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

Going home, or rather, returning to the Mejiro household?

Clearly, Mejiro Ardan had hesitated, deliberately altering what she'd been about to say, using a somewhat more distant phrasing.

But did Twilight Song care about these nuances?

She just nodded quietly, trailing behind the pale blue-haired Uma Musume.

As she settled into the back seat of the car, sinking softly into the plush leather upholstery, the scenery outside the window began sliding swiftly backward. Only then did Twilight Song experience a sudden sense of unreality.

Her former world—the dull, weary life of a corporate drone—was already long gone. It faded rapidly, exactly like the retreating scenery outside, vanishing completely from her life.

Wasn't transmigration actually a blessing?

At least now she was a beautiful young lady, free to spend what little life remained doing whatever she pleased.

How wonderful, how perfect.

Except, as a corporate drone, she'd at least had another decade or so. As a young lady, she now had just a year—maybe even less.

Truly hopeless.

Fear of death was something she thought she'd handled rationally enough, and rightly so.

Because facing death was always a first for anyone, the fear of the unknown was completely justified.

Perhaps it wasn't death itself she feared, but rather what awaited beyond it—the uncertainty, the mystery.

When she'd still had a good ten years ahead of her, it had been easy enough to soothe and deceive herself by focusing on youth. But now?

Now, when the countdown to her demise hung starkly above her head like a polished blade, who wouldn't feel terrified?

Anyone who didn't was practically a saint.

Twilight Song gazed out the window, unaware that her fluffy white ears had slowly drooped.

Mejiro Ardan saw all of this clearly, but could only quietly watch.

Twilight Song—the filly who'd suddenly moved into Mejiro Manor one week ago. Everyone had greeted her warmly, yet she'd always remained quiet, withdrawn, and rarely ventured out except for training sessions.

Only today had Mejiro Ardan heard her speak clearly for the first time.

Of course, that was precisely why she was here now. Nobody felt comfortable letting this withdrawn little filly face her debut alone.

Yet today, Twilight Song had unexpectedly revealed a softer side…

A hesitant, contradictory side—one that seemed to yearn for someone to approach her, yet retreated the moment someone tried.

And now, those drooping ears...

Uma Musume weren't prone to folded-ear syndromes, so this was clearly a sign of low spirits. But why?

Ardan didn't know, nor did she dare press too hard. Twilight Song clearly didn't welcome overly enthusiastic concern. Therefore…

Ardan thought it would be enough just to stay quietly by her side. Surely, she'd open up eventually.

It would be fine to wait until then.

Right now, Twilight Song could sense Ardan's gaze fixed upon her—intense, bright, piercingly red-hot, like the eyes of an audience scrutinizing her every move on the track.

But the young filly, still trapped in anxiety about her impending death, felt almost crushed beneath endless, unanswered speculation about the unknown future.

She desperately wanted to shake these thoughts away, to end her turmoil here.

But fear and emotion came in waves, surging wildly without pause, unable to be halted just because she willed it.

Fighting futilely, Twilight Song squeezed her eyes shut, silently repeating her desperate mantra:

Stop thinking. Don't think at all. It's not the right time yet.

You must try. You must fight. You must win.

Death? A year left to live?

In a year, won't I become immortalized in the history of Uma Musume?

She comforted herself repeatedly this way until, to Ardan's surprise, her ears gradually lifted back to their normal position. Soon after, her breathing softened into a gentle rhythm.

Had she fallen asleep?

The pale blue-haired Uma Musume blinked in mild astonishment. But then, slowly, Ardan shifted closer.

Shortly after, she felt a warm, gentle weight press onto her shoulder.

She looks adorable asleep. Why does she always seem so cold and serious when awake…?

Mejiro Ardan observed Twilight Song's sleeping face curiously, wondering what kind of dreams she was having.

Of course, that was merely curiosity.

She couldn't possibly know the unexpectedly sweet dream behind Twilight Song's peaceful brows.

Within the dream, a carefree silver-haired filly ran freely through a sunlit campus and grassy fields, surrounded by cute Uma Musume friends in Tracen Academy.

Days passed gently and sweetly. Spring gave way to a mild summer, autumn leaves stayed green, and winter brought only a gentle snowfall.

Twilight Song occasionally felt she'd forgotten something important—but the feeling passed quickly. Soon, she stopped caring altogether.

How long had passed? She didn't know. But one day, while wandering an unfamiliar street, darkness suddenly overtook her vision.

"Hey, let's grab this reality-escaping runaway already."

"I-I'm not sure that's right…"

"Ah, come on, it's fine! Our team needs a strong filly anyway. She'll be happy."

That voice… Gold Ship?

"Besides, how else can we take her away from those monstrous heavyweights around her?"

"After all, isn't she just avoiding reality? Isn't that right, short-lived Miss Twilight Song?"

A strong, solid shoulder pressed firmly into her stomach, carrying her. Honestly, even a few jostles were enough to make her head spin.

And just as the sounds filtered through the sack—at least, she assumed it was a sack—a strange sensation rose abruptly from her chest.

A violent shudder ran through her throat, followed immediately by a sickeningly sweet metallic taste.

Even half-conscious in her dream, Twilight Song instinctively forced her hand upwards, desperately pressing her palm against her lips.

Ugh… How do I describe this sensation?

It was probably like dreaming that you'd suddenly teleported into a bathroom and really needed to go…

If she actually released everything here, her career as an Uma Musume would end immediately upon waking!

Twilight Song clenched her teeth fiercely, hands pressed tightly over her mouth, doubling over inwardly as she awoke.

Her sudden movements visibly startled Mejiro Ardan, but being an elite Mejiro, Ardan swiftly recovered her composure.

"Ruka? Are you alright? Do you need a bag?"

A bag? To spit up blood into? Is she serious?

Twilight Song frantically shook her head.

This wasn't mere reluctance or stubborn silence this time—

She genuinely couldn't speak.