If Mihono Bourbon lost here, the weight of expectation, of criticism, of failure would descend upon him without mercy.
"If only—if only I could run for him—"
The thought flickered uselessly.
And then—
"NO!!!!!!!"
A cry tore through the stands, raw and uncontrollable.
Kojima didn't need to look.
He knew.
Still, instinct forced his eyes to shift, catching the number beneath the saddle beside him.
"7…"
"Of course."
His eyes shut tightly, as if denial could preserve the illusion. His hands continued to drive forward, desperately clinging to a result that was already slipping away.
But reality could not be stopped.
"RICE SHOWER—RICE SHOWER OVERTAKES MIHONO BOURBON! FIFTY METERS TO THE FINISH! MIHONO BOURBON'S TRIPLE CROWN—SHATTERED!"
The commentator's voice rang out, forced to abandon expectation for truth.
In the stands, Rice Shower's owner leapt to his feet, seizing Iizuka Yoshitsugu in an unrestrained embrace.
"We did it! No—Shuta-kun did it! Rice Shower did it!"
Emotion overwhelmed everything—fear, doubt, pressure—erased in an instant.
"He did it…just as Shuta-kun said!"
Elsewhere, Toyama Tameo closed his eyes, unable to watch the final moments. Exhaustion—physical, mental—settled heavily upon him.
"My masterpiece—was it never enough?"
He sagged, barely supported before he could collapse.
—
On the track, none of it mattered.
Shuta An heard nothing beyond the fading rhythm behind him.
Victory was certain.
He straightened, drawing himself upright with core strength, legs tightening against Rice Shower's flanks. Then, turning toward the stands, his voice rang out, unrestrained—
"I, SHUTA AN—KEEP MY WORD!"
The declaration cut through the silence.
With a sharp motion, he flung his whip into the infield.
And then—
Rice Shower crossed the finish line.
Four lengths clear.
"SEVEN LENGTHS AT THE SATSUKI SHO. ONE AND A HALF AT THE DERBY. ALL THAT FRUSTRATION—ANSWERED HERE, AT THE KIKUKA SHO!" The commentator grasped for words, improvising in the face of the unexpected.
"SHUTA AN'S DECLARATION AFTER THE DERBY—HAS BEEN FULFILLED!"
Behind him, Kojima Sadahiro guided Mihono Bourbon to slow, his spirit already broken. He turned away, desperate to escape the weight of the moment, to avoid the eyes of those who had believed in him.
But Shuta An did not allow it.
He turned, voice sharp as a blade.
"Are you an idiot today?!"
The shout echoed across the track.
Everyone understood the reason, even the audiences understood why.
For a brief moment, veteran jockeys felt a distant echo—of another time, another fall, another rebuke etched into history.
Kojima could not respond. Head lowered, he urged Mihono Bourbon away, retreating from the stage as if fleeing judgment itself.
Only after watching him disappear did Shuta An ease Rice Shower into a calm walk toward the stands.
Silence greeted them.
More than a minute had passed, yet the crowd remained stunned—unable, or unwilling, to accept what had just unfolded.
Shuta An did not react. He simply raised his arms.
"Clap."
"Clap."
"Clap."
Three deliberate strikes of applause—for Rice Shower, for himself, for the victory that had been carved against expectation.
Then, without another word, he lowered his hands, lifted his chin, and guided Rice Shower toward the underground passage, leaving behind a silence that had yet to find its voice.
The underground passage of Kyoto Racecourse erupted with unrestrained emotion the moment Shuta An and Rice Shower stepped inside.
Groom Kawashima could no longer contain himself—he rushed forward, barely waiting for the dismount to finish before wrapping one arm around the young man while gripping Rice Shower's reins with the other.
"Too strong! Too amazing! Too wonderful! Shuta-kun is simply the Peak of Jockeys!" His voice trembled, words tumbling over one another, unable to keep pace with his excitement.
Shuta An, however, merely waved his hand after tucking the tack under his arm, his expression composed.
"You flatter me. I'm still far from the peak."
His tone was steady, almost detached. In his mind, the benchmark had already shifted far beyond this race—memories of elite European jockeys during Sea the Stars career campaign lingered vividly, their precision and efficiency still setting the standard he pursued.
More importantly, the surge of adrenaline from dismantling Mihono Bourbon's Triple Crown bid had already faded. What remained was not triumph, but irritation—his sharp rebuke toward Kojima Sadahiro still echoing louder in his mind than the victory itself.
Moments later, Trainer Iizuka Yoshitsugu and the Horse Owner arrived, both visibly unable to contain their excitement. Their composure as seasoned adults had completely collapsed in the face of this victory.
"I really don't know how to thank Shuta-kun enough," the Horse Owner bowed deeply, voice trembling. "You've fulfilled my dream of becoming a G1 Horse Owner."
"There's no need," Shuta An replied plainly, his tone devoid of warmth. "I chose Rice Shower because he had the best chance to snipe Mihono Bourbon. Nothing more. I only take what I've earned."
The bluntness of his words cut cleanly through the lingering celebration. His gaze remained steady, already looking ahead.
"And in the future, if he clashes with Tokai Teio, I will prioritize Teio."
The Horse Owner reacted immediately, almost reflexively.
"Then we'll prioritize your arrangements for Rice Shower!"
"But conflicts will still happen," Shuta An pressed, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"They will," Iizuka Yoshitsugu admitted after a brief pause. "The next race is likely the Arima Kinen. In that case—we'll need another jockey."
"I have no issue with that." Shuta An shrugged lightly, before his tone sharpened with clarity. "But if you want Rice to win consistently, then commit properly. He's a pure long-distance type. Three thousand meters or more—that's where he belongs."
The statement caused visible hesitation. The Horse Owner's expression faltered, caught between ambition and practicality.
"But that would hurt his value as a stallion," he admitted. "Long-distance specialists aren't popular in Japan—"
"Don't worry about that."
The interruption came with quiet authority. All three turned as Yoshida Zenya approached slowly, supported by Yoshida Katsumi.
"Congratulations, Shuta-kun," Yoshida Zenya said, his voice calm despite the visible strain in his body. "Breaking an undefeated Triple Crown—that's no small feat."
"There was no need for you to come in person," Shuta An replied, his tone respectful but firm. "You should be resting."
Yoshida Zenya simply smiled, then shifted the conversation without delay. "I heard your discussion."
Iizuka Yoshitsugu stepped forward. "What is your meaning, Mr. Yoshida?"
Yoshida Zenya's gaze settled on Rice Shower for a moment before he spoke.
"If he defeats Mejiro McQueen in the Spring Tenno Sho, then Shadai Stallion Station will purchase his stallion rights."
The air froze for a brief instant.
It was not merely an offer—it was a declaration of recognition.
Behind him, Yoshida Katsumi gave a subtle nod, his expression unreadable. The intent beneath the proposal was clear to him alone: this was not just about Rice Shower—it was about to safely securing Shuta An for years.
When the world shifted back to reality, Shuta An opened his eyes, the afterimage of victory still lingering faintly. The system interface reflected his latest gain:
"Hero's Resolve: Reduces stamina consumption in the latter half of long-distance races."
A faint smile curved his lips. "A hero, huh—I expected something more like an assassin."
He stretched slightly, the weight of the past race already set aside.
Shuta An observed the Sadalsuud team's Uma Musume morning exercises from the sidelines before heading to the office to clock in.
"I'm the earliest one to work again," he muttered, sitting at his desk and opening his computer, planning to check the news first—
"Dolemi, ninth in the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, will run in the Breeders Cup Turf. Trainer says previous poor performance was due to unsuitable ground and praises El Condor Pasa's performance as not inferior to top European and American Uma Musume."
"Our goal is to defend every race! Hong Kong Uma Musume Helene's Pride fears no challenge from foreign powerhouses!"
"The first Breeders Cup Series in Japan will be held next week. Local URA Association united, can it revitalize the stagnant dirt track scene? Experts say it will amount to nothing without the participation of the Central URA Association!"
"El Condor Pasa, who narrowly lost to Montjeu in the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, announced her retirement from the Twinkle Series this morning."
Seeing the last one, Shuta An paused and murmured, "How come I remember Tojo-san saying El Condor Pasa was going to participate in the Japan Cup?"
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