Kitahara admitted to himself that his inner anxieties had been seen through. Ever since Akikawa Yayoi arranged for him to co-commentate this race alongside her, he had grown increasingly worried about his ability to perform the task effectively.
This wasn't his first time commentating; during his last trip to Europe, he had made a guest appearance in the announcer's booth.
However, while the audience back then wasn't small, it was nowhere near the terrifying level of fanaticism present today. Ultimately, he had underestimated the sheer influence of bringing together Horse Girls from so many different generations in one place.
But this was, after all, a personal request from the Chairwoman.
He had witnessed firsthand everything this Chairwoman had sacrificed for the sake of the Horse Girls' future. He identified deeply with her mission and respected her from the bottom of his heart. Since it was her request, he felt it was a responsibility he simply could not refuse.
"Yes, I've organized the basic commentary logic and the preparatory drafts. I've memorized them many times."
In response to his colleague's concern, Kitahara managed a small smile and spoke of his preparations over the last few days. "I think it should be fine."
"Besides, the Chairwoman has granted broadcasting rights to various TV stations, radio, and online platforms. There will be professional announcers and experienced guests on those ends."
"The Chairwoman and I are connected to the live feed. If any mistakes occur, or if we realize there's an issue with the commentary, we can switch the audio feed directly to the professional broadcast."
Akikawa Yayoi's arrangements for this race were far from spur-of-the-moment; they were meticulously planned. Regarding the commentary, just as Kitahara said, Yayoi had not only prepared the helicopter and equipment but had also negotiated and authorized major media outlets. This was done specifically to account for the possibility of the two "amateur" commentators in the helicopter slipping up.
Hearing this, Yuzuhara smiled in relief. Before he could say anything else, Akikawa Yayoi suddenly snapped her fan open, holding it vertically between the two men.
"Alright! We can talk about those things later!"
With a flourish of her fan, she pointed toward the helicopter like a commander ordering a charge. "No more dallying, Kitahara-san!"
"We need to finish the track commentary rehearsal quickly so we can leave the stage to the competitors."
"Keep in mind that while this event isn't 'official,' the number of participants is massive. Just the introduction in the paddock will take a significant amount of time, let alone their warm-ups."
"So, hurry, hurry! Let's get on the helicopter!"
At this moment, the petite Chairwoman acted like a child, her tone and gestures full of youthful energy.
Seeing this, Kitahara and Yusuhara exchanged a glance and shared a wry smile.
With this many spectators, such complete facilities, and a protocol nearly identical to a formal race... what exactly about this isn't 'official,' Madam Chairwoman?
With a sense of helpless resignation, Kitahara said his goodbyes and followed the eager Akikawa Yayoi onto the helicopter.
True to the unique nature of the race arrangements, the pilot of the helicopter was also an interesting acquaintance of Kitahara's: Hayakawa Tazuna, Akikawa Yayoi's secretary.
Kitahara hadn't expected this capable woman—who assisted the Chairwoman in coordinating the academy's affairs and excelled at everything from reception to logistics—to also know how to fly a helicopter.
He had asked her about it out of curiosity before. The answer he received was that the Secretary had once encountered an emergency transport situation.
It happened during a summer training camp at a seaside location near Tokyo. A Horse Girl training there had an accident and needed to be rushed to the hospital. Though the ambulance arrived in time, Hayakawa Tazuna felt it was still too slow. After that incident, she decided to get her pilot's license. In her mind, if she could fly a helicopter, she might be able to get an injured Horse Girl to the hospital even faster should a similar situation arise.
Hearing this story confirmed Kitahara's long-held suspicion: Hayakawa Tazuna was, in fact, the legendary Horse Girl from history who went 10-for-10 in her career—Tokino Minoru.
The reason for her retirement was likely due to injury. Usually gentle, steady, and reliable, she only lost her composure when a Horse Girl was hurt. Thinking of it that way, it wasn't surprising that she would proactively learn to fly out of concern for her juniors' safety.
Kitahara had harbored this theory for a long time; combined with certain information—or "scripts"—he had received from Kurokawa Masato, he was now almost certain of the truth. However, since she hadn't mentioned it herself, and because the Black River family likely played a role in why certain histories weren't public, there was no need to speak the truth aloud even if he had guessed it.
Tazuna's piloting skills were excellent. Once the helicopter took off, Kitahara felt quite stable, with no significant turbulence. After climbing to an altitude of about 300 meters, the helicopter leveled off. Looking down, he had a crystal-clear view of the track, the Horse Girls, and the spectators. With the help of binoculars and the ground camera feeds, there would be no visual obstacles to their commentary.
Below, the crowds and Horse Girls were looking up. The noise of the rotors and tail fin was quite loud during takeoff and circling, drawing a lot of attention. However, the audience's focus soon shifted back to the Horse Girls near the starting line. Those being watched, however, kept their heads held high, gazing straight ahead.
"A highway, open-air spectator stands, a trainer and the Chairwoman personally commentating, and then... this inexplicable helicopter..."
Mr. C.B. stood on her tiptoes, tapping the ground and feeling the texture—so different from the racetracks in her memory. She watched the helicopter circle and slowly fly into the distance, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Truly... an incredibly interesting race."
"Well, I only came to play around because of your persistent requests, Rudolf."
"But looking at it now, since this race is so interesting, I think I'll get serious."
"By the way, if you happen to lose to me, don't go back to the dorm and secretly cry like you did back then~"
Only Mr. C.B. would dare say such a thing. She was referring to the Tenno Sho (Autumn) that Symboli Rudolf participated in years ago, where the latter, as the heavy favorite, suffered an upset loss to the 13th-favorite Gallop Dyna.
As for the "crying" part, rumors had circulated, though no one knew the source. No one dared mention it to Symboli Rudolf's face, and many fans refused to believe that the steadfast, powerful "Emperor" would cry over a single defeat.
But C.B., being from the same generation, knew it was true. Only among intimate friends and contemporaries would she speak of it. Even if she was now at the pinnacle of the Japanese Horse Girl world, Rudolf had once been immature; losing after a long winning streak was something even she admitted was a bit childish of her back then.
But no matter how much she had moved on, having her "dark history" exposed to her face made Rudolf feel a bit embarrassed.
"Hey, C.B., aren't you being a bit..."
Massaging the throbbing vein in her temple, Symboli Rudolf was about to demand an explanation when Katsuragi Ace interrupted her.
"Forget about you and Rudolf for a second, C.B.!"
Katsuragi Ace clenched her fist tightly, as if she were about to throw a punch right in front of C.B.'s face. She shouted with sudden excitement, "That Japan Cup! That Japan Cup that moved us all so deeply! You haven't forgotten it, have you?!"
"You definitely planned to go all out from the start. I don't believe a word of that 'just playing around' talk!"
"Do it again—face me in a duel, Mr. C.B.!"
...This girl... (x2)
The previously carefree C.B. suddenly looked exasperated, a sentiment shared by Symboli Rudolf. After all, regarding that "Japan Cup" from back then, both of them were victims of the "backstab" delivered by the champion, Katsuragi Ace.
And just as Katsuragi Ace said, the moment she heard she could clash again with her old rivals, C.B. felt her heart skip a beat.
She was a Horse Girl who yearned for freedom, and her personality reflected that. Otherwise, she wouldn't have won so many races using the then-unconventional "End Closer" strategy, nor would she have shattered common sense by winning the Japanese Derby from the outermost gate 18.
She simply ran the way she wanted to run—and she won. Just as she did whatever she felt like in her daily life, this personality led her to live in an independent dorm like Maruzensky, so as not to trouble others.
But regardless of how "free" her tactics or lifestyle were, no Horse Girl is truly indifferent to winning and losing. Even if she didn't fall into a psychological trap by obsessing over victory, the thirst for it was the same for all Horse Girls. Even if this relay race didn't have a "technical" winner across separate segments, she felt it was enough if she knew the outcome in her own heart.
In this relay, she very much wanted to defeat her two old rivals. She believed that her friends and opponents standing before her felt the same way.
"...Wow, even though there's still time before the race starts, they look like they're about to burst out of the gates."
Witnessing the exchange and expressions of her juniors from the same era, Maruzensky smiled leisurely, as if she were merely a spectator. "It looks like this will definitely be a fierce race."
"I really hope there are more races like this in the future."
"Don't you agree, Ramu?" She turned and asked the girl beside her, Mejiro Ramonu.
"Isn't this exactly what you hoped for, Senpai?"
Responding with a smile, Ramonu's gaze swept over the staring match between Mr. C.B., Symboli Rudolf, and Katsuragi Ace, the corners of her mouth curling higher. Then, she looked in the direction where the helicopter had disappeared.
"Of course, it's what I hoped for, too."
"After all, clashing with two such outstanding sisters and testing their strength... as an older sister, it's something I'm very much looking forward to..."
The helicopter had already finished scouting the 4,000-meter first leg of the race. Aside from the number of spectators exceeding expectations, Kitahara felt everything was under control. It wasn't just the first leg; the situation was similar for the subsequent two segments.
Outside the fences of each section, the three-tier temporary stands were packed. Further out, fans—some of them bold enough to drive their cars right up to the edge—stood on their car roofs, faces glowing with excitement for the coming race.
Kitahara had initially wanted to use the high-altitude vantage point to locate Komiyama and the others, as well as Special Week and T.M. Opera O. However, with such a massive crowd, he could only see a sea of heads and colorful banners, streamers, and balloons. He couldn't even distinguish Horse Girls from humans, let alone individual faces.
This visual spectacle made Kitahara worry about the commentary again. He instinctively pulled a small booklet from his pocket and began flipping through it. It contained the template commentary he had already memorized dozens of times. As a trainer, he was confident he knew the athletes better than any announcer or guest. But commentary was a professional job—how to report the status clearly and timely, how to build atmosphere, and how to control his own emotions—all required professional training.
Before he could turn two pages, a spirited voice came from the front.
"Impossible! You must absolutely not shrink back, Kitahara-san!"
Without looking up, Kitahara knew it was Akikawa Yayoi. Surprised, he looked toward the co-pilot seat to see Yayoi wearing a headset, half-turned around, holding out a stack of documents.
"Here, look at this."
"This is...?"
Before Kitahara could even open the file, Yayoi—who had just told him to read it—started speaking impatiently.
"I intend to promote this kind of relay race."
"My initial thought was to include it in the Academy Festival and the Welcome Ceremony."
"I hope that in the future, the academy's events won't just be the usual relaxed club activities, but also activities that showcase the Horse Girls in their running form."
"And that means races."
The logic was easy to follow. Kitahara also believed that if the goal was to showcase the academy and Horse Girls to the public and new students, a race was the best medium. A relay was particularly suitable; with multiple segments and runners, the tactics were less grueling than a formal race, and the physical toll on each individual was smaller, meaning it wouldn't interfere with their regular training or upcoming official races.
However, as Kitahara skimmed the documents while Yayoi explained, he quickly cried out in surprise.
"Extending this to the Twinkle Series? This... will the URA Association even allow it? Wait... these signatures?!"
His initial shock was at the "Twinkle Series New Race Proposal"—the "extension." The documents revealed these were long-held plans of Yayoi's, with this relay race and its subsequent promotion within the academy serving as the catalyst. Kitahara was only surprised by the speed; he remembered her mentioning similar ideas six months ago, and now there was already a formal draft.
It was the content that followed that he was completely unprepared for.
"Ah, you mean that joint petition."
Turning back to look through the windshield at the long stretch of track ahead, Yayoi's face lacked her usual childish excitement. Instead, she looked like the true Chairwoman of Tracen Academy, her expression full of controlled confidence.
"Well, it did take some time."
"Juniors like Ten Point, Tosho Boy, and Green Grass were easy enough; they give me a lot of face."
"Especially when they heard Maruzensky was participating; they were actually a bit annoyed I hadn't told them sooner."
"Truly troublesome juniors. But understandable."
"After all, as exciting as that Arima Kinen was back then, both the public and the girls themselves wished Maruzensky could have run in it."
"The 'Strongest'... well, it's a headache. They're all like children, obsessed with that title. Hahaha!"
She let out a brief, characteristic laugh before turning serious again.
"Loco Gaby and her group were also fine. Though I was racing in Europe at the time, we're actually quite close in terms of era—contemporaries, really."
"To be honest, if the Chairwoman's work weren't so busy, I might have shared their feelings and wanted to try stepping onto the track again."
"As for Haiseko's generation, Take Shiba-o's generation, Speed Symboli, and Shinzan-sensei's generation... let's just say they are 'supportive.'"
"Even if they've fully mastered their 'Domains,' the Domain isn't omnipotent. They simply cannot resist the decline in strength that comes with age."
"But their support is all that matters."
"And then there's..."
At this point, the Chairwoman's gaze instinctively shifted back from the window to the driver's seat for a split second before she continued:
"It was actually quite a surprise that Kurifuji senpai approached me personally to discuss this."
"But regardless, having the support of the senpais has made me very excited. It gives me much more confidence in my planning."
"And for all of this, Kitahara-san, I believe you deserve a great deal of credit."
Suddenly, Akikawa Yayoi shifted the focus of the conversation.
"...Me?"
Kitahara, who had been flipping through the documents with a heavy heart, froze.
He was in a state of absolute shock.
The names Akikawa Yayoi had just rattled off were, without exception, names etched into the very bedrock of Japanese Horse Girl history. Any single one of them could represent an entire era on her own.
For instance, the names most recent to the current time—Ten Point, Green Grass, and Tosho Boy—represented the "TTG" generation, an era that simply could not be ignored. The Arima Kinen that served as their final curtain call, featuring a 200-meter death match on the final straight, had become one of the most legendary races of all time.
Maruzensky belonged to that same generation. Her retirement due to injury just before that legendary Arima Kinen had left fans wondering "what if" for decades.
Every other name on that list carried similar weight, and yet all of them were signed in support of Akikawa Yayoi's proposal. This was something Kitahara had never anticipated. Even more unexpected was the claim that he, personally, had a hand in it.
"That's right!"
Nodding with absolute certainty, Akikawa Yayoi turned halfway around again, looking him straight in the eye. "If it weren't for your discoveries regarding the 'Domain,' they would never have dared to support this draft so boldly."
"A trainer like you should understand—every name on that list represents legendary strength. They are all Horse Girls who have completely mastered the Domain"
"And because of that, even without your theoretical knowledge, they understand one thing perfectly: without the protection and empowerment of the Zone, a Horse Girl whose prime (physical peak) has ended can never, under any circumstances, race again."
"If they did, a career-ending injury would be the best-case scenario."
"But you gave them a future that transcends those consequences. To borrow the words of one senpai: you gave the Horse Girls a dream-like opportunity to feel the speed of the wind once more."
"I know research into the Domain is still in its infancy, but you won't give up. You will surely take that divine gift from the Three Goddesses and hand it over to all Horse Girls."
"The day will come when every Horse Girl can stand on the stage of her choice. That will be a New Era."
"And I believe that when people in that era look back at today, they will see this seemingly casual race as the overture that raised the curtain on that New Era."
"That is why I insisted that you be the one to commentate."
"Do not—absolutely, positively do not—fear or shrink back at this moment that will be remembered by history, Kitahara-san. Everything you say today may be recorded as part of that history."
With a sharp snap, Akikawa Yayoi unfurled her fan, holding it out before Kitahara as if presenting it to him.
"I won't say things like 'relax' or 'don't be nervous' like others might. You are the type of person who performs better the more pressure you are under."
"Actually, to make a joke: if you were a Horse Girl, you'd be the type of genius who performs average in minor races but goes undefeated in G1s. So, instead, I'm going to tell you exactly how much weight you are carrying."
"This race isn't entertainment, and it's certainly not an end. It is a beginning. For the sake of everything that follows, don't back down. Brace yourself and carry it all, Kitahara-san."
Yayoi's words left Kitahara in a long silence that lasted until 3:00 PM—the exact moment when all the Horse Girls participating in the relay had finished their paddock introductions and warm-ups and taken their places at the starting lines.
During that silence, he stopped worrying about the commentary. He didn't even think about the broadcast; he didn't think about anything at all. He had fallen into a strange daze, triggered by the realization that a dream he once held was suddenly within arm's reach. To use an equally strange metaphor, it was like a girl you've had a secret crush on for years suddenly telling you she's been in love with you the whole time.
In a moment like that, it's impossible to think clearly.
But just as Akikawa Yayoi had said, he truly was the type to excel under pressure. Perhaps his workaholic nature was rooted in this very trait. Faced with the "new" job of commentating, he began to perform with an instinctual fluency.
"All Horse Girls have entered the gates."
Looking down from 300 meters up, staring at the black asphalt road that cut through the sea of people like Moses parting the Red Sea, Kitahara watched the five familiar figures enter the gates.
Instead of following a rigid, textbook reporting style, he decided to follow his heart and adopt his own unique flair.
"Some fans might be wondering why we use starting gates for Horse Girls instead of the starting blocks used by human sprinters. The answer is simple: they are too powerful."
"Under a kick force capable of reaching 60 kilometers per hour, human starting blocks would be crushed instantly. Even the best reinforcement can't guarantee against equipment failure. This is especially true when the runners for the first leg of this relay are legends of Japanese racing history."
Normally, a commentator would list each girl's position in the gates, but Kitahara didn't. His words felt less like play-by-play and more like a profound expert evaluation.
Strangely, while crowds usually roar in response to a commentator's excitement, the sheer weight of his calm, direct opening caused a wave of cheers so massive it felt like it might flip the helicopter from below.
Kitahara didn't give the crowd time to process their fervor. As he spoke, the confirmation from the ground crew reached his headset. After acknowledging, he fixed his eyes on the five closed gates. The moment they snapped open, he shouted the signal with millisecond precision.
"Start!"
"A perfect start for everyone! The runners of the first leg have been away from the track for a long time, but their skills haven't diminished one bit—their break from the gate was beautiful!"
"Not only have they not diminished, their strength may have even increased. Their initial acceleration is incredibly fast; the sensors show their current speed is close to the final sprint speed of some official races!"
"Simply magnificent!"
With the technical support of the Eisei Team and the resources provided by Akikawa Yayoi, this race was equipped with more sophisticated and advanced tracking technology than most major racetracks. Data was transmitted in real-time to the helicopter's monitors.
Using that data and his own experience, Kitahara could provide a pinpoint-accurate analysis.
"Unlike most races, the five runners aren't aggressively fighting for the inner rail or swapping positions. At 4,000 meters, this track is longer than any Twinkle Series race. It's a wise choice to hold back early and conserve stamina."
"Currently leading is Katsuragi Ace, using her signature 'Great Front Running' style. I imagine her position comes as no surprise to the fans."
"The surprise is Maruzensky in second place. Unlike her historical performances, she hasn't chosen to lead or contest the front with Katsuragi Ace. There is currently a gap of 2 and 1/5 lengths between her and Ace."
"Following closely are Symboli Rudolf and Mejiro Ramonu. Both have coincidentally chosen a 'Late Surging' position, maintaining a 1 and 1/2 length gap behind the leading Maruzensky."
"In the 'End Closer' position is Mr. C.B. This, too, should be expected. I trust no one has forgotten how this common-sense-breaking Horse Girl won so many victories with this exact tactic. She is three lengths behind the group."
In this delivery, Kitahara had essentially taken over the roles of both play-by-play announcer and expert guest. It wasn't that he was trying to talk over Akikawa Yayoi; it was because, while his voice sounded professional and steady, his mind was screaming in a "System Error" loop of pure disbelief.
He wasn't telling the audience the full truth—especially regarding the speed. With the instruments, he could have stated their exact velocity down to two decimal points, just as he had with the distances.
The problem was, if he actually announced those numbers, the cheers from the crowd would likely turn into screams of terror.
The speed of those five Horse Girls wasn't "close" to a final sprint. They were exceeding the finishing speeds of most professional G1 races. You couldn't tell the difference with the naked eye from that height, but many in the audience knew what those speeds implied. If the truth came out, it would cause a riot.
And Kitahara knew the reason behind it.
Symboli Rudolf and the others... every single one of them was currently in the "Domain."
As I thought... they all joined this race with the intention of settling old grudges from years ago...
Forcing down the turmoil in his heart, Kitahara continued:
"Perhaps it's the mutual understanding of former rivals, or the familiarity of daily life as friends—the five runners haven't made any big moves in the opening phase. They are rapidly approaching the midpoint of the first leg..."
"Wait!"
Just as he realized they had all entered the Zone—whether unexpected or entirely predictable—his eyes locked onto the track as the formation shifted. His mind red-lined again.
"Maruzen—cough—it's Maruzensky!"
"Maruzensky has suddenly accelerated!"
(End of Chapter)