Chapter 61 – Of Course It’s Terrifying When You Gather Nothing but Strong Horses!

The fanfare played.

The atmosphere at Nakayama Racecourse trembled.

The year-end Grand Prix.

The Grade I Arima Kinen.

The final great event of the year, contested by horses selected through a fan vote.

In other words, popularity, ability, expectations, desires, dreams, and countless betting tickets had all been crammed behind these gates.

And I-Glass Cafe-

“Eek…”

-was trembling like a normal horse.

No, this was terrifying.

Look around.

Every one of them looked strong.

Why was I here?

No, I was here because I’d been chosen.

Someone had written my name on a fan ballot.

That made me incredibly happy.

Whoever you were, thank you.

Next time, I’ll let you watch me eat grass as deliciously as I can.

Although I didn’t know whether I’d have the composure for that now.

I’d finished third in the Satsuki Sho, third in the Derby, and fifth in the Kikuka Sho.

I’d also won a graded race.

I definitely wasn’t weak.

I could be proud of that.

It should have been fine.

But this year’s three-year-old colts included Sakurai Rudolf and Golden Beer.

What did “undefeated Triple Crown winner” even mean?

And then there was that other monster: the Asahi Hai winner who’d finished second in the Satsuki Sho, second in the Derby, and even second in the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe.

That was strange.

Why had two creatures like that been born into the same generation?

“Hey. It’s been a while.”

A low voice sounded nearby.

The voice alone made me flinch.

When I looked, an older chestnut was calling to the dark horse beside him.

Both were Grade I winners.

Was it really all right for Grade I winners to be standing everywhere like this?

“Hmph. Don’t address me so casually.”

“Same as ever, I see.”

“Aren’t you the one who’s grown weaker?”

“Find out today.”

Scary.

The temperature of their conversation was terrifying.

Hadn’t they known each other for years?

Why was their first exchange upon reuniting laced with murderous intent?

If it were me, I’d say, “Hey, it’s been a while. How are you?”

Elsewhere, a chestnut who carried himself like the king of the older horses spoke to one with an infuriatingly composed expression.

“You’re Rudolf? You may be the strongest of your generation, but don’t imagine older horses will let you win easily.”

That was unmistakably Golden Laurel.

Gold Farm’s ace from the generation above us.

He had been a leading Classic contender and had continued winning Grade I races as an older horse-a true monster.

“Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

The horse answering him was Sakurai Rudolf.

Hey.

Hey, hey, hey.

Rudolf.

You’re not supposed to be on that side!

We’re both three-year-olds.

This is your first Arima Kinen too. Make a face that says, Wow, the older horses are incredible.

Why do you look as though you’re thinking, I’ll win anyway?

Show a little nervousness.

It annoyed me.

But I knew how strong he was.

I’d spent all year watching his back.

More precisely, I’d watched his Derby battle with Golden Beer from behind.

What had that been?

I was running with everything I had, yet those two seemed to be fighting on a different screen.

And they were all the spectators saw.

I understood.

I would have watched them too if I hadn’t been running.

But I had been running!

I wanted the humans to remember that occasionally.

We entered the gates.

Metal frames.

A narrowed field of view.

The air ahead.

The breathing of the horse beside me.

The cheers both distant and near.

The inside of an Arima Kinen gate was frightening.

The older horse beside me spoke.

“…Hey.”

“YES!”

My voice cracked.

Please stop.

Don’t talk to me.

I wasn’t used to adults yet.

“You’re awfully frightened.”

“I-I’m not frightened!”

I regretted talking back the moment the words left me.

This was bad.

I’d picked a fight with an older horse.

I was going to die.

But he only snorted.

“Good. Run with that expression. That’s the kind of place a Grand Prix is.”

“Huh?”

Why had he suddenly become a good senior?

Scary.

Being treated kindly was somehow even scarier.

But…

It also made me a little proud.

I was here.

Glass Cafe stood on this stage.

Every horse settled.

The world stopped.

The afterglow of the fanfare faded, the murmur thinned, and for one instant everything leaned forward.

CLANG!

I burst from the gate.

I quickly secured my position.

Inside of Rudolf. Perfect.

Good. Right here.

If I let Rudolf get too far ahead, I’d never catch him.

But if I forced myself forward now, I’d die later.

So here.

This was the place.

“…”

Rudolf stared straight ahead as though unaware of me.

But he definitely knew.

He knew and pretended he didn’t.

That truly annoyed me.

I hated his composed face. I hated that all anyone discussed was him and Beer.

But…

I knew he was strong.

That was precisely why this position was perfect.

We rounded Nakayama’s turns.

The heat from the grandstands pressed in from both sides.

Someone called my name.

“Glass Cafe!”

I heard it.

Clearly.

It made me happy.

That one voice put a little more strength into my legs.

Someone was watching me.

Someone had called my name-not Rudolf’s or Beer’s.

In that case, I couldn’t run an embarrassing race.

Third turn.

The air began shifting.

The instant I sensed that the race had reached its decisive point, Rudolf slipped forward.

…What was that?

Don’t move with a casual, Well, time to go, expression when you’ve been preparing yourself all along!

He was always like this.

He advanced naturally.

He never seemed to be forcing himself, yet suddenly he was one step ahead.

“Wait!”

I followed by reflex.

But the gap opened slightly.

Damn it. He really was fast.

And the older horses around me were fast too!

What was wrong with all of them?

Wasn’t it strange for everyone to shift gears between the third and fourth turns like that?

I chased.

Desperately.

I worked through the horses crowding the inside.

The home stretch.

Ahead, Rudolf attacked the leader.

He was strong after all.

Even here, he didn’t shrink.

He took the pressure from the older horses and the full roar of the Arima head-on, yet still moved forward.

Damn it.

How annoying.

Annoying, but cool.

The instant I thought that, a low voice sounded behind me.

“Move, kid.”

A chill ran through me.

I had no time to look back.

But I understood.

Something enormous was coming.

In the next instant, a golden presence shot past on the outside.

Golden Laurel.

“Whoa!?”

Fast.

That finishing kick was terrifying.

What was that?

He hadn’t come from behind.

He’d warped.

Laurel continued after Rudolf.

For an instant, the force of it nearly swallowed me.

Older horses charged from the outside.

Others held on along the rail.

My own legs had long since ceased to feel easy.

It would have been simple to sink here.

But…

Rudolf is the only three-year-old who can compete with them.

Without Beer, this is all the three-year-olds amount to.

The future verdict flashed through my mind.

Don’t screw with me.

Don’t screw with me.

Don’t screw with me!

“I won’t let you say it!”

I gritted my teeth.

I wouldn’t let anyone say the three-year-olds other than Rudolf and Beer were worthless.

I was here too.

This was the Grand Prix.

I was running because people had voted for me.

Someone was calling my name.

Someone had chosen me.

Then I wouldn’t let them say it.

I wouldn’t.

I wouldn’t!

“OOOOOOOH!”

I lengthened my stride.

It hurt already.

It hurt terribly.

And there was a hill.

Nakayama had a hill.

I knew.

But I went.

Rudolf and Laurel were ahead.

Powerful older horses followed just behind them.

I clung desperately to that group.

I wouldn’t let them leave me.

At the very least, they wouldn’t discard me easily.

I no longer knew my position.

I didn’t know, but I moved forward.

Forward, no matter what.

I couldn’t disappear here.

Would I disappear?

The finish rushed toward me.

With the last of my strength, I stretched my neck.

Forward.

At least one more step.

At least one more horse passed.

Our generation wasn’t only Rudolf and Beer.

I was here too.

Glass Cafe was here!

…

Finish.

It was over.

My shoulders heaved.

My lungs burned.

My legs felt heavy.

The sounds around me were distant.

The result?

I didn’t know.

I didn’t want to know.

But I understood enough to hate it.

Probably fifth.

I’d remained on the board.

I hadn’t challenged for victory, but I hadn’t disappeared.

Damn it.

Damn it.

Ahead, Rudolf and Laurel walked side by side.

The announcer was still shouting.

“The undefeated Triple Crown winner captures the year-end Grand Prix as well! Sakurai Rudolf! A magnificent victory over the older horses!”

First: Sakurai Rudolf.

Second: Golden Laurel.

Ah.

He’d won again.

Even in the Arima Kinen.

Beside Rudolf, Laurel laughed in a low voice.

“Not bad, kid. You didn’t defeat Beer by accident.”

“You were fast too. It was enjoyable.”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

Laurel snorted.

“…I’ll win next time.”

“Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

Ah!

So annoying!

Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting!

What was that conversation?

Why were they creating the atmosphere of a preview for the next showdown between two champions?

I was standing here in fifth with my lungs on fire!

But…

Even so, I stepped forward.

“Rudolf.”

I called his name.

Rudolf looked at me.

“Ah, Glass. Thank you for the race.”

There was that attitude again.

“Guh…”

Frustrating.

So frustrating.

But I had to say it.

He’d won today.

He’d defeated the older horses.

He’d won the Grand Prix.

“Congratulations.”

I forced the words from the back of my throat.

“Representative of our generation.”

For a moment, Rudolf’s expression changed.

His usual composed face seemed to soften slightly.

Then he silently nodded.

“…Yes. Thank you.”

Damn it.

Still irritating.

Why did he have to answer properly at times like this?

Someday.

One day, without fail.

I would make that composed face collapse.

But first…

For now…

I was going to eat delicious grass and sleep through the end of the year.

That part was nonnegotiable.