Chapter Text
Umamusume. They are born to run. They inherit the names of horses from another world, whose histories were sometimes tragic and sometimes wonderful, and run ever forward. That is their fate. No one knows how the races waiting in the futures of these Umamusume will end. But they will continue to run, aiming only toward the goal in front of them.
What is a name without meaning to breathe life into it?
What is history without anyone to share it with?
What is the future, without a past to guide it?
***
Fate.
Humans and umamusume all speak of fate giving meaning to their successes, their failures, their hopes, their desires, and their fears. Through fate it is said one can acquire the strength to achieve goals once thought unachievable. Through fate it is said one gains the will to make miraculous comebacks in the face of overwhelming adversity.
The Three Goddesses deemed Tracen Academy’s own Symboli Rudolf, the Emperor, worthy of a fate befitting her title. Her seven crowns stand as an unyielding obstacle, a pinnacle of success to all who dream of surpassing that insurmountable feat.
Fate deemed umamusume liked Oguri Cap and Tamamo Cross capable of breaking the misguided belief that grey coats couldn’t run. In cases like Oguri’s, where a task as simple as walking was seen as a miracle in itself, her record still reminds countless umamusume of how fate can smile down on any of them.
But fate can be just as cruel…
As many champions as the Twinkle Series has produced, there are endless names and faces buried in the shadows of victorious conquerors. Few even reach the graded races, and those that are are deemed the lucky ones. If one wants to stand at the height of racing, then you need a mix of both luck and fate on your side.
Many of Tracen’s finest know that all too well.
An undefeated junior season heralded Fuji Kiseki as the next up-and-comer to step on the stage of racing and lead the sport into a new era.
Fate would have her dominating 2 ½ length victory in the Yayoi Show be the curtain call for her time in the Twinkle Series. Another injury dousing another shining star before they even had a chance to burn brightest.
Sure, she has found her niche at Tracen passing on her knowledge to starry-eyed juniors as the dorm head of Ritto. It doesn’t change the fact that her career became just one of many that is told in ‘what-ifs’ around heated lunchroom table discussions at the academy, or hypothetical matchups spoken in the hallways between classes.
Some don’t have the desire to find their place off the track, continuously pushing themselves to get back into the racing circuit by any means possible. Silence Suzuka’s leg fracture in the Autumn Tenno Sho threw nearly all of Japan into a standstill for two weeks until she announced a successful surgery, striking hopes for a comeback.
Fate had her injury snuff out what was becoming a front-running career the likes of which the Twinkle Series had never seen since Maruzensky. Fate also had it that her arduous recovery took her overseas to America to ever-chase the ‘beautiful scenery’ she sought. Though the legacy of her injury still lingers at the Tokyo Racecourse to this day.
While both notable in their own regards, the cold truth remains in that most are swept aside to the shadows, forced to surrender the spotlight to the next generations of stars that are fated to surpass them in all their grandeur.
At least, that’s what any who follow the sport would have said before the head of the current generation traded the race track for a dusty classroom masquerading as a laboratory.
The Phantom Triple Crown
Those four words printed on the front page of every racing paper, magazine, and tabloid in the fallout of that forsaken press conference. Where there had once been cheers and exuberance following a spectacular victory at the Satsuki Shō, instead only crushed hopes and bewildered expressions from all in the press conference room. The press were practically lapping up every word their newly-monikered phantom said, no matter how brief the announcement was. It was simple—an indefinite hiatus from racing. No explanation or further comments, no future one-on-one interviews.
If only they knew the real reason behind it all. It wasn’t until days following her untimely announcement did Tachyon finally reveal the truth to me: a leg injury sustained during the Satsuki Shō in her relentless persistence to discover the limits of umamusume potential. The injury undoubtedly made worse on account of her bowed tendon in her leg—another bomb she dropped on me during that meeting.
My only trainee, cursed with a fragile body, fated to push ever-forward in her pursuit of a future she was never meant to grasp.
***
Fate……“Huh.”
“What an awful word,” I muttered.
The bench behind me creaks as I shift my weight, the wood bleached from years of long spring and summer days. Tokyo’s Sumida River Terrace cuts through the heart of the city, brazenly showing its presence to all who cross its path in the center of the downtown area. It’s hard to miss, so it isn’t uncommon to see scores of tourists huddled in groups trying to capture every sight around them in a blur of photographs, or cliques of Tracen students pressing their luck in the city center before the 10 o’clock curfew.
The hot summer night is suffocating, to put it lightly. The air around feels more like a second skin, with so many beads of sweat falling from my brow you’d think I’d just run the Takarazuka Kinen in the blistering heat of June. It’s August though, so I guess that’s close enough.
Any reprieve from the heat was found in the canned coffee I held loosely in my hand, dangled carelessly over the bench’s railing. Condensation dripped down from the aluminum, now forming a small buddle on the pavement below.
Looking up at the night sky, surrounded by the bustling noise of the inner-city and blinding neon signage, it’s easy to get lost in the delusions of grandeur. It’s easy to feel small. It’s easy to feel insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
However, this is where I’ve felt most at peace over the past few months. Among the buzzing of the metropolitan machine around me, it drowns the thoughts that continue to plague my mind each passing day.
Every night it’s the same image in my head as I stare into the dark abyss above. Confetti flowing through the air in an array of colors. The cheers that shook Nakayama’s foundations as I watched with bated breath, knuckles white as bone grasping the railing as my trainee claimed the first crown in what I truly believed could have been the next triple crown winner since Narita Brian.
At that moment, I felt invincible—that nothing could stop us on our conquest for the peaks of umamusume potential.
Instead, I am left without a trainee, and the painful reminder that I will never see her career reach its fullest potential.
It began in the weeks leading up to the Satsuki Shō. Persistent fatigue plagued me from dusk to dawn, my joints and tendons were sore, and the occasional fever kept me out of office at least a day or two each week. Not that Tachyon minded in the slightest, she could focus on her experiments without my ‘insistent needling’, as she liked to call it, always over her lack of safety precautions. Fortunately for me, Cafe, Pokke, and Dantsu all did their best to keep her from destroying half of Tracen in my absence—a difficult task I’m very thankful for their assistance with.
Back then, I chalked it up to stress and lack of sleep in my preparations leading up to the Satsuki Shō. When those same symptoms worsened following the race and after Tachyon’s hiatus, it became increasingly obvious there was more going on. Still, I ignored them.
Tachyon further absorbed herself into her research, if that was even possible. Her ‘Plan A’ had now become ‘Plan B’, whatever that meant. She didn’t spare the details, even if you found yourself unlucky enough to become a research participant, willing or otherwise. In most cases, she would have hounded me to try some new drug before attempting to spike my morning coffee after a firm refusal, but following her injury all of her research had become self-centered. That eliminated one less conversation I needed to have as my health began to further decline.
It wasn’t until Pokke’s victory at the Japanese Derby when I was forced to confront that which I attempted to avoid. The old man, Musaka, threatened to drag me to the hospital himself after he caught me pale as a sheet, wheezing for air after merely climbing two flights of stairs at the academy. Falling victim to public humiliation was one thing—being Tachyon’s trainer exposed me enough in that regard, but to have it done by someone I practically considered family? Absolutely not.
The doctors put me through all types of tests. Physical examinations, scans, blood draws, everything. They quickly surmounted what was the issue, and didn’t shy away from breaking the news to me, nor did I.
Cancer, specifically leukemia. An aggressive form that was no doubt made worse by my insistence towards ignoring my symptoms the last few months. I was a full-fledged trainer of the prestigious Tracen Academy. One would almost be mistaken for believing the trainers exam was on a pre-med track with the amount of medical terminology and physical therapy crammed in it. Yet there I was, sitting in that doctor’s office after committing blatant negligence towards my own body in pursuit of other goals.
It would also be poetic in comparison to Tachyon if it wasn’t so damn depressing…
The tongue-lashing I received from Musaka following the diagnosis was short-lived but fierce, quickly subsiding into sympathy. For as crass as the old man can appear on the outside when dealing with the average fan or people he dislikes, mostly the media, those fortunate enough to get close were quick to realize his heart was always in the right place.
***
The beeping from my watch snaps me out of my stupor. Looking down at it’s face, it’s already well past one in the morning. Shit, I’ve been out too long again. Sleep is important, especially for the sick, but more and more I find myself out here in my solitude.
Pushing off the bench with a groan as my muscles ache in defiance, I begin to make the journey back to the train station. When the New Year began, a simple walk like this would be nothing for me. Now, it felt like walking underwater.
The chemotherapy has been taking its toll on my body. Every day I feel a little bit weaker. My muscles continue to suffer from atrophy. My skin has begun flaking in spots, and small patches of rashes have been forming on my chest and arms.
They're subtle changes, but to the keen eye of a trainer it’s very noticeable. Thank the Goddesses that Tachyon and the rest of the academy can’t see me like this right now.
Winding through the city streets, I’m continuously bombarded by the city's bustling night life. Laughing, flushed faces of young adults leaving nightclubs. Tired salarymen taking up their usual spots in small ramen shops packed away alongside alleyways, fluorescent signs painting the ground in shades of red, blue, and green.
I stop for a moment, the surrounding noise melding together into a simple, low hum as I take in everything around me on a street corner.
Everything feels so familiar, yet so foreign. Despite being born in Japan and living here for the past five years, there are times where I feel like a stranger. Still a foreigner, another passing face in other people’s stories.
My accomplishments as a trainer, short tenure and all, shouldn’t make me just a stepping stone on paper. To have a trainee win a G1 race is no small feat. In less than half a year, Tachyon and I already had two.
However, to the dying it gives little comfort. Tachyon and I’s rivals continue to grow stronger. For her, an indefinite leave, and me a permanent one. We’ve already been surpassed, and that gap will only widen once I am gone.
So is my fate.
By the time I make it to the front gate of Tracen Academy, it’s closer to sunrise than midnight. I take the brass key out of my pocket, unlocking the gate.
In all manners of technicality, I’m not supposed to possess a key. Tracen is strict enough with its rules barring students from leaving the campus at night with curfew. Despite being students they are still famous professional athletes. Though having every trainer possess a key to the most prestigious racing academy in Japan, and arguably the world, was a security nightmare I’m positive Tazuna does not want to ever deal with. The key I hold was given to me by Musaka on his way off campus after he caught my awful attempt at scaling the gate one night after returning from one of my late excursions. How he has a key to begin with, and a spare to lend, still remains a mystery.
My shoes echoing on the pavement are the only sounds that can be heard on campus this time of night. Most of the student body and training staff are away at summer camp, honing both mind and body in preparation for the fall season. Those that remain are Tazuna, the logistical staff that keep Tracen running, and the few students that either had to take remedial classes or are too injured to have made the trip.
The nightly breeze blows gently across the grounds. Occasionally a loose leaf flutters across my path, catching thin lines of moonlight seeping through the canopy of trees surrounding the school.
Before I make the turn towards the trainer dorms, I feel……something.
It felt a mix of being watched from afar and having your attention pulled towards something you can’t ignore no matter how hard you try.
The Three Goddesses Statue.
Said to be the proprietors of all umamusume, it is believed they continue to watch and guide all towards the future they run towards. Many have come to the statue to profess their ambitions and dreams, praying for their blessing.
To most, the three nameless statues looking down upon all who seek their divine sanction give the impression of a maternal connection. You’d almost be mistaken for thinking students were attempting to gain the satisfaction of parents rather than deities when they come to pray. It is claimed that the Goddesses give umamusume the souls of beings from another world, so perhaps there is some truth to that notion.
In this moment though, their gaze felt rather possessive. Their stone eyes appeared almost real, catching the light from a backdrop of shining stars in the night sky. The statue's aura was observant, as if they were waiting for something.
Waiting for……me?
The wind stops, the trees on campus stand still. The sense of movement seemingly plucked away by some unseen force.
That same pulling sensation tugged at my chest, confirming my suspicion.
I was never one to pray to the Goddesses for support. Neither was my trainee, using our obligatory New Year's shrine visit before her classic year as a research opportunity to observe the placebo effect of praying to deities before a racing season. Her words, not mine.
When you’re on the precipice of severe physical decline, however, it never hurts to expand upon your options, right? If the Goddesses themselves are as unforgiving as to ignore my prayer in front of their own idols, then I’d call them malicious rather than maternal.
*CLAP* *CLAP*
I bow low in front of the statue, using the proper sequence like I would at any shrine across Tokyo. The pain and aches from bowing deeply are felt, but I didn’t let it show on my face.
I don’t pray for anything specific, but for their support. Any support.
Straightening myself, my eyes close instinctively as I take a deep breath. I feel the change before I see it.
The once-absent breeze returns, slowly brushing against my legs as it carries itself around the fountain and through the courtyard. When I open my eyes, they lock with those of the nearest statue.
Where I originally saw a piercing gaze now transformed into something warmer, more familial. The stars painting the night sky seemed brighter too, but that could all be my imagination. Perhaps my fatigue is escalating symptoms of sleep deprivation psychosis due to a lack of neurotransmit—
“Oh Goddesses, I’m starting to sound like her now,” I mumble, dragging a hand across my tired face. Before I resign myself to becoming a pitiful mimicry of my trainee, I turn back towards the trainer dorms.
The lobby of the trainer’s dorm is still, absent of any occupants. Yellow lightbulbs cast long shadows across the room, and even longer ones in the halls. A year ago I would’ve found the deafening silence eerie, but now it brings a comfort I can’t quite place.
The door to my dorm room opens with a low hum, announcing my presence to nobody but myself. My dorm room isn’t spectacular by any standards, mostly on account of it being almost a year since I graduated from being a junior trainer, but living a life of luxury never suited my tastes anyway.
I hang my jacket on the hanger near the door, further stepping into my dorm. Looking around, I’m reminded of my current predicament. My chemotherapy pump sits idly on the living room table, standing out amidst stacks of training documents and medical books. A collection of pill bottles dot my kitchen counter, meant to alleviate the side effects of the chemotherapy. With how little they’ve helped, the bottles serve as more a relic of fool’s hopes and the belief in a brighter future.
Fatigue bites into my muscles as I saunter over to the vanity, my feet dragging across the wooden floor. I reach the vanity sink, splashing cold water into my face before lifting up to look into the mirror.
My black hair is matted against my face, dangling across my tired features. Their color rivals the circles underneath my dark green eyes, carved into my face after months of restless sleep. No longer have I cared to keep my face neatly shaved, trading a smooth complexion for a patchwork of scruff.
The sigh that escapes me is longer than I intended it to be. Another restless night. Another day ends as I tumble towards an inevitable fate I can’t escape from.
Perhaps it was my lethargic state, or my mind unknowingly accepting the few remaining days of peace before the campus is brought back to life with everyone returning from camp, but as I laid myself to bed and closed my eyes, for the first time in a long while I found myself swiftly carried off into sleep.
***
Stars…
The first thing I register when I open my eyes are stars. So familiar but yet foreign, like most things in my life. I recognize some of the constellations—Little Dipper, Orion, Cassiopeia—but the sky is wrong. Where I’d expect the darkness of night tinged with the golden hue of Tokyo’s lights, I’m welcomed with a dazzling display of silver, gray, and purple, the scattered stars glimmering like gems amidst a milky backdrop.
It’s enough to shock me awake, any confusion quickly transforming into a subtle panic.
Quickly looking around, I’m on the practice tracks of the academy. Had I really sleepwalked out here? I haven’t done that since I was a child. I was just outside not long ago, the sky wouldn’t look like tha—
“Ah, you’re finally awake!” a voice pipes up from behind me.
I snap around to see whoever has joined me out here, and the source causes my breath to hitch.
Three shimmering silhouettes of umamusume appear before me. Their forms swirl in colored hues: one gold, one blue, and one crimson. The only features I can discern are their ears, tails, and the glowing pair of eyes on each figure, shining as boldly as the stars above.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” the blue umamusume says, looking down at me. “Our sincerest apologies for frightening you, I hope our introduction doesn’t come as too much of a shock to you.”
“Though I’m more shocked at your lack of manners. Were you not taught proper etiquette when greeting someone for the first time?” the golden umamusume chastises.
That finally gets me off the turf. My legs move on their own, pushing myself up before straightening myself in front of the three, bowing apologetically. “My apologies, forgive me for my improper courtesy.”
The golden umamusume hums to herself as her form pulsates once. She turns to the other two. “Disciplined and quick to correct mistakes. I sense continued encouragement may be needed in the future to ensure those mistakes stay in the past.”
Her snide comment on continued encouragement earns itself a small frown from me as I remain bowed. I’ve already got one umamusume who speaks of me as if I’m a science experiment, I certainly don’t need another.
“Come on now! So what if the first impressions aren’t up to your standards. Those quirks are what make each of us unique. The main character in each of our stories!” retorts the crimson umamusume to my defense, stepping forward playfully.
“Perhaps, but not all possess the strength to take command of their own stories.” The golden uma’s gaze fixates on me, and her shining eyes lay on me with an unreadable look. “Nor do they have the time to achieve such feats.”
I quickly look down, my face contorting into a half-scoff at another slap in the face shedding light on my fate. “Who exactly are you?” I say quietly.
“We are those who guide umamusume on their ever-loving path towards the scenes they seek beyond. We give them our strength, our wisdom, and our love. After all, isn’t that why you sought us out in the first place?” the blue umamusume asks, already knowing the answer.
Wait, that’s impossible. They couldn’t possibly be real. No, I have to be dreaming this. Surely there's no way the figures in front of me are actually…..
“The Three Goddesses?” I stammer.
The crimson goddess steps closer. “Ha ha ha! Right you are! Though it’s written all over your face. Why would a human such as yourself be here, speaking to goddesses who are directly tied to umamusume? Am I wrong?” She asks, tilting herself towards me leisurely.
“Well, um…I would be lying if I said you were,” I admitted, instinctively taking a step backwards. “Though I’m still unsure if this is a dream, a long-lasting experiment of Tachyon’s gone wrong, or if I’m really speaking to the Goddesses themselves.”
“No need to be alarmed, we are as real as you are. Although we seldom act with omnipotence as in this moment.” The blue goddess softly claims, pressing a hand to her mouth to hide what I assume would have been a giggle. Despite her soft-tempered temperament, her words carry weight.
“Then what makes me so special to be granted an audience with the goddesses themselves? There is nothing special about a human like me. I’ve barely begun my career as a lone trainer, my trainee has begun an indefinite hiatus, and you’ve already said it yourself.” I gesture towards the golden goddess. “I’m on borrowed time anyway. I’m not long for this world, any blessing you wish to grant on me would just be thrown in the dirt.”
“Your current situation is precisely why we have sought you out.” Proclaims the golden goddess, crossing her arms as she locks eyes with me.
I can only return a bewildered expression.
“But….why? There are plenty of notable people in the world. If this is something you want from Tracen, why not seek out Fumino, Hana, Belno, hell even Okino? They all are much more deserving of your audience then I am.” I snap back, feeling myself getting exacerbated.
Every time my plight becomes the center of conversation, the knife twists deeper and deeper, so why must they torment me so?
The Goddesses each take turns looking at one another, passing along a silent agreement before turning their attention back to me.
The blue goddess speaks first, her form growing in radiance as she speaks. “The ties that hold us to all those who seek our guidance are strong, and when you prayed for our support we saw a glimpse of the traits you possess.”
“Empathy, you wish to shield away from others to spare them the suffering from witnessing your current state.”
“Strength, you have exhausted all your options, yet still push forward with the desire to persevere.” the golden goddess adds, her golden silhouette highlighting the turf around her, brighter than before.
“Passion, your love for racing brought you to the upper-echelon of the sport, but you want to go even further, don’t you?” the crimson goddess asks bubbly, her figure pulsating a deep, vivid red.
The three pause, letting their words echo in the night. A breeze slowly begins to stir, the first sensation I’ve felt since I woke up here. Despite their words meaning to inspire, I feel my head subconsciously shaking, refusing to believe in their words.
“You will not fully grasp these words yet, nor do you have to believe in them right now. Still, there is one more reason we stand before you now.” The blue goddess states, gesturing towards her crimson counterpart.
“It’s the belief in fate that has made you convince yourself that you are no longer the protagonist of your own story. You kept running away for so long, you never had time to consider that which you’ve left behind. You’ve forgotten what makes you, you.”
Her words cut deep. That same stir from before pulls at my heart.
Standing tall, the golden goddess further adds to my pain. “You believed that you had time, and you could outrun fate. But you could fill hundreds of racetracks with those who believed that they had more time.”
The knife twists. I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to hear their words, but something deep inside tells me to continue listening.
A soft touch on my shoulder forces my eyes to open, landing on the translucent blue hand that lay tenderly on it. The warmth is a gentle comfort, grounding me in that moment. The blue goddess now stands in front of me, her somber eyes reflecting my own back to me.
“Don’t take our words as a means of kicking you down, we would never subject you to such cruelty. We uplift all who come to us, whenever called upon. And sometimes one needs an outside perspective to open doors to truths that have long been locked away.”
The crimson goddess strides over to my side with a bounce in her step. “Absolutely! You don’t have to shoulder that burden alone. That’s why you came to us, and that’s why we’ve come to help!”
I look past her, into the starry sky in the distance. I never imagined I would curry the favor of the Three Goddesses themselves, and they seem to believe in me when I’ve lost belief in myself. So why would I ever refuse this gift, no matter how miniscule or grand it turns out to be?
I sigh. Not a long and tired sigh I’ve mastered over the past few months, but quick, the kind of the sigh you take before taking a leap of faith. Which, I suppose, I technically was about to do if any suspicion of mine about this gift was correct.
“What must I do?” The question escapes my lips, quieter than I intended.
The blue goddess tilts her head, not inquisitively but amused with my answer.
“All you must do is choose to accept our gift. You desire for more time, to escape from your twisted fate all together,” she says, leaning in closer. “Your story doesn't have to end here.”
Those words. So simple, they shouldn’t mean much to most people. Yet to me, it meant the world. A warmth creeping behind my eyes is quickly blinked away.
“You know…It’s been so long I almost forgot what it’s like to have hope in the future.” The truth is squeezed out of me and laid forth at the feet of the Goddesses.
The looks of acknowledgement from the three tell me that the door to the truth I’ve shied away from has finally been opened. I always had hope, but in the depths of melancholy it was so dark I could never see it. It was just always there, continuing to guide my hand.
The golden goddess takes a step towards me, joining the others. “You have always found room for hope in your heart. Always held on to the lasting remnants of strength to persevere. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have arrived where you are now.”
The blue goddess nods. “Which brings you to the choice laid before you. Will you accept our gift?” The question is framed in a manner that suggests they already know the answer I’m about to give.
It’s too easy.
“Of course.” I say, voice shaky as I slowly regain my confidence. I bow low. “Thank you for bestowing your gift upon me, I will cherish it for as long as I live.”
The three pairs of eyes on me shimmer ever-brighter, the same way the stars ignited when I prayed in front of their statue in the courtyard. The wind picks up slowly, growing more and more in strength around the field, the blades of turf beginning to flutter. The blue goddess chuckles to herself.
“I’m glad. It is time that we bid you farewell then.”
The wind further picks up, my hair blowing across my face in tangled strands. Her hand finds my chest, pushing me back.
“It is time you wake up.”
Where I should’ve continued to feel the turf beneath my feet, instead I feel nothing but air. My eyes widen as I’m further pushed back.
“Wake up!”
I fall backwards. The view before me mirroring that which I saw before the fountain when I made my wish: three goddesses standing in all their reverence beneath a starry sky.
“Wake up!”
I continue to fall farther and farther, any sound that attempts to escape me coming out as a muted scream.
High above back on the turf, the Three Goddesses stand together. Between them, one final statement, the words never reaching the one soul who was meant to hear it.
“We can’t wait to see how you run.”