Emergency

After we finished our slightly early dinner, the last trace of light outside the window vanished beyond the Hidaka Mountains.

I turned on the television in the lounge. There was still a little time before the weather forecast began.

After a moment's thought, instead of opening a magazine as usual, I picked up the phone lying on the low table.

Just staring at the screen could while away endless hours. I really didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"That's really impressive, Eri," Ravide remarked from the other side of the low table.

Although it had been a year full of exceptional contenders in every sense, Baozuo had still been named last year's Horse of the Year with over seventy percent of the vote, and had secured an overwhelming total of more than two hundred votes for Best Three-Year-Old Colt.

Even Traveler, who had won the St Leger Stakes in two countries that year, had received only a single-digit number of votes—though she had won Best Three-Year-Old Filly with almost unanimous support.

Horse of the Year, Best Three-Year-Old Colt, Best Three-Year-Old Filly, Best Sprinter, Best Miler—almost every category had been decided by such an enormous margin that there was no suspense at all.

Even though I had already heard the news from the JRA earlier, I couldn't help being startled when the voting percentages were released.

"Still, Lighty really got a raw deal." That comment came from Zepp, who owned fractional shares in horses through the Silk Club and Sunday Racing.

Ever since the JRA's annual awards had been announced, the deputy farm manager had worn a deeply conflicted expression.

When the actual vote counts were released just now, he had even let out a strange cry of, "Completely crushed!"

Even in Best Three-Year-Old Colt,