Grit Showdown

"Demon King Opera! Number four, Demon King Opera, is catching up! With only the final hundred meters remaining, Mejiro Tenma still holds a one-length lead."

The hoofbeats from behind were closing in.

Then came a rapid succession of whip cracks.

The pursuers and the pursued.

If it became a one-on-one duel, the pursuer closing in from behind would hold an absolute advantage.

That was common sense.

Ochiai did his utmost to control the sway of his body.

Demon King Opera on the outside and Lapis Doll charging up on the inside were closing in on Mejiro Tenma from both sides.

The situation was extremely dire.

No matter how the race was decided, the horse caught in the middle would surely be the first to drop out.

The three horses gradually drew level.

Beneath the ear covers, Mejiro Tenma's gray ears flattened tightly backward.

A clearly audible exhalation came from his nostrils, stretched to their limit.

He swiftly responded to the challengers' provocation.

Even the dirt kicked up by his hind hooves seemed to be flying a little higher.

Still, the situation began to turn against him.

Ochiai raised his arm and tried pushing forward.

It did not seem to have much effect.

Instead, he lost his balance and dropped back onto the saddle.

"Can you stop making trouble at a time like this?!"

If Mejiro Tenma could speak, he would surely have said that.

Ochiai quickly gave up on the clumsy driving motion.

He had a clear understanding of his own abilities.

At a time like this, it was better not to cause unnecessary trouble.

"From here on, it's up to you alone."

His gaze remained fixed on the finish line not far ahead.

Though they had been feeling out and adjusting their tactics according to the race situation all along,

they had truly reached the moment that would decide everything—or the moment to stake it all.

There was only one road ahead.

A faint sense of suffocation began spreading through his chest.

The struggle among the three horses continued on the track.

Their heavy breaths tangled in the air.

Mejiro Tenma raised his head and looked ahead, something seeming to burn in his eyes.

"Number three, Lapis Doll, and number four, Demon King Opera, are keeping the pressure on, but—"

His hind legs drove fiercely forward.

For a brief instant, the gray horse's head and neck nearly formed a straight line.

"Number six, Mejiro Tenma, leads all the way to victory!"

After releasing the reins, it took Ochiai some time before his wandering consciousness returned to reality.

"MEJIRO—"

An even more thunderous cheer than before the race erupted from the stands.

"So we won."

He let out a small sigh of relief.

If they had lost, there would not have been cheers of this magnitude.

Then came several scattered chants of Ochiai's name.

Slightly surprised, he lifted his head and waved toward the source of the voices.

After lowering his hand, he patted Mejiro Tenma's sweat-soaked mane.

The gray horse shook his head lightly, breathing heavily through his mouth.

"Looks like you've reached your limit too."

Loosening his tight helmet, Ochiai thought wearily.

"We actually won."

At the moment they crossed the line, Kitano's expression shifted slightly.

[Horses under your ownership win three races: 3/3 (Completed)]

[Reward: Green Omamori ×5]

[Horses under your ownership win three dirt races: 3/3 (Completed)]

[Reward: Green Omamori ×5]

Closing the translucent windows that had appeared before him, he lightly clenched his fist.

Then he could not help pumping it once.

"Great!"

Ogawa Masaru raised both hands high in celebration.

Smiling sweetly, Ogawa Kanna was also pleased with her own judgment.

Even Ogawa Joe wore an undisguised smile.

Priority breeding rights for War Declaration—

For a newly established small farm like Nishiken Farm, it was unquestionably an enormous encouragement.

He was even already eager to begin planning next year's breeding arrangements.

"Congratulations, Mr. Kitano!"

Outside the weighing room, Tanaka warmly greeted Kitano.

"That was a hard-fought race, but it's great that you managed to win."

Grabbing Kitano by the shoulder, Tanaka gave him several vigorous pats.

Still not recovered from the afterglow of the race, Kitano perfunctorily responded to all manner of similar and different congratulations.

The results displayed on the board showed that the margins between the top three were a nose and a neck, respectively.

For Mejiro Tenma, it had undoubtedly been a grit showdown decided by the narrowest of margins.

Before the race, Teacher Tanaka and Representative Ogawa had advised him, "This distance might be a little difficult, but it's worth trying."

They had entered the race according to the original plan, carrying a certain unease from the very start.

"Can fifteen hundred meters really work?"

With that concern in mind, he had come to Monbetsu Racecourse today.

Then he witnessed the unexpected front-running performance of horse and rider.

On the final stretch facing the stands, they had nearly been caught.

This is bad—

That had been his true feeling at the time.

Even Kitano, who considered himself a beginner in horse racing, understood the disadvantage a front-runner faced against opponents coming from behind.

Yet neither Mejiro Tenma nor jockey Ochiai yielded easily. They held firm with remarkable tenacity against the charge from behind.

At the instant they crossed the finish line, he felt another indescribable emotion, distinct from the joy of victory.

He took a deep breath.

"Thank you... very much."

Then he bowed as he said this to jockey Ochiai, who had come out of the weighing room.

"No, I should be thanking you."

Ochiai lowered his head slightly in reply.

Though he had made all sorts of decisions during the race, the final victory had still depended on Mejiro Tenma's own performance.

Horse racing was precisely a process in which rider and horse worked closely together and gave their all as one.

As the jockey, he had merely fulfilled his duty.

At the winner's circle ceremony, Mejiro Tenma hung his head somewhat listlessly.

Perhaps because he was too exhausted, he seemed much quieter than during his first victory.

"After this race, we can try giving him a short rest."

Before the commemorative photo, Tanaka offered Kitano his suggestion.

They had more or less figured out Mejiro Tenma's range.

There was no real need to consider going up to seventeen hundred meters yet, at least not at this stage.

And after this race, his exertion seemed greater than expected.

Rather than continuing to enter low-prize two-year-old restricted races, it would be better to send him out to pasture and let him rest for a while, then decide on his future campaign based on his condition then.

"That was my thought too."

Kitano nodded.

Mejiro Tenma already looked thoroughly exhausted.

Large patches of his coat were soaked, and conspicuous foam had formed beneath the tack where sweat and dirt had rubbed together.

After setting down the winner's circle lead rope, Kitano patted the gray horse's head.

It was time to let him get some proper rest.