Race Day

"Hey, Mr. Kitano's here!"

Raising a half-empty beer can, the drunken man spoke in a slur.

"Good evening, Mr. Takashima."

Kitano gave the drunk a slight nod, then headed for the topmost seats of the open-air grandstand.

They were hardly close—calling them strangers would not have been an exaggeration.

But at Monbetsu, where the grandstand had pitifully few seats, regulars' faces were especially easy to recognize.

Especially someone like Kitano, who came every race day.

After exchanging greetings with several people in a row, he took an empty seat in the stands.

He could have watched from the owners' section, but even there, the only difference from the open-air grandstand was an extra fence that barely served any purpose.

Whenever attendance picked up, even people without owner registration could easily slip in.

The so-called owners' section was that casual in practice.

More importantly, the view there was not much better than from the open-air grandstand.

"I knew Endless Flow wouldn't stay down so easily!"

"But if you ask me, it's still all about jockey Iwahashi. That kid Agishi is just too young."

After the warm-up of the earlier races, the atmosphere in the stands had already grown quite heated.

The racing fans enthusiastically discussed the races, every one of them wearing an expression of complete confidence.

Some of them would soon be howling in despair.

The rest would be cheering and celebrating.

Scenes like that had replayed themselves countless times in this tiny grandstand.

Before long, large numbers of betting tickets were tossed into the air.

All kinds of indistinguishable voices blended together.

Kitano got to his feet and walked down from the stands.

Sure enough, trying to grasp the situation in a constantly shifting race was still a little too much for him, at least for now.

"Mr. Kitano!"

As he passed the owner seats painted blue, a somewhat unfamiliar voice called out beside him.

It was Kimura, whom he had met once before. He sat alone in the owners' section.

An obvious smile hung on Kimura's face.

So the horse that had won just now was his—

"Congratulations, Mr. Kimura."

Kitano said.

"It was nothing, really. Just good luck."

Though he kept speaking modestly, the smile at the corners of Kimura's mouth became increasingly impossible to suppress.

"Does your racehorse have a race today too, Mr. Kitano?"

he asked with a grin.

"No, I'm just here to watch the races."

Kitano shook his head in denial, and a flicker of surprise appeared on Kimura's face.

"Haha, I didn't expect you to like horse racing that much too, Mr. Kitano."

With that, Kimura tugged at his tie. "Come to think of it, it really is hot today. Why don't we go have some tea in the lounge later?"

As a member of the Hokkaido Owners' Association, he could use the lounge at any time, where the view was better and interruptions were less likely.

The lounge refrigerator was always stocked with unlimited oolong tea for the owners.

"Not today."

Kitano waved his hand and pointed at what he was wearing.

"It would be far too rude to enter the lounge dressed like this."

He had come to the racetrack straight after finishing his house calls.

The smell on him was not bad enough to disgust anyone, but the shorts and short sleeves he had chosen for convenience were hardly appropriate attire for a formal setting.

"I see. I hadn't thought that through."

With that, Kimura patted Kitano on the shoulder. "But if you get the chance, please make sure to visit New Life Ranch. My wife's lobster soup is absolutely superb."

"Of course, of course."

Kitano nodded repeatedly, responding to Kimura somewhat absentmindedly.

By the time he came back to himself, Kimura had already gone quite far toward the awards area.

Thinking of the lobster soup he had just mentioned, Kitano rubbed his empty stomach.

Though he had eaten two energy bars in the afternoon, he could now clearly feel the hunger in his belly.

"I might as well eat here."

Like other racetracks, Monbetsu Racecourse also had shops that served food and drinks.

One was a Hokkaido-style Jingisukan barbecue restaurant, while the other was a snack bar selling simple fast food.

Kitano chose the latter.

It was not because his pockets were empty, nor because he was engaging in some ascetic form of self-torment.

It was simply because the vegetables served with the Jingisukan barbecue were bean sprouts.

Being picky was an adult's right.

That remained true even when the choices were limited.

"One curry rice, for here."

Entering the snack bar, Kitano casually found a seat near the entrance.

Then he turned his gaze toward the broadcast screen on the wall.

"Your curry rice. Enjoy!"

Before the race card for the next race had even finished scrolling to the bottom, the steaming curry rice had been served.

Just in terms of speed, this "Winning Horse Curry" was already worth its 620 yen.

He picked up the accompanying plastic spoon and scooped up a heaping mouthful of curry.

It tasted exactly like 620 yen.

As Kitano ate his curry rice in small bites, the racing fan beside him calmly stirred a bowl of raw beaten egg.

Then he picked up a piece of sizzling Korean-style beef and rolled it through the egg.

The race began.

The moment the starting gates clanged open nearby, nearly every customer in the snack bar seemed to have been put on pause.

It was as though every sound had completely vanished at that instant.

Kitano expressionlessly ate another bite of curry.

The racing fan beside him rolled the beef through the egg again.

"The field has now reached the third turn! Number five, Hokuriku Wakoku, has opened a clear gap over the trailing pack!"

On the screen, the commentator spoke faster and faster.

Only a small portion of curry remained around the edge of Kitano's plate.

The beef on the racing fan's chopsticks had already made several trips through the egg.

"Hiss—so spicy!"

He had not noticed it at first, but now he could feel a faint stinging pain on the tip of his tongue.

"It's Indian curry. The owner is being way too sneaky."

Silently blacklisting both food shops at Monbetsu Racecourse, Kitano hesitated before eating the last bite of curry.

"Boss, a glass of ice water."

he said as quietly as possible.

At that moment, the racing fan beside him finally raised his chopsticks.

"Number three, Great Avalanche! Great Avalanche is charging up from behind! There are only a hundred meters left in the stretch—can Great Avalanche complete the catch!"

Then the chopsticks abruptly froze in midair.

"Hokuriku Wakoku! It's number five, Hokuriku Wakoku! A magnificent wire-to-wire victory!"

The snack bar instantly erupted with all kinds of noise.

"What a shame. It was just a little short of catching up."

At last, the grilled beef coated in egg was delivered into his mouth.

Setting down his empty cup, Kitano slowly rose from his seat.

He pulled out a Kitazato Shibasaburo from his wallet, paid, took back his change, and left.

Next time, I should wait until I'm back in town to eat.