By the time she finished confirming her entry on March 22, Light Dyna had also benefited from a bit of JRA favoritism during the post draw: she landed stall eighteen, the farthest outside gate in the field.
For Dyna, it was practically the perfect draw.
It kept her far away from Orfevre, and after the break she would not need to spend too much effort fighting for position. She could ease inward, even settle in right behind Orfevre if she wanted. That way, she would not have to look into those eyes of hers, and could instead keep a clear watch on every single one of Orfevre's movements.
If Orfevre, drawn on the inside, still wanted to drop back…
Then Dyna could just hand over last place to her.
The Eastern Japan Earthquake Disaster Relief Race — Spring Stakes was scheduled for March 26. That did not leave Dyna much time to recover, so in the end she decided not to rest at all. She headed straight to Hanshin, planning to use the training facilities there to recover her old race feel.
Just training without actually racing was not enough. Half a day passed before Dyna managed to start finding her rhythm again. On top of that, Takarazuka had been stuck under chilly rain these past few days, leaving the turf slick and greasy underfoot, which made adapting even harder. She might finally get used to running on slightly heavy ground, only for race day to turn out firm.
"Lady Light is working very hard indeed! You've got all the air of the Tyrant in her glory days!" Opera O called from the side, tossing her a bottle of water.
Dyna caught it neatly and sat down beside her. "Your help's been a huge part of it too, Ms. Opera O. I never expected you used to run from off the pace as well."
"Well, that's ancient history now. Though it did cost me dearly in my reckless youth. There was one race where I left it too late, and by the final straight I realized I simply couldn't catch the filly in front. After that, I made sure to stay closer to the front."
Opera O laughed brightly. That period had truly been one of the darker stretches of her career. Five straight losses had nearly destroyed Wada's confidence.
Back then, a miserable, defeated Wada had even said things like, "If we lose one more race as a senior, then we should hand you over to a trainer who's actually capable."
That had infuriated Opera O so much she had nearly punched his guts out.
Still, in the end, the Tyrant of the End of the Century had pulled her trainer back from the edge. She had gone undefeated through the year and captured five G1s, a feat without precedent and, as far as she was concerned, without any true successor. Any racehorse girl dreaming of surpassing her would first have to measure just how much they were worth.
All the lessons from those races, Opera O had continued passing down to the racehorse girls in Wada's stable. It just so happened that they had rarely had a chance to put them to use.
This time, though, Opera O could teach everything to Light Dyna without reservation.
In this chestnut girl, she saw her own shadow from years ago—only calmer, more restrained, with every bit of sharpness she had hidden inside the sheath. In fact, Opera O had the strange feeling Dyna still lacked the resolve to fully draw the blade at all.
"Lady Light, to be honest, I think you're a bit like Wada right now."
For once, Opera O did not throw back her head and laugh dramatically. Memories of the past always tasted that way: sweet, with a trace of bitterness. Very few racehorse girls could laugh cleanly at their old scars. Most still carried their regrets.
"Like Mr. Wada?" Dyna pointed at herself, stunned. "Me? But Mr. Wada is amazing."
Opera O pressed a fist to her lips. "When I retired, Wada was full of vigor. The girls he could recruit into his stable were at least solidly above average. But before long he discovered that he simply wasn't good enough yet, and he wilted like a damp rag. If I hadn't still been around, he might really have given up on being a trainer."
"The truth is, back then his skill and mentality simply weren't at the level of a top trainer. He only reached that point little by little. Because it took him so long to grow into himself, he missed his best years. His record and ability never fully matched what they should have become. But in the end, he stayed. And as long as he stayed, he could slowly rebuild the reputation he had lost."
Opera O spoke without holding anything back, casually recounting the history she and Wada shared while they rested.
Dyna listened so intently that by the time she came back to herself, they had already gone more than ten minutes over the break.
Opera O was still going on and on about the absurd mistakes rookie Wada had made back then—mistakes so ridiculous they were enough to make anyone laugh and cry at once. Even now, when she thought about them, she still felt the urge to smack him dead.
Only as a joke, of course.
In truth, the one trainer she had always wanted most was Wada. Without him, she might never have reached what she had become.
At last Opera O glanced at her watch and paused. "Ah… I seem to have talked on far longer than I meant to. Shall we run one together? One final check before race day. Just the two of us. Six hundred meters on turf."
It was the kind of paired sharpening run racehorse girls used all the time to gauge their finishing speed over the last three furlongs—the most essential expression of a racehorse girl's actual racing ability. Granted, Opera O had long since reached the point where she had simply trained however she pleased and barely needed her trainer's input, but that only made the offer more valuable.
"Eh? Of course! Thank you, Ms. Opera O. I was worried I wouldn't be able to find anyone willing to run with me…"
Dyna accepted immediately. She already knew she would probably end up being ground into the turf, but at least it would force her to draw everything out of herself.
Sharpening drills like this were all about the racehorse girl's final three-furlong kick—almost a direct reflection of the level of her racing. The only small catch was that Opera O was not dressed for it. Without proper sportswear or race shoes, her performance might be a little less stable than it once was.
Even so, it would be more than enough.
"Then watch me. Once I hit the six-hundred-meter marker up ahead, you start. Try to catch and pass me before the line."
Opera O pointed to the post, stretched loosely in a way that looked almost careless, then lowered into a starting posture that seemed to have no structure at all—
And the next instant, a dull explosion rang out in Dyna's ears.
Opera O shot forward like a bullet out of a cannon.
Standing directly behind her, Dyna took the full blast of dirt, grass, and ripped roots straight into the face. In the place Opera O had launched from, a brown footprint remained, the kind that would give the grounds crew a headache.
"Cough—ugh, ptui! What ridiculous power!"
Dyna coughed and spat as she stared in disbelief. Even after retiring, Opera O could still unleash that sort of force? Then what had she been like in the year she went undefeated? How monstrous must she have been then? What kind of pressure had the girls running against her been under?
Off the track, Opera O was so warm and approachable.
On the track, she lived up to the title of Tyrant completely.
"Oh right… I need to follow her. Six hundred meters. Catch her if I can…"
Dyna drew a deep breath and fixed her gaze on Opera O's back. The moment Opera O passed the six-hundred-meter post, Dyna launched after her.
Her own start did not have anything like Opera O's explosive violence.
It was light, soft, almost floating.
Where Opera O seemed to trample the earth itself, Light Dyna looked as though she were skimming across the turf without truly touching it.
Up ahead, Opera O suddenly felt something disturbingly familiar.
From behind came a pressure thick with aggression, as if something meant to pin her in place.
As her body gradually remembered the feeling of racing in earnest, Opera O smiled.
So Light Dyna had unconsciously figured out something like this too. Perhaps she really was a genius who hid everything beneath a calm surface. That binding sensation felt as though it rose directly out of the turf and coiled around Opera O's legs, making every stride cost that much more effort.
But for a veteran who had weathered countless battles, a fledgling like Dyna was still too green.
As they approached the only bend in the drill, Opera O wore a wild grin and glanced back over her shoulder at the chestnut girl chasing her.
For that one instant, Dyna felt as though she had plunged into an icy abyss.
Then heat surged up from inside her chest in answer, racing through all four limbs and devouring the fear that had been born in that moment, turning it into a fiercer battle spirit instead.
Locked on Red:I see you. You're the only one I care about.
(When running from the rear, locks onto one horse girl ahead, making her uneasy and more prone to errors. Once designated as the target, acceleration becomes easier.)
Triumphal Ballet · Heart of a Protagonist:One day I'll be the one standing center stage… until then, face my challenge. Every loss is just another challenge. I'll keep coming until I beat you.
(When afflicted by fear, intimidation, or interference-type skills, the effect is nullified and fighting spirit is ignited instead.)
Under the pressure Opera O exerted, Triumphal Ballet's power did not even wait for Dyna's conscious approval. It rose on its own and fought against the thing Dyna hated most. By pure accident, Dyna at last grasped it fully and made it part of herself.
It's… not working?
Opera O's attitude changed at once.
The way she looked at Dyna was no longer the way one veteran regarded a young chick in her first Classic season. It was the look one gave a hawk finally showing its claws.
Plenty of racehorse girls could withstand the Tyrant's pressure.
But for a girl who had only just stepped into her Classic year to do it? That was rare.
At the same time, Opera O could feel it clearly now—
Light Dyna's will to fight had caught fire.
The flame was still weak, like the fighting spirit the Oyster Mare had once dragged behind Opera O's shadow.
But even that was more than enough to ignite Opera O in return.
"Well then… if that's how it is, let's settle it fair and square!"
At once Dyna felt her body lighten.
Opera O had withdrawn her suppressive pressure.
But the situation was still grim.
Opera O focused on pure finishing speed was a terrifying opponent.
Still, Dyna had to stay steady. First, she needed to close the gap. This brief opening had to be used to the fullest.
Dyna's entire field of view narrowed until all she could see was Opera O's back.
At least she could see it. At least she was getting closer.
Was Opera O adjusting herself to Dyna's pace deliberately? It did not matter.
All that mattered was passing her. Once she did, Opera O would have to respond.
As they prepared to leave the final bend, only three lengths remained between them.
Given the length of the straight, that gap was difficult but far from impossible.
Dyna kept herself on guard for the moment Opera O might unleash her finishing kick. Now—now was the time to step up and seize the race for herself, to make the final rhythm of the run belong entirely to her.
She launched her first attempt to pass—
And it felt like slamming into a wall.
Something pushed back. Her head swam. There was even the sensation of being dragged backward.
So this was what it meant to face the Tyrant head-on.
She still had more left. She tried again—
No. This time the dizziness was even worse, and a pulling force tightened around her neck as if something were dragging her backward by the scruff. This was an absolute gulf of ability, not something she could cross just by thinking I want to win.
Around her ears she seemed to hear the echo of the Tyrant's old cry—
"I am your F…"
What kind of cursed move was that?!
Were all top-tier racehorse girl battles full of this kind of invisible clash?
Dyna discovered that every time she tried to overtake from directly behind Opera O, she was struck by that unseen resistance, as though someone were yanking her backward by the nape and disrupting her breathing.
Opera O, who had only meant to pace Dyna a little, frowned.
Her pressure had been basic, almost casual. At range, Dyna had handled it well. Yet the moment she tried to challenge head-on, she looked worse than an ordinary girl.
A thought crossed Opera O's mind.
The confrontation in Dyna's debut race had left a shackle deep in her instincts.
But then Opera O smiled.
"Come on, Dyna! Charge straight at me! This is exactly what your sharpening should be! Throw your hesitation away! You only need to think about moving forward!"
Seconds passed.
More than half the straight was already gone, and Opera O still had not seen Dyna break through.
A trace of disappointment entered her heart.
Dyna's fighting spirit—the one she could control—still showed signs of bullying weaker foes and shrinking from stronger ones. That would be disastrous in a real race.
Still, discovering the problem now was good timing. There was still time before the race to drill the issue out of her and raise that controllable competitive instinct to a higher level.
That was what Opera O thought.
But—
Just as she was about to unleash the last of her kick and teach Dyna a brutal lesson, something entered the edge of her vision.
A chestnut figure.
Restored to a forward-thrusting, unstoppable momentum.
And about to pass her.
The fire burning in Dyna's body as she committed to that overtake brought back a memory Opera O knew all too well—
"Admire Vega… no—No, that's not right. Adore? No…"
She caught herself.
What Dyna reminded her of was Narita Top Road at Takarazuka Kinen—that desperate, blazing will.
But unlike Top Road back then, Dyna's spirit had not flared first and then forced the body through. Here it was the opposite: the body had already found the path, and only then did the will ignite.
Back then, Opera O had at least felt Top Road coming up from her blind spot.
How had Dyna slipped past from the blind spot now without startling her in advance?
Since when had Dyna learned how to hide her presence?
Caught off guard, Opera O lost half a length.
Her residual stamina was still formidable, but with the shape of the run changing so suddenly at the line, even she could not quite recover in time. It was a defeat eerily similar to several races from the final year of her own career.
Opera O had expected Dyna to beat the retired version of herself eventually.
But not like this.
This kind of victory was almost insulting—to Dyna, and to Opera O too.
A closer was supposed to overtake a tiring rival by surging straight past, not by vanishing out toward the far outside, lurking in the blind spot, and then stabbing through at the last second.
What kind of gloomy, underhanded nightmare of a closer was this?
Then another thought struck her.
Wasn't racing always a game of open strategy, hidden strategy, and mind games?
As for Dyna, the feeling was not simple either.
Wasn't this supposed to be a true racehorse girl duel, a contest of legs and spirit, punches trading cleanly with punches?
How had it turned into a battle of interference skills and secret maneuvering instead?
…And if she trained like this, would her finishing kick really become the kind of closer's finish she wanted?
Dyna gulped, bracing both hands against her knees as she panted, staring at the Opera O standing nearby.
And in her heart—
There rose a feeling she could only describe as the pleasure of conquest.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 126)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter130)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter89)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter157)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 133
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 125
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 84
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 143
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 115
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 99
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player 53
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 75
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 66
Uma Musume: From Beginner 75
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 52
Uma Musume: I Want All 51
I Can Copy Unique Skills 53
A Guide to Aid in the Underwor 26
Summoning an Evil God, but the 27
Supernatural Multiverse 27
My Harem Is Indescribable 26
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