Chapter 5 — Stonebreak
I don’t want to go inside the gate no matter how many times I go in.
It’s cramped, dark, suffocating.
The horse beside me keeps rattling around nervously.
“Oi, quiet down. Your heartbeat’s too damn loud.”
I bark at the youngster next to me.
Today’s race is at Sapporo Racecourse, turf 1200 meters.
For us horses, this place is both a workplace and a battlefield.
“…But, Stone sis… the people in the stands are scary…”
“Shut up. Don’t look at the crowd. Remember the old man leading you around earlier. He was rubbing your legs so carefully, wasn’t he?”
“…Ah.”
I snort sharply, and the youngster finally quiets down.
Yeah. That’s better.
We horses were born to run.
It’s not logic. it’s driven by instinct and just a little bit of “loyalty”.
…Though every now and then, there are horses who run for other reasons too.
“Easy there, Stone.”
The jockey on my back lightly pats my neck.
Ah, geez.
It’s not like I’m not nervous too.
But right now, there’s something else on my mind.
That brat… Saku.
He actually believed our voices and worked up the courage to tell the humans, only to get laughed off.
“…Good girl, Stone. Let’s do this.”
The jockey speaks gently.
Guess he thinks I’ve calmed down now that I’ve refocused myself.
He can’t understand my words.
But he’s got good instincts.
The fanfare rings out.
Apparently the music gets even grander for big races, but honestly? It’s just loud.
Then the music stops and everywhere goes quiet.
This isn’t some graded stakes race or anything, so there’s no massive roar from the crowd.
But—
…
CLANG!!
The gates burst open, and my vision explodes outward.
Hooves thunder. Wind lashes against my ears.
All the blood in my body shoots to boiling point at once.
This is racing.
“Move! That’s my lane!”
“Whoa, Stone! You’re fast!”
Glaring at the backsides of the front runners, I settle into the middle pack.
The race really starts at the fourth corner.
I glance sideways.
Number 8, the one who said her left leg felt wrong, is forcing herself to stretch her stride, face twisted in discomfort.
Poor thing.
Once humans start using the whip, we horses can only run.
But our bodies matter.
The old man’s love back at the ranch.
The hay Saku carried every single day.
The harsh training from the trainer old man.
All of it has become fuel for the muscles moving me right now.
Fourth corner.
Another horse tries drifting outward, and I shove her back with my shoulder.
“Outta the way!”
“Ghk… what’s with you!? Why’re you so fired up!?”
“It’s just some random race! Stop taking it so seriously!”
I’ve got nothing to say to horses with spirit that weak.
The straightaway opens before me.
On the other side of the turf, Saku should be watching.
I suck in a breath hard enough to burst my lungs.
My legs feel heavy.
The ground clings to me like mud.
But the presence of the horses charging from behind drives my pride.
Gold Farm horses?
Who cares.
“…Who the hell do you think I am?”
On my back is a sign for Sakurai Ranch.
That shabby stable, that clumsy old man, and that hopeless grandson who couldn’t even find work—they’re all riding with me!
And don’t you dare underestimate this body that the overly kind trainer old man polished day after day!!
“MOVE OUTTA MY WAYYYYY!!!”
A scream escapes me that isn’t even a proper neigh anymore.
“GO, STONE!”
The jockey pushes me harder and harder.
Yeah!! You’re a damn good jockey!!
With every stride, the scenery flies backward.
The horse leading ahead starts looking like it’s drifting backward in slow motion.
100 meters left.
As if answering my will, a whip filled with pure spirit cracks across my back.
The horse beside me, desperately trying to keep up, cries out in shock.
“No way… where’s that strength even coming from!?”
“Pride! Pure stubborn pride! It’s time for you to remember!”
I’m a horse.
I don’t know anything about bloodlines or prize money or any of that complicated crap.
But there’s one thing I know for sure.
When I go back to that ranch—
I want the old man and the brat to tell me, Welcome home.
I hear the crowd roaring.
But there’s another voice I hear even more clearly.
Not a hallucination.
It’s the brat in the stands, shouting himself hoarse.
The finish line flashes past in slow motion.
I broke through.
…
…
…
Still carrying my momentum, I toss my head and fling sweat through the air.
Breathing hard, I gradually slow my pace.
Ahhh… I’m exhausted.
But I feel incredible.
The jockey pats my neck repeatedly.
“…Well done. You had unbelievable fighting spirit today.”
I snort back at him, trying to say you were a good rider too, though I doubt he understands.
As we walk back toward the weighing room, I spot number 8 trudging along slowly.
“Your leg okay?”
“Yeah. Still feels weird, but… probably okay.”
“That’s good. Make sure they check it properly.”
We chat while walking.
And the two jockeys probably have no idea what we’re saying.
“These two seem pretty friendly.”
“Hm? They didn’t seem close before.”
“Something must’ve happened.”
See? They don’t get it.
Then I spot the brat standing there with a dumbfounded look on his face.
“…See that, brat?”
I snort proudly.
“If you can hear horse language, next time you better translate my victory declaration properly too.”
“That’s asking way too much.”
Of course, nobody around us understands a thing we’re saying.
But I’ve decided.
I’m gonna help make people believe what this brat says.
No idea how far a horse like me can climb.
“I’ll win even more, so if you wanna attend the winner’s ceremony, you better show up.”
“If I came every time, transportation costs alone would bankrupt me.”
Cheap bastard.
I deliberately blast him with a snort of hot breath.
He actually stumbles a little.
Hah. Funny.
“You’ve still got a long way to go.”
My heart was still pounding proudly in my chest.