One fan suddenly clapped a hand over his mouth. Tears welled in his eyes. No matter how wide he opened his mouth, no sound would come out.
Offside Trap's final charge had naturally stirred every Japanese racing fan nearby, filling them with exhilaration. But what moved the man most was not merely the thrill of victory. For the first time, in this race that had been won without any real danger, he saw hope.
This had not been a win born of luck, nor of some fluke circumstance. Offside Trap's overwhelming strength had allowed her to control the rhythm of the race from start to finish, and then, in accordance with how the race unfolded, carve out the exact winning path for herself.
That was the sight he had always longed to see.
Only a victory like this could truly prove that Japanese horse girls had the right to stand atop the world.
The opponents Offside Trap had defeated were all powerful ones. With a field like this, the man could already predict that her post-race rating would only be sky-high.
At last, a strangled sound forced its way out of his throat.
He was far from the only one in the stands reacting like that. There were even fans who had brought photographs of Sirius Symbol with them; the moment they saw Offside Trap cross the line first, they leapt into the air in joy.
Those unfinished ambitions, those dreams that had never been realized, had finally—finally—been fulfilled.
On Europe's middle-distance turf, a Japanese horse girl had achieved the first ever triumph.
Shinji Terizumi noticed the fans' excitement as well.
For Offside Trap, this victory was merely one more step in her continuing proof that she would one day reach the summit of the Flash Series. It was also her vow made real—the vow that she did not want to lose another race.
But for these fans, this was what they had been waiting for all along.
Just like that Tenno Sho (Autumn) triumph of Offside Trap's, perhaps—just perhaps—in the future Japanese fans would come to hope for even more victories in Europe's middle-distance G1 races. But as things stood now, Offside Trap's win was enough to keep them happy for a very, very long time.
That was the power of being the first.
Good Dream panted hard, her breathing rough and ragged, every exhale scraping her throat raw.
Still, she forced herself upright, lifting her head high.
As last year's Horse Girl of the Year, she had received that honor amidst no small amount of doubt. She had lost to Aristocratic Line in the Prix Niel, then been completely outclassed in the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe. Having failed to prove herself on the world's biggest stage, it was only natural that cruel speculation had followed.
Had winning those two Derbies already burned her out?
That sort of talk had appeared again and again, leaving Good Dream ever more desperate to prove that the honors she had received had been deserved.
But over time, she had slowly come to understand something:
There were many things in life that could not be done just because you wanted them badly enough.
And precisely because of that, she had come to understand something else as well: what had already been done, what had already been won, remained won. To keep trying to prove things that had already happened in the past was, in itself, a contradiction.
Letting out a long breath, Good Dream walked over to Offside Trap's side.
She could see the joy dancing in the other girl's eyes, and in them, too, she seemed to catch a reflection of her own unwillingness to accept defeat.
Biting her lip, Good Dream said softly, "Congratulations."
Offside Trap blinked. She could not understand the words, but she could read Good Dream's expression well enough.
Good Dream, who had finished only fourth, had not actually ended up that far from the placing she had expected before the race.
And yet, because she had been unable to take part in that final clash at the very front, the race had also unfolded far from the way she had hoped it would.
Offering her a quiet, comforting pat on the shoulder, Offside Trap paused, then spoke anyway.
"Do your best."
Good Dream did not understand the words, but that hardly mattered. There were only so many things a winner could say to someone who had lost.
Forcing a smile, she stepped back—just in time to see Royal Anthem and Dolce approach as well.
To Royal Anthem, Offside Trap was a profoundly frustrating existence. She could not explain herself to her, nor gesture her meaning properly. So when Royal Anthem stopped in front of Offside Trap, she brooded for a long moment, and in the end only managed to produce an expression that plainly said unhappy.
That expression made Offside Trap crack up.
This horse girl, who could be so irritating at times, really did have a surprisingly adorable side to her.
Still chuckling, Offside Trap turned her attention to Dolce.
The showdown the fans had anticipated before the race had proven worthy of the hype. Dolce, as expected of a horse girl so highly regarded by the public, had launched such a terrifying final pursuit that Offside Trap herself had broken into a cold sweat.
Forced into the disadvantageous inside lane, boxed in between Royal Anthem and Offside Trap, she had still managed to unleash a finishing burst like that.
Offside Trap pressed her lips together and extended her hand first.
If she herself had not reacted quickly enough at the end, had not moved early enough to apply positional pressure, then the result might truly have gone either way.
And because she understood that better than anyone, Offside Trap felt even more respect for Dolce.
It was a pity they still had no direct way to communicate.
With that thought in mind, Offside Trap slowly let go of the handshake. Dolce, meanwhile, tilted her head, studying her.
This was the horse girl who had already made her wary before the Japan Cup. As it turned out, her instincts had been absolutely right. Offside Trap had now grown into a genuine top-tier Flash Series competitor.
Then, doing the math in her head, Dolce suddenly found it a little funny. Strictly speaking, this one was the senior competitor in this race.
That thought tickled her just enough that she gave a quiet laugh.
She was unwilling to accept defeat, yes. But she was not finished.
She still had her next race ahead of her. The moment she crossed the line today, she had already begun preparing for the next battle.
And next time, she would not allow herself even the slightest mistake.
Then she raised one finger and pointed past Offside Trap, toward the stands.
Offside Trap understood immediately and turned around.
Behind her, Royal Anthem was already being lured away by something Dolce had said, while Good Dream stood there for a moment longer, gazing at Offside Trap's back, before finally turning and leaving.
Shinji had by now moved down to the front of the stands.
The other trainers had not followed him. They had all gone to meet their own horse girls.
From the field, the victorious girl searched the front row of the stands with her eyes, looking for one particular figure.
The instant her gaze caught Shinji, her eyes lit up all at once.
Trainer, I won. I won again!
He could read the words from the shape of her lips.
Shinji nodded in affirmation.
At once, her bright eyes crinkled into a delighted smile—and it was precisely that breathtaking expression that sent another wave of cheers surging through the crowd.
Shinji stood in the middle of that ocean of applause.
At that moment, Epsom Racecourse had become a stage belonging to one horse girl alone.
And that horse girl's allegiance—whether in the direction of her gaze, or in the direction of her heart—
A smile curved Shinji's lips.
He raised his hand and answered Offside Trap with the same gesture.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
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Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
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Uma Musume: From Beginner 145
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 85
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Checking In in Demon Slayer 85
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 100
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What Do You Mean by Using a Lab Mod to Be the Hero? 75
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Honkai's Otherworld? Wait—Who Are You People?! 80
Emiya Shirou, Determined to Slay Every Curse and Evil Spirit 57
The Uma Musume Who Became 55
I'm Definitely Not the King of 60
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I, the Elden Sword Saint 27
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I, Sakazuki, Won't Go Down Tha 20
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