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"...from the outside, it’s Toho Dream! Toho Dream! T.M. Opera O misses her ninth consecutive win, T.M. Opera O has finally been defeated..."
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Meisho Doto wobbled nervously through the vast tunnel system, the crowds echoing far behind her.
"Ohhhh... Opera O-san... where are you..."
Normally, T.M. Opera O would conclude each race with a grandiose speech about how each racer's effort would add to the legendary tapestry of the Centurial Overlord's accomplishments. But this time, Doto could only stare as Toho Dream overtook T.M. Opera O on the final stretch. Doto could only stare as Opera O's eight race winning streak was shattered at the Sankei Ōsaka Hai. Doto could only stare as Opera's face contorted into shock, then fear, then...
No final address, no grandstanding for the fans, barely even a whispered commendation to her fellow umamusume as they basked in the atmosphere of a race well run. Instead, she had turned and scampered off the racetrack, away from the radiant afternoon light and into the shadows of the underpass.
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Doto eventually found her way around the racecourse to Opera's changing room. She found the door left ajar, revealing only darkness within. She cautiously called out:
"Opera O-san...? Are you there...?"
A muted rustling responded from beyond the doorway, inviting Doto to peer inside. There, she saw Opera, standing motionless in the centre of the room. Still clad in her G2 racing garb, the orange-haired umamusume stared listlessly into the void that surrounded her.
"T-there you are, Opera O-san, you ran off so quickly…"
No response.
"...Opera O-san? Are you... okay...?" Doto stepped into the doorway, uncertain.
"I lost, Doto." Opera's voice, unlike her name would suggest, was void of any bravado, but was instead low, subdued, a shadow of her former self. "How can I possibly be okay, now that I have lost?"
"Opera O-san..."
Doto couldn't stand to see her like this. Her friend, her rival... T.M. Opera O was always a reliable source of courage and support, able to tame the whirling tempest of anxiety that was Meisho Doto. So to see her like this, all but broken...
"The Centurial Overlord is meant to be an idol, a paragon, a... a shining beacon, lighting the way through the darkness. Without that light… I’m nothing."
Maybe, Doto thought, now it was her turn to be that light, to be there for Opera.
"B-but… you're still the Centurial Overlord to me..." Doto carefully crept through the doorway.
"No… I am not worthy of that title anymore…" Opera muttered, casting her gaze downward.
Nevertheless, Doto continued, taking one wavering but unnoticed step towards her sullen companion.
"It d-doesn't matter if you lost today... I've raced against you so much, a-and you've beaten me every single time..."
A second step, more confident. Doto had closed half the distance between them.
"And every time, y-your light is what inspires me to keep going..."
Another step, even stronger. Opera's ear twitched.
"So, Opera O-san, you have to keep going... "
Just one more step.
"Because, as your rival, I will defeat you myself."
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Opera whirled around at the sudden declaration, only to find Doto stood in front of her, much closer than just a moment ago. Doto's normally slouched posture was replaced by a firm, taller stance that emulated the confidence and strength of a certain umamusume. Doto's usually docile eyes were now focused into a violet glare of resolve, to which Opera had to look slightly upward to meet her gaze.
Opera blinked.
She hadn't realised just how strong Doto had become. By the end of every race, she was always at the front, her subjects far behind her. Opera had told herself that she had to keep looking ahead, to inspire those behind her to continue running onwards. But not once, had she looked back to her most loyal subject.
Opera O stared at her rival.
Meisho Doto, her ever faithful liege. Ever since their first meeting, the timid umamusume had always stuck by her side. Through training sessions, mock races, even during her recovery and leisure, Doto was there, studying and observing and supporting her. And now, at perhaps her lowest moment...
T.M. Opera O took a long, deep breath, and closed her eyes.
Meisho Doto had challenged her, and a challenge was something that T.M. Opera O could not, no, must not back down from. Now, she finally understood. If but one umamusume still looked up to her, still had the lofty goal of defeating her, it was her duty to see it through and become that shining beacon of radiance.
The Centurial Overlord awakened.
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"HAAAH HA HA HA HAH!!"
The stunning cry of the Centurial Overlord struck Meisho Doto by surprise, sending her scrambling a couple of steps backward.
"Ahh, my sweet Doto, you have opened my eyes!" T.M. Opera O sung. She planted one hand to her chest, stretching the other towards her rival. "It is but natural that the Centurial Overlord shall stumble! For it is the culmination of all my loyal subjects' efforts, that results in the surpassing of limits untold!"
"U-uhm... yes! Opera O-san!" Doto squeaked.
"Now come! Our next stage awaits!"
The Centurial Overlord strode past Doto, towards the faint light emanating from beyond the changing room door. Doto watched as T.M. Opera O, now reinvigorated, stepped beyond the darkness and into the now-evening light that bathed the underpass. Doto quietly sighed, just glad to see her back to her regular self. However, just before she disappeared from view, Opera paused.
"...and thank you, Doto. For everything."
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It was another sunny day, with clouds drifting just before the horizon. The Centurial Overlord stood at the entrance to the racetrack, accompanied by her most loyal friend, her fiercest rival.
"Doto. The Takarazuka Kinen awaits. Are you prepared for my greatest performance yet?"
The yet-unrealised Centurial Tempest turned calmly to her mutual adversary, her faithful partner.
"No, Opera O-san. Today, you'll be watching my performance."
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