Homeroom at Shibara High always started with chaos.
Today, a kangaroo boy was bouncing between desks trying to grab his breakfast bar midair. A peacock girl scribbled frantically into her planner with six different color pens. Meanwhile, the morning announcements buzzed through the intercom—cheer squad tryouts, a fundraiser for endangered scale species, and a warning about graffiti in the art wing. Typical.
Noah Wilde sat near the back, sketching idly in his notebook. Mr. Rento, their panda homeroom teacher, waddled in with a steaming thermos and sunglasses even though the classroom lighting was dim.
> “Today’s lesson,” Rento announced, “is adaptability. Pop quiz, fifteen minutes. No questions. Good luck.”
Groans erupted. A snake-boy slithered off his seat dramatically. The otter twins in the front whispered curses. Noah stared at his paper. He hadn’t studied. Again. But something felt different. Yesterday, he would’ve panicked. Today… he flipped the page and started sketching instead.
From across the room, Eli caught his eye and smiled. Noah’s heart thumped.
> *“He sees me. Here, in daylight.”*
After class, lockers rattled and paws shuffled. The school smelled faintly of fur product and cafeteria pineapple curry. Students spilled into the quad, the air full of gossip and tail swishes.
Noah walked side by side with Eli, their matching paw-print club pins catching the sun.
> “You coming to Cosplay Workshop later?” Eli asked. “Saki’s working on a space-themed theme. I might do glow-in-the-dark claw paint.”
> “I haven’t finished my lunar raccoon hoodie yet,” Noah replied.
> “That sounds... kinda epic.”
They passed a bulletin board smothered in glitter. A flyer caught Noah’s eye:
**LGBTQ Anthro Open Mic Night — This Friday
Theme: 'Unmasked'**
His stomach flipped.
> “Think I should read something?” he asked.
Eli nodded. “Something honest.”
Suddenly, the hallway split. A group of fox girls in matching skirts stepped in their way. At the center: Aria, sharp-eyed and sugar-voiced.
> “Oh look, the sketch squirrel and his secret boyfriend,” she cooed. Her tail curled mockingly. “Tell me, Wilde, do your drawings come with instructions? Or do you just fantasize and hope someone gets it?”
Noah didn’t answer.
But Eli did.
> “Careful, Aria,” he said, calm and cutting. “Some fantasies become art. Some art becomes power.”
Aria blinked, thrown off, and strutted away with her pack.
> “That was smooth,” Noah muttered.
> “I rehearsed it,” Eli whispered. “In my head. Every time someone tries to throw shade.”
They ducked into the art wing. Posters lined the walls—student drawings, poetry, collages made from tail trimmings and feather sheds. Mr. Sagawa, a lizard in a paint-splattered coat, waved from his studio.
Noah loved this space. It smelled like ink and possibilities.
Later, in the club room, Saki introduced a new member—Rio, a bashful lynx-boy with round glasses and glowing orange fur.
> “I’m new. I’m... also gay. And a furry,” he said. “I’ve got anxiety. But I want to be here.”
The group applauded softly. Rio smiled like he’d just won a battle.
Noah scribbled into his notebook:
> *“Chapter idea: Shy lynx finds his roar.”*
He looked up. Eli was watching.
> “That’ll make a great story,” Eli said.
Noah didn’t just feel seen. He felt real.
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