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

When Twilight Song awoke the next day, her life seemed to settle back into its usual tranquility.

It was so peaceful, in fact, that she never found the right opportunity to apologize to Mejiro Ramonu for her previous strange outburst.

Unlike Ardan, who had purely followed her out of worry, Mejiro Ramonu really did have business to attend to in America—so busy, in fact, that she hadn't returned home for even a single hour in half a month.

During these two weeks, Twilight Song's daily routine was as regular as ever.

Morning runs with Ardan, followed by training at the local sports field—certainly a far cry from Mejiro Estate, which boasted its own private grass track. The Twilight household, however, was completely different.

A modest villa like theirs simply didn't have enough space. Even if it did, what would they do with a personal racecourse?

After all, Twilight Song being an Uma Musume was entirely unexpected—something practically impossible, originally.

It seemed the decision to purchase this property, made by the old couple years ago, had thrown a boomerang through time, landing squarely on Twilight Song's head today.

Well, what else could she do? She couldn't just skip training.

Not that Mejiro Ardan minded—in fact, she was quite pleased with it.

"It wouldn't do for Ruka to always stay indoors," she'd say gently. "You should get out more."

"You're still young, after all. You have plenty of time."

Every time Twilight Song heard that, her lips would twitch involuntarily.

Yeah, sure. Who else has as much time as I do?

[Time remaining: 311 days, 11 hours, 46 seconds exactly.]

Just over three hundred days, she thought bitterly, irritation simmering in her chest.

I hate when you say things like that, Ardan-neesan!

"What's wrong? Did you see something you wanted?"

Ardan, noticing the small hand gripping hers tighten suddenly, glanced curiously at the little filly who was grinding her teeth.

They'd just stepped out of the training grounds onto a bustling commercial street—far livelier and more vibrant than the subtle elegance of Japan. Even the billboards were eye-catchingly bold enough to blind an innocent filly. The pedestrians' outfits, too, were notably daring.

It was the end of March—early spring. People confidently embraced the warmer weather, especially the Uma Musume, beings gifted by nature with beauty and physical perfection.

Influenced by American culture, many boldly displayed their confidence in ways perhaps too early for younger Uma Musume.

Yet, after staying here for a while, Ardan had completely adapted. As for Twilight Song?

She had grown up in America. There was certainly no need for Ardan to worry about her.

Hence, the gentle Uma Musume with pale-blue hair asked casually, rather than cautiously shielding Twilight Song's eyes.

"Nothing," Twilight Song huffed. "Let's just go home."

She quietly put aside her dark thoughts, checked the nearby bus schedule, and tugged Ardan along.

As they approached, Twilight Song noticed something intriguing.

New York Airport... and the last bus leaves at eleven?

The little filly's mind churned. She recalled finishing a short book on the journey home from the airport. That meant the ride had been less than an hour.

If they took the last bus at ten o'clock, it should pass by the airport—

"Ruka? What are you thinking about?"

"Huh? Oh, just hungry. Thinking about dinner."

Twilight Song quickly masked her thoughts, boarding the bus alongside Ardan on their way home.

As the bus swayed gently, Twilight Song's ears flicked comfortably. Honestly, this kind of peaceful daily life was wonderful—if only she could choose it herself.

She wanted to sigh but restrained herself due to Ardan's presence. Instead, she leaned quietly against her older sister's shoulder, carefully plotting out every detail for the coming night.

What do I need to prepare?

A small backpack, a change of clothes, her passport and ID. Fortunately, due to her unique identity, crossing borders posed no issues.

After all, she was an exceptionally talented Uma Musume with strong connections on both sides of the Pacific—truly lucky in that regard.

Before she left, she needed to write a note and grab the mailed plane ticket—

Originally, Twilight Song had planned to buy her own ticket, but given her age, it was clearly impossible.

However, after secretly contacting the organizers of the Japanese Triple Crown, they had surprisingly arranged everything, even mailing the ticket directly to her.

Thank goodness neither Ramonu nor Ardan had discovered it. That would've been catastrophic.

Evidently, the Japanese side was eager for her return and concealed the matter from anyone within the Mejiro family who might have learned of it.

Feels like I've forgotten something... She shrugged mentally.

Whatever it is, it's probably minor. Either way—it's foolproof.

The little filly shut her eyes, finally overcome by exhaustion, choosing a brief moment of rest.

Once again, with a heavy heart, she silently apologized.

I'm sorry, Ardan-neesan. I'm such a bad kid.

When she woke up again, she was already home. She bounced off the couch, ate dinner, then retreated to her room for an afternoon nap. For the rest of the day, she'd stay in bed—or rather, do absolutely nothing beyond breathing, like a plant avoiding strenuous activity.

But even so, a cruel reality pursued her relentlessly, like a hunting dog.

The frequency of her coughing blood had increased steadily.

Initially, when she'd first transmigrated, it was perhaps once a week. Recently…

Twice a week.

Sometimes, even during training, she'd taste sweetness in her throat.

At her most miserable, she had no choice but to force herself to swallow it back down.

If only I'd reincarnated as a vampire—then I could've produced and consumed my own blood.

She joked bitterly to herself, quietly locking her bedroom door.

Normally, she wouldn't bother, but given what she planned next, caution was essential.

Quietly, Twilight Song pulled out a prepared bag from her closet, neatly packed several pieces of clothing, carefully wrapped her Racing Outfit, tucked it away again, and hid everything deep within the wardrobe.

Finally, she opened the door and lay back down, acting as if nothing had happened.

Only after staring at the ceiling for a while did she realize what she'd forgotten to prepare—

A cushion for kneeling when she returned home from Japan after the Satsuki Sho.

After all, their home wasn't equipped with wooden floors or underfloor heating. Kneeling directly on cold tiles would freeze a filly half to death.