Sympho-Unite (Conjoinment TF)

The SONG headquarters’ medical wing felt unusually calm for a checkup day. Seven chairs had been arranged in a loose semicircle, each occupied in its own way. Hibiki and Miku sat side by side, their conversation light and constant, Hibiki’s hands moving animatedly as she tried to make a point. Chris leaned against the edge of a counter nearby, arms crossed, her expression tight as she answered them in short, clipped bursts.

A few seats away, Tsubasa had retreated behind the pale shield of an open book, eyes scanning each page with the same disciplined focus she brought to her blade work. Maria, meanwhile, stood with Shirabe in the corner, her posture elegant even here, speaking in quiet tones. Shirabe nodded along politely, her attention half on the conversation and half on Kirika beside her, who was contentedly demolishing a chocolate bar in small, eager bites.

It was an ordinary moment,  the kind of tableau that passed unnoticed during routine days. Elfnein’s absence was the only mild irregularity, though no one seemed particularly concerned. The air hummed with fluorescent light, and the faint scent of antiseptic hung in the space between idle voices.

The door opened with the soft click of a latch. In stepped a young woman none of them had seen before, dark-skinned, her orange hair pulled into neat, deliberate layers, and a black-and-white doctor’s coat falling around her in clean lines. She carried no clipboard, no medical kit, yet her presence was as smooth and certain as if she’d always belonged here.

“Good afternoon,” she said, her voice warm, almost casual. “I’ll be your supplementary checkup doctor for today. The name is Nagisa Fulkami, it's very nice to meet you all.”

Seven pairs of eyes turned toward her. No alarm, just mild curiosity. Tsubasa lowered her book and regarded her for a moment. “I don’t recall seeing you here before. Are you new?”

“You could say that,” the woman replied with a small, confident smile. “It will be my first check up of Symphogear users too, so please go easy on me.”

That was all. There was a bit of awkward giggle, but also a lot of understanding. Everyone’s gotta start somewhere. The girls accepted it without further thought, waiting for the new doctor to tell them what to do.

“Alright then,” she said lightly, “if you’ll all follow me.”

No one questioned it at first. The shuffle of footsteps and quiet chatter carried down the hall as the group trailed behind her. Hibiki and Miku walked side by side; Chris and Tsubasa kept a more measured pace. Maria, however, eventually glanced up at their surroundings, the direction wasn’t toward the medical wing at all.

“Wait,” Maria said, her voice cutting through the murmur of the group. “Why are we heading this way? The checkup room is in the opposite wing.”

Nagisa didn’t slow. “That’s because,” she answered easily, “in addition to your regular checkup, you’ll also be having a little exercise in unity today.”

That earned her a few skeptical looks, Chris tilted her head sharply, Tsubasa’s brow drew faintly together, but they kept following.

The hall opened into the training facility, a vast space whose false skyline stretched high above them, complete with imitation streets, buildings, and the faint echo of a city’s ambiance piped through hidden speakers.

Nagisa stepped ahead, turning to face them as they entered. “If you’re ready,” she said, her voice bright again, “I’ll examine and test you all at once.”

There was a ripple of confusion. Hibiki frowned but moved into position; Miku hesitated, shifting her weight uneasily. “I’m… not sure I’m up for this,” Miku murmured, brushing at her new gear straps.

Hibiki offered her a quick grin. “You’ll be fine. I’m here.”

Nagisa let that moment pass before adding, almost as an afterthought, “One more stipulation for this examination.”

From the shadow of her coat, she drew a book, black as wet ink, its edges shimmering faintly as though they refused to be caught by the light. She opened it to a blank page, the nib of her pen poised above it.

She seemingly took some notes, quite a lot of them. Writing down something that seemingly had all of the girls on edge. Before finally saying: “Don’t let your butts touch each other.”

It was a strange, ominous warning, one that drew puzzled glances all around. No one understood it, not yet. But they would very soon.

Hibiki tilted her head at the strange instruction. “Why that weird restriction?”

Kirika snorted, the sound almost a giggle. “That usually doesn’t happen anyway. I think we’re safe.”

Nagisa’s smile curved in a way that wasn’t quite reassuring. “Are you sure about that?” she asked, already stepping toward Miku.

Before anyone could question her further, she reached out and with a casual, almost absentminded motion, she nudged Miku’s shoulder. Miku stumbled sideways with a surprised noise, but Hibiki’s reflexes caught her instantly, arms going around her.

All seemed fine… except for where their hips met.

Nagisa could see it immediately, the faint shimmering along the seam of their bodies. Hibiki’s and Miku’s gears wrinkled strangely at the contact point, as if the fabric were caught in something tacky. They tried to step apart, but their hips refused to separate.

Hibiki’s brow furrowed. Miku’s hands pressed against her friend’s shoulders, but the more they pulled, the closer their bodies seemed to draw together. The seam widened. Skin and muscle at their sides softened, losing its definition, and the subtle curves of two waists began to blur into one.

It was slow at first, enough for panic to register, but then the pull became stronger, drawing them hip to hip until the curve of one bled seamlessly into the curve of the other. Nagisa watched as their thighs shifted, aligning perfectly, then sank together as though made of warm wax pressed under steady hands. Their legs thickened as they fused, length stretching to match the balance of the new form.

The swell of their shared hips widened, their combined buttock taking on the full, rounded weight of both girls at once, fabric straining to contain it. Above, the merge crept upward, pulling their torsos flush until even their shoulders melded, the seam vanishing under a smooth, continuous span of skin. It was starting to get really hard to tell where which girl's body started and ended.

Nagisa’s gaze lingered as their chests reshaped, Hibiki’s and Miku’s separate pairs of breasts dissolving into a single, fuller set, larger, rounder, the combined weight settling naturally on their unified ribcage.

Arms found new order: two on the left, two on the right, their musculature knitting seamlessly into a single broad back. And finally, the last distinction, their necks remained, but their heads rested side by side atop the new shoulders, like a two-headed statue carved from a single block.

It was done. One body where there had been two, breathing in perfect rhythm, four hands clenching and unclenching in bewilderment.

The rest of the team could only stare. Chris frozen mid-step, Maria’s lips parting soundlessly, Shirabe standing stock-still beside a wide-eyed Kirika. And even Tsubasa’s eyes became very wide.

Hibiki and Miku turned their heads toward each other, eyes wide with mirrored confusion, both asking the same question. “What just happened?”

Nagisa closed her notebook, and smirked. The examination had just begun.

Chris was the first to shatter the stunned silence. Her hands snapped to her sides, pulling free a pair of rockets in a single practiced motion. “That’s it—!” she barked, hurling them straight at Nagisa.

Nagisa stepped lightly aside, the twin blasts tearing past her with a concussive whump. The heat licked at her coat’s hem, but she didn’t break stride.

“Listen up, everyone!” Chris shouted over the echo. “Whatever that was, we have to take her down before it happens again!”

“Exactly,” Tsubasa’s voice cut in, her blade already drawn. A shockwave slash split the air, passing so close to Nagisa’s cheek she could feel the pressure shift. “Don’t get careless!”

“What even was that?” Maria demanded, glancing back at Hibiki and Miku, now awkwardly shuffling in uneven half-steps, four arms flailing to keep balance.

“No idea!” Kirika’s voice rang out from above. She’d leapt into the air, twin scythe-blades gleaming as they spun down toward Nagisa. “But I know what we can do!”

Shirabe was already with her, hair-extensions whipping out, each tipped with a roaring chainsaw. Together they came in from opposite angles, a coordinated pincer strike.

Nagisa slid between the falling arcs of Kirika’s blades, the air humming with their passing. She dipped under the second swing with a dancer’s ease, then caught Shirabe’s forearm mid-spin. The girl’s momentum fed straight into Nagisa’s grip, and with a smooth pivot she flung her bodily across the room.

Shirabe twisted in midair, retracting her blades just in time to avoid skewering her partner—

—unfortunately, she didn’t avoid her partner entirely. The collision sent both tumbling across the floor in a tangled heap. When they came to a stop, it was back-to-back… no, hip-to-hip.

Nagisa saw the moment realization hit them. The instant their lower halves pressed together, their gear plating seemed to ripple, edges softening like wax under a flame. Kirika grunted and pushed, Shirabe tried to twist free, but their hips only seemed to sink into each other’s, the seam tightening with every heartbeat.

“Oh no~” Nagisa giggled under her smile. “It seems like a second pair is about to be locked in.”

Kirika’s first instinct was to keep moving. Even hip-locked to Shirabe, she twisted and shoved, forcing the both of them upright in a clumsy stagger.

“Come on—! We can still—” she started, only to have Shirabe hiss back, “Kirika, our hips—!”

It was already too late. Nagisa could see the faint glimmer crawling along the seam where their armor met, light rippling through it like water through glass. The two girls lunged together in one last coordinated leap, their scyth and hair saw ready to strike…

…but the moment their feet left the floor, the pull between them intensified. Their thighs pressed tight, gear plating deforming with a soft, almost liquid give. Midair, they were already losing their range of motion; Shirabe’s chainsaws veered wide, Kirika’s scythes dipped short.

They hit the ground badly. What should have been a graceful landing turned into a stumbling lurch, legs tangling. Their hips refused to separate, and the shock of the impact only mashed them closer.

The fusion spread downward first, their muscles and armor flowing together like molten metal cooling into a single cast. Their thighs thickened, lengthening to keep the shared frame upright. Each second stretched them taller, their legs becoming a single pair built from the mass of both girls.

Kirika gasped as her center of gravity shifted wildly, while Shirabe grabbed at her partner’s shoulder for stability. Behind them, the swell of their shared rear was ballooning outward, each heartbeat adding more curve, more weight, until it dwarfed what either had carried alone. The fabric of their gear strained, hugging a shape that no longer belonged to two separate fighters.

They tried to fight it, Kirika planting their new, unsteady legs for another attack, Shirabe spinning her hair-extensions forward, but the imbalance was too much. Every motion pulled one off-balance and yanked the other along with it.

Above the waist, their armor plates creaked as the seam between their spines began to vanish. Shoulder to shoulder, they were pressed so tightly their breaths synced without thought. Their chests drew together and merged, modest compared to the vast curve of their new hips, but undeniably one.

The final pull came quickly. Their ribs knit, their backs smoothed, and any distinction between two torsos was erased, save for the fact that their necks remained separate, two heads now sharing the same broad, firmly planted body.

Kirika panted, cheeks flushed. Shirabe’s eyes were wide, calculating. Both seemed to know, at last, that fighting was out of the question. Even standing still required cooperation now, the slightest shift in weight sending the whole shared frame swaying.

Nagisa smiled at the pack, watching their realization settle in. The second pair was complete.

Chris’ voice cut sharply through the chaos. “It’s looking bad! She is strong!”

Tsubasa’s blade flashed as she shifted into guard. “We can’t underestimate her!”

Maria opened her mouth, “How about—”

Nagisa’s tone slid in smoothly, cutting across the tension like a warm knife. “There’s too much malice in this room. How about we all just give each other a big hug~?”

Before anyone could react, she was suddenly there, her coat brushing against them as she wrapped her arms around all three at once. It made no sense, there had been distance between them a moment ago, but now her embrace pulled them together in a tight press of armor, hips, and thighs.

She held them for only a few seconds, smiling faintly… then stepped back.

The damage was already done.

Chris’ eyes widened as she felt the tacky, immovable pull at her hips. Tsubasa tried to step back, only to yank Maria along with her. Armor warped where they touched, seams blurring and softening. In seconds, the three were drawn hip to hip, thigh to thigh, their lower halves knitting into a single pillar of flesh and gear.

Their legs grew in length and power, reshaping to carry the combined mass. The swell of their shared hips spread wide, balancing a rear that matched the size of the other merged pairs and then some.

Upward, the fusion jumped to their torsos, armor plates flowing together like liquid steel cooling into a single cast. Three distinct ribcages pulled flush into one shared chest, broad enough to carry three rounded breasts in a neat, slightly curved row.

Six arms twitched and adjusted into symmetry, Three to each side, the musculature knitting seamlessly. And above it all, their three heads remained, Chris scowling, Tsubasa rigid, Maria’s lips set in a thin line, each perfectly aware that they now stood as one.

For a moment, the room was filled only with the faint hum of the simulated cityscape. No one moved.

Chris broke the silence first, her voice edged with both annoyance and bafflement. “What was the point of that? I mean, yeah, you won, but… what did you even win?”

Nagisa tilted her head, the corners of her mouth curling upward. “I got to see cute girls becoming more unified,” she said, her tone almost childishly proud.

“By… fusing us?” Tsubasa’s disbelief was plain, her gaze darting between the others.

“Yup,” Nagisa replied flatly, as if the answer were self-evident.

“I mean,” Hibiki said, her expression thoughtful despite the absurdity, “it’s not really the traditional sense, but we are closer now…”

That earned her a collective round of groans and eye rolls from every head in the room.

“Hey! Come on!” Hibiki protested. “It could be worse! She could have fused all of us together into one, you know!”

“Yes,” Nagisa said simply.

Before Hibiki or anyone else could respond, she was suddenly beside Hibiki-Miku, her hand resting lightly against their shoulder. One push, gentle, but enough to make them stumble.

“I could have,” she continued, stepping away without hurry.

She appeared next to Kirika-Shirabe in the blink of an eye, delivering another casual shove. They staggered in unison.

“Wouldn’t that be something.”

The next instant she was behind Chris-Maria-Tsubasa, both hands pressing firmly at their back. The triple-headed body rocked forward, balance thrown, until they too stumbled back…

…straight into the others.

Hips met hips in a domino of contact, the merged pairs toppling into a heap with their massive shared rears pressed firmly together in a single, unbroken ring of contact.

Nagisa smiled down at the pile, her fingers already curling around her pen.

“Hibiki, you moron!” Chris’s voice barked from somewhere in the tangle.

And then the tugging began again.

From where Nagisa stood, she could see the shift ripple outward, an almost liquid pull, the boundaries between merged pairs dissolving like ink in water. The vast, powerful legs of Kirika-Shirabe and Hibiki-Miku began to flow, their mass sliding and knitting seamlessly into the towering lower half of Chris-Maria-Tsubasa.

Length first, thighs stretching to impossible proportions, calves elongating to match, every inch of them thickening in proportion. The legs swelled wider with each passing breath, reality itself seeming to strain to accommodate the sheer size.

And with each new measure of length and girth, their shared hips expanded in kind. The swell of their combined rear surged outward, the flesh and armor reshaping into a single monumental curve. Kirika-Shirabe’s compact, athletic build and Hibiki-Miku’s fuller frame were swallowed into the mass, feeding it until it loomed even larger than the triple’s original bulk.

The connection deepened, their merged butts no longer belonged to separate lower bodies at all. One colossal pelvis now anchored all three torsos, each shift in weight sending a subtle tremor through the entire structure.

Above, the fusion leapt to their chests. Every breast they had, Hibiki-Miku’s unified pair, Kirika-Shirabe’s modest set, and the trio’s three in a row, began to swell. Rounder, heavier, their curves grew far beyond the size of their own heads, the sheer weight pulling at their new shared frame. Seven in total, each one impossibly full, straining against stretched gear fabric.

The pull finished its work in a matter of moments. The seams between torsos were smooth now, nothing left but three great columns of upper body rising from a single titanic base.

Hibiki and Miku’s twin heads shared one set of shoulders on the left, Chris-Maria-Tsubasa’s three heads crowned the central trunk, and Kirika-Shirabe’s two rested on the right. Seven minds, three torsos, fourteen arms, one reality-defying lower half.

They had become something no one in the room could have imagined, and Nagisa, closing her notebook with quiet satisfaction, seemed the only one entirely unsurprised.

“Examination complete,” Nagisa declared, her voice crisp and professional as she scribbled a few lines on what now appeared to be a perfectly ordinary progress report.

The seven-headed mass behind her was anything but orderly—arms flailing, torsos twisting in disagreement, voices overlapping in a mess of protest and argument. None of them seemed to be paying her the slightest attention anymore.

“With that,” she added brightly, snapping the folder shut, “I am off! See you in the next exam.”

She strolled toward the door without a hint of hurry, stepping neatly past Genjurou as he walked in.

“Hey girls, I thought it was an examination day, not a…” His voice trailed off as his eyes tracked upward, then downward, taking in the colossal, reality-defying amalgamation that filled most of the training room. “…training day…”

There was a long beat where he simply stared, his mouth slightly open. “…What happened?”

Chris let out a long, suffering sigh. “I think we fell for a fake doctor’s trick, got fused, and then Hibiki made things even worse.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Hibiki protested immediately, twisting to glare at Chris, which only made the entire shared body shift awkwardly to one side.

“Uh-huh,” Chris deadpanned.

And just like that, the argument was back in full swing, seven voices competing for dominance, all anchored to the same gigantic hips. If nothing else, they were now united.

In the most literal way possible.

—

Unification and Teamwork are two very different things.