Chapter 62: Omen of the Unknown

The first thing his hand touched was my ear. The moment his rough fingers brushed against it, my ear instinctively perked up in response. The overwhelming, pushy aura from earlier had vanished—now, my neck and forehead burned with heat. Every time he touched my ear, my body twitched, and my grip on his clothes tightened.

"...Y’know..."

"Ah, nn... wh-what?"

"I’ve never touched a horse girl’s ears before. Only knew about ’em in theory."

"Nn... h-heh~..."

"So... mind if I keep going? This is kinda fun."

"Mm... s-sure..."

"Then I won’t hold back."

His fingertips traced the grooves of my ear. With every deliberate movement, an indescribable, unfamiliar pleasure surged from the crown of my head down to the base of my skull. The tingling sensation forced strange noises from the back of my throat. But Tomio either didn’t hear or ignored them, muttering to himself like a child tinkering with a complex machine as his fingers explored.

"Always wondered... Apollo’s ears are huge and super expressive. Rice Shower’s are supposed to be big too, but yours are even bigger."

"Hyahn!"

"There’s skin under the fur... Wow, amazing. They say horse girls run hotter than humans, but you’re really warm..."

Though individual differences exist, horse-girl ears are shaped like diagonally split bamboo. They swivel selectively toward sounds and move with startling agility. Their conspicuous, animalistic charm apparently even inspires fetishistic admiration in some men.

Amid my sparking thoughts, I distantly wondered, Is he an ear fetishist? Meanwhile, my ears bounced wildly, delighting the ever-curious trainer.

"Whoa, they’re moving in ways I’ve never seen! Pretty sure horse-girl ears are supported by ten distinct muscles... Wanna test that?"

"Nngh—s-stop!"

"Ah, should I quit?"

"I-It’s not like it bothers me!"

"Oh? Then I’ll keep going."

"Eep!"

As Tomio said, horse-girl ears are supported by over ten muscles. In contrast, human ears have only three—the anterior, superior, and posterior auricular muscles—with weak neural connections, making voluntary movement nearly impossible.

Horse-girl ears, however, are densely innervated, allowing free rotation and precise sound localization. But this sensitivity also makes them far more delicate than human ears. Combined with their status as a species-specific trait, touching them is borderline taboo—even among close friends.

Yet here this man was, probing my ears like a researcher, shameless and relentless. The embarrassment was unbearable... but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to stop. The desire for his touch overpowered my shame, hijacking my thoughts.

"...Way firmer than human ears, with deeper grooves. Unique equine tissue—no, wait, feels like I’m missing something..."

"Ah! Ah!"

His fingers slid along the rim, exploring every fold. His clumsy yet earnest movements betrayed his hunger for knowledge.

"Nyah!"

Pressed, stroked, even the fur inside my ears inspected—his breath grazing the sensitive skin. I buried my face in his chest, ears still erect, enduring the endless, unfamiliar pleasure.

This had to be obscene. Studying someone’s body so intimately crossed lines even lovers might hesitate at. The ticklish warmth pooling in my thighs (not that I’d know) refused to fade. His hands memorized my ears, pinpointing every weakness. To him, it was mere curiosity—to me, something far more charged. The contact of someone I loved.

Humans are strange creatures. Pain can be endured, but pleasure? Once you learn the joy of being touched, cherished, desired—there’s no going back. Whether Apollo Rainbow’s male psyche lingered in me or not, the time we’d shared was inescapable. I was utterly enthralled by him.

Then his thumb and index finger pinched my ear, dragging upward toward the tip. My shoulders jerked, and I shot him a glare. What was he doing? Until now, I’d endured, but this felt less like curiosity and more like teasing. Tears welled as I stared him down.

"Nn—nnnwhat’re you doin’?!"

Finally snapping, I smacked his chest. But instead of recoiling, he gasped sharply and gripped my shoulders.

"—Wait... That’s it! How did I miss this?! The answer might be here. I was just playing around before, but... this could be—"

His eyes burned with the intensity of a revelation. I had no idea what depraved idea had struck him, but I thrashed, trying to shake him off. He held firm.

"S-stop! No more, not yet!"

"No, listen. This is just a theory, but... your body might hold the key to avoiding danger in the unknown."

"Huh…?"

I blinked in confusion, meeting his gaze. Tomio’s eyes were dead serious. I replayed his words in my head. My body holds clues to an unknown frontier? What did that even mean? I urged him on with my eyes. Scratching his cheek, he began carefully choosing his words.

"Ever heard of the horse girl Secretariat?"

"Of course—the legendary American Triple Crown winner, right? But… what does she have to do with my situation now?"

"Actually, maybe a lot. There’s a story about her—"

Tomio launched into his explanation. After winning the first two legs of the Triple Crown—the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness Stakes—Secretariat reportedly felt an odd sensation in her chest just one week before the final race, the Belmont Stakes.

She underwent immediate medical testing. The results showed her heart was over twice the size of an average horse girl’s. It wasn’t congenital—her heart had grown significantly through training and racing. It wasn’t pathological hypertrophy either, so it wasn’t treated as an issue at the time. But later, that extraordinary heart size became known as one of the secrets behind her overwhelming strength.

And then, at the Belmont Stakes, she won by 31 lengths—a margin so vast it defied belief. Her time for the 2400-meter dirt race was 2:24.0, smashing the previous record by over two seconds. Even now, long after her retirement, no one has come close to breaking it.

Sure, if any horse girl could be said to have reached an unknown frontier, it’d be Secretariat. But what did that have to do with touching my body? Just as I opened my mouth to protest, he cut me off.

"And it’s not just Secretariat. Records say Eclipse—another legendary horse girl—also had an unusually large heart."

"Eclipse first, the rest nowhere." A phrase Chairman Symboli Rudolph sometimes quoted. Eclipse was the original untouchable horse girl, the embodiment of that saying.

Accounts vary, but Eclipse’s record stands at 18 wins in 18 races, with one victory leaving the second-place finisher 240 yards—roughly 220 meters—behind. Converted to lengths (where 1 length = 2.4 meters), that’s a staggering 92 lengths. Put bluntly: she was a monster. Even across eras, her name echoes as one who undoubtedly crossed into that unknown frontier.

I hadn’t known about Eclipse’s heart, but if both she and Secretariat shared this trait… Wait—come to think of it, wasn’t Hindostan, the Irish Derby winner, also said to have an enormous heart? No way. I rested my chin on my hand, deep in thought.

Slowly, his point dawned on me. He was suggesting that horse girls who reach the unknown frontier might develop larger hearts. Or perhaps, inversely, their bodies adapt to reach that frontier, triggering extraordinary cardiopulmonary development—something ordinary horse girls could never achieve.

"I think I get it. So… you’re saying my heart might’ve grown too?"

"Not just that. Take Mihono Bourbon—her hindquarters developed abnormally. Or Tokai Teio’s insane flexibility. The heart’s the main focus, but we’d need to examine your whole body to be sure."

Mihono Bourbon, originally a sprinter, became a stamina powerhouse through brutal training. Her hindquarters were freakishly muscular—so much so that her trainer speculated it might’ve been a precursor to her crossing into the unknown frontier, allowing a born sprinter to conquer the stamina-testing Kikuka Sho.

Then there was Tokai Teio, whose flexibility let her kick her legs up to her chest. That unorthodox form caused frequent injuries but also enabled her miraculous comebacks. Tomio mused that her flexibility, too, might’ve been proof of her brushing against that frontier.

"…My theory? Your body might’ve subconsciously prepared itself for the unknown frontier. If we can pinpoint those changes, we’ll have a way forward. If we share this with Agnes Tachyon, we might even find a way to help Silence Suzuka…!"

To understand the unknown, we must sharpen our focus on the known. Whispering this, Tomio began scrutinizing every inch of me.

My last proper physical was before the Derby. The post-summer checkup was just a basic school exam. Cardiac screening? Only at enrollment—nothing in the past year and a half.

"…We’ll go to the hospital tomorrow morning. But we need to check now—the Kikuka Sho’s too close. Agnes Tachyon’s probably in the lab; I’ll report tonight. And as your trainer, I know your body best. So, Apollo… this is a serious request. Will you let me examine you?"

"Ugh…"

Tomio bowed his head, genuinely apologetic. Part of me wanted to sigh and say, "Yeah, yeah, just hurry up and check." But after how insistently he’d fiddled with my horse ears earlier, my brain was already fried. If he touched me more, the mix of embarrassment and other feelings might break me. I could even—no—lose control and attack him.

But more than that… this might be the key to solving the Kikuka Sho dilemma. However much I squirmed, I had to say yes. Swallowing hard, I told myself: This is for the dream. I know the boundaries between a horse girl and her trainer—but today’s an exception. Steeling myself, I stripped off my jersey, standing only in my gym clothes.

"…Be gentle, okay?"

"Of course."

Tomio’s expression flickered between relief and tension—like a man pushed to his limits—but he quickly schooled it back into neutrality, perhaps to keep me from worrying.

"Alright, I’m starting."

"…Mhm."

His fingers first brushed the nape of my neck, where the carotid artery pulsed. Was he checking my heartbeat? His eyes shut, every nerve in his body focused on his fingertips. Watching his brow furrow, I felt my own heart rate spike—just a little. He cares this much about me? The thought sent a pang through my chest. Hopefully, he didn’t notice.

"…………"

After a moment, he reopened his eyes and pressed lightly along my neck.

"…No changes in neck stability…"

His gaze trailed downward, from my shoulders to my arms, then locked onto mine—a silent request for permission. I nodded and extended my arm.

His large hands enveloped mine, spreading my fingers wide. He inspected each digit meticulously, even checking my nail beds. Once satisfied, his attention shifted to my wrist.

"Hya—hah!"

"Did that hurt?"

"N-no, it’s just… ahaha…"

I hadn’t expected my palm to be this ticklish. His thumb tracing my lifeline sent an involuntary sound escaping my throat—a revelation in real time.

He moved on, palpating my wrists and biceps, then testing my elbow’s range of motion. With a shake of his head, he released my arm. No notable changes here, he muttered. Just the usual muscle growth from summer training.

"Next is your heart… but we’ll need tomorrow’s tests for that. No way to eyeball size. Now, turn your leg toward me."

"…Okay."

I peeled off my socks, presenting my bare feet. One hand cradled my Achilles’ tendon while the other skimmed the muscles of my calf with clinical gentleness. As a horse girl, I was used to having my legs handled—but like this? Never.

His calloused fingers mapped the snow-pale canvas of my skin, pressing forward like a traveler tamping down fresh powder, charting known terrain. No matter how toned a horse girl’s muscles were, our skin stayed soft when relaxed.

Marshmallow-soft. Plush under pressure. Did he feel nothing touching a girl like this? Probably not—his focus was purely professional. But as a girl? The contradiction stung.

His hands climbed past my knees, inching toward my thighs. This was the threshold where embarrassment would overpower me. Not that I stood a chance to begin with—this entire ordeal was a one-sided humiliation.

Then, abruptly, his fingers slipped higher—to the back of my thigh. My hindquarters. A zone as sensitive as my ears. A moan I didn’t recognize tore from my throat.

"Ngh…! I’ll pay you back for this later…"

But the cold sweat on his brow told me he’d found something.

"T-this is it…! The precursor to your unknown frontier—no doubt!"

"You found it?"

"Yeah. The muscle density from your hindquarters to your hooves. Invisible to the eye, but obvious to touch. It’s packed tighter than anything I’ve ever felt on you before."

Humans and horse girls relied on three key muscle groups for running: the hamstrings (hind legs), quadriceps (front thighs), and triceps surae (calves)—the very areas he was scrutinizing.

The hamstrings acted as accelerators, generating propulsion by driving against the ground. The calves supported that motion. No athlete—horse girl or human—could afford to neglect them.

"No discomfort before now? No soreness or tension?"

"Mmm… nothing. Didn’t notice in the bath either. Maybe the density built up gradually?"

"Makes sense. This… this is huge. I need to report to Agnes Tachyon."

With a final pat to my head, he strode out of the trainer’s office. I slumped in place, skin still burning, and decided to rest awhile before dragging myself back to the dorm.