Legally speaking, I’m a centaur. Well, a half-centaur. My mother was one, and my father was a particularly adventurous human who decided to get together with one when monster girls were revealed to the public. Ballsy bastard. Honestly, I try to avoid thinking about the whole insemination and birth thing—the logistics behind it. I’m a half-centaur, and that’s that. You’d never know it by looking at me, though. I’ve got the top half of a human, and bottom half of a human—basically human in everything but name.
Right now, I'm gripping the cold metal railing of this small boat, watching the island grow closer. I can feel the bureaucratic red tape wrapped tightly around my scrotum, but all I can do is look ahead while the salty mist occasionally sprays my face. It’s been so long, yet the human and monster girls remain separate. The planned integration—like all political actions—moves at a crawl. Sure, there are some centaurs serving in the army, and marriage was legalized, but the educational system? Still segregated.
“Are you sure you want me to drop you off?” The boat’s captain asks me, peeking from behind his steering wheel. He has the face of somebody who would much rather sail across the pacific with a crew but knows that the government job of bringing supplies to the island pays well. “I only come to the academy once every two weeks unless there is an emergency.” Reaching into his coat, I almost expected him to take out a pipe just to find a simple cigarette between his fingers. “You’ll be on your own, kid.”
I glance back at him, catching the flicker of his lighter. The wind snatches the smoke almost as soon as it leaves his lips. “My father was clear: either this, the military, or the salt mine.”
The academy looms ahead—a sharp silhouette against the horizon. It looks like a fortress more than a school: dark gray stone walls and tall, spiked fences. At its entrance there is a gate which is much too grand and ornate than it needs to be, almost as if they are worried someone—something—would try breaking out.
“You might be better off in the mine, then.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I mutter, squinting at the pier. “Besides, if Minister Yasuda wins the next election…”
“She does have 100% endorsement…of the 6% Monster Girl minority.” The boat bumps against the dock with a dull thud as the captain flicks his cigarette into the water, offering me a stiff nod. “But suit yourself. Good luck, kid."
Once I step onto dry land, something tells me that the captain will beeline it back to the civilization. I would hate to be stranded here for 14 days without all my things ready. I pat down my pockets, my heart calming down only once I brush past the wallet.
Looking through the student ID with my mug on it, it reads…