The next morning.
Before Ireland's morning fog had fully lifted, Kuroha had already pulled Oguri Cap—who was long used to waking early for morning runs—into the rented black sedan and driven out of Gildune Manor, heading for Leopardstown Racecourse in the south of Dublin.
The car rolled along the country road, passing endless wheat fields and flat plains on both sides. The air was especially crisp at this hour, damp with the mixed scent of soil and grass. To let Oguri Cap get some fresh air, Kuroha deliberately rolled the passenger-side window all the way down.
"Hoo…"
Wind poured into the cabin, ruffling the girl's soft ash-gray hair.
Oguri Cap braced both hands on the window frame and leaned forward curiously, her long horse ears twitching now and then as she picked up the sounds of a foreign morning.
Cows flickered past by the roadside, along with ancient stone walls. Her clear eyes were full of wonder.
At times like this, the razor-sharp aura she carried on the track seemed to vanish completely.
Right now, she looked more like a country Cinderella seeing the city for the first time—pure, earnest, and filled with a raw, unfiltered curiosity about the world.
Kuroha kept one steady hand on the wheel and glanced at her from the corner of his eye, smiling as he asked,
"You're about to step onto a real overseas course. Nervous?"
"Mm…"
Oguri Cap pulled her head back in, tilted it as she thought for a moment, then nodded honestly.
"A little."
It was a track she'd never seen before, and people she'd never seen before.
These days at Gildune Manor, training had gone smoothly—but in day-to-day life, Oguri Cap had been introverted to an extreme.
She couldn't understand what the foreign trainers and horse girls were saying. Their exaggerated gestures and unfamiliar customs didn't make sense to her.
Even some of the "local cuisine" here felt… strange.
Well… she still ate it anyway.
So in a completely unfamiliar environment like this, it would be weirder if she wasn't nervous.
Kuroha chuckled, about to offer a few words of reassurance—
But he noticed something sharp.
Oguri Cap said "a little nervous," and her hands on her lap were trembling slightly.
Yet the rhythm of it wasn't the shrinking shake of fear or unease.
It was the tremor that only came from being too excited—so keyed up it spilled into her body.
"So that's what they mean by a big-match heart…"
Kuroha marveled quietly.
The stranger the setting, the bigger the stage, the more it seemed to push her into a higher gear.
The girl beside him—who could look a bit airheaded at times—felt like she'd been born to be a battle king meant for major races.
"Looks like you're hungry. Your hands are shaking."
Kuroha didn't call out her excitement. Instead, he casually pulled a pre-packed bag of whole-wheat crackers from his pocket and handed it over.
"Here. Get some energy in you."
The instant she saw food, Oguri Cap's slightly serious expression cracked on the spot. Stars practically lit up in her eyes.
"Trainer's the best!"
A moment later, Oguri Cap happily took the crackers and started eating, cheeks puffed out. Just like that, the last of her tension evaporated.
…
Half an hour later—
The car left the country road and merged onto a broader main route, the scenery gradually turning more modern.
Before long, the silhouette of a grand structure appeared at the end of their view.
A massive grandstand rose and fell like white waves, and the green turf glistened under the morning light.
Even from far away, it carried a solemn weight—an air that felt almost lethal.
"We're here."
After confirming their destination, Kuroha drove smoothly into the racecourse parking area.
…
They showed their credentials and passed inspection by several Irish security staff built like iron towers.
Then Kuroha led Oguri Cap into the core area of Leopardstown Racecourse.
Inside, it was already buzzing.
Even though it was only the first day of public acclimation training, several teams from different countries were scattered across the wide track.
And of course—at a time like this—there were plenty of spectators and paparazzi.
On the turf, several horse girls in different-colored racing outfits were stretching or jogging lightly to warm up.
Each one had a professional-looking trainer at her side, watching her movement closely, thinking and analyzing, constantly adjusting plans.
Everyone stayed in their own zones as if not interfering—
Yet the air was thick with invisible smoke.
The trainers looked focused on their own horse girls, but their eyes also kept measuring and evaluating the competition.
When horse girls' gazes met, there were no words—only the brief flash of sharp light that sparked like flint.
"No one recognizes us," Oguri Cap said, brushing cracker crumbs off her hands as she stared around blankly. No one came over to gawk or greet them. It felt different from Central Tracen.
"Because we're nobodies in Europe."
Kuroha smiled. He wasn't bothered at all—if anything, it suited him perfectly.
Playing weak and then flipping the table was always the most satisfying kind of performance in an arena.
"Go on, Oguri."
He pointed toward the wet, deep-green track.
"Get up there and feel it. See how it's different from the turf at Gildune Manor."
"Mm."
Oguri Cap nodded.
She stepped forward, crossed the barrier, and set foot on the turf that carried countless dreams and honors.
The instant her horseshoes sank into the soil—
It was like a switch had been cut.
The country Cinderella from the car—hair in the wind, cheeks full of crackers—vanished.
Oguri Cap's spine snapped straight. The slightly wandering look in her eyes condensed into a needlepoint cold gleam.
That soft, dorky aura was gone without a trace, replaced by something heart-stopping—pure, primal pressure that made the air feel heavier around her.
…
At the same time, high above the racecourse, in the Royal VIP box.
This was the best view in the entire venue—warm and luxurious, like a different world from the muddy turf below.
"So boring…"
A petite young woman in an exquisite dress, with sleek brown hair cascading down her back, lay without a shred of decorum against the huge floor-to-ceiling window.
She had a doll-like face and an effortlessly aristocratic air, the kind you could tell was born into her.
From the way her attendant addressed her, her identity and name were clear.
The Irish royal princess—Fine Motion.
This angelic-looking princess held a delicate macaron in her hand, but she didn't even take a bite.
She just stared down at the moving figures below, like ants crawling across the track.
To someone who'd seen top-tier races all her life, this slow, cautious acclimation training—where everyone hid their real strength—was painfully uninteresting.
"All these lifeless running styles… not even half as fun as afternoon tea," Fine Motion muttered, about to push away from the window—
When suddenly…
A gray-white figure intruded into the edge of her view, startlingly out of place.
And with it came an overwhelming sense of presence.
"Hm?"
Fine Motion froze, her gray eyes narrowing slightly as she blinked.
Instinctively, she felt she had to keep watching.
Down on the track, that unassuming gray horse girl began to jog.
It was only a jog—but every step she placed carried a heavy, unsettling weight.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Even through the thick soundproof glass, Fine Motion felt as if she could sense the cadence of the ground trembling.
Next, the figure entered the first corner.
But like the others, she didn't explode into some dramatic, strange speed.
She simply ran a full lap at the most basic cruising pace.
"…"
Fine Motion blinked, momentarily stunned.
For some reason, that horse girl felt completely different from the others when she ran.
"Mora, who's that one?" she asked. "The one with the ash-gray hair."
Behind her, a strikingly beautiful royal attendant stepped forward at once, checked the roster, and lowered her head respectfully.
"Your Highness, that is a representative from the Far Eastern island nation."
"Her name is—Oguri Cap. A newcomer attending her first international G1 overseas."
"A newcomer… Oguri… Cap…"
Fine Motion murmured the name softly, then leaned against the glass again, cheek pressed to the cool surface. A bright, innocent smile curled at her lips.
"That's so strange…"
"We're all horse girls, but she looks like… she's just different from everyone else."
The attendant hesitated, unsure how to respond.
"Heehee."
Fine Motion turned, popped the macaron into her mouth in a single bite, and her eyes gleamed with expectation.
"Decided! I'm coming to watch the race three days from now!"
"I have a feeling… this one's going to be really interesting!"
(End of Chapter)
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