First day of class as a mega centaur. That's something, let me tell ya.
—
It was strange waking up somewhere that wasn’t her dorm room.
Hibiki blinked up at the unfamiliar ceiling of the S.O.N.G. residential wing, momentarily disoriented, until she tried to stretch.
Four legs shifted against reinforced flooring instead of two.
Right.
Her old dorm room simply hadn’t been an option anymore. The bed was too short. The space too narrow. Even turning around had become a three-point maneuver.
S.O.N.G. had moved her into a storage-converted living suite overnight, with widened doorframes, reinforced floors, furniture hastily rearranged to accommodate someone who now took up nearly three times the space she used to.
She slowly pushed herself upright.
Her hooves touched the floor with a heavy clop that echoed louder than she expected.
“…so loud,” she muttered.
Standing was easy. Standing felt natural, even. It was everything else that required recalibration.
She walked toward the mirror.
Her reflection met her.
Her upper half was still at least recognizable, even if a bit different. Still her, Hibiki Tachibana.
Her lower half couldn’t even pass as trying to imitate being human anymore.
But even her upper half was barely her anymore. Her shoulders looked broader than she remembered. Her arms were thick and defined, undeniably powerful. Her torso carried a strength that made her look closer to a professional fighter than a high schooler. Making her look more like Genjuro's daughter than anything else.
Her gaze dropped lower, where she saw her four strong legs. Fur catching the morning light. A horse tail flicking once in unconscious nerves far behind her.
She flexed one hand experimentally.
The mirror version flexed back. Biceps bulging to a degree that had never seen before, let alone on herself.
“…Okay,” she whispered. “I just gotta get used to this. No biggy.”
She tried a smile.
It wavered.
What if she broke a desk?What if she knocked someone over?What if everyone stared?What if—
There was a soft knock.
The door slid open.
Miku stepped in, carrying two neatly folded uniform tops over her arm.
She paused for just a second, not because of shock or fear, but just to take Hibiki in the way someone takes in a sunrise they’re still adjusting to.
Then she smiled.
“Morning, Hibiki.”
Hibiki’s tail flicked again. “Morning…”
Miku stepped closer, setting the uniforms down. “How’d you sleep?”
“…very upright and a little bit too sideways,” Hibiki admitted. “I think I kicked the wall at least twice.”
Miku giggled softly. “Did the wall survive?”
“Barely.”
That earned a small laugh from both of them, the tension easing for a moment.
Miku picked up the modified uniform blouse. It had been adjusted overnight with reinforced seams, widened shoulders, stretch panels hidden beneath the fabric.
“Let’s get you dressed,” she said gently.
Hibiki raised her arms, trying to cooperate, and nearly brushed the ceiling.
“…I’m going to knock over so many things today.”
“You might,” Miku said calmly.
“What if I don’t fit in the classroom aisle?”
“We’ll rearrange it.”
“What if I accidentally crush someone’s foot?”
“Then you’ll apologize a hundred times and buy them juice.”
Hibiki huffed weakly. “What if everyone thinks I’m weird?”
Miku stepped in front of her, hands resting lightly against Hibiki’s chest, feeling the steady, powerful heartbeat beneath.
“They already think you’re weird,” Miku said fondly.
“…Hey.”
“You charge into explosions. You befriend villains. You eat enough for three people.” She smiled up at her. “And even if most people don’t know these things, now you are just taking up more space which just means… more Hibiki… for all of us.”
That earned a small, genuine laugh.
Hibiki looked down at herself again.
“…I don’t feel normal.”
“You don’t have to,” Miku said softly. “You just have to be you.”
There was no grand speech. No dramatic declaration.
Yet it was exactly what Hibiki needed to hear.
Hibiki took a slow breath in.
Then another.
Her hooves shifted, steadying.
“…Okay,” she said at last. “Okay. I can do this.”
Miku adjusted the collar of her uniform one last time and stepped back to admire her work.
“You look strong.”
Hibiki flexed experimentally, the fabric stretching but holding.
“…I feel strong.”
“Good.”
“…Might be because I am buffer than a workhorse.”
“Most likely.”
Hibiki hesitated.
“…Will you walk with me?”
Miku didn’t hesitate at all.
“Always.”
Hibiki then smirked.
“Do you want to ride on me?”
MIku rolled her eyes.
“I think it's a good idea to not do that on your first day in school as a centaur.”
Together, they headed toward the hallway, hooves clopping rhythmically beside soft footsteps.
When the doors slid open and the morning light poured in, Hibiki walked forward anyway. Because with Miku at her side, she could truly face any day.
—
The walk to school took longer than usual.
Not because Hibiki was slow, no no. If anything, she had to consciously slow herself down. No, she was slow, because she was hyper-aware of every step and did her best to match Miku's human speed.
Clop. Clop. Clop.
Even trying to step lightly still sounded like someone dropping textbooks on tile.
By the time Lydian Academy came into view, Hibiki’s nerves had returned in full force.
Students were gathered near the entrance.
A lot of them were human.
Some… not.
A girl with rabbit ears nervously adjusting her headband. A boy with scaled forearms scrolling through his phone. A harpy struggling slightly with her backpack straps.
The city had changed.
And so had the school.
Hibiki swallowed.
Before she and Miku could even reach the doors…
“Hibiki!”
The voice was familiar.
Professor Nakane stood just outside the entrance, golden wings folded carefully against her back. Her leonine lower half shifted slightly as she adjusted her stance, tail flicking once in what Hibiki now recognized as shared nerves.
Beside her stood the assistant teacher from earlier in the week, clipboard in hand.
They approached quickly.
Up close, the sight of them was almost comical, a sphinx and a towering centaur facing one another in front of a high school building at eight in the morning.
Professor Nakane gave a small, embarrassed smile.
“I heard you were affected as well,” she said gently. “Though… I admit I wasn’t prepared for the scale of it.”
Hibiki rubbed the back of her neck. “Y-Yeah. It’s… a lot.”
The assistant teacher adjusted her glasses, looking between them. “As far as we’ve been informed, only the two of you from this class were directly transformed.”
Hibiki blinked. “Just us?”
Professor Nakane nodded. “It appears so. Which means we’ve been given… special instructions.”
She cleared her throat, trying to look professional despite the fact that her tail kept swishing nervously.
“The principal has requested that we support one another through this situation.”
Hibiki tilted her head. “Support…?”
“Yes. Since we’re both… you know… currently not really human, she believes that having someone who understands the situation firsthand will make it easier to get through the day. And I kind of agree.”
The assistant teacher stepped forward. “I’ve been assigned to assist Professor Nakane with tasks that may prove difficult given her new body.”
She glanced meaningfully at the school doors.
Which were slightly narrower than ideal.
Professor Nakane let out a soft sigh. “Apparently knocking over the faculty room table yesterday was considered a ‘learning experience.’”
Hibiki winced in sympathy.
“And,” the assistant continued, “the principal suggested that Miss Tachibana might also want to appoint someone to be her help and support.”
“I’ll do it.”
Everyone turned toward Miku.
Miku stood straighter, hands clasped politely.
“I’ll assist Hibiki,” she said simply. “If that’s alright.”
Hibiki blinked. “Miku… You are the best…”
“I’m taking care of you anyway, so it wouldn’t make a big difference if we made it official," Miku replied gently.
Professor Nakane smiled warmly. “That’s very kind of you.”
The assistant teacher made a note on her clipboard. “Very well. Informal peer assistance approved.”
Professor Nakane gave a small nod, gathering herself. “In that case, shall we?”
The four of them turned toward the entrance.
One sphinx professor, doing her best to look dignified.
One assistant teacher, clipboard at the ready.
One heavily built centaur student trying very hard not to overthink her stride.
And one determined girlfriend who had already decided this was simply the new normal.
The doors slid open.
They entered together.
—
By the time the four of them entered the classroom, most of the students were already seated.
Conversations died down quickly.
A few girls whispered.A few others simply stared.
Hibiki couldn’t really blame them.
Standing beside Professor Nakane at the front of the room, the two of them probably looked like something out of a fantasy book rather than a normal homeroom class. A sphinx teacher with folded golden wings and a centaur student built like she’d spent the last year lifting weights for a living.
Professor Nakane cleared her throat politely.
“As you’ve likely already heard,” she began, “Miss Tachibana and I were both affected by the incident earlier this week.”
She shifted her weight slightly, her lion paws adjusting on the floor.
“While the circumstances are… unusual, both of us are otherwise perfectly healthy. We simply require a bit of adjustment time.”
The assistant teacher nodded beside her, holding a clipboard.
“We appreciate everyone’s cooperation while we make a few changes to the classroom layout.”
A few students nodded. One girl near the window raised a hand enthusiastically.
“Sensei, your wings look amazing!”
Professor Nakane blinked, clearly not expecting that.
“…Thank you,” she said after a moment, slightly flustered.
Then she clapped her hands lightly.
“Now then… before we begin, I’m going to need a little help.”
Several students stood immediately.
“If a few of you could help move my desk forward,” she said, gesturing with one wing. “Just a bit further away from the board. I… have slightly more turning radius than before.”
That earned a few small laughs.
The desk was carefully lifted and slid forward.
“Perfect, thank you,” Nakane said.
She then looked toward Hibiki’s corner of the room.
“And for Miss Tachibana…”
Everyone followed her gaze.
Hibiki tried very hard not to shrink under the attention, which was difficult when shrinking wasn’t physically possible anymore.
“I believe the best arrangement would be something like a kneeling station,” Nakane continued thoughtfully.
She gestured toward a stack of spare gym futons kept in the classroom closet.
“If we place a futon here, Miss Tachibana can kneel comfortably behind her desk rather than directly on the floor.”
Hibiki nodded quickly. “Yeah, that… actually sounds good. I live with that.”
Several students helped drag the futon over, spreading it neatly behind Hibiki’s desk.
Someone even moved the surrounding desks slightly apart to give her a bit more room.
Within a few minutes, the improvised setup was ready.
Hibiki stepped carefully into place and lowered herself onto the futon, folding her legs beneath her.
“…Okay,” she said quietly. “That’s actually not bad.”
“Wonderful,” Nakane said with relief.
She glanced at the clock.
“…eh, starting class thirty minutes late isn't the worst thing that could have happened.”
The class giggled softly.
“Better late than never, let’s begin.”
—
The lesson started.
Or at least, it tried to.
Hibiki barely heard half of it.
She had never felt this big before.
Even kneeling, she could easily see over the top of her desk. Her shoulders were nearly level with some of the taller students sitting normally in their chairs.
Her hands rested on the tabletop.
They looked enormous.
The pencil between her fingers suddenly seemed fragile, like something made for a child rather than something she had used every day for years.
She carefully wrote a word in her notebook.
Scratch.
The pencil creaked slightly under her grip.
Hibiki immediately loosened her hold.
Careful… careful…
She stared at her hands again.
Her forearms were thick. Defined. Strong enough that she could probably snap the desk in half if she leaned on it wrong.
And despite not even having a chair anymore…
She was still taking up four… maybe five times as much space as anyone else in the room.
Her tail flicked nervously behind her.
Everyone can see me.
Her ears burned.
Everyone knows I'm huge.
She shifted slightly.
The futon rustled under her weight.
Beside her, Miku quietly reached over.
Without a word, she slipped her hand into Hibiki’s.
Hibiki blinked.
Miku didn’t look at her. She simply continued copying notes with her free hand like nothing unusual was happening.
Her thumb gently squeezed Hibiki’s fingers.
It’s okay.
Hibiki’s shoulders slowly relaxed.
The pencil stopped creaking in her hand.
Her breathing evened out.
“…Yeah,” she whispered to herself.
That helped.
That helped a lot.
—
Hibiki had a plan.
A simple plan.
A quiet plan.
She would stand up.She would walk to the door.She would go eat lunch somewhere peaceful.
No attention and drama.And No—
“Hibiki!”
She didn’t even make it halfway across the classroom.
The swarm descended.
Girls gathered around her almost instantly, some wide-eyed, some excited, some trying very hard to be polite and failing.
Miku reacted just as quickly, stepping forward with a gentle but firm smile.
“Okay, okay,” she said, raising her hands slightly. “Everyone, give her a little space. She’s still Hibiki, not a museum exhibit.”
A few students laughed awkwardly and stepped back half a pace.
“I know you all have questions,” Miku continued. “But one at a time, alright? And be respectful.”
Hibiki gave her a grateful look.
“…Thanks.”
The first hand shot up immediately.
“Does it feel weird walking?”
Hibiki rubbed her neck sheepishly. “Not as weird as you’d think. You get used to four legs surprisingly quickly.”
Another voice from the side. “Can you run faster now?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Hibiki said with a small grin. “Pretty sure I could keep up with a car in the city if I really tried.”
A murmur of impressed reactions spread.
“Do you need horseshoes?”
Hibiki blinked. “…Err… I don’t know. Probably? I haven’t really thought about that yet.”
Someone leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “Are those muscles real??”
Hibiki groaned dramatically and flexed one arm just enough to make the sleeve tighten.
“Unfortunately yes,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind being strong… but having biceps the size of my head is weird, to say the least.” She put the back of her hand to her forehead in mock tragedy. “I feel like I lost all my womanly grace Haaa”
The group burst into laughter.
Another girl bounced in place. “Can you lift me??”
Hibiki rolled her eyes and reached down, placing her hands carefully under the girl’s shoulders.
Then lifted her. Effortlessly.
The girl let out a delighted squeak as she was raised into the air.
“…Yeah,” Hibiki said. “I think I can.”
More laughter.
Then a slightly more awkward voice asked, “What happens if someone brushes your tail?”
Hibiki froze.
“What sort of question is that?!” she blurted. “Nothing! I hope!”
Her tail flicked reflexively, nearly knocking into someone’s lunch tray. Miku caught it just in time.
The excitement simmered into softer chatter.
Then Yumi Itaba, who had been watching quietly from the edge of the group, spoke up.
“…I’m kinda jealous.”
The noise faded.
Hibiki looked at her in surprise. “Jealous?”
Yumi shrugged. “I mean… think about it. You’re living in a fantasy scenario right now. Nothing about this is normal. It’s scary, sure… but it’s also exciting.”
She smiled faintly.
“If this were an anime, I’d totally watch it. And honestly… I kind of wish it happened to me instead of you.”
Hibiki opened her mouth.
But the school bell rang.
The moment shattered as everyone groaned and began gathering their things.
Hibiki remained where she was for a second longer.
Doctor Fantastica had said something similar.
A world of myths. A world of legends.
…Was it really all bad?
She shook her head slightly.
No time to overthink.
More class awaited.
—
If there was one class Hibiki had expected to feel normal again…
It was this one.
Music had always been her safe place. Singing wasn’t about strength, space, or balance. It wasn’t about hooves or muscles or knocking over furniture.
It was just her voice.
Or so she thought.
The classroom filled with warm afternoon light as the students gathered around the piano. Hibiki carefully folded herself down onto the floor beside Miku, already feeling slightly more confident after surviving the morning.
This will be fine, she told herself.
Professor Nakane clapped once, positioning her large body in the way it would inconvenience the fewest people.
“Let’s begin with vocal warm-ups.”
The class hummed together, rising and falling in gentle scales.
Hibiki joined in.
And immediately felt something was… different.
Her voice didn’t sit where she expected it to.
It came out lower.
Not weak or rough.
Just… deeper.
She tried again, pushing more air through her lungs.
The sound that emerged was rich and resonant, carrying across the room with a surprising weight. It almost felt like the floor itself vibrated faintly beneath her.
Several students stopped mid-note.
Professor Nakane blinked.
Miku looked at her in quiet astonishment.
Hibiki’s eyes widened. “S-Sorry!”
She straightened instinctively. “I’ll try again!”
They moved on to the next exercise, a higher scale.
This time Hibiki focused hard, aiming for the notes she had always been able to reach.
Her voice rose.
Rose—
And stopped.
The note cracked.
A painful strain shot through her throat.
She swallowed and tried again, pushing harder.
Nothing.
Her voice simply refused to go that high anymore.
Her chest tightened.
No… come on…
She forced another attempt.
The sound that came out was thin and unstable, not her voice at all.
“Hibiki,” Miku said softly.
Hibiki didn’t stop.
She tried one more time.
Her eyes began to sting.
Then Miku gently touched her arm.
“Can you try singing it again,” she asked quietly, “but the way you did the first time?”
Hibiki hesitated.
Her throat ached. Her pride did too.
But she nodded.
“…Okay.”
She closed her eyes.
Took a deep breath.
And let the sound come out naturally.
The note filled the room.
The low, strong, clear note she sange before.
It resonated in a way she had never heard from herself before, steady and warm, like the sound had roots in the floor itself.
She held it.
Alone.
When she finished, the silence lasted half a second.
Then the class burst into applause.
Hibiki blinked, stunned.
Professor Nakane approached her with a bright, excited smile and placed a hand gently on her broad shoulder.
“I have good news, Hibiki,” she said. “I believe you’ve discovered a new vocal range.”
Hibiki stared at her. “R-Really?”
“As you are now, you could make a wonderful mezzo-soprano,” the teacher continued. “Something I don’t think any other student in this building can do.”
She squeezed Hibiki’s shoulder reassuringly.
“Your voice is just as beautiful as ever. It’s simply… changed. And we must learn to see the positives in our situations, yes?”
Hibiki felt warmth spread through her chest.
“…Right!” she said, smiling again.
The tension faded.
The music resumed.
And Hibiki began to feel that maybe Professor Nakane was right. Maybe all she needed to do for now is just to make the best out of the situation she was in.
—
The final bell rang.
For the first time all day, Hibiki felt like she could breathe.
She had survived.
She had not crushed any desks.She had not broken any pencils.She had not trampled any classmates.
By her standards and outlook at her current situation, that counted as a successful return to school.
As students filtered out of the classroom, Miku walked up beside her with an easy smile.
“Want to go into the city for a bit?” she asked. “We can talk. Maybe grab something to eat.”
Hibiki didn’t hesitate.
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
—
Walking through the streets felt… different.
Not just because of the steady clop of her hooves on pavement, or the way she had to be careful around narrow sidewalks.
The city itself had changed.
At a crosswalk, a lamia girl coiled patiently beside a group of office workers.
Near a convenience store, a harpy struggled to trigger the automatic doors, flapping one wing awkwardly until someone stepped forward to help.
A massive minotaur carried grocery bags with careful precision, moving slowly so he wouldn’t bump into anyone.
Human children stared openly.
Some people filmed.
Others offered quiet assistance.
Most simply… continued living.
There were still far more humans than transformed people.
But it was impossible to walk more than a block without noticing that the world was no longer the same.
Hibiki took it all in as she walked beside Miku.
“…It’s kinda different,” she said after a while.
She thought about it.
“Yet so normal.”
Miku chuckled softly. “I have never heard a more accurate description of your current situation in my life.”
Hibiki snorted.
“…True.”
They stopped at a small restaurant they both liked.
There was a brief moment of uncertainty at the entrance, mostly about space, but the owner quickly waved them in with an enthusiastic grin.
“We’ve already started rearranging things,” he said. “Give me a second.”
A table was shifted. A chair removed. A bit more room created.
Problem solved.
People glanced as Hibiki settled herself down.
But no one recoiled or panicked.
They just… looked. Curious and interested, as one would expect people to do when watching a bulky centauress taking a seat at the table next to them.
Hibiki ordered enough food for what used to be three people and dug in with cheerful determination.
At one point her hoof tapped lightly against the pavement under the table.
She paused.
Listened to the sound.
Then smiled.
“Let’s make the best of it,” she said. “I won’t let myself be slowed down by muscles and horsepower.”
Miku laughed.
“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “for being a supposedly brilliant scientist, Doctor Fantastica didn’t think very far ahead.”
Hibiki tilted her head. “How so?”
“Well,” Miku said, gesturing vaguely at Hibiki’s enormous arms, “turning the girl who was actively fighting her into someone several times stronger than before… might not have been the smartest tactical decision. I mean, you could probably crush a car if you tried.”
Hibiki considered this.
“…Do you think I should try crushing a car?”
Miku blinked.
Then sighed fondly.
“Never change, Hibiki.”