I watched all of them.
Japanese guides.
Chinese guides.
American guides.
Hours of videos.
Hours of spreadsheets.
Hours of people explaining inheritance routes, support card combinations, hidden mechanics, race scheduling, skill priority, and training optimization.
I watched successful clears.
I watched failed clears.
I watched challenge runners break down their thought process frame by frame.
I copied builds.
Copied strategies.
Copied training routes.
Copied everything.
And still failed.
I had none of the things they had.
My support deck wasn't maxed.
My inheritance wasn't optimal.
Most of my parent Uma weren't even close to S rank.
The entire setup was held together by stubbornness and wishful thinking.
And yet I kept trying.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Not because I thought I was good at the game.
If anything, I wanted proof that I wasn't.
Every challenge trend that appeared online seemed to have people clearing it eventually.
Every guide made things look simple.
Every video made success look inevitable.
Meanwhile I kept failing.
So I kept retrying.
Because if I quit, Maybe I really was bad.
And that thought scared me more than another failed run.
Another race loaded.
Another career.
Another attempt.
Haru Urara ran her heart out.
As always.
I watched the final stretch.
Watched her fight.
Watched her refuse to give up.
Watched her lose.
Again.
16th.
Retry.
Another career.
Another carefully planned training route.
Another set of events.
Another attempt to squeeze a little more out of impossible odds.
Arima Kinen.
16th.
Retry.
I changed the inheritance.
Changed the skill route.
Changed the training priorities.
The result barely changed.
16th.
Retry.
16th.
Retry.
Then 16th.
Then 16th.
Then 16th.
Slowly.
Painfully.
The wall started moving.
Not enough.
Never enough.
But moving.
Months passed.
Haru kept running.
I kept trying.
Neither of us reached the finish line we wanted.
Then finally,
A career appeared.
The stats lined up.
The training succeeded.
The skills rolled correctly.
The race loaded.
I leaned forward.
Haru accelerated.
The crowd roared.
The final stretch opened.
And this time…
I didn't think it was impossible.
I just ran it.
Haru held position through the middle pack.
Didn't overextend.
Didn't fall back too far.
Just enough.
Just barely.
Arima Kinen came.
The moment that always broke everything.
I didn't move.
I just stared.
16th place again.
Haru Urara stood there on the screen.
Smiling.
the careful smile.
the "trying not to be disappointed" smile.
My hands loosened.
I didn't even realize I had been gripping the phone that hard.
The exhaustion hit all at once.
Months of trying.
Months of losing.
Months of watching the same ending over and over again.
And now it just… stopped.
I leaned back in the chair.
The room felt too quiet.
The Season 3 clips were still playing on the monitor, but I wasn't watching them anymore.
My eyes were heavy.
I exhaled.
Long.
Slow.
My head tilted back.
And I whisphered "sorry haru, I failed you again." It was my fault, again probably. When the uma loses it's usually the trainer's fault.
I did not feel the sadness of failing, I just tried of getting up and trying. Trying just to fail again and again and again. Why was I even here do this? ANyways, this had nothing to do with haru, it was just painful, to fail, i would take time to reset make new uma parents.
I looked at the screen. "Maybe next time haru, when the chance arises."
The ceiling blurred slightly.
Didn't care.
The phone slipped from my hand onto my chest.
Still warm.
Still open.
I didn't even notice when my eyes closed.
The last thing I heard was the background menu music looping gently.
Then nothing.
No thinking.
No retrying.
No Arima Kinen.
Just quiet.