Chapter 62. Dream Encounter: Dober Ver. (Part 2)
However, once inside the gate, Shuta An's mind snapped back into razor-sharp focus.
He subtly tightened the reins, adjusted his posture, and waited in stillness for the decisive moment.
—Click.
The crisp sound of the starting mechanism rang out, clear and almost pleasant to his ears.
In an instant, Shuta An drove forward with his arms, urging his partner to explode from the gate. For a race that demanded initiative, a slow start would be nothing short of fatal.
But the Ash-white Uma Musume beneath him reacted a beat too late—far too late. It was as if she were still savoring the taste of leaves secretly nibbled in the waiting area.
Shuta An's expression darkened.
"Are you serious? A direct late start, at a time like this?"
His thoughts raced. 'Mejiro McQueen, in a race this important? Do we really need to add gate drills to the regular menu?'
The same sinking realization struck Trainer Ikee Tairo as he watched from the connections' stand.
'This never happened in training.'
"I'll have to apologize to Shuta-kun after the race," he thought grimly. "If there's a late start, it means my adjustment failed."
While late starts could sometimes be blamed on jockey error, Ikee Tairo never once considered that possibility. In his understanding, Shuta An simply did not make such mistakes.
Meanwhile, inside Mejiro McQueen's body, Mejiro Dober quietly let out a breath of relief.
If it's a late start then Shuta-kun probably won't insist on front-running, she reasoned. If he's anything like the one in the real world.
She had no proof—only intuition. Yet that intuition felt unshakably correct. And sure enough, after glancing at the field sweeping past from the outside, Shuta An sighed softly.
"Alright, then we chase."
In an instant, he revised the plan.
'Conserve energy. Minimize consumption. If conditions don't allow it, we'll challenge the 1-win Class again.'
His thoughts paused briefly.
No—three weeks later. In half a month, I'll be riding in the Japanese Derby. There's no way I'll be back in Kyoto then.
Decision made, Shuta An guided his partner to the rear of the pack, calmly waiting for a fleeting opening.
The commentators immediately caught on.
"What's this? Jockey Shuta An, drawing an inside gate, has chosen to hold Mejiro McQueen back?" the live announcer exclaimed. "A horse that's never run from behind—is he planning a late charge? This is completely unlike his usual style!"
"Could it be because of the late start?" the guest commentator speculated. "Did he abandon the original plan?"
"Even so," the announcer replied, shaking his head, "that doesn't feel like Shuta An's approach. Unless the start was completely unrecoverable, he usually fights for position early—especially here at Kyoto."
In the VIP area, tension quietly spread.
Madam Kitano, the Mejiro ranch's spokesperson, turned sharply toward Ikee Tairo.
"McQueen has never used a hold-up strategy before, has she?"
"No," Ikee answered honestly.
"Then why is this happening?" Her eyebrow lifted slightly. "Did Shuta An fail to execute the tactics?"
"It's my responsibility," Ikee Tairo said without hesitation, lowering his head. "My adjustment was insufficient. McQueen wasn't fully prepared for the gate."
Facing one of the most influential figures in Japanese ownership, Ikee firmly took the blame upon himself, shielding Shuta An from criticism.
"Hmph. Then I'll ask Shuta-kun about it later," Madam Kitano said coolly, clearly unconvinced.
On the track, Shuta An remained oblivious to the undercurrents off-course. His entire focus was fixed on the race—on staying patient, conserving strength, and waiting.
By the time the field passed the 1000-meter mark, his internal clock gave him the answer.
About sixty-two seconds.
"That's slow," he muttered. "Painfully slow."
Yutaka Take and Oka Junichiro were running just beside him.
Aren't they worried? Shuta An frowned. If no one breaks this pace early, we'll all get dragged into a trap.
The moment they reached the Yodo Slope, he made his move.
With a decisive cue, Shuta An asked his partner to accelerate, slipping out from the rear and closing the gap toward the tail of the leading group.
Yutaka Take reacted instantly.
"This time, I'm marking Shuta-kun!"
Oka Junichiro, however, hesitated.
"Accelerating here? On the Yodo Slope? Is he insane?"
Choosing not to follow, Oka maintained his rhythm at the back, conserving everything for the final straight.
Shuta An sensed the pressure from behind—and didn't care in the slightest.
'Marking is a good tactic' he thought coolly. 'But only if your opponent has no answer.'
After cresting the Yodo Slope, he looked ahead to the downhill stretch, the corner of his lips lifting.
"I'll build momentum here—then release it all at once after the final turn."
'A little shock should do the trick, Take-kun.'
Beneath him, Mejiro Dober felt the body's response with calm clarity.
'So this is McQueen from another world' she observed. 'Stamina is abundant, but burst power is average. Then the downhill really is the key.'
Her thoughts aligned perfectly with Shuta An's intentions.
As he began to press forward, he suddenly realized something astonishing—the rhythm beneath him was flawless.
Perfectly synchronized.
Shuta An realized. "Not quite 'one heart, one body' but this feeling—this is good."
He chose not to disrupt it, carrying that harmony all the way toward the finish. At the same time, Mejiro Dober narrowed her eyes slightly.
'Even if I'm relying on this body's instincts it feels like it's just me and Shuta-kun here.'
Her mood lifted unconsciously.
'Then I'll try a little harder, she decided. Just this once—I want to taste victory, even if it's only in a dream.'
As they rounded the final turn, Shuta An deliberately drifted outward for several steps, cutting off Yutaka Take's line like a controlled slide. Then—
A signal whip.
The Ash-white horse surged forward, speed erupting in an instant.
"Uwaah! You even whipped me there!" Mejiro Dober protested internally. Yet she wasn't angry at all. After all—
Compared to the intensity of the worlds she drew, this was nothing.
———
The next morning, Shuta An awoke refreshed. His journey through the Dream World had concluded the previous night with an impressive record—six wins in ten races. More notably, he had even out-maneuvered Yutaka Take in a race alongside Mejiro McQueen, an outcome that left the latter grumbling for several minutes straight in the jockeys' lounge.
Drifting outward at the exit of the final bend had been neither dangerous nor a violation of the rules. At most, it merely earned Trainer Ikee Tairo a routine warning regarding flat training.
In any case, with Mejiro McQueen claiming victory, Ikee Tairo paid it little mind. He even cast Madam Kitano a glance tinged with faint smugness.
Madam Kitano—who had assumed sole stewardship of the Mejiro Family after her beloved's passing—finally relaxed her brows and murmured softly, "Now there's no reason to question the jockey."
As her words settled, she turned to Ikee Tairo. "For now, McQueen's primary objective remains the Kikuka Sho. There's no need to rush. He'll return to the ranch for grazing first, then reappear in late summer to accumulate prize money."
"Yes! I understand!" Ikee Tairo nodded vigorously. Yet he understood all too clearly the deeper reasoning behind the arrangement.
The Mejiro '87 group—Madam Kitano had always favored Mejiro Ryan the most. She feared that McQueen might be pushed out too early, forced to chase earnings, only to compromise her preparation for the Kikuka Sho.
Realizing this, a trace of regret surfaced in Ikee Tairo's heart. "Perhaps I shouldn't have let Shuta-kun ride McQueen—With this result, her chances at the Kikuka Sho have risen significantly."
He frowned, then shook his head. "Forget it. Even if I truly offend Madam Kitano, at worst I'll lose some resources. Later, I can ask Shuta-kun to connect with Shadai and make up the difference."
—
When Mejiro Dober awoke, she instinctively rolled over and reached back to rub her hips. In the Dream World, that area had been struck repeatedly by Shuta An's whip. The sensation itself hadn't been unpleasant—but the mental impact left her sprawled on the bed, unable to rise for a moment.
"Why was it so realistic?" she questioned silently. "They say dreams reflect what you think about during the day, but even so—it shouldn't have been this kind of dream, right?!"
After resting briefly, Mejiro Dober finally got up, washed her face, and changed into her Central Tracen Academy uniform, preparing for her morning exercise.
Meanwhile, her roommate, Taiki Shuttle, remained fast asleep, clearly in no hurry to wake.
"Won't Taiki-chan be late today?" the thought crossed Dober's mind—only to be dismissed just as quickly. "Never mind. I'll train first. If she's still asleep when I get back, I'll wake her up then."
—
Upon stepping onto the academy's training ground, Mejiro Dober began with light warm-up exercises before easing into her run.
As her pace stabilized, her eyes lit up slightly. "Am I running faster than yesterday? But this should only be about thirty percent effort."
A thought surfaced unbidden.
"Could it be because of last night's dream?"
For an instant, she even felt the urge to call Shuta An and ask what he had dreamed about—but she immediately suppressed it.
"If I actually asked that, Shuta-kun would probably think there's something wrong with my head—"
Just then, a cheerful voice called out, "Dober-chan! Good morning!"
She snapped back to reality and saw Tokai Teio, dressed in the same academy uniform, stretching nearby.
"Good morning, Teio-san." Mejiro Dober stopped and bowed slightly. She knew Tokai Teio had already joined Team Sadalsuud—making her a senior in every sense.
"Why so polite, Dober-chan" Tokai Teio laughed, though she accepted the bow with a smile. "I talked with Berno-senpai, you know. I didn't expect you to join the team instead of McQueen I guess that guy wants to challenge me from another angle, huh?"
Mejiro Dober couldn't bring herself to respond. Agreeing or denying would both be inappropriate.
Realizing this, Tokai Teio waved it off with an awkward laugh. "Well—keep up your morning training, Dober-chan. I was very satisfied with your last request~"
"Okay!" Mejiro Dober replied quickly. "If Miss Teio needs me again, feel free to entrust me."
She carefully avoided mentioning how close she had come to letting that request slip to Shuta An.
—
Silence Suzuka, on the other hand, was in exceptionally high spirits. Winning the Principal Stakes and securing her entry ticket to the Japanese Derby had lifted her mood considerably. The night before, she had dragged Taiki Shuttle—who had helped her with special training—out for a proper celebration, only returning to the dorm just before curfew.
As a result, she had been sternly lectured by the dorm manager.
Fortunately, however, Suzuka occupied the dorm alone, sparing others from being inconvenienced. When she woke the next morning, the Carrot-Haired Horse Girl let out a quiet sigh of relief.
"The days of slacking off end here," she muttered, rubbing her cheeks. "Next is the Japanese Derby. I can't afford to be complacent."
For her, achieving a good result there would mean dispelling Shuta An's doubts—and more than that—
"I'll be able to face him with confidence." Silence Suzuka closed her eyes, resolve firming in her chest.
"I have to prove that I can do it."
—
Compared to Suzuka's motivation, Oguri Cap was the very picture of laziness.
With her periostitis not yet fully healed and her earlier diagnosis of suspensory ligament inflammation still a concern, Shuta An had restricted her to low-intensity swimming exercises. Land training was forbidden—running even more so.
As a result, Oguri Cap had been looking especially sluggish lately.
"Should I give Oguri some work to do?" Shuta An muttered, watching the Gray Uma Musume lounge comfortably in a rocking chair, juice in hand. "For example—"
For a moment, nothing suitable came to mind. Or rather, he truly hadn't had much to do recently—his days split between accompanying Oguri Cap and Berno Light, or simply resting.
In the end, he found himself an answer.
"How about reviewing reports on the American turf Twinkle Series?"
At last, Shuta An had found himself a task.