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The same training routine is definitely taking a greater toll on Air Groove by the month. As she cools down from today’s session, thanking her trainer on the way out, she feels just a little more convinced that her remaining time in the Dream Trophy League isn’t long. As much as she’s going to miss racing, she does look forward to taking up a mentoring role full-time. Her talent for picking up on students’ unique instructional needs hasn’t gone unnoticed, and she’s quietly begun to work towards an official teaching position at Tracen, while searching for a successor on the student council.
Although Groove, as the Empress, aims to be a guiding beacon for all umamusume, she is especially fond of checking in with Tracen’s fillies and young mares, doing whatever she can to ensure that they shine as brightly as their stallion counterparts. She heads to a bench in the corner of the courtyard where she has arranged such a conversation with Vodka. The cheerful filly, still somehow energetic after her own training, bounds over to Groove with a wave.
“So, I’ve been thinkin’ real hard about my race schedule,” Vodka says as she plops down on the bench next to Groove, swinging one leg over the armrest and propping the other foot up on the seat.
Groove, with her back straight and hands in her lap, considers asking Vodka whether it would kill her to sit properly. She guesses that this is probably Vodka’s “cool” sitting pose, though. Whatever “being cool” means here, Groove doesn’t understand, but it’s clearly important to her unofficial mentee.
“Yeah? Are you perhaps… hesitating on the next Triple Tiara races?” Groove replied. Vodka was a self-assured uma overall, and was more than skilled enough to keep doing well after the Oka Sho. She could be worried about losing to Daiwa Scarlet, but that didn’t seem likely - the two acted excited to race each other.
Vodka scratches her chin. “I… I’ve always wanted to run in the Derby. ‘Since I was a kid’ type of deal. Already ran it by my trainer, they’re cool with it, they just want me to be super duper sure before we actually register. I know it’s weird to mix Crown and Tiara races together, though I can’t win the actual Triple Tiara by now, hah.”
Groove remembers that Scarlet had beaten Vodka in the recent Oka Sho. But the core of what Vodka just shared, the Derby, sends Groove reeling with surprise.
“The Derby, huh.” Groove wonders whether Vodka has already been warned about the unspoken rule, the staggering odds she’d be up against. But this seems to be what Vodka wants, and Groove would fail as an Empress if she passes the insecurities that gripped her career onto her juniors. “Can you tell me more about what… draws you to it?”
“Aw yeah,” Vodka gets a glint in her eye. “It was the first race I remember my dad took me to, and it was such a fun time. And… you know Gimlet, right? Tanino Gimlet?”
“I didn’t interact with her much, but she was Brian’s roommate, so yes,” Groove responds.
“Brian! Her too! But yeah, I always thought Gimlet was like, the absolute coolest uma around. The way she dresses, the way she runs, it’s inspirin’, y’know? And Brian is so…. effortlessly fierce, with this insanely cool aura as well,” Vodka says. “And they both won the Derby when they were my age.”
Groove can somewhat relate to this. She had decided on the Oka and Shuka Sho because that was just what strong fillies did, and deep down, she had doubted that she could perform well against colts in the Crown races. But the Japanese Oaks was a different matter. Years down the line, the fact that she has followed in the footsteps of her mother’s Oaks victory still fills her with pride. So with Vodka’s father and two of her idols pulling her heart towards the Derby, Groove assures herself that Vodka seems to be doing this for the right reasons.
“You said that your trainer wants you to be completely sure in your decision. I assume that something is making you uncertain?” Groove inquires.
“Well, it’s… Scarlet. She’s gonna be in the Oaks, of course.” Vodka brings her knees up to her chest. “I wanna get my revenge after the Oka Sho. We’ve each won a race against the other, so Scarlet wants to beat me to prove that she’s better. As if that’ll ever happen!” Vodka straightens out her posture, placing her hands on her hips as she gets a bit carried away with her rivalry. “Um. We’re talkin’ about the Derby and stuff. Right.”
Groove softly chuckles with a hand over her mouth. Well, she thinks that continuing a rivalry is also a perfectly good reason to enter a race. Neither the Oaks nor the Derby seems like a bad option for her junior.
They both muse silently for a few moments.
“Y’know? When I think about watching the Oaks, and watching Scarlet beat everyone without that chance to challenge her, I feel kinda bad,” Vodka starts. “But if I think about goin’ to this year’s Derby, and I’m just in the stands? And I won’t ever get a chance to be in the Derby ever again after that? That feels… miserable.” She takes a deep breath. “I’ll get to race against Scarlet again. I won’t get another chance at the Derby.”
Vodka glows with a newfound determination. “Groove, I’m super duper sure.”
Groove shouldn’t be so surprised that Vodka has just come to her own conclusion without needing advice. She reminds herself again and again that just listening to others is often more helpful than jumping straight to her commentary on the situation.
She gives one of her practiced encouraging smiles. “You are more than strong enough for the Derby, Vodka,” she says, although she suspects that Vodka has little doubt about this herself. “I’m glad that you’ve come to a decision that feels true to yourself, and I look forward to cheering you on. Let’s make sure you know what to expect when the race comes around.” She stands and motions to her mentee. “Let’s get dinner. My appetite is kicking in.”
The two umas head toward the cafeteria at a leisurely pace. Now that Vodka has made her decision, Groove’s mind starts going through every possible aspect of preparation for the Derby - registration logistics, the longer distance compared to the Oka Sho, the winning concert. Most of it is a trainer’s job to oversee, and Vodka’s trainer is young but competent enough. So the most important thing for Groove to advise Vodka on is the intangible part. The atmosphere of the Derby, the towering height of the expectations upon the racers. It’s something a trainer can observe, but only a racer will truly experience.
Crucially, Groove remembers what that atmosphere was like as the only filly entering the Autumn Tenno Sho and the Japan Cup. All eyes were on her, but not in the warm way of placing high hopes on a beloved racer. In the paddock, and behind the starting gate, it felt like her hard-earned right to run in the races was placed under a microscope. She wants to make sure that if Vodka faces this cold scrutiny during the Derby, she finds herself able to push past it.
Groove herself had taken the audience’s doubt into her heart, and churned it into spite. It propelled her to victory in the Tenno Sho, and finally let the world recognize her as not just strong for a filly, but as a true giant of her generation, the Empress she had constantly pushed herself to become. But Vodka isn’t so driven by ideals and expectations in the way Groove is.
She mulls over how to phrase all of this. “I’m sure you’re aware that no filly has even entered the Derby in eleven years, and hasn’t won in sixty-four. People have long since doubted that umas like us stand a real chance in the Triple Crown races,” she begins. “Even I seem to have internalized this expectation. Which is… unbefitting of me as an Empress who guides fillies and mares, and must change.”
Groove pauses for a breath. “I wonder whether the act of defying this convention for fillies is another factor drawing you to the Derby. Or does it perhaps cause you worry?”
“Hmm… I’ve definitely thought about the fact that everyone else in the Derby is gonna be a colt, and if I manage to win anyways, that would be really excitin’, of course,” Vodka says. “But I’ve always been kind of a weird girl, right? Maybe I’m also a weird filly? I dunno, I just… I don’t wanna think about bein’ the only one too much, ‘cause I don’t want that to stop me.” She points to her chest. “I wanna run in the Derby as me. And I’ll run the way I always do.”
Vodka facepalms after a second. “Ugh, that sounds like I said I’m not gonna improve my runnin’. I swear that’s not what I meant. Ya get it, right Groove? Right?”
“You intend to give it your all in the Derby just like you would in any race?” Groove offers, to which Vodka nods.
The older uma continues. “You want to see yourself as just any other Derby racer. I stand with you on this, but I want to warn you that the audience and the commentators will see you differently. It was certainly that way when I ran in combined G1 races. It was… alienating.” Her expression hardens a little as the memories surface. “Maybe someday you’ll be announced as Vodka, the coolest racer around, juking everyone in her final dash just like how she swerves on her epic motorcycle, or something. But in the Derby, you’re going to be spoken of as ‘that one filly’.”
Vodka’s ears droop at this. “Man, I can’t say I’m lookin’ forward to that. But I guess it’s just somethin’ people are gonna say. Hopefully my dad and my friends are gonna come, and they know me for me. I think that’s gonna help.”
“I will come to watch you as well. Again, I want you to know what to expect, but I hope that it fails to let you down.”
“I’ll be sure to spot you in the stands, then!” Vodka initiates a fist bump. They’re in line for food by now, so they pause their conversation until they find a table.
Groove has more to say, but it can wait until she’s gone through a bit of her curry. She soon clears her throat. “Especially for a race as important as the Derby, there’s more to it than the run itself. It is crucial for each racer to present themself at the paddock in a dignified manner. If you act awkward or unsure of yourself at that step, it risks reflecting on fillies as a whole.”
“Oh, like the poses we make when showing off our racewear? I’ve been practicin’ those aaaallll the time,” Vodka says.
“I somehow doubt that those would be best described as ‘dignified’,” Groove says with a sigh. “Oh well, as long as you’re sure you can execute your pose consistently, and run it by your trainer. You’re surely not going to be the most eccentric racer in the lineup, so just find a pose that feels as serious as possible that you still enjoy.”
Groove takes a few more bites of curry. “Now, the concert is another key aspect of presenting oneself as a racer. Have you been practicing Winning the Soul?”
“Uh, to be honest, I often kinda forget like half the dance moves and make somethin’ up that feels right. It turned out alright at the Oka Sho? Scarlet made fun of me only a little?”
Groove facepalms and sighs deeply. “I guess we’re going to arrange you some impromptu Winning the Soul dance instruction. I would teach you myself, but I never performed that particular song. We will head to the student council office after we finish eating. A certain Derby winner is sure to be found there.”
“But doin’ the exact same dance moves that you’re supposed to is lame,” Vodka mumbles with her ears flopped. “...Fine, I’ll give it a try, just for you. You’ve been real helpful and all.”
They quietly finish their meal and walk upstairs toward the council room. As Groove is about to head inside and call out for Tokai Teio, Vodka stops in the hallway, scratching her head awkwardly. “Hey, Groove?”
“Yeah?” Groove turns to her.
“I, uh… thank you for all you’ve done here, really. Not just for me. I know you were worried all your life about provin’ yourself as a mare, but… the more I learn, the more it really sounds like you’ve helped change what it’s like for us,” Vodka says. “Sounds like it was a lot tougher back when you were in the Twinkle series. People still think me switchin’ from the Oka Sho to the Derby is weird, but no one’s been tellin’ me that I can’t do it, y’know?”
“That is… very touching, Vodka,” Groove says, warmth welling up inside her. “Looking back, I must admit that much of the doubt I faced about my abilities as a mare was self-imposed. It’s not like anyone ever told me directly that I couldn’t achieve things. It’s more like this doubt was woven out of tiny judgments and assumptions, the kind that permeate the air around us, too small to be spoken aloud. And… it sounds like the air has cleared up a bit for your generation. Clear enough to keep the Derby dream in your sight. To say that I’ve played a part in this means very much to me.”
The smile on Groove’s face is genuine, and soft. It’s her turn to awkwardly offer Vodka a fist bump. It is the duty of an Empress to adapt to how her mentees express joy, after all.
She soaks in the moment for a bit, then turns toward the office door. “Let’s head in, shall we? The famous Teio Step isn’t going to teach itself.”