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."
The stands shook under the weight of the crowd's roar. The metal railings rattled as people leaned forward, shouting with all their strength, their voices crashing together into one overwhelming sound. Names of favorites were screamed into the air, only to be swallowed by the next wave of cheers. Hands pounded against the barriers, the clanging echo mixing with the steady rhythm of hooves on the track, a sound nearly buried under the noise above. The air was hot and heavy, every breath filled with dust and the press of thousands packed tight together. The crowd moved as one, swaying and surging, chants breaking out in bursts before falling back into the roar. Above it all, an old man's voice cut through the chaos, rough but strong, calling each stride with sharp energy, his words pushing the excitement higher as the race drove on.
[800 meters left]
"Eight hundred to go! Cahaya Lilin Sumbar still in front, Cahaya Lilin Sumbar pushing hard, but Djohar Manik is moving closer, her strides eating the ground, the pressure is coming fast!"
[600 meters left]
"Cahaya Lilin Sumbar on the inside rail, Cahaya Lilin Sumbar still fighting but Djohar Manik now draws level! Side by side! The crowd is roaring, Djohar Manik pressing harder, harder, she will not stop!"
[400 meters left / entering last corner]
"Here they come to the last corner, Djohar Manik surges! She takes the lead! Djohar Manik at the front now, her acceleration explosive, Cahaya Lilin Sumbar fading behind! Djohar Manik clears the corner first, the crowd explodes!"
[200 meters left / final stretch]
"Now the home stretch, Djohar Manik in full flight! She opens the gap, one length! two lengths! three, four lengths clear! Cahaya Lilin Sumbar are spent! But look, Winona Eclipse breaks from the pack, Winona Eclipse charging late, chasing, chasing hard, but the distance is too much!"
[Finish Line]
"Djohar Manik storms across the line! Djohar Manik wins the Indonesian Derby 2014! Four lengths ahead, a commanding performance! The crowd erupts, the history books are written, Djohar Manik, she becomes the second Triple Crown winner in Indonesian horse racing history!"
It was a hot, humid day, the kind where the air clung stubbornly to my skin, thick and unyielding. In the living room, the faint hum of the old ceiling fan did little to ease the heaviness pressing down on me. From the television, the announcer's voice burst through the static, sharp and electric, carrying the weight of history with every word. I sat perched in front of the screen, short black hair sticking to my forehead, the sweat only making me shift more restlessly. Still, my eyes stayed fixed on the glow, brimming with a hope that somehow cut through the sweltering heat.
The sound carried an energy that rattled through the walls, a charge of victory that lit up the room in ways the dim glow of the television never could. The crowd's roar poured from the speakers, swelling until it felt as though the living room itself was shaking. My heart leapt with it, and I couldn't stay still. I shot up from my seat, my hands breaking free from their tight clasp, my light blue eyes wide and glimmering, locked on the screen without ever daring to look away.
"She did it! She did it, yaaay!"
I bounced up and down with unrestrained energy, my short black hair bobbing wildly with each jump, catching the light in quick flashes as it swayed. Every movement radiated the thrill coursing through me, my small frame trembling as though it couldn’t contain the flood of happiness surging within. It felt as if every beat of my heart had leapt onto the racetrack itself, racing stride for stride alongside Djohar Manik, carried forward by the pounding rhythm of victory.
"I knew it I knew it I knew it, so fast so cool!! No one can beat her no one no one no one!! She's the strongest bravest prettiest ever ever ever!!"
Then suddenly, cutting sharply through the crackle of the television and the thunder of cheers, a loud yell rang out from the other room. It was deliberate, quick, and carried with it an unmistakable weight of authority, the kind that snapped the air still in an instant. The sound struck like a reprimand, sharp and unyielding, the tone of a mother's voice that needed no repetition to be understood.
"KING ARGENTIN! Keep it down, will you! Do you want the whole neighborhood to think we're raising a herd of elephants?! You're shaking the house with your yelling again! SIT DOWN before I glue you to that couch!"
After hearing that, I felt a sudden shiver crawl down my spine, the joyous energy in my body halting all at once. A startled little eek slipped out of me sharp, fleeting betraying the fear that gripped me in that instant. I dropped back onto the couch in a clumsy rush, then straightened up into an exaggeratedly delicate posture, hands folded neatly in my lap and back stiff as though I were some prim maiden caught misbehaving. My wide eyes, still glistening with excitement only moments before, flicked nervously toward the television. On the screen, Djohar Manik stood tall in the winner’s circle, waving proudly to the roaring audience. For one fleeting instant her hand shifted, pointing outward, as though breaking through the barrier of the screen itself. The gesture froze me in place, my breath catching as if the moment were meant for me alone. The glow of the broadcast washed across my face, and in the reflection of my light blue irises the wavering fear gave way to a new spark. It shone with confidence, blazing as brightly as the name I had just heard repeated again and again. Slowly, my lips curled into a smile wide, unshaken, filled with fire before I leaned closer, my voice rising in a declaration laced with the utmost certainty, as though the dream now belonged to me.
"One day that's gonna be me, I'll run faster and faster and everyone will cheer my name. I promise, I promise!"
With that promise sealed deep within my heart, I lifted my chin, gazing upward as though my eyes could pierce the ceiling and reach the heavens themselves. My small hand rose with conviction, index finger pointed straight to the sky, a gesture that carried the weight of my dream. In my mind’s eye, I could already see it, myself thundering down the final stretch, the crowd roaring, the vision of victory painted in golden light as I claimed the elusive Triple Crown.
But the moment shattered in an instant, broken by the sharp, commanding yell of my mother cutting through the air, demanding if I had finished my chores. The fire in my eyes flickered into panic as reality struck. With a flustered squeak, I scrambled off the couch, my legs kicking into motion as I darted from the room. The grand vision of glory dissolved into the hurried patter of my feet, scurrying to make up for what I had forgotten in my excitement.