[The Winner's Stage "stage device" setup is borrowed from 01's Uma Musume—anyway, stage devices are for plot convenience; please don't overthink it. They'll only appear on Winner's Stage.]
—
She came to and was already standing at center stage. A clean white beam slanted down from overhead, lighting Stardust Mirage and revealing the snow-white "T" at her feet.
This is… the very center of the stage?
She knew the mark—it identifies center—but why was she standing here?
Looking down, she found herself in a red-white-black performance outfit she'd never seen. On her right shoulder was a dragon-head pauldron that bit down to pin a pale-azure mantle to her back.
What on earth happened?
A chill licked her legs—first time she'd worn a short skirt. She looked around—the stage held no one but her. A second white beam crossed the first, completely bathing her in glare.
Ah, right.
It's… Winner's Stage time.
As memory returned, Hu Shan Feihong's words replayed:
"Winner's Stage! But this was a training race! Not an official race!"
She had stared, refusing to believe the "terrible fact" just stated. Win this and you go up—solo, at that?! Why did no one tell her!!!
"Training race is training race," Hu Shan Feihong grinned like a weasel with a chicken, sly and smug. "But Winner's Stage is training too. Any problem? As far as I know, you've never been up there since debut, right? Then today is your first."
"Ah—my leg—must've over-run just now. Hurts—maybe a strain—Trainer, let's go to the hospital; we can do Winner's Stage next time!"
She squatted and clutched her leg with a howl. Hu Shan Feihong didn't buy a bit of it, hands on hips, enjoying the show.
"What are you doing?! Some trainer you are—not even worried about your horsegirl's body!"
"Are you joking, 'monster constitution' Stardust Mirage?" She rolled her eyes. As the one in charge, she knew better than anyone how freakish Mirage's body was. Forget injuries—she'd never even seen delayed onset soreness last four hours. And the med team and she had just checked every limb.
"So, keep acting and you won't have prep time. Then you can stand there like a fool for five minutes. Thought it through?"
"What?!" Mirage shot back up like sprung steel, panic all over. "Do I have to? I don't have a winner's outfit, and I haven't prepared any singing!"
"This—solves it." She pulled a statue from her coat and handed it over: the most famous icon in the world—the Three Goddesses.
"What's this?" Mirage took it, turning it over blankly. "Ascension material?"
"What ascension?" Hu Shan Feihong curled her lip. "It's a stage device. With it, your winner's outfit, set pieces, even song choice/arrangement—all can be realized by holding it and concentrating."
"Convenient, right? You can't build a stage in the few minutes after a race; this is the Three Goddesses' power made manifest."
"…" Mirage ground her teeth at the statue, face even more contorted than at the finish. If she wanted to keep running as a horsegirl, there was no reason to run from a Winner's Stage. Dodging would stain her own chance to shine and mock the others' efforts… But that was the logic—and she couldn't sing or dance!!!
She screamed inside; no one answered. "Use it to design your stage and outfit. Then we'll commission the real thing to match."
Hu Shan Feihong waved and left: "I have to check Bourbon. Save yourself, champ~"
"…"
Mirage watched her trainer go, mixed feelings in her chest. Even if she wriggled out this time, she couldn't dodge forever. Better to simulate now than make a fool of herself later. Maybe that's why Hu Shan forced it…? Then she remembered the trainer's "watching a comedy" face and wasn't so sure.
Not the time. More important: what outfit, what song… "Yume wo Kakeru!"? No! Teio would roast her—she's good at that one. "Girls' Legend U"? God-tier Idol Cup track, but not solo-able—"Tracen Ondo"? What am I thinking?! Am I Oguri Cap?
One point was clear: even with stage-device help, catching up to the singing-and-dancing types was unlikely. Those tracks had been covered countless times. Choose one, open her mouth, and they'd compare her to every past live: others 99 points, her barely 60… humiliating!
Same song isn't scary—sing it worse and it's your embarrassment.
…Right—I can choose an original!
A spark cracked through her head. Of course—pick a song that doesn't exist in this world, and no one can compare! If they've never heard the original, as long as she isn't atrocious, who can score her?
Settled…
Thunk.
A third white beam hit. It was like a signal, waking her from the reverie.
…The winner's performance had begun!
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