Seiun Sky's body moved on instinct, muscle memory kicking in before her brain even processed the decision. Her stride opened up, legs pumping faster without the extra effort. Each step ate more ground.
The recovery skill went through her one last time. This is it! The final stage! The fatigue disappeared like it was never there.
She leaned forward, tipping her weight to build speed. Wind hit her face, cold enough to sting. Her eyes watered.
Three lengths ahead, Mayano Top Gun was falling apart. Seiun Sky could see it - shoulders hunched, stride wobbling. The girl was running on pure stubbornness at this point.
Some pink-uniformed girl tried to draft behind Seiun Sky, matching pace for maybe twenty strides. Seiun Sky accelerated again. Left her in the dust. The frustrated groan as the gap opened.
Another runner with an orange headband, running parallel when Seiun Sky angled toward her line, the girl's eyes went wide, and she immediately bailed. Gave Seiun Sky all the space she wanted without even trying to fight.
Seiun Sky's vision tunneled. Everything outside that cone went dark. Just the three figures ahead.
Mayano Top Gun's breathing sounded wet, ragged. Each exhale hurts just to listen to.
"Seiun-san... wait for me..."
Barely audible over the wind and the crowd, but Seiun Sky heard it.
That exhaustion.... That defeat....
Then she was past. Mayano Top Gun dropped back like she'd hit a wall. Mayano Top Gun's voice faded behind her. No explosion, no dramatic burst, just Seiun Sky's smooth acceleration opening up space with cold efficiency.
"AND SEIUN SKY! SHE'S MADE HER MOVE! MAYANO TOP GUN IS DONE! IT'S NARITA BRIAN FIRST, SAKURA LAUREL SECOND, SEIUN SKY THIRD! THE TOP THREE ARE PULLING AWAY! THIS IS THE REAL RACE NOW!"
Up ahead, Sakura Laurel was hunting down Narita Brian. Two lengths. One and a half. One.
The crowd noise built like a tidal wave. Thousands of voices merged into one continuous roar that made the air vibrate. Seiun Sky felt it in her chest, that bass rumble.
Everyone watching. Everyone was waiting to see who'd break in this Tenno Sho Spring Race.
In the stands, Hayato's hands shook on the railing.
"This is it," Maruzensky whispered. "Now we see what they're really made of."
"THE TOP THREE! THEY'RE CONVERGING! NARITA BRIAN, SAKURA LAUREL, SEIUN SKY—ALL WITHIN STRIKING DISTANCE!"
Hayato couldn't breathe. Three runners charging the final straight at speeds that shouldn't be possible this late in a long race. Mayano Top Gun is still clawing back whatever scraps she can find. Narita Brian, with her legendary kick already burning. And Sakura Laurel, rising from her side like something that refused to lose in this race.
Tōjō's hand hit the armrest. "Narita Brian will win!"
"THIS RACE ISN'T OVER! NOT EVEN CLOSE! FINAL STRAIGHT COMING UP AND ANYTHING—ANYTHING—CAN HAPPEN!"
When Sakura Laurel successfully pulled even with Narita Brian, the air between them shifted.
Narita Brian felt it first. That presence she'd been running from the back of the pack, the weight of someone chasing her shadow with desperate, relentless hunger. She glanced sideways, just enough to catch Sakura Laurel in her peripheral vision.
And froze.
Sakura Laurel didn't look controlled anymore. The training mask was gone, replaced by raw, wild drive. Her mouth was open in a hard breath, eyes burning and locked forward, every muscle pulling her toward the runner ahead. This wasn't calm focus or measured control - it was instinct taking over, pressure and hunger combined into motion, a single-minded drive to close the gap and reach the line first.
Her eyes were burning with determination so fierce it was almost scary. Jaw locked in a line that said I don't care anymore about consequences, and anything except that finish line.
Someone who'd stopped holding back. Someone ready to sacrifice everything.
Why?
The thought just appeared.
Why push this hard? Why destroy yourself just to reach the finish?
Sakura Laurel's hands had steadied, but Narita Brian could see the price she was paying. Her muscles were screaming, sweat pouring, breathing ragged from a body driven past every limit. She was running on borrowed time, burning through reserves she might never recover.
For what? For this race? For... me?
Something twisted in Narita Brian's chest.
She'd been running alone for so long. A lone wolf going through the motions because that's what she did. The fire that used to drive her, that hunger to prove herself, to stand at the top, to feel alive, had faded to barely glowing embers. She'd thought it was dead.
But watching Sakura Laurel's face. That raw determination. That refusal to quit even when everything was screaming at her to stop—
Something stirred.
A memory hit sharp and clear. Herself, a year ago, running with that same desperate intensity. When races felt like the only thing in the world that mattered. When she'd have thrown everything away for one more shot at that perfect moment at the finish line.
When did I lose that? When did I become this hollow thing, running because it's just chasing someone's shadow, and winning because I can, but never feeling anything after that?
Sakura Laurel's eyes met hers for half a heartbeat.
Narita Brian saw everything in that instant. The sleepless nights. The trembling hands. The broken body held together by sheer stubborn will. The dream that kept her going, the desperate wish to stand on that winner's stage just once, beside the person she'd been chasing.
I see....
If only I had a rival like you back then... I probably wouldn't have chased a shadow that never existed alone in this field...
The ember flared, not into a bonfire, not into the blaze of her glory days, but enough to be felt. A familiar heat spread through her body, slow and dangerous, the hunger she thought was long dead stirring back to life.
If you're willing to go that far…
Narita Brian's eyes sharpened, that old predator's gleam returning. Her lips pulled back, not into a smile, but into something closer to bared teeth.
In that case, I can't let you down, right?
Narita Brian's left leg burned as the old injury came back to life. Her reserves were emptying fast, her body screaming for restraint, for conservation, for self-preservation.
Narita Brian just ignored it. If this girl - trembling, broken, and stubborn - was willing to sacrifice her body for just one chance to win this race...
Screw it!
The ember caught fire in her chest.
It wasn't a blaze, only a fragile flame, barely alive, and she fed it with her own body, burning through the last of her reserves to keep it burning.
One more time! Let me feel it again, that fire at that time!
Narita Brian's control broke down into something wild. Her breathing went rough, the pain stayed, but she just stopped listening to it.
Let it hurt! Let it break! If she can push past it, so can I !!
Narita Brian's expression changed, the controlled fierceness giving way to something wilder, a desperate, almost primal intensity burning in her eyes.
Dark energy bled from Narita Brian's body like ink in water. Its powerful aura of a champion in her prime. Something heavier, darker, mixed with desperation and reckless abandon.
--
*As usual, the illustration is commented on.