Chapter Text
A prestigious school for Umamusume—girls mystical in nature—all of whom attend this prestigious school full of incredible characters and prospects in their own craft. A school full of hotshots and veterans, Tracen is the greatest at nurturing these Umamusume. But with its prodigies come quirks—quirks which normal teachers usually can't deal with on a daily basis. With quirks unconventional to the human mind, unconventional recruits are favored.
And nothing is more favored in this school than Sento Kiryu and his supposed assistant, Banjo Ryuga.
Within a room in the teachers' lounge, Banjo found himself toiling within it as he looked at a rather smug Sento, waving a small stack of printed papers, delivering him the news of their employment.
"What assistant!?"
The quiet and clear morning sky was shattered by a bellow from a man indignant about the position a certain someone gave him. Thankfully, the campus was clear of students, and only faculty heard the commotion.
His superior, if you could even call him such, laid his papers on the table; it was the autobiography of Kamen Rider Build, and above it were their résumés, with one big red mark on it. They were accepted by Japan's biggest Tracen.
"My assistant, Musclehead," Sento clarified. "You wouldn't be here if you weren't assigned such, because you don't have my capacity as a genius! Oh yeah, apparently they want us to start tomorrow. They sure are impatient for greatness."
He tried to irritate the indignant assistant even more by trying to ruffle his hair, but it just got slapped away before it even reached him. As stubborn as he was indignant, he found himself standing as he grabbed and read the résumé Sento had made for him. He found one of his eyes twitching unconsciously, irritated.
"So that's why you made the résumé yourself; it's so you can actually go out here calling me an assistant!"
Sento skipped to the water dispenser for a cold cup of water.
"Isn't that what you are nowadays?"
"Uh... Yeah, I guess so... But I don't wanna. It's below me." Banjo sat back down on the couch with the paper laid on the coffee table, legs spread out like a tired man on a long day. Sento gave him a cup of water while setting his on the table.
"But it wasn't below for the old you, yes?" Banjo just had a look Sento would know as an 'Are you kidding me?' look on his face. It always looked amusing on him...
"I was broke. I needed it for my fiancée. And you know damn well it got me framed as a criminal. I don't like that stupid job title anymore."
Sento pulled out his clunky phone as he sent over details of their job in their recent employment.
"You better know how to like it then. It's a job that can get us something, unlike those stupid rackets you've been doing and selling whatever junk you get in my lab as some kind of action figure prop. All of that isn't befitting of me," Sento snarked. Banjo nearly huffed in response as he felt the rumble in his pocket.
"You're the one making me sell those useless and DANGEROUS junk you usually make!" The musclehead stood up with an annoyed groan as Sento let off an offended "Oi!"
"Whatever, I'm getting some air. Just yell when it's time to go home or something." Banjo started walking to the exit of the lounge as Sento reached for a pen and notebook stored in his rather long khaki coat.
"Yes, don't get lost." He bluntly quipped as he started writing.
"Shut up."
Banjo opened the door, stepping into the hallway, running before pushing through the exit. The gust of fresh air hit him as he stepped outside. He breathed deep as he heard the trees sway as the winds blew through them. It felt refreshing—lovely and comforting compared to the cold air of the AC in the lounge. He always felt a tinge in his spine whenever the cold air hugged his body.
Not out of sensitivity to colds, but to what he experienced: the Faust labs, their experiments, the bullshit Evol had done and the manipulations he pulled in the old world, The Pandora Box, and the walls that separated them all with the cold war that came with it, creating the infighting that destroyed this country—he's reminded of it all, and he's glad nearly all of those are gone in this new world, a world where Japan is well.
Before he could simmer in the air by the fields, he felt a small bite on his ass, akin to a mosquito but even more painful. He yelped in pain as he turned around and saw his ever-loyal companion built by Sento: the Cross-Z Dragon.
Naturally, he didn't react well.
"Oi! That fucking hurt!" he hissed as he grabbed the dragon, angry. Subsequently, it spewed its blue flames indignantly after being caught, prompting him to release it, which caused it to create a rather annoyed tune.
"Well, sorry, it was pretty important for the both of us," Banjo apologized as he let it fly out of his grasp, immediately forgiving the attack rendered to his ass. Remembering to check for cameras (as Sento would always drill into his head after Killbas happened), he craned down his shoulder lightly, allowing the semi-sentient gadget to land on his shoulders. As much as he wasn't a fan of this slightly smarter gear, he preferred them not bite-happy, he had to respect it—or it would bite or flame his ass.
Looking around for the final time, he glanced at the dragon on his shoulder, somewhat annoyed.
"Couldn't you be patient?" The dragon just replied in a tune. He was told that the tunes it made usually meant something, but he wasn't really that technically smart. Still, he trusted his instinct and common sense.
"I'm gonna assume you're not gonna change at all."
And it made a rather affirming tune as it flew away and did its own thing. Still, confusing piece of mechanism biting him as a coded way of response.
Banjo just contemplates on kicking Sento's ass for making these things in the new world much more sadistic than before.
His own self-recollection was interrupted by a whirl of electronics and wheels. Looking in the direction of the sound, he found a student on a Segway—white hair, with horse ears and tail, a rather strange set of accessories, and properly cut hair with Tracen's standard purple uniform, carrying a school bag and riding a gray Segway into school grounds nonchalantly.
"Good mornin'," she greeted in English. He dumbly just nodded.
"Uh. Mornin'," he responded. Even after seeing them so many times, it sure still felt weird seeing Umamusume.
Are Segways allowed in this campus?
Umamusume. Horse Girls.
Though he had been nearly branded insane and a creep after a few days in this new world due to their sudden inclusion—and the lack of animal counterparts—they were girls with the features and physicality of horses, yet still with standard human intelligence, anatomy, and compatibility between humans. A new addition in the world they now resided in.
As strange as it was, he is very much thankful it isn't at all a problem with what they had to deal with in a few years or so.
Still, as much as it was very sudden and rather surprising for the two, it wasn't their problem at all, As he and Banjo were bankrupt, nothing in their pockets other than their gear and some junk. They got by as nomads. And when they tried to bet on horses, these were the sights they saw—women with horse-like features, running swiftly on the track. And strangely enough, no betting was allowed—at least not in a traditional sense.
(He recalled there are apps that allow you bet on horses illegally, but they dont have any service at all.)
He still remembers Banjo's cries of frustration when his plans to gamble on horses went up in smoke.
Sento still remembers how stupid that idea was, putting everything to an animal to get rich? Hilarious and very onbrand for the Prince of Protein.
They carried on with their days, living off odd jobs, getting by with just enough food each evening. Eventually, they managed to live comfortably in this world—and more fortunately, they did so through Sento's creations, which Banjo sold on the streets as a local unlicensed vendor. Though he's not going to lie: that Killbas incident was one of his biggest blunders...
Who would've known selling a weapon greater than Cross-Z would end in said weapon threatening the world?
What a blunder, what stupid man would ever do such a thing?
Still, it ended well. Evol in his revival from the incident went away, and the friends he once had returned in this new world thanks to the Pandora's Box, and thanks to Team Build reuniting, their biggest concern became paying rent for the warehouse they called home and trying not to get involved with the other members' lovelifes.
Eugh...
Still, all was well.
Then, a blisteringly loud slam came down on him. The lounge door burst open like a tornado came trying to tear it down. Sento's writing came to a halt as he turned to face the unexpected visitor.
Thankfully, nothing was broken. The one who had caused the ruckus? Unexpectedly, The Chairman's ever-calm and loyal secretary, Tazuna Hayakawa.
"Oh." Spurred by the sudden aggressiveness, Sento felt compelled to greet her. He stood up and his pen and paper landed on the desk clattering loudly.
"Hello, Ms. Tazuna," he greeted with the most respectful decorum he could muster as a new employee.
"Hello, Sento-san. I hope I haven't intruded," she replied, her tone professional.
Sento shook his head. "Oh no, you have not, I was merely writing my lesson plans in my notebook—nothing much is happening. What brings you here, Tazuna-san?" Although he was somewhat uneasy after her abrupt entrance—literally—he still responded with full professionalism. He didn't want to take any chances. Getting fired on his first day would be embarrassing.
"I'm here to remind you to do well in teaching the students in Tracen tomorrow," she began, voice like a general issuing orders. She then listed protocol after protocol and Sento listened. Though something out of the blue came up for Tazuna.
"It may seem abrupt," she said, "but new hires must be reminded—especially those... with unverified backgrounds." Sento gave a short nod. Still listening intently. "Just ensure your lessons stay within bounds. No unauthorized experiments. No unstable chemicals. No inspiring reckless behavior."
Her eyes narrowed. "Tracen has no room for accidents. Or surprises." She paused, a gaze sharp came to the Physicist, intending to warn him.
"It's strange to start with a warning, I know. But you have no records. No achievements. Nothing but 'Genius Physicist and Polymath'—according to the Director." She listed off. He knew suspicion when he heard one, but he stood cool.
"She accepted you. Not because of your résumé, or your claims. But on a hunch. Something she's never done." This surprised Sento. Hired out of a hunch... How silly.
But it's terrific! How interesting.
He offered a bemused smile toward the secretary. Confident, yet not so much to be overbearing, he had learned his lessons in his days as a nomad.
"Then I suppose I'll just have to make sure her hunch is right." He's egoistic, never stupid. "her trust she has put on me is clear as day, Tazuna-san. I shall honor it as a great man of science." His bemused smile transformed into a confident smirk as he boldly declared his soft challenge. He will exceed her expectations, his ego will wont allow for any disappointment"
Tazuna regarded him for a moment. No change in posture. No break in eye contact. But there—just for a second—her shoulders relaxed.
Barely.
"A convincing answer. We'll see if your actions match it." Her tone hadn't shifted. But it lacked the edge from before.
"Thank you, I shall be on my way, good day to you, Sento-san. And I apologize for any undue scares I've bought with me." Gently, she opened the door, Onward to her usual tasks. Sento sighed a breath of relief
"She sure is scarier than most people ive met..."