Chapter Text
Agnes Digital had been preparing for this day all month.
After countless hours of research into the release patterns of each piece of merchandise, late-night discussions in her online fan circles, begging for her trainer for the day off, and meticulous planning for the most efficient route to the shop, she was ready to get her hands on the latest acrylic charms featuring some of the recently championed Umamusume.
If it all went according to plan, she would arrive before the morning rush and secure herself a full set without incident. This was more than just training for a G1 race against her amazing oshis of her generation. This was far more unforgiving. It was a race against other fans, testing her dedication to Umamusume. She could not let this opportunity slip by her.
While she shared a dorm room with her roommate Agnes Tachyon, she dedicated her own side to the fruits of her devotion. Stacks of manga, figurines of her favorite racers, and posters of various champions adorned the walls. Regardless, she kept her shrine as neat and clean as possible.
For Agnes Digital, this was a small section she wished to dedicate to her oshis, and she refrained from entering the breathing room of the actual umas, serving as a simple fan. A simple, normal fan who came to Tracen Academy solely to get a closer look at the people she deeply admired from a safe, respectful distance.
Her alarm was set to 4:45 AM, a truly unholy hour for any student, but a necessary sacrifice for the hunt. She needed to look presentable, and traffic could easily halt her from being at the forefront of the store. She might be a late surger, but not when it came to this. Last, she made sure to set up a small offering before a trio of statues that sat on her desk.
The Three Goddesses.
It was a plastic figurine someone had 3D-printed online, a small piece of merch she'd bought on a whim. But now, it was her final recourse, a small shrine for her most desperate pleas. She knelt, her knees protesting against the cool floorboards, and clasped her hands together. She hoped they would allow her to get the limited-edition release if her karma was justified.
"Please, Three Goddesses," she whispered to the silent plastic. "Grant me this one wish. Just this once. I've been a good fan. I've supported my oshis, I've bought their merch, I've cheered for them from the stands, I've written positive comments about them online... let me get a hold of this merch!" The small figurines seemed to stare back at her, their painted-on smiles unnerving in the dim light. She closed her eyes, a final, silent plea for divine intervention.
With a sigh, she stood up and gave a glance at everything she had prepped earlier in the week in the right spots. An empty spot in the sea of wall decorations served as a reminder of her test tomorrow.
Sleep came quickly, pulling her into a wonderful dream.
-
Digitan bolted upright in her bed, her heart thrumming against her ribs. What time was it? She set three alarms, each progressively more annoying than the last, and the first one had not yet gone off. But the light filtering through the curtains was already too bright for pre-dawn. A glance at the clock on her nightstand confirmed her fears. 6:17 AM. She was late.
Her heart sank. This was it. This was the end. The limited edition acrylic charms were surely all gone by now, snapped up by more dedicated, more punctual fans. Her perfect plan, her month of research, her desperate prayer to a trio of plastic goddesses—all for naught.
She scrambled out of bed, her bare feet landing on something cool and hard. Something felt unusual about her legs, like they were longer, more powerful. Her center of gravity was off, and she had to steady herself against the wall to keep from toppling over. She rushed to grab her uniform, somewhere, on her side of the room. Where did she put her clothes?
But as she stood up again, she finally took in her surroundings.
This was not her room.
Gone were the stacks of papers for her stories and the collection of Umamusume lining her walls and bedside table. In their place was a more minimalist look, with no posters but a single whiteboard on the opposite wall, covered in a few scribbles and a week's schedule. The air lingered with the scent of lavender and other herbs, a stark contrast to the familiar smell of ink and paper from her own room. Disoriented, Digitan decided to continue on her quest to get dressed and rushed to the bathroom, hoping to wash away the disorientation and get a move on to see if the shop had anything leftover.
Her shuffling around must've alerted her roommate, who she noticed was still in bed.
“Hm? Dober?” The voice was thick with sleep, an American accent cutting through the morning haze.
"Taiki Shuttle?" Digital involuntarily squeaked out. Of course, she knew who she was. The American miler herself is a transfer student, and one with explosive speed to boot. Everyone knew who she was.
Why she was in the same dorm room as her was something else entirely.
“Man… you’re already up? That’s like… super early, but I respect it.” Taiki Shuttle acknowledged her from the other side of the room, rubbing her eyes and yawning loudly enough that it might as well wake their neighboring dormmates. “You got morning training or something? Or is it just… one of those Dober mornings again?”
Digitan didn’t answer.
Her brain caught on one thing and refused to move past it. Did she call her Dober? Her hands flew to her face, her fingers brushing against high cheekbones she didn't recognize. They were smooth, refined—the kind of bone structure that graced magazine covers. This wasn't her face.
Taiki’s gaze landed on Digitan mid-panic. “You got somethin’ on your face?” she said casually, squinting a little. “Like… I don’t think a spider landed there or anything.”
“No, you’re right,” Digitan said automatically as she dropped her hands to her side. Her mind was still processing the situation. “I’m just gonna… go to the bathroom.”
Taiki nodded as if this were a reasonable response. “Cool, cool. Don’t trip like last time, yeah? I think we almost lost our door the last time you faceplanted into it. Before you look at me funny, I promise I did not tell Ryan about it.”
She yawned again, already halfway back into her morning routine, the conversation clearly over in her mind. Digitan didn’t respond. She had already left.
The acrylic charms, the early morning, the desperate prayer—it all faded into the background, replaced by something distant and confusing. As she stumbled towards her destination, her body felt too tall, too balanced, as if it expected her to know how to use it. She entered the bathroom as she gazed at the mirror before her.
The face that looked back was Mejiro Dober’s face. She blinked. Her hand rose slowly into the air before dropping it onto the counter. A single, dark strand of hair fell across her forehead, and she brushed it away.
The mirror did the same.
It was almost as if Mejiro Dober was expecting to see herself in her reflection. Except, she was Agnes Digital, navigating a body that was not her own. She hadn't wanted to be her oshi. She just wanted their merch. She wasn't worthy! But she needed to be respectful if she were to remain in this sacred body. She couldn't just fangirl out; she had to maintain Dober's legendary poise.
Her shoulders shifted back on instinct. Not quite natural. Not quite right. But closer to what she had seen. What she had memorized.
Act like her.
She just needed to relax her body and behave as the real Dober would. Cool, collected. She would do whatever it took to be a respectful fan, even if the situation itself violated many fan codes.
Outside the bathroom, the dorm was already waking up. Distant footsteps. Voices. The normal rhythm of a place that had no idea anything had changed. She took a deep breath before exhaling, and then she marched out of the bathroom, hoping to appear as relatively normal as she could, but even her legs continued to wobble beneath her.
“Hey, your phone went off,” Taiki said upon seeing Digitan again. She was already dressed, her phone in her hand. She glanced over, then pointed towards Digitan’s sleepwear. “Also… you’re not going to breakfast like that, are ya? Pretty sure that’s gonna get you a lecture if Air Groove sees you.”
Digitan jolted as she glanced down, noticing she was without her school outfit. “Oh, right.”
“Anyway, you good? You’re doing the ‘thinking too hard in the morning’ face again.”
"I'm fine," Digitan said, a little too quickly. "I think I stayed up a little too late.”
"Right," Taiki said, drawing out the word. "Well, take care and see you tonight!"
She turned and walked away, leaving Digitan alone with her thoughts and the phone. The door clicked behind her, and Digitan could breathe in peace.
She made her way back to the bed where Dober’s phone lay on the bedside table. The phone's case was simple and gray, devoid of the flashy charms or personalized stickers that decorated Digitan's own device.
The screen lit up, revealing a background of three people: Dober, an older woman, and her trainer. It wasn't uncommon knowledge that Dober had switched trainers before her debut. But it hardly felt like learning a new trivia fact, and more like it was intrusive to glance at this photo.
A notification preview sat beneath it.
Mejiro Ryan: Morning! Where are you? Bright and I are waiting at our usual table. Sent at 6:15 AM.
Of course, Digitan couldn't reply to the text for various reasons. She had no right to unlock someone else’s phone, and no reason to be viewing this conversation. It was a direction, though, and something Digitan could manage to follow until she discovered how she had ended up in this situation. As far as she knew, it was a very elaborate dream.
Placing the phone into her—Dober’s—bag, she headed out of the dorm room.
-
They were already sitting at the table, waiting for her. Ryan and Bright.
It was a sight to behold: two faces she had seen numerous times on broadcasts of notable races. No longer were they distant figures that she would only know on the track, but they were Dober’s close friends. Ryan was mid-sentence, gesturing lightly as she talked, while Bright sat beside her with a grilled carrot held between her fingers like she had forgotten it existed. Observing more than participating.
A part of her wanted to run up to them, to gush about their recent performances, to ask for an autograph. But that wasn't Dober. She tried to channel her inner Dober, the cool, composed racer who faced down the fiercest competition without a flicker of emotion. Dober was well known for the numerous wins she achieved in the Classics. Now, people were seeing her only as a fellow racer simply making her way towards a table with known friends.
"There you are, Dober!" Mejiro Ryan's voice, bright and cheerful, cut through the cacophony. She waved a hand, her smile wide and welcoming. "We were starting to think you overslept. Not like you."
Mejiro Bright looked up next. Her expression was serene, but she was clearly happy to see Dober as well. Her presence was a calming counterpoint to Ryan's effervescent energy. She gave a slight nod, her gaze fixed on Digitan with an intensity that felt like it could see right through her.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Digitan said, carefully lowering herself into the chair opposite them.
"No worries!" Ryan chirped, taking a sip of her juice. "We were just talking about Bright's upcoming race." She nudged her cousin playfully, who blinked slowly in acknowledgment. “She’s been getting grilled by the press again. Same old thing, comparing her to you.”
“Comparing me… to Dober?” It slipped out before Digitan could stop it.
Ryan blinked. She chuckled, believing it to be a joke. “Yeah, you. Who else?”
Digitan corrected herself too quickly. “Right. I mean—me. Media attention has just been… persistent.” She wondered if Bright was competing in the Dream League, if she was still racing after the first three years, but it seemed Dober was roped into it, too.
Ryan tilted her head, her brow furrowed in a look of mild confusion. "You okay, Dober? I thought you promised you wouldn't pull an all-nighter on your art projects again.”
Art project? Dober had an art project? The image was so bizarre, with the cool, untouchable racer persona Digitan had built up in her head, that it made her head spin. For a split second, she pictured Dober hunched over a canvas, her intense focus channeled into something other than running.
“It’s nothing. Just a long night.” Digitan waved a hand, hoping the excuse would be enough to satisfy Ryan.
Ryan didn’t look entirely convinced, and before she could press further, a chair slid in, the sound surprising the trio. Another figure appeared at their table, dropping a bag right next to Digitan.
“Mornin’, Ryan, Bright.” Taiki casually said as she eyeballed Digitan. “Silly Dober! You forgot your bag. You were lucky I had to go back into the dorm, and I kept hearing your phone go off.”
Digitan accepted the bag, then placed the strap over her shoulder so it wouldn’t escape her again. It felt heavier, but she wasn’t going to dig through it to see the contents when there was more at hand.
“I know you have a lot on your mind right now.” Ryan’s voice was softer. “Classic year is rough when you have so much to prove, especially when you’re carrying the Mejiro name. Just remember, you have us to share the burden.”
The sincerity in Ryan's voice was a physical blow. It was a level of intimacy and vulnerability she had only ever dreamed of, a peek behind the carefully constructed public facade of the Mejiro family.
"I... appreciate that."
Bright, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally spoke. Her voice was soft, but it carried a weight that commanded attention. "Dober, your posture is off." Her gaze was direct, her eyes scanning Digitan's borrowed form with an unnerving precision. "You're really stiff. Like a doll.”
"She's right," Taiki chimed in, leaning against the table. "You're all tensed up. Like you're about to run a race right here in the cafeteria. Loosen up, Dober. You're making me nervous just lookin' at you."
Digitan tried to comply on instinct, forcing her shoulders down and easing her posture. It did not take Bright’s gaze off of her, though.
“You were late today,” she continued after a small pause. “You’re usually one of the earliest here. Did something interesting happen?”
Ryan blinked at this, but she shrugged. “Maybe she’s just tired.”
“Maybe,” Bright said simply. She returned to eating her grilled carrot, though it must be cold by this point.
"I'm fine," Digitan insisted. "...I think I left something else in the dorm."
"Alright," Ryan said, her brow furrowed with concern. "But don’t be gone too long, or breakfast will get cold."
"I won't," Digitan said too quickly.
She stood, her chair scraping against the floor with a jarring screech. She gave a stiff, awkward bow—too formal, too sharp, nothing like Dober. "Excuse me."
-
Digitan walked out of the cafeteria in a blur, ignoring the rise and fall of conversations behind her. For a moment, she almost convinced herself she could think clearly. She had to remind herself: how would a cool and calm Umamusume like Dober handle this situation? Surely, Dober seemed like the type to handle things perfectly well, given how she handled everything on camera.
Dober would not let anything faze her, not even a bizarre situation like bodyswapping into someone she did not know.
And trying to act like that person.
The revelation hit her like a truck.
If she were in Dober’s body, it meant that Dober would be stuck in her body in turn. She needed to find her real body so she could find some kind of explanation as to what was happening. She had to find her. She needed to fix this.
The thought propelled her into motion. She pushed herself off the wall and broke into a run, her long legs eating up the distance that should have felt natural. Her strides were too long, her pace uneven, a clumsy, lurching gait that was a far cry from the fluid grace she'd seen on the track.
A part of her wondered how she could interact with Dober, a beloved oshi in her eyes, for her strength in the races she ran. Digitan was simply an observant fan, but she would do her best to work with her to address this sudden situation.
Her own dorm building came into view, Ritto dormitory. The building stood tall, and many umamusume did not return to their dorm until after practice or a club activity. She approached the dorm before entering, finding it nearly the same as before, with some things shifted around. She didn't have any roommates besides Tachyon, but the dorm had a small common room area that was often used for studying. As she walked through the halls, her ears pricked forward as a familiar voice called out.
"Mejiro Dober? What brings you to the Ritto dorm?" It was Fuji Kiseki, her dorm leader, who looked over at her with a calm expression. She was sitting at one of the tables that Digitan had not noticed in her panic. "Are you looking for someone?"
Digitan skidded to a halt, her borrowed shoes squeaking on the polished floor. Fuji Kiseki's presence was an unexpected complication. She was known for her sharp eyes and even sharper intuition, the kind of person who noticed when a single book was out of place on a shelf.
“You’re from Miho dorm, aren’t you? Did you take a wrong turn somewhere?” She offered a small, knowing smile, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. “Long night of training?”
"Something like that," Digitan managed. She hoped it would pass for a fatigued murmur.
Fuji's gaze lingered for a moment longer, a thoughtful, considering look that made Digitan feel like a specimen under a microscope. "Then you should rest when you can. These halls get quiet at this hour, and it’s easy to get turned around.”
Digitan took one glance at the hallway where her dorm would be. Nobody seemed to be around. Let alone any nameplates there.
Empty.
“If you’re lost, I can take you back to the main building," Fuji Kiseki hummed, giving her an out. But the door to her room was still closed. Still empty. She was patient, but hesitation or questions could arouse suspicion.
Digitan didn’t answer immediately. She looked at the door one last time. Then forced herself to look away. For the first time that morning, she didn’t try to correct anything. Not her posture. Not her voice. Not the situation.
“…Sure,” she said quietly.
Fuji Kiseki had already begun walking.
Digitan followed.