Only One Year Left—I'll Become a Legendary Uma Musume! Chapter 11: Only One Year Left—I’ll Become a Legendary Uma M

Seeing this is like eting face-to-face, Ramonu-neesan...?

Hmm, well, will you be the first one to open this diary?

Forgive —I don’t particularly like writing letters, but I suppose this counts as a diary, doesn’t it?

Anyway, please read carefully. This is where I’ll record the days ahead.

December 29th. Sunny. Morning training, but dragged off to the shopping mall.

Honestly, shopping is such a bother. I really don’t like doing it, especially when threatened by a certain annoying person.

What’s that supposed to an—"If you don’t want your secret revealed"?

Is this a threat? Or are you just bluffing? You probably don’t even know what the real secret is, right...?

Even though that’s what my rational side was saying, I still didn’t dare to challenge you. I couldn’t bring myself to say sothing like, "Go ahead if you dare!" The reason... is fear, isn’t it?

I don’t want anyone to know. I don’t want anyone to discover my physical condition. I don’t want to be looked at with pity, nor to be forcibly confined to a bed for treatnt.

So, even if the chance was tiny, all I could do was nod obediently and get in the car.

But Ardan-neesan ntioned that we were going to the mall to prepare my racing outfit, right? ...Ah, maybe that was your real intention as well, Ramonu-neesan.

The fear hadn’t entirely faded yet, or rather, by then it had turned into resentnt.

I was angry at you! I wasn’t planning to talk to you anymore!

If I’d only thought this far, it would’ve been fine. But—but—but—please allow to apologize first for what I’m about to say next... please don’t hate .

At that mont, I was thinking... that dying in your arms, coughing blood all over you, closing my eyes with resentnt still lingering... wouldn’t be too bad, would it?

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry... but I don’t want to lie to you, Ramonu-neesan. That truly was my honest feeling at the ti.

Please don’t hate . Even if I won’t be able to feel sadness when you read this later, I’d still cry now...

Then we arrived at the mall. Indeed, I didn’t speak to you the whole way. Twilight Song’s sulking isn’t sothing that just vanishes instantly, you know!

Then I saw this diary.

Actually, at first, I was just idly thinking. I never intended to keep a diary... but when I heard Ardan-neesan calling , I subconsciously took this notebook into my hand. By the ti I ca to my senses, I was already in the car going ho.

Hmm... why am I writing sothing like this down? No, it’s not to make my sisters sad, it’s just... I can’t say anything about my condition yet. At least, not right now. Absolutely, definitely not... But if I were to die, wouldn’t my sisters feel sad or even bla themselves?

That’s why I decided to write these things down. Everyone, please don’t be sad or cry because of . Because this is the selfish decision Twilight Song made after knowing the truth about herself.

When I first saw my dical report, honestly, my mind went blank. But afterward, I was terrifyingly calm.

In that mont, I suddenly realized sothing.

My life has entered a countdown, but... I don’t want to be forgotten. I can’t stand the thought that after I die, soone might tilt their head in confusion when hearing the na "Twilight Song," unable to recall anything about .

I want everyone to rember forever.

Then I recalled sothing I’d read before.

Yes... a person dies three tis. So I’ll use every remaining day of my life as a wager, pursuing that one sliver of hope.

A sliver of hope nad "legend," immortalized in the history of Uma Musu, and in everyone’s hearts.

Is this running away from reality? Definitely. After all, even if I’m immortalized as a legend, I won’t be around to see it. But right now, I need this small indulgence of weakness.

Please forgive .

Also, please don’t mind—or rather, go ahead and hate for this.

I’m deliberately distancing myself. I’m intentionally avoiding communicating with you all. Yes... I know I’m not allowed to talk openly.

Also... McQueen, do you think my racing outfit will be pretty? I’m sure your racing outfit will be lovely as well. Do your best! The path of an Uma Musu will surely suit you. If you grow quickly enough, perhaps you’ll even catch up to .

Lastly, let be a bit arrogant here. I’ve written this down long ago... But at that ti, will the situation truly turn out as badly as this? Hopefully not... but I feel it approaching. I, too, long to be embraced by everyone, to walk together, year after year...

Anyway, jiro family, please don’t cry for . This is Twilight Song’s final wish.

---

Putting down her pen, Twilight Song looked at the full page of neat handwriting in front of her and broke into a wicked smile. She picked up a small knife beside her, pricked her fingertip, and dripped two drops of blood onto the page. After letting it dry slightly, she locked the diary away in a small cabinet.

Heh heh heh... now my disguise is perfect, isn’t it?

jiro Ramonu, that’s what you get for daring to threaten and deceive !

Twilight Song stood up and stretched before lying down on her bed, her eyes unfocused.

Honestly, this is a bit too far, isn’t it? Yet... Twilight Song still couldn’t resist the urge and desire to leave behind these words.

Why was she feeling so sentintal? She didn’t know... or rather, she refused to admit it.

Even if she was rembered in history, it would only be as a legendary Uma Musu—perhaps vaguely, without anyone truly understanding her heart.

But the people around her would know her best.

She wanted to be rembered as Twilight Song, without misunderstanding or shadowed impressions from others.

But of course, if she dropped the tsundere act and spoke more honestly...

Perhaps, being afraid of death, she was seeking deeper bonds with those around her.

But she couldn’t do that. It would only hurt them. Writing in a diary was a form of self-deception she allowed herself.

What if their relationship wasn’t close by then? What if it stayed as distant or even worse than now?

jiro Ramonu might just sneer coldly after reading it, stomp the diary underfoot, and look contemptuously at her younger sisters.

"Heh, what a pathetic girl—so presumptuous."

Perhaps even that wouldn’t be too bad.

With a bitter sigh, Twilight Song rolled over and looked toward the bookshelf, as if, through the crack of the door, she could see that person again, standing quietly, flipping through a book.

Sunlight spilled gently onto her hair, the pages rustled softly, and most importantly, that gentle voice that wasn’t frightening at all, leaning closer and softly asking—

"Am I really that scary?"

Twilight Song closed her eyes. The room fell silent.

But a few seconds later, the little filly suddenly threw aside the blankets and rushed toward the bathroom.

"Ugh—!"