The moment those words fell—
the entire room was struck dumb!!!
No one—absolutely no one—had expected it…!
Fuka Shirayuki, who'd just won a G3 race, actually dared to say something that outrageous!
She straight-up started "financing" next year's G1 Triple Crown on credit!
If a random passerby walked in and saw this scene, they'd probably think this girl had just won the Arima Kinen—where monsters gather!
So what, you're a top-tier ace now?
You're a top-tier ace!?
Th-this-this…
Even the reporters down below—people who'd seen every kind of chaos imaginable—nearly lost the ability to speak.
They'd long since maxed out the "smooth things over" skill tree.
But right now, they were still lost—lost over what to say, what expression to wear, how to respond.
And the biggest question was:
Does Fuka Shirayuki's credit score even support this kind of loan?
That doubt appeared in everyone's mind.
Is she messing with us?
Is she even going to be able to scan a shared bike tomorrow when she goes out?
The answer could only be handed over to time.
In the audience, Symboli Rudolf wore an expression of pure shock.
She stared at the girl—at the utterly unrestrained "wildness" Fuka Shirayuki was showing right now.
Just sitting there—
she radiated a brightness that eroded outward, devouring the room, like she was born to be a superstar.
A STAR.
The competitive world needs characters like this.
But if her strength and results didn't match her words…
then that declaration would turn into a poisonous flower—
and it would bloom back at her a hundredfold.
The backlash would be pressure beyond imagination.
Rudolf pressed her temple, a headache blooming, trying to figure out how to patch this mess for her.
Ever since Fuka Shirayuki crashed into the Emperor's life, Rudolf had been suffering constant migraines.
Does she even know what she's saying?
Does she even understand how far she is from a G1 champion?
"...Haa." Rudolf rubbed her face.
All she could do was console herself with pure mental gymnastics:
At least all of this year's races were already over.
Next was basically the off-season.
The earliest big ones would be April—the Oka Sho, the Satsuki Sho.
Time-wise, maybe by then she really could train Fuka Shirayuki into a G1-level horse girl.
She had talent.
She had a win-hunger bigger than anyone's.
And during this gap she probably couldn't sneak into races anyway—
perfect time to patch her fundamentals.
Once Rudolf thought it through—
a smile bloomed again.
Even if this junior was the exact kind of trouble that never let you rest…
you still had to admit it: she had talent.
If she could be polished, she'd become a powerful, dazzling horse girl one day.
Rudolf had picked up another treasure.
Symboli Rudolf trying not to laugh.jpg
Inventor: The Emperor — Symboli Rudolf
Invention: Cinderella — Fuka Shirayuki!!!
…
Fuka Shirayuki listened as waves of doubt surged through the hall.
Some chose to believe.
Some chose to question.
The answers fractured into a hundred different arguments.
But one thing was already certain:
Tomorrow's newspaper headline had basically written itself—
Fuka Shirayuki's "loaned Triple Crown" declaration.
As the one who'd created this circus, the girl would start tomorrow under countless unexpected gazes.
Fuka Shirayuki sat there quietly, watching the world react to her words.
The skeptical noise slowly faded from her ears—
replaced by something else.
A pounding heartbeat.
A trembling.
And in that sound, the beautiful dreams inside her unfurled again like a painted scroll spreading open before her eyes.
She could feel it clearly now—
that heartbeat was getting louder.
Thump!
Solid. Forceful.
Horse girls were creatures born to chase victory.
So deep inside her, emotions she could no longer suppress spilled outward—
a hunger to see that scene,
to make the beautiful story in her heart real,
to turn her sister's world into a rainbow-colored IMAX.
So—
right now, the girl gently pressed her fingertips to her chest.
Feeling the joy bursting inside her.
"Just like I thought…" she lowered her head slightly, the corner of her mouth rising without her noticing.
For once—
she wore a smile from the depths of her lungs: heartbreakingly beautiful, almost tragic.
Murmuring to herself, she thought—
You want to stand on that stage too, don't you?
You want to see me make it real, don't you?
Her emotions—her mental state—shifted in a subtle, dangerous way.
But—
Fuka Shirayuki had forgotten she was still sitting in front of a microphone.
She hadn't even left the venue yet.
And the words she was speaking would travel through that mic—
to the entire hall.
…
Hearing her murmurs, the once-noisy room dropped into a deathly silence.
All eyes snapped back to Fuka Shirayuki.
Including a completely baffled Symboli Rudolf.
"I understand your resolve!"
"Then let us shine brighter than the stars!!!"
Fuka Shirayuki smiled blissfully.
"Court dismissed!!!"
Then she waved her hand grandly and stood up without another word—
and just like that, she walked off the interview stage.
Symboli Rudolf: "???"
The Emperor whipped her head around—
to look at Tazuna beside her.
The green demon: "...Huh?" she hesitated.
What is happening?
Rudolf asked, "Do you know what's wrong with Fuka Shirayuki?"
Tazuna only shook her head, silent.
Rudolf silently clenched her fist.
If the reporters still couldn't tell what was off—
the Emperor had already sniffed out something deeply wrong.
Like the debut race before.
When Fuka Shirayuki beat Tokai Teio—
after she came down from the winner's stage, she'd stood backstage and cried.
Back then, Rudolf had assumed those tears were just from excitement.
So what was this, now?
Rudolf considered whether she should dig up everything about Fuka Shirayuki.
No shortage of "cat coins," after all—
come on, let's talk about "pulling down the underwear" and exposing the truth.
The reporters whispered in the venue, staring at this girl whose flamboyance rivaled Gold Ship—no, Gold Artisan—
thinking: So the Artisan finally met someone who can match her!
Of course—
they didn't mean strength.
With only a G3 trophy, Fuka Shirayuki couldn't possibly be compared to the Classic Triple Crown queen, Gold Artisan.
But personality?
These two were practically identical.
Holy hell.
What Fuka did on stage had already been misunderstood as "quirky cute-girl personality."
Now everyone just wanted to see:
Between Gold Artisan and Fuka Shirayuki—
who could "act cool" harder?
Reporters, audience—everyone—couldn't imagine that this wasn't "personality" at all…
but something closer to a mental illness.
…
Backstage, Fuka Shirayuki returned, her emotions still refusing to settle.
She belatedly realized—hesitantly—
this might be another episode.
She covered her face, thinking:
When is this ever going to end!?
Bursting into tears in front of the media over and over—how embarrassing.
The audience weren't perverts.
They weren't the type to see a pretty girl cry and spam "PROTECT" and "BABY DON'T CRY" like some undead Qing-dynasty drought demon.
Ultimate zombie this, ultimate zombie that—
"Shirayuki's here! Shirayuki's huge!"
"I'm telling you, Shirayuki won't just be Japan's number one—she'll go to Dubai, visit the Arc de Triomphe, and become the world's number one horse girl!"
Fuka Shirayuki felt conflicted.
Should she go to the hospital?
With her condition…
would it get to the point where, after winning a race, she'd make her opponents cry—then she'd start crying along with them?
That'd be the ultimate humiliation!
But backstage, there was someone she hadn't expected.
"Big sister."
Fuka Chiori was waiting there.
Her middle-school sister rose onto her toes slightly, arms open wide, standing still.
Worry and fear swirled in her eyes.
"Hold me," she said.
"Big sister… hug me."
…
Fuka Shirayuki fell silent for a moment.
Then: "Hug."
She gently pulled her sister into her arms.
That lemon-scented shampoo washed over her again—
and with it came a warmth and safety she hadn't felt in a long time.
Chiori buried her face into her sister's shoulder, voice soft—
but trembling, almost on the verge of tears.
"Big sister… I've always been here…"
"I don't want you to cry,"
"because if I see you cry, I'll cry too."
"I know," Chiori lifted her head slightly. "I know you're depressed, big sister. Let's get treatment."
"No matter which hospital we go to, I'll go with you. We'll find a hospital that can make you better."
"Because I love you, big sister."
"Next time… don't hide it from me, okay?"
Her voice carried a pleading insistence.
"To me, you're the best big sister."
…
In the three days after the Challenge Cup ended, people weren't only talking about her "financed Triple Crown" declaration.
They were also shouting:
"Holy crap! This girl acts cooler than Gold Artisan!"
"Fuka Shirayuki—what are you even saying!?"
"Stage and brilliance? Is there a Revue Starlight here too? Hohoho, that's dramatic—wakari-masu!"
And above all—
people couldn't stop replaying Fuka Shirayuki's murmurs during the interview.
The backstage staff hadn't even processed it before Fuka had already chained together a perfectly smooth "self-talk combo."
Because the interview had been live.
A flamboyant competitor was born to shine beneath the spotlight.
And strangely enough—
the discussion about her muttering became even bigger than the discussion about her loaned declaration.
After winning the Challenge Cup, her performance made her fanbase explode.
And as the fans grew—
people began digging into her "growth history," hoping to feel closer to their idol.
They dug.
And dug.
And found nothing.
Fuka Shirayuki was a mystery—like fog that never cleared.
Like a horse girl who'd stepped out of a stone.
Some fans went back two months and dug up old records.
Where did she even come from?
They pulled out those part-time job photos from back then—
Fuka Shirayuki working as a convenience store clerk.
Mask on. Uniform on.
Only her blue-green eyes visible above the mask—
empty of emotion, unfocused, as if everything had dissolved into pure black.
"So… did she quit being a convenience store clerk and become a horse girl?"
"Was beating Tokai Teio in her debut race her only chance in life?"
"If she couldn't win, would she have to go home and work again…?"
"Betting everything on it—Tokai Teio, I respect you as a worthy opponent… but I have a reason I cannot lose that's even stronger than yours!!!"
"I feel inexplicably crushed… I can't imagine how much pressure she carried stepping onto that track."
Then came another post—
an anonymous user claiming to be a JRA staffer who'd helped with race operations.
They said—
after the debut race, Fuka Shirayuki had cried backstage.
No photos.
But it wasn't just one person saying it.
It wasn't smoke without fire.
People hungry for the truth immediately rewatched the debut race winner-stage footage.
And sure enough—
before she even stepped down from the stage, her eyes were already full of glittering tears.
Everyone fell silent again.
Maybe…
those jokes couldn't describe Fuka Shirayuki's past at all.
Maybe what she carried…
was heavier than anyone imagined.
From those scattered fragments stitched together—
people began to understand just how bad her situation might have been.
"So tragic… this is truly tragic."
"@Tracen Academy"
"@JRA"
Even the Lady could see the online posts.
Without knowing why—
a painful, tightening ache spread through her chest.
To be honest, the Lady didn't even understand why she felt sad.
She'd always believed in one doctrine: strength above all.
The weak being eliminated because they lacked strength—that was simply fate.
But now, doubts began to rise.
Is this really right?
Am I hurting her?
Even if she still couldn't confirm that girl was Fuka Shirayuki—
every emotion she felt now was tied to Fuka Shirayuki.
She wanted to make it up to her.
Guilt—quiet and heavy—appeared in her heart.
And right then—
Kyokuhou called.
"Donna."
"Tell me the truth—when did you ever beat Fuka Shirayuki!?"
The Lady stammered, "I… I…"
Kyokuhou continued, expression blank:
"I found the person you were looking for."
"But right now, I don't want to tell you."
Then she added:
"Are you two actually getting divorced?"
"You've been divorced for a long time, right?" Kyokuhou rubbed her chin. "In that case… do I have a chance now?"
The Lady exploded, furious:
"You're not allowed!!! She's mine!!!"
"Holy crap—are you seriously being possessive now? Send her over!"
Kyokuhou gasped in amazement. "Didn't you already break the engagement? How are you using a Qing-dynasty sword to behead a modern official!?"
All that sadness.
All that sympathy.
Even without a proper interview, a full profile—
some enthusiastic netizens still stitched together a timeline for her.
A story of going from part-time worker to pro horse girl.
It made passersby fall silent.
Maybe they didn't have the patience for a ten-minute video—
but the moment they saw the first second of the story, they were hooked.
By the time they came back to themselves—
they were close to being moved to tears.
"I can't imagine what kind of inspirational story this is…!"
"A girl carrying responsibility—become a god! Today!"
"If she can't win a G1, then she can't turn her past into tears that bloom into results. I truly hope she fulfills what she promised."
"@JRA, where's the interview!? Where's the story!? Where's the full account!? Do something!!!"
Until—
someone posted a photo of "running into" Fuka Shirayuki at a hospital.
They hesitated and said:
"Fuka Shirayuki might… have a mental illness? I ran into her when I was seeing a doctor."
And with that—
public opinion detonated completely.
…
At JRA headquarters, people had been hesitating over whether to produce a documentary about Fuka Shirayuki.
It wasn't that they didn't want to.
It was just—
she'd only won a debut race. By "qualification," she still wasn't enough.
Even with the manager begging, upper management refused.
Until today.
The manager came to work angry again.
He thought:
Even if JRA won't make a documentary, I'll do it myself.
I'll buy the filming gear, hire a photographer, and bring the best crew to visit Fuka Shirayuki.
If you won't do it—then I will!
All-in on the thing called wisdom!!!
The manager believed:
A documentary about Fuka Shirayuki would explode, guaranteed.
And now she'd just won the Challenge Cup—
heat? she had heat.
skill? she had skill.
beauty? she had beauty.
topics? she had topics.
Thinking that, he pushed open his boss's door, face stiff.
"I'm here to submit my resignation…"
…
His boss jolted upright.
"Perfect timing!"
Then he pointed inside the room.
"This is the best documentary film crew I hired for you!"
Then he pointed at the brand-new equipment stacked nearby.
"And this is the gear I bought for you—top of the line."
"A few things haven't arrived yet, but it's fine. At the latest, you'll start shooting tomorrow."
"I believe Fuka Shirayuki will become a future legend!"
The manager froze.
A face change!?
Since when???
Just because of the public storm these past few days—
even his boss, after reading the story, had been wiping away tears with bathroom tissue.
How he came out, don't ask.
This was a superstar opening!!!
His boss looked at him with admiration, thinking:
This guy's instincts were that ahead of the curve?
Patting the manager's shoulder, he said:
"Interview! We must interview!!!"
"Make me the best documentary and the best story!!!"
Bring the story of the blossoming young flower to the world!!!
And when the world's eyes are finally on her—
let her bloom wildly, completely, without restraint!!!
....
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