A week had passed since my chaotic first day at Tracen Academy.
Nothing particularly dramatic had happened to me since then — I'd just been enjoying my daily life.
Every now and then I'd drop by the student council room to chat with Ten Point-san or have small talks with Rudolf-senpai. I attended normal classes and listened to the instructors explain the practice fields.
Unfortunately, until today, new students like me hadn't been allowed to train on our own.
That's because today marks the start of the first mock race for new students.
To measure our current abilities, all training had been prohibited until this very day.
"Now, it's time for the new students' mock race! As usual, we'll have turf and dirt courses at 1000m, 1200m, and 1600m!"
"For the new students, this is a chance to show their current abilities! For the trainers, an opportunity to discover future stars! From here begins the true life of Tracen Academy!"
A mock race with live commentary — really?
Still, the part about "this is where Tracen life truly begins" did make sense.
The reason there's no race longer than 1600m is because new students are still physically immature — not fully developed yet. I learned that in our race theory class.
From the second year of middle division onward, selection races will be held at 2000m, like the Junior Class races in the game.
Also, scouts aren't allowed to recruit middle division first-years yet — something I never knew from the app.
It also turns out that "Make Debut" races only start once a student reaches the high school division, when they've matured enough.
Unless, like Nishino Flower in the app, a girl matures exceptionally early and gets special permission, middle schoolers can't debut.
I could've sworn Tokai Teio debuted back in middle division, but… if that's just how this world's rules work, then I guess this world's Teio will debut in high school instead.
Honestly though, I don't have the luxury to worry about the future right now.
This mock race is my very first race ever.
I want to see how far I can go as I am now, so today I'll give it everything I've got.
"Hey, Nature. How're you feeling?"
Since I was signed up for the turf 1600m race, I still had some time.
I was watching the earlier races to calm my nerves when I heard someone call from behind.
Turning around, I saw Rudolf-senpai and Ten Point-san walking toward me.
The day after the entrance ceremony, I'd already gone to visit Ten Point-san, bringing Rudolf-senpai along. Rudolf-senpai looked delighted to hear Ten Point-san's stories, and Ten Point-san seemed equally happy to have another junior who admired her.
Seeing those two get along made me happy too.
"Ten Point-san, Rudolf-senpai! What brings you here?"
"Well, we came to cheer for our dear junior, of course. Can't miss your first race, can we?"
"March forward bravely, Nature. Give it your all."
Their encouragement filled me with energy — so much that even if I'd been in the worst condition, I'd feel like I was at my peak again.
I mean, seriously — what kind of horse girl wouldn't get fired up after being cheered on by legends like these two?
I felt my motivation surging.
This was my first race — not just as a new student, but as a horse girl.
And yet, deep down inside, that hidden anxiety I'd been holding as Nice Nature started to surface.
"Ahaha… I'm really thankful for the support, but honestly… I don't feel like I can win."
"Hey now, where's that fiery spirit from the other day? Don't tell me you've already lost your nerve."
"She's right, Nature. If you lose in your heart, you'll never cross the finish line first in any race."
"This will actually be the first real race I've ever run."
The two looked puzzled, so I began explaining — about my past, back before I regained my memories.
Normally, most girls who enter Central Tracen Academy start young — joining training clubs or junior races during elementary school, steadily building up results.
They begin early, with age-appropriate training, and compete in URA-sponsored junior races or local tournaments.
But I never did any of that.
After my father passed away, my mother raised me on her own.
She ran a bar, so she often worked nights, but still forced herself to handle housework for my sake.
I wanted to make things easier for her, so I took care of chores whenever I could.
My mother worried that I never asked for things or went out to play, but honestly, I was fine with it.
I liked chatting with the shopkeepers and old folks from the local shopping street — that was fun enough for me.
Maybe that's why I never really had close friends at school or chances to "run" as a horse girl.
The only time I ever ran was when the shopkeepers or local grannies played with me because they worried I didn't have friends my age.
Before I knew it, I'd become the "daughter of the whole shopping street."
Looking back, I guess I was a bit of an oddball for a horse girl.
Most horse girls would've begged to run or to race — but not me.
I think I unconsciously suppressed that instinct.
Because I didn't want to trouble my mom or anyone in the neighborhood.
I figured I'd just go to some normal middle and high school, graduate, and help out at Mom's bar — living a quiet life without ever running.
That's what I thought… until the winter of my sixth-grade year.
That's when my mom and everyone from the shopping street surprised me — by handing me an application ticket for the Central Tracen Academy entrance exam.
"Nei-chan, you're fast! We'll be rooting for you, so go run your heart out in the races!"
"You've never been able to be selfish before. It's okay to be selfish this once."
Apparently, my mom and everyone from the shopping street had been saving little by little to cover my tuition and exam fees.
I was so happy I cried.
Not because I could finally run or race — but because of their kindness.
"That's probably my starting point," I said softly.
"I've never run in a race, but thanks to my mom and everyone else, I got to shine for the first time back then."
"…You've got a wonderful family," said Ten Point-san quietly.
She was right.
They're my pride.
"You've only started later than everyone else," Rudolf-senpai said.
"From here on out, you'll just have to run ahead of the pack."
"Of course. I may not be confident, but I'll do my best — for my dream."
'Next up: Turf 1600m participants, please gather at the starting gate.'
The announcement echoed from afar — my race was next.
I lightly slapped my cheeks with both hands.
The sting sharpened my focus, fueling my fighting spirit.
"Ten Point-san, Rudolf-senpai — I'm off!"
""Go get 'em.""
Alright.
Let's go. Let's run.
"And now, the final race of the day! Turf, 1600 meters, right-handed course.
All participants are now entering the gate!"
My number: #3, Lane 3.
As always — 3.
"Here are today's top favorites!
First favorite: #4, Honest Words!
Second favorite: #3, Nice Nature!
Third favorite: #6, Alive Karin!"
To my surprise, I was the second favorite.
Still, knowing I was behind in experience, I treated every other racer like they were stronger than me.
At least I didn't hate the gate — that was my one advantage.
While the others fidgeted nervously, I stepped in without hesitation.
"All gates loaded! We're ready for the start!"
Focus.
Concentrate.
I took my stance, ready to spring forward at any moment.
Even before the race began, my heart was pounding so hard I could hear it, and my palms were slick with sweat.
"And they're off! A great start from the top favorite Honest Words and #1 Primera Chica!
Second favorite Nice Nature is right behind them in third!"
The gate burst open — I leapt out.
A perfect start! …And I immediately realized I'd messed up.
In the app, Nice Nature's a closer — a horse girl who holds back and finishes strong.
She can go mid-pack too, but her skills work best from behind.
I'd planned to hang back and watch the others, analyze their moves…
But overthinking my "slow start" ended up giving me a great start — and now I was running front pack.
(It's fine! Nature can handle running near the front! I'll just pace myself and save my burst for the end!)
No use crying over it now.
I settled into my position, keeping third — but soon realized just how far behind I really was in ability.
(They're too fast! My stamina's draining too fast!)
My breath came ragged. My lungs burned. I couldn't even swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth.
While the others ran smoothly, still conserving energy, I was already pushing near my limit.
(What's different? What's wrong? Find it — find the difference between me and them!)
If I'm behind, I have to learn and steal from them.
Even in the app, I'd trained Nature — I knew how to observe and adapt.
My thoughts blurred, but I refused to stop analyzing.
(Why am I using so much stamina? What's different between my running and Nature's?)
I forced my legs to move faster, holding position behind the front two while watching their movements carefully.
They were taking longer, smoother strides —
While I was pumping my legs twice for every one of theirs.
We hit the corner.
I hugged the inside rail, fighting against the G-forces that tried to throw me outward.
(I knew this, didn't I!? I'm not human anymore — everything's different!)
If I were still human, I would've slowed down long ago, thinking "this is stupid."
But now? I was running purely on guts — for my dream, and nothing else.
(Come on! Find something! Don't waste this race!)
A girl beside me surged ahead, starting her sprint early.
I caught a glimpse of her stride — and realized it.
(That's it! I knew this already! The way horse girls run is completely different from humans! Of course I can't win running like a human!)
Humans and horse girls run by totally different mechanics.
Think of it like gears:
Horse girls generate immense energy — like a giant gear.
If I try to move that big gear using my "human running" — a tiny gear — I'll just waste tons of energy spinning faster for the same output.
That's why I was burning through my stamina so fast.
I was forcing a human stride into a horse girl's body.
My stride was too short, my steps too frequent — a broken rhythm.
(Then I'll fix it — right here, right now!)
I remembered it clearly — the real Nice Nature used long, steady strides.
I'd seen her run hundreds of times in the app. I could picture it perfectly.
If I remembered it, I could become it.
Because—
(I'm Nice Nature too!)
If I'm Nice Nature, then I can run like her too.
(Fewer steps — longer strides! Lower your head! Cut through the wind!)
Bit by bit, I reshaped my body's rhythm —
Turning me as Nice Nature into Nice Nature as me.
Stride. Posture. Flow.
(Switch from human gears… to horse girl gears!)
My breathing eased.
Still rough, but manageable — close to the rhythm of the other runners.
"Now they're coming out of the final corner and into the home stretch!
Honest Words still in front! Two lengths behind, Primera Chica! Falling back slightly!
Alive Karin is closing in fast!"
Like hell I'll give up.
Nice Nature's pride is her late charge!
"Here comes my sprintttttttttt!!"
Without thinking, I screamed and pushed my legs harder.
Maintaining stride length while increasing turnover — blending stride and pitch.
My feet dug deep into the turf, driving me forward.
Breathing grew harsh again, the world fading into a tunnel of soundless white — only pain and motion remained.
But I didn't stop.
"Nice Nature! Nice Nature's coming up fast!
What a finishing kick! She's overtaken Primera Chica for third!
Can she reach the leader!?"
But in the end… the stamina I'd lost early on, and my wasted motion, caught up to me.
**"No—she won't make it!
First place: Honest Words, leading wire-to-wire!
Second: Alive Karin, half a length behind!
Third: Nice Nature, two lengths back!"**
I didn't catch the leader.
I hadn't expected to win — but still.
"…Third place again, huh?"
I muttered one of Nice Nature's trademark lines without thinking.
I'd given it my all, and learned so much.
For someone like me — behind in experience — third place was honestly amazing.
Even so—
"…Not winning still hurts, doesn't it…"
Tears slipped down my cheeks before I realized it.
Hot, stinging tears of frustration.
Ahh…
Nice Nature, you really are amazing.
Even when you knew you couldn't win, you never gave up until the end.