Only One Year Left—I'll Become a Legendary Uma Musume!

July 22nd, Sunny.

It's so strange—yesterday it poured so heavily, yet today the sun shines brightly again. But thinking too much about British weather never leads to anything useful…

Anyway, I really hate heavy tracks. No matter what, I don't want to run on one again.

My legs get heavy, the rain feels icy on my skin, and in the end, it feels like a venomous snake is watching me from the shadows, making my whole body tense up.

But maybe that's just my imagination, right…? Anyway, yesterday was the first time I got to go out alone with Ramonu-nee. Two people in a foreign country—doesn't that count as a date?

I'm kidding. Sorry, Ramonu-nee, that's all I can say—sorry. By the way, I secretly kept that photo and sent it to get printed. I asked the shop to deliver it to Mejiro Manor in November, so please remember to accept the package.

Also, there's the computer.

In the last folder at the bottom of the D-drive, I've recorded a few songs. Well, don't laugh at how badly I sing; I've never learned properly. Just consider it my personal victory stage, one this world will never get to see. Listen to it whenever you miss me—then it'll feel like I'm right there beside you.

Good night,

Your loving Twilight Song.

...

Twilight Song double-checked the audio recordings on her computer for the last time, ensuring everything sounded as she intended, then turned off the computer and lay back on the bed.

Honestly, given the limitations of current technology, the sound quality of these recordings was far from ideal. Ignoring the loud background noise, you could at best recognize it was her voice singing.

But this was the best she could manage. She'd never had the nerve to borrow a professional recording studio anyway—

Her singing was just that terrible.

That was also why she'd picked only a handful of songs besides basic ones like birthday and Christmas tunes.

So, what exactly did she hope to achieve with these recordings? Perhaps it was just her way of soothing the guilt in her heart.

She knew Ramonu's feelings for her had evolved beyond simple care for a sister who'd appeared unexpectedly. At the very least, it was the kind of genuine affection one might have for a true younger sister.

Yet, the deeper Ramonu's affection became, the harder it was for Twilight Song to bear—because, in the end, she had no way or chance to reciprocate those feelings.

A bitter taste rose in her throat, but before it overwhelmed her, Twilight Song curled tightly beneath the covers.

She didn't want to think about anything anymore. Just close her eyes and sleep.

She didn't have the luxury of overthinking things, especially since…

It was already impossible for her to claim Japan's Triple Crown.

The date of the Kikuka Sho was beyond her remaining lifespan…

When she thought about it carefully, perhaps becoming the greatest "phantom legend" in history was her destiny.

With that thought, the little filly drifted slowly into sleep.

...

She had a strange dream.

In that dream, the world after her death had changed drastically. No, rather, it was Mejiro Manor that had changed.

Though still a family that cared deeply for one another, the atmosphere had grown noticeably colder. What shocked Twilight Song most profoundly was Mejiro McQueen.

The greedy little filly who loved sweets, the plump little horse who'd joyfully leap into her arms when happy—now she'd become quiet, withdrawn, never eating sweets, just mechanically taking her meals and training relentlessly. "Relentless" was an understatement; she trained like someone possessed, to the point where madness was a more fitting description.

Why did it become like this?

Even dreaming, Twilight Song desperately sought the reason, despite knowing the scene was absurdly unrealistic.

As soon as she asked the question, Mejiro McQueen turned slowly toward her, eyes empty and lifeless.

To catch up to you, Ruka-nee. Didn't you promise you'd watch me race?

Every single race.

Those who break promises must accept punishment, right?

"What the hell—?!"

Twilight Song jolted awake as she rolled off the bed, nausea overwhelming her as she staggered desperately toward the bathroom.

That dream had been too intense, so vivid that she felt like she was being dragged from her own coffin and interrogated.

Ugh, it nearly killed me!

The overwhelming vividness of the dream shook Twilight Song deeply, and the sickly-sweet feeling in her throat reignited the familiar urge to cough up blood. Thankfully, her body was quick to respond.

But Ardan, who'd just stepped through the door, nearly jumped out of her skin.

She had just entered the room when a pale shadow flashed past her, bolting into the bathroom.

Quickly realizing what was happening, she hurried after Twilight Song, carefully supporting her little sister through another painful episode.

But as the frail white-haired figure slowly regained composure, Mejiro Ardan felt a fresh wave of concern.

Had Twilight Song ever appeared this fragile before?

Ardan had witnessed episodes like this multiple times already. Strangely enough, Twilight Song usually recovered quickly, acting as though nothing happened afterward. But today was different.

Holding her gently, Ardan noticed Twilight Song's white hair hanging limply around her pale face. Her eyes weren't calm or clear like usual; instead, they appeared distant and dull. Her trembling hands hung weakly by her sides, only rising after several attempts to press against her temples.

Twilight Song was shockingly thin.

Though hailed as the newest racing legend, Ardan could clearly feel her ribs beneath the thin fabric of her dress.

"Are you okay, Ruka? Shouldn't you rest a bit more?"

Twilight Song weakly shook her head, leaning heavily on Ardan's shoulder, unconsciously pressing her cheek into her sister's comforting warmth.

"I'm fine. Just support me for a bit longer… I'm sorry, Ardan-nee."

"No apologies allowed," Ardan softly insisted. "We're accomplices, remember?"

Lately, Ardan seemed especially fond of emphasizing this shared secret. But Twilight Song didn't have the energy to linger on those words—she merely closed her eyes, struggling to soothe the relentless turmoil in her heart.

Ardan's intuition wasn't wrong; usually, even after vomiting blood, Twilight Song quickly bounced back. Yet this time, dizziness and weakness overwhelmed her, as if she'd been struck hard enough to shatter her.

But thankfully, finding Ardan's warmth eased the discomfort somewhat. Maybe this was just a one-time incident. Perhaps waiting it out would be enough. Revealing her true feelings now would only make Ardan worry more.

And Twilight Song felt completely unable to bear that kind of unconditional love and concern.

She simply didn't know how to accept or face it.