A Ritual Offered Before the Curtain Rises

April 28th, the day of the Aoba Sho.

After getting off the train and passing through the ticket gate, the damp wind clung to my face all the way as I followed the crowd toward Tokyo Racecourse.

The rainy season had yet to arrive, but the dark clouds looked ready to spill raindrops at any moment.

The second I looked up at the gray sky, I lowered my head again, as though defeated by the pressure of those heavy clouds.

They said that memories closely tied to emotions were stored in the mind like some kind of permanent program.

Especially memories dominated by negative emotions. No matter how much one subconsciously wished not to remember them, they would stubbornly occupy a corner of the mind like bamboo shoots.

April 27th, Heisei Era 23—yesterday, eighteen years ago, Mejiro Farm had announced its dissolution, bringing half a century of glory and setbacks to an end.

Perhaps because I had finally set foot on the path of becoming a breeder myself, memories that should have faded after the farm's dissolution had recently grown clearer, along with the bitterness of the emotions attached to them.

A sigh escaped unconsciously.

It had nothing to do with the race itself. What lingered in my mind at that moment was a grayish-white hue, like the oppressive sky overhead.

Perhaps this was what they meant by saying that the feeling of transience was strongest in spring.

"After the Aoba Sho, the Derby won't be far off."

"Yeah... No matter what, I won't miss that kid's Triple Crown ticket this time."

Hearing the pedestrians ahead, already turning the corner, say that, I finally came back to myself.

"A Triple Crown ticket..."

At last week's Satsuki Sho, the opening race of the Classic Triple Crown, Light's Wedge—who had lost to