They were loud.

  It wasn’t just the sound of their feet. Hit was screaming as she ran. The two were side by side as they came into the first of the four turns, both skidding to a stop and turning before taking off again. Spirit’s turn was better, more precise, and she started moving before her rival did, but Hit had taken less space to stop, starting less deep into the corner, and she sprinted out faster, leaving Spirit behind. The process repeated at the next corner, and the next, Spirit falling further and further behind as Woodland watched. She hadn’t thought about stopping ability - that never, ever came up in official races. But between that and the stronger sprint, Hit was negating Spirit’s superior turning and building her lead. As they ran off from the last turn, Woodland hopped over the barrier and started jogging after them, worry gripping her.

  If Spirit lost, she’d have to race against Hit. Could she do anything against that?

  She’d have to.

  At the bottom, she found Minus on Hit shouting to the crowd, and Atlas Spirit sitting on the ground, her head tilted back.

  “So, I have to run again?” Woodland asked, sitting down next to her teammate.

  “Yeah. Sorry, uh, don’t worry about it. We lost this time, but we’ll come back stronger.”

  After what she had seen, she didn’t think it was possible for her to win against Hit. Someone even faster than Spirit? Not a chance, not for her. But hearing that she’d already lost, that didn’t go to her head. That went to her heart. Her soul. And she rejected it.

  “I haven’t lost yet.”

  Somehow, Minus on Hit heard her. She turned, walking over. “You think you can beat me? Huh? I wanna see how you do it.”

  “You can watch from behind me.” Woodland said, standing up straight, just barely shorter than the other horse girl.

  Baring her teeth, Hit turned away, walking up the road. “Let’s go then. I’m going to beat you so badly nobody will buy your stupid energy drinks any more.”

  That only served to upset her more. That wasn’t the history she was hiding, but who told Hit about that? Weren’t they supposed to leave that stuff out of it? Why did her day job matter?

  “Get ready!” Bongo called out, holding her phone up. Woodland took her place at the line, watching Hit do the same.

  Except she didn’t do the same, not quite.

  Hit lined up the same way Spirit did. Not the way Striker did.

  Striker had lined up like Woodland.

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  Like she was entering a gate.

  Woodland smiled. Natsume Striker had raced on proper tracks at some point. That last dash was the other piece of the puzzle - every racer on a real track would have done that, holding back for the final spurt. Spirit never did that.

  The buzzer sounded and Woodland ran forward, falling in behind Hit. A plan was already forming. A path to victory.

  It wasn’t over yet.

  The first corners went as badly as she thought they would. Hit wasn’t that much better than Spirit, but it was enough to steadily build a lead on Woodland. Just like all her practice sessions, she would rush forward for the straight stretches, then fall behind in the corners. She accepted this, and planned her attack for four spots.

  The first was the straight before the double hairpin. There wasn’t one finish line, but three. She went all out here, catching up as much as she could, coming almost shoulder to shoulder with the gray-haired horse girl before the corner separated them, the gap in their skill manifesting as a gap between the two racers as they came out of the turn.

  But this was just the second point of attack, the second of three finish lines. She pushed herself again, her legs burning as she ran, coming up beside Hit, and then passing her.

  The other girl started screaming.

  They turned a few gentler corners, Woodland not losing her lead since she didn’t need to stop for the turn. The first hairpin dropped her lead, and in the second she lost it. A few more gentle bends lay between her and the four consecutive hairpin turns.

  The third point of attack, the final finish line.

  She pushed herself as hard as she could. In her mind, she wasn’t running against Minus On Hit. She wasn’t running against Crystal Spark, either. She was running against Thundering Silence. The one who had tricked her into losing her future. The downhill course didn’t drain her stamina, but she ran so hard she panted, her heart pounding, and she did it.

  She got ahead of Minus On Hit, just before the first of the four corners.

  She had seen it. She didn’t need Spirit to give her data - not that the other girl had offered any. She stopped running early, managing to come to a halt in the exact spot Hit had against Spirit. Turning, she rushed towards the next corner, the sound of Hit screaming at her barely registering. She did it again, blocking the other girl, forcing her to take a different angle, negating her stopping ability. With Woodland in the ideal spot, Hit had to run deeper into the corner before she could turn anyway. Her angry screaming grew more intense with each failed attempt at taking back the lead. Even her dash out of the corners were blocked by Woodland.

  Those four corners were the last point of attack. The straight between them and the next double hairpin was long enough for Woodland to build up a lead, preventing her from blocking her. She just took the lead and then let it vanish, coming out side by side with her opponent, only to pull ahead again. The next two turns weren’t enough to give Hit the lead back, and despite all her yelling, Woodland stayed in front and then took off down the final stretch, winding through the lesser corners to the finish.

  The look on Atlas Spirit’s face as she rounded that last corner and crossed the line was worth it.

  She didn’t even pose for the crowd. She came skidding to a stop in front of her teammate.

  “I told you I hadn’t lost!” She didn’t bask in the shock on Spirit’s face, instead turning to Striker. “Hey, you. I have to thank you. You gave me the answer.”

  “What fucking answer was that? Where’d you learn to run like that? Huh?” Hit demanded from behind her. “You’ve got some screws loose!”

  Striker spoke up. “No, Hit, she doesn’t. She’s been on the official circuit.” The horse girl’s gaze moved from her teammate’s face to Woodland’s. “Just like me. That’s what you realized, right? How did it help you?”

  Tilting her head and smiling, Woodland waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll figure it out eventually if you keep racing.”

  The Crow and the Rabbit.