Sonoda Racecourse sits in the northeast of Amagasaki City, midway between Osaka and Kobe, the only Local track in the Kansai circuit and a crowd favorite.
Best of all, it is only twelve kilometres from Takeda Club—exactly why Takeda Makoto chose Sonoda for her Debut Race.
Car-sick? Doesn't matter; we'll just jog there in under half an hour.
The dirt is far softer than turf; during the warm-up Tamamo Cross already looked uncomfortable, slipping dangerously whenever she tried to accelerate.
There's no secret to dirt: plant your hooves harder, burn more stamina than on grass, learn the rhythm. No Horse Girl has a magic formula—run it until it feels natural.
Takeda Makoto wasn't worried; he remembered the original Tamamo Cross had started on dirt, moved to turf only after finding her stride.
Making her Central debut on dirt—Central does have dirt tracks, though turf is seventy percent—proved she had at least some aptitude for it.
Never mind the current ratings: Turf D, Dirt F, Synthetic D, Sand G.
Like any stat, those numbers would climb; Makoto was sure her turf and dirt would rise fast, maybe to A, even S.
Luckily Sonoda is close to Hanshin; after training he could ride his electric scooter home with Tamamo Cross in tow. The trip took longer than from Hanshin Academy, but nothing else changed.
The wall calendar in the office flipped page by page, the black numerals creeping toward 25.
By the eve of the race her dirt form had improved; the app now showed Dirt Adaptability: D.
25 November, overcast and ready to rain at any moment.
Jogging from Takeda Club to Sonoda Racecourse, Tamamo Cross looked distracted.
In truth, she had been that way for days.
It was her Debut Race, her first official start—nerves were normal.
A Trainer telling her not to be nervous would only make it worse.
And Makoto himself was even more nervous; no one can guarantee victory before the gates open. Horse-girl racing has no certainties, especially for a late-bloomer still months short of her three-year-old season.
Starting a late-bloomer early… if the debts weren't about to come due, he would never have risked it.
The piled-up loans were almost at deadline; if she didn't win today, his situation would turn ugly.
Still, he put on a relaxed smile.
"Tama, just run your own race."
——————
By early afternoon spectators were streaming into Sonoda Racecourse. On the grandstand facing the Final Straight, small clusters stood chatting; unlike the tiny school stands, this huge platform has no seats.
Staff had built a simple T-shaped runway between the grandstand and the track—the paddock show so fans could size up the runners.
First through the curtain came a tall Horse Girl with orange hair; she snapped her jacket forward and struck a cocky pose.
The announcer called, "Number five, Waiting Game, the public's top pick! She looks in high spirits and fully prepared—one of today's leading chances!"
Fans cheered.
"Waiting Game, bring it home—win that Debut Race in style!"
"With her talent the Debut Race should be easy."
Waiting Game waved, scooped up her jacket and disappeared; the next girl stepped out.
Twelfth draw, outermost lane—Tamamo Cross came last. On the runway every trace of nerves had vanished; she strutted to center-stage and flung her coat so hard it almost landed in the grandstand.
"Now entering: number twelve, Tamamo Cross, a graduate of Ritto. Will she handle Sonoda's dirt? Whatever the case, the crowd fancies this girl who was meant to debut at Central—third in the betting!"
"That tiny thing's from Ritto? How'd she end up out here?"
"Obvious—too small for Central. Should still win locally, though."
"Don't write off Waiting Game—Central blood or not, she won't fold!"
On stage Tamamo crossed her arms, waiting for the roar. Makoto, ignoring the chatter, cleared his throat—only to jump at a sudden roar.
"Go Tamamo Cross! Show 'em what Ritto girls are made of!"
He turned: banner-waving Ritto Bro in the front row. Beside him stood another familiar face—the Chasing-Horse believer who'd watched her time-trial.
"Bro, you've got the nose—found her debut!" Ritto Bro shouted.
Chasing Horse held a "Chasing Horse Tamamo Cross Must-Win" banner. "After that trial I couldn't stay away. Checked her registry, found her Club, saw the Debut Race entry…"
Makoto grinned—Tamamo already had fans.
Only two, but it was a start. He cleared his throat again; the Trainer's voice had to reach her.
"Tama—"
Another yell cut him off.
"Don't you dare lose here, Tamamo Cross! You can only lose to me!"
Across the way Gensei Reiichi waved while Eishin Flash shouted.
"Tamamo-nee, fight on!"
Higher up, on tiptoe, Takeda Kaya flushed red, calling with all her might. Behind her Takeda Kanae clapped gently.
Tamamo waved back, engraving every supporter into her eyes.
They all came—can't let them down. Let's grab that win!
She scrambled after her coat, the show ended, and the girls filed through the underground tunnel as the bugle called the start.
In the empty tunnel only hoofbeats echoed. Tamamo Cross drew a deep breath and walked into the bright expanse.
The tiny earpiece—new racing gear—let her and her Trainer check in one last time.
"Testing, testing—can you hear me, Tama?"
The familiar voice made her tail flick.
She bounced twice on the ochre dirt and tapped the earpiece.
"Loud and clear, Torare-na-san."
"Good. Repeat the plan."
Through the earpiece came the roar of the crowd.
"Wide draw—don't fight for the Inner Lane. Sit behind the Central pack, wait for the lane, then strike from the Outer Lane and take it."
That's right—this race is using the Betweener strategy, not the riskier Chasing Horse. It is, after all, her first Debut Race; the Chasing Horse plan has too many unknowns—when to kick, getting boxed in, one wrong call and you're buried.
In a race decided by fractions of a second, the Betweener, sitting just behind the leaders, is the safer seat.
"All right, stay on rhythm and run your heart out."
Tamamo Cross slipped off her headset and, under the staff's guidance, stepped into the gate.
Announcer: "The clouds over Sonoda look blacker than sea-urchins in the Seto Inland Sea—let's pray the rain holds off till the finish."
Track-side caller: "Beneath those threatening skies, twelve Uma Musume will contest Sonoda's 1,400-metre dirt Debut Race for three-year-olds. Only one can claim the laurel and graduate; the rest must face the brutal 'winless' bracket.
"The favourite, Sonohoka, looks full of confidence, while second in the polls, Neo Universe, seems less than thrilled with that assessment."
"All eyes are on No. 12, Tamamo Cross from Ritto—will she show us what a top school can do?"
Announcer: "Let's hope for fireworks and a finish too close to call!"
Track-side caller: "They're loaded and ready."
[Three, two, one—they're off!]
The gates snapped open as one; twelve bodies exploded outward, flinging a sheet of dust into the air.
"A clean break for all twelve. On the inside, No. 1 has the early lead… In the middle, crowd-favourite Sonohoka, with Neo Universe glued to her flank. Neo Universe has clearly marked Sonohoka as the main threat; she's sitting on her heels, applying pressure, trying to force Sonohoka off stride."
"Tamamo Cross, wide, passes two and tucks in right behind the Central pack—now she's on Neo Universe's tail. The three headline fillies are stacked together like dominoes."
The short chute ends; every runner finds her cruising spot. The first turn is already upon them.
Neo Universe glances back, confirming Tamamo Cross is still parked behind her.
"Ritto girl—let me teach you how dirt tastes."
The instant they hit the bend, Neo Universe eases yet drives hard with her hind legs, sliding toward Tamamo Cross and kicking up a rooster-tail of mud.
"Oh, trouble! Tamamo Cross was sitting too close—dirt track rookie mistake! She swallows a face-full of grit and loses momentum!"
A wave of ochre slush slams into her. Caught off-guard, Tamamo Cross can't dodge; her face is plastered black, the lane ahead a blur. She checks into the turn, and the field streams past.
By the time she wipes her eyes, she's dead last and flying solo.
A ripple of dismay sweeps the grandstand.
"Turf fillies on dirt—knew it wouldn't work. She's done."
"Stage belongs to Sonohoka and Neo Universe now."
…"Tama-onee, don't give up—go!" Little Kaori, barely following the race, panics the moment she sees Tamamo Cross at the tail.
"That's cheating—so dirty! She meant to do it!" Eishō howls.
Gensei Reiichi beside her looks grim; Tamamo Cross's late kick is lethal, but too big a gap is simply too big.
Takeda Makoto's fists clench, then slacken.
Stay calm.
"It's fine, Tama. Don't force it. If you're behind, run the Chasing Horse."
As if she heard him, the white filly settles, drops into the pocket, and begins to stalk.
The only happy soul is the self-proclaimed Chasing-Horse evangelist in the stands: "Told you! Tamamo Cross is a chaser—she'd never betray the cause!"
The race rolls on. At the end of the mid-stretch, Sonohoka and Neo Universe have slipped clear, nose to tail.
Neither has pulled the trigger; each waits for the other to blink and fire the first shot.
They swing into the final bend; beyond it lies the long grandstand straight. The instant they enter the turn, Neo Universe pounces.
"I'll take it from here."
Dirt fountains under her hooves, her arm-swing sharpens, and she surges past Sonohoka with a taunt.
Uma Musume aren't human; they can talk while sprinting—Makoto learned that watching Tama and Eishō trade insults mid-race.
"Final bend—Neo Universe is wide and winding up; she thinks she can blow by on the curve. Sonohoka won't hand over the lead—she kicks too!"
Orange hair streaming, Sonohoka stamps the ground; the gap Neo Universe opened freezes, then slowly shrinks.
"Into the straight they come, swapping the lead stride for stride in a blistering match race! The rest are nowhere… wait—wide outside, someone's flying! It's… it's Tamamo Cross, last seen in the carpark!"
Head down, the small white rocket slices through the pack like lightning, forgotten no more.
She eats ground at a terrifying rate.
"Outta my way, you two!"
A cyclone blasts between them; through the dust cloud a grey-white bolt streaks for the wire.
"What a monster finish! Ritto's Tamamo Cross is coming to get them!"
The stands erupt—nothing fires the blood like a Chasing Horse charge.
"Go, Tamamo Cross—show them that freakish late gear!"
"So cool, Tama-onee!"
The whole cheer squad is jumping.
"Tamamo Cross still leads, but it's tight! They're coming for her—can Sonohoka or Neo Universe reel her in before the wire?"
Two hundred metres left—everything hangs on the next few strides.
"Aaaaargh!" Neo Universe roars, stretching every sinew to close the gap.
Sonohoka grits her teeth, already at redline.
Yet the margin only widens; Tamamo Cross is pulling away.
"Too late! Tamamo Cross takes it—Tamamo Cross wins!"
She straightens up, arms high, riding a roar of applause and clatter of seats.
"Textbook drive—perfect lean, piston stride!"
"That's Central Academy for you!"
"A late kick like that couldn't cut it at Central, so she's here in Local? Give me a break!"
Lightning flickers through the yellow haze, the sky cracks open, and for an instant the whole course is bleached white.
Facing the grandstand, Tamamo Cross sweeps her right arm like a sword, cutting down every last doubt.
Rumble——————
Thunder rolls, drowning cheers and claps; the world goes hushed.
A drop hits her cheek. She lifts her face as curtains of rain descend.
Tamamo Cross wins her Debut Race by two lengths.
Mud-streaked, hair plastered to her forehead, she looks a wreck—yet her smile is sunlight in a typhoon.