Chapter 139: Why Unwilling? Why Regret?
After the practice race ended, Makoto's feelings were tangled and refused to settle.
He had known from the start that going up against such powerful racers would put immense pressure on Kitasan Black—after all, her Classic Year wasn't even over yet.
But even so, he couldn't help but feel that those veteran racers might have gone a little too far this time.
It wasn't about the results.
Just like last time, Kitasan Black came in last place—that in itself wasn't hard to accept.
Nor was it about any unexpected incidents.
Deep Impact's performance had clearly been deliberate, and by the middle of the race, Makoto had already guessed as much.
That Umamusume probably wanted to test something about Kitasan Black—to assess her in some way—and that was why she'd shown such overwhelming dominance from start to finish.
The problem was… this was supposed to be just a practice race.
For them all to start unleashing their zones—wasn't that being a little too harsh on his poor trainee?
He'd bitten his tongue for a long time, but in the end, Makoto said nothing about how every other Umamusume except Kitasan Black had entered a Zone during the race.
Thinking calmly, it wasn't entirely a bad thing.
After the Satsuki Sho, he'd confirmed several times with Tokai Teio and the others that Duramente had absolutely entered a Zone on the final straight.
In that state, an Umamusume's mental focus becomes razor-sharp; all abilities are pushed beyond their limits, and their aura changes dramatically. That much was certain.
So while coaching Kitasan Black over the past few weeks, Makoto had been studying and pondering that phenomenon carefully.
The problem was—across the entire world, understanding of the Zone state was still very limited.
Even those who had experienced it couldn't clearly explain what had happened to them.
Since it couldn't be triggered by will, the fact that Kitasan Black had accidentally experienced it in this practice race was actually a great stroke of fortune.
On the other hand, every Umamusume who participated was completely exhausted.
A Zone truly let them perform beyond their limits—but it wasn't some kind of superpower. In the end, it burned through physical stamina at an astonishing rate.
Just like after the Satsuki Sho, when Duramente had nearly collapsed at the finish line—unable to even stand, needing Kitasan Black's help just to recover her breath.
Deep Impact and the others were the same.
After jogging a few weak laps to cool down, they dropped one by one to the ground, completely drained, left only with the strength to breathe.
So, suppressing his urge to complain, Makoto joined Daiwa Scarlet and two others—along with a recovered Kitasan Black—to take care of the aftermath.
First, they queued at the infirmary for medical checks to make sure no one was injured.
Then he asked about everyone's weekend schedules, to avoid any conflicts.
After confirming that all of them would just rest afterward, they returned the borrowed starting gates and monitoring equipment to the logistics department.
Finally, after a bit of thought, Makoto decided to take the Umamusumes to a hot spring—not just to help them recover, but also to review that turbulent practice race.
Hot spring therapy had long been part of training routines, and the idea was met with unanimous approval.
. . .
That afternoon, at the hot spring inn that Makoto and Kitasan Black had visited a few times before.
Inside one of the private rooms, Deep Impact lay on a recliner, flipping idly through a copy of Racing Weekly.
When she heard a knock at the door, she called out casually:
"Come in."
"Excuse me, Deep Impact-senpai."
Sliding open the paper door, Kitasan Black stepped inside carrying a tray of fruit salad. Concern laced her voice.
"Senpai, how are you feeling? Still tired?"
Setting the magazine down on the low table beside her chair, Deep Impact stood up, accepted the tray, and replied simply:
"I'm fine. How are the others?"
"...Senpai, can I ask you something?"
Kitasan hesitated, her tone shifting.
Deep Impact didn't answer verbally, but gave a small nod.
"Senpai… it seems like you don't really like being around people, do you?"
Kitasan Black quickly waved her hands in a panic.
"I just felt that way, that's all! If I said something rude, please forgive me, senpai…"
Deep Impact was silent for a moment. She picked up a toothpick and ate a few pieces of fruit from the tray, then looked at Kitasan Black.
"Why do you think that?"
"It's just… a feeling."
Kitasan Black pressed her lips together.
"I remember I've been to your house before, right?"
"With my sister, you mean?" Deep Impact caught on quickly.
"Mm. Kuroshio Current-senpai often talks to me about you."
Kitasan Black nodded. "I've also watched your races. That time I visited, I actually wanted to meet you in person… but I didn't get the chance."
Her voice trailed off, uncertain.
Another stretch of silence followed. Deep Impact jabbed her toothpick into a piece of fruit a few times before abruptly shifting her gaze toward Kitasan Black.
"At the final corner," she said suddenly, "what were you thinking?"
"The final corner… you mean in today's practice race?"
Seeing Deep Impact nod, Kitasan lowered her head, falling silent.
Deep Impact didn't press further. She turned, sat back down in the recliner, and idly flipped through her magazine again.
Time passed.
"...Unwillingness. And… regret, maybe," Kitasan finally murmured, her tone uncertain. Her fists clenched unconsciously.
"Why unwilling? Why regret?" Deep Impact's voice was quiet, detached—as though she were only making casual conversation. She didn't even look up from the pages.
Yet in that instant, Kitasan Black felt the same suffocating pressure from the race come flooding back.
For a moment, she couldn't breathe.
"...I'm not sure," she finally forced out. "But…"
Her fists tightened even more. She gritted her teeth.
"If, in the Japanese Derby, I meet an opponent as strong as you today—and I back down again like I did this time—then victory will definitely—"
"Not if," Deep Impact interrupted flatly, flipping another page of the magazine with a sharp whap. "It's certain."
"During the Japanese Derby, you will face an opponent who feels impossible to defeat."
The weight in her tone made Kitasan Black freeze.
She didn't quite understand what Deep Impact meant.
They had barely interacted before—outside of these recent training sessions—and yet, she was well aware that Deep Impact was one of the most powerful Umamusumes in all of Japan.
If someone that strong was saying so… did that mean the upcoming Derby really would feature such terrifying opponents?
"Japanese Derby. Tokyo Racecourse. Turf, 2400 meters. Left-handed track. G1."
Setting the magazine aside, Deep Impact finally looked up again.
"It traces back to the oldest of them all—the Epsom Derby. The very first of the Classic Triple Crown races. Another name for it is the Tokyo Yūshun—literally, the race that 'selects the most excellent Umamusume.' It's also the most prestigious and most-watched of them all."
Her tone grew heavier.
"Do you know what your opponents are willing to do for that race?"
Kitasan blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question.
"Willing to… do what?" she asked tentatively.
"Willing to risk their lives."
Deep Impact picked up the magazine again and flipped to a page filled with race records. Laying it open in front of Kitasan, she spoke in a low, steady voice.
"Mid-distance races are a brutal test of the balance between stamina and speed. Most of them are run at a slower early pace, saving everything for a fast finishing sprint."
"But the Japanese Derby isn't like that."
"There are too many races where Umamusumes gamble everything for the title of 'Derby Champion.' Over half of them run the first thousand meters in under sixty seconds."
"That's the speed others would reserve for their final stretch."
Closing the magazine, Deep Impact met Kitasan's wide eyes.
"Now do you understand," she asked quietly, "why I ran the way I did in the practice race today?"
<+>
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