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"So you wore a dress? Big deal. That's not gonna make you any less of a boy, right?" Even as Suzuya spoke they seemed unsure. Like they had no idea what they were talking about. And, well… they didn't. And that was okay.
To be fair, Tooru had never expected the training sessions to become frequent. He'd never expected to become friends with Suzuya. If that was even what they could call themselves. They'd been meeting somewhat regularly, making attempts to better Tooru's knife skills. Sort of succeeding. Not especially. Suzuya didn't seem to mind much. After about half an hour they'd just lie down on the mat, splay their arms out, and declare that they were done for the day.
Today was their fourth— maybe fifth— lesson. Suzuya was already sitting on the mat, twirling their knife idly between their fingers. Tooru set his knives aside carefully, and he sat cross-legged in front of Suzuya. Since the first lesson, he'd learned a few things about how to go about this training thing. First of all, none of Tooru's clothes were suitable for this sort of thing. Eventually he bought comfortable sweat pants and a breathable shirt. Secondly, binders were bad for exercising. He hadn't realized it, but when he'd returned home after that first lesson, his chest had become rather bruised. It ended up being fine with his accelerated healing and all, but he decided not to risk it a second time. Thirdly, Suzuya was too knife happy to trust with actual knives. They were now training with rubber blades.
He was pretty sure Suzuya didn't really get it. As much as he wanted to believe Suzuya was trans, they never really admitted to anything, and they still used masculine pronouns. Tooru wasn't judging— after all, it wasn't as if he was openly trans.
When they did talk about being transgender, it was mostly Suzuya asking really personal questions. It sort of made Tooru uncomfortable, but again, he couldn't really blame Suzuya. It was just difficult. Suzuya was difficult. Like, Tooru didn't know how to act or how to speak when confronting Suzuya, so he just tried to take everything as calmly and openly as possible.
"What?" Suzuya peered at him, their already intensely large eyes widening. They leaned forward, handling the toy knife carelessly. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No," Tooru said gently. "It's just… it's complicated."
"Tell me," Suzuya insisted. They were pouting now. Tooru tried not to smile, because whenever Suzuya pouted their cheeks blew out, and they looked a bit like an impudent child trying to hold their breath until they got their way.
"It's not really the wearing the dress part that bothered me," he explained. "It's more… well, it's the looks I was getting."
"What do you mean?"
Tooru exhaled sharply. Suzuya was still leaning forward, as curious as ever, and he knew he couldn't just avoid talking about it.
"I mean people were looking at me funny." Tooru winced, and he shrunk back a little. He felt the weight of Suzuya's gaze. They were absorbing every little move he made, and he knew it. "Guys were looking at me funny. I didn't like it."
"You could've beaten 'em up easy!" Suzuya shook their head, their hair fluttering around them like thick black feathers. "You shouldn't let anyone scare you. That's why we're doing this, right? So you don't have to be scared of being useless, or whatever."
Useless, Tooru thought bitterly. Yep, that's it. That's exactly it. I'm useless.
"I was undercover," Tooru sighed. "I wouldn't have been able to do anything even if I wanted to. And…" Tooru didn't want to mention the whole getting drunk thing. That had been painfully embarrassing. "And men are so awful toward women! I felt like I was bait dangling on a hook!"
"Bait for what?" Suzuya made a weird face, his nose and lips pinching. "Ghouls?"
"No, Suzuya, I mean like…" Tooru stopped himself. "Well, actually, yeah, we were all using ourselves as ghoul bait, but that's not… really what I meant."
"What do you mean then?" They huffed, tapping the rubber knife against the mat beneath them. "I can't follow what you're saying when you're closing up like that."
"I don't know how to explain it," he gasped, leaning back in alarm. How do they not know these things?
Suzuya made a soft choking noise, like a scoff and a cough, and their arm shot out, blurring through the air. Tooru only had a second to react, and he quickly threw up both his arms to block the strike to his jugular. Suzuya's arm smashed into him, and he wobbled, half spilling over the mat from the pressure. He rolled onto his side, still holding off Suzuya's arm, the rubber knife tickling the pressure point beneath his ear. He kicked Suzuya in the shoulder, and they were forced to stop their attack as they flopped back on their butt.
"Owie," they uttered vacantly. As they always did when Tooru landed a hit. Sometimes he felt like they were mocking him.
"I really don't know how to explain it to you, Suzuya," Tooru said, rolling onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling, and thought about the sickened, shaky feeling he'd gotten while pretending to be a girl. Or… dressing as a girl… or… eh. Whatever. That squirming dissonance that started in his belly and crawled up to his chest, squeezing his heart and lungs. That was the worst. Not being able to breathe easily, not being able to think without the constant fear of the stares, the awful stares, as though everyone around him could see through him, knew that he was a boy with the body of a girl acting like a girl and nullifying everything he'd worked so hard to protect.
Sometimes he doubted himself. Maybe he wasn't a boy after all. Maybe it was all just in his head.
But he couldn't bear the thought of being a girl. It wasn't even the clothes. It wasn't the femininity that bothered him. It was the pressure he felt, the feeling of everyone around him tuning in to his every solitary movement, judging the actions, preying on the insecurities, waiting for him to slip up, to become a parody of himself.
He just couldn't deal with it. He didn't want to be a girl. He wanted to be a boy. But this world made it so hard for him to just… live normally as a man. There were so many complications. Social issues. People didn't like the things they couldn't relate to, couldn't explain, and Tooru felt trapped in the eye of society where he could not be classified as a boy because of sex and he could not be classified as a girl because of gender.
And all the while, the world just kept turning without him. Nobody had time to mull over his gender issues. No one took the time to think. That was how the dial turned, and that was how it left him jostled and confused, perpetually stuck feeling that he did not belong anywhere.
At least as a boy he could feel some sense of comfort. Relief.
So what was he supposed to say?
"I just want to understand," Suzuya said, crawling up to Tooru's side. Their face floated above him, round and pale and gaping. Their hair swam around their delicate features, and Tooru wondered how they felt. What their story was. Why they were the way they were.
"Sorry," Tooru mumbled. "I guess I'm not all that reliable."
"But you know things," Suzuya said eagerly. "You know way more than anyone else— nobody's ever told me the stuff you've told me. Is it a big secret, or something?"
"Well…" Tooru sighed. "No. Like I said, it's not that uncommon to be transgender, but… people don't like to talk about it."
"Why?"
"It makes them uncomfortable."
"Well, what about you?" Suzuya asked sharply. They were still leaning over him, their face hovering and blotting out the ceiling. "What about what makes you comfortable? What about that?"
"I don't know, Suzuya. Sometimes they care. Usually they don't. It's the kind of thing people avoid because they… don't know how to address it… I guess."
Suzuya made a loud, absurd whining noise. They were basically saying they didn't get it. Tooru didn't blame them. He wasn't exactly being very helpful.
"I'm sorry," Tooru said quietly as Suzuya rocked backwards and flopped down beside him.
"You're annoying," Suzuya declared. Tooru flinched. "All you do is say "sorry, sorry". Stop doing that. You know how many people are gonna take advantage of that? You apologizing, all jittery and squeaky? Stop that. You'll never be any good in a fight if you're all like "sorry, sorry" every time you make a move!"
"I don't apologize that much!"
"Well, whatever!" They huffed, their limbs flailing a bit. Tooru winced when their hand grazed his cheek, a soft little slap that did not register to them. "You get the point, right? You're just a big ball of nervousness. And you hardly ever speak up. Especially for yourself." They turned their face so their cheek was resting against the mat, and they were gazing at Tooru intently. He didn't want to look. Suzuya's eyes were a little too eerie. Sometimes when Tooru looked into them, it reminded him of looking into the mirror without his eyepatch. They were reminiscent of the gleam of a kakugan. "You should've told Haise how you felt before you went undercover."
"But…" Tooru shifted uneasily, and he folded his hands against his stomach. "I mean, it ended up being a good thing. I got the information we needed."
"Yeah, yeah, it was impressive," Suzuya said. "But it's bothering you now, and it bothered you then, and it's probably gonna keep bothering you because you're just that type of person."
"Excuse me?" Tooru's eyes flashed to theirs, and he frowned. What was Suzuya doing judging him? "What type of person do you mean?"
"The goody-goody anxious type," they yawned, stretching their arms back. Tooru heard their shoulder sockets pop, which was probably satisfactory to them, but it only made Tooru more nervous. "All you want to do is please, please, please. You're boring, Mutsuki."
He couldn't respond. He couldn't deny it.
And Suzuya was just… staring at him. Expectantly. Tooru had to remind himself that they were older, that they weren't a child, that they were a superior— a famed one at that. He had to remind himself that they were stronger than even Sasaki. That they deserved his respect and admiration.
But there was just something faltering within him. Suzuya didn't treat him like he was an underling. They didn't even treat him like Sasaki treated him, like a younger brother that needed guidance. Suzuya was singularly unique in that they did not sugarcoat what they thought of Mutsuki, but they meant no harm or derision like Urie.
They were just… honest. Brutally so, but still relatively kind.
"Was that too mean?" Suzuya offered.
"No."
Suzuya squinted at him. They shut one eye, and hummed very loudly. "I think you're lying!"
"No, you're right. I'm really… shy. And anxious. And boring, I guess. I don't like conflict."
"Maybe boring isn't the right word." Suzuya rolled onto their side, peering at Tooru's face closely. He tried to hide his discomfort. They kept staring. And then they bopped him on the nose, letting their finger rest there as they laughed. "Relax, Mutsuki! You really need to get that stick out of your ass already."
"I'm sorry, what…?" Tooru trailed off as their face split into a haughty, knowing grin, and they laughed louder, because he'd only just proven their point. "Hey! I don't have a stick up my ass!"
"You're so uptight and all, like, rule follow-y. Nobody's gonna care if you loosen up a little." They lifted their finger from his nose and waggled it tauntingly in the air. "No more! Say it with me! No more mister nice Mutsuki!"
"I'm not saying that," he said flatly, brushing their hand away. He shrunk back a little as Suzuya froze, their eyes flashing dangerously and lingering in a long, heated gaze, their eyelids peeling back and the deep red of them alight with some kind of hazy, electrified warning. "I-I… I'm not sure…"
He shrieked as a weight fell upon his chest, a black mass like a large, bony cat springing upon him and wriggling so his limbs were pinned to the mat, slim fingers and protruding joints applying just enough pressure to hold him, but not enough to hurt him. The point of the rubber knife was digging into his throat, and he could not see with Suzuya's feathery black hair smothering his face.
"Say it," Suzuya sang. "Say it and I'll let you go."
"I can't breathe," Tooru gasped, twisting his face away and accidentally positioning his neck further against the toy knife. He cried out in pain, but Suzuya's grip did not lesson. They did not budge.
"You should just say it. It'll be easier. If you say it. Because then I'll let you go. But you have to say it." Tooru was trying to figure out if Suzuya had crossed the line between training and playing and actually legitimately threatening him. They were keeping their voice soft, a beseeching little lilt that hummed inside his ears. Suzuya's voice was overwhelmingly sweet, childlike and sing-song, vicious and biting. They were terrifying. Tooru forgot. They were absolutely terrifying. "C'mon. Why won't you say it? Tell me."
"I don't want to," he choked.
"Why?"
"Because it's… silly." He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't handle this.
"You think a few little words are silly?" Suzuya uttered. Tooru felt their breath against his cheek, tickling close to his ear. Was Suzuya trying to make him uncomfortable? Well they'd done that easily with the whole knife-to-jugular thing. The close proximity was just an added discomfort. "They're just words."
The pressure lifted from his throat, and Suzuya rolled off him. Tooru sat up, gasping a bit, his fingers flying to his neck, thumbing the sensitive bruise forming where the rubber had pinched his skin.
When he looked up, Suzuya was glaring at him.
"You have the ability to say no," they told him coolly. "You're not incapable of it. If you can choose not to say a few dumb words— out of spite, maybe, or whatever your real reason was— then you can say no to dressing like a girl."
Tooru froze. Oh, he thought. Oh so that's what this was. Just a point to prove. Admittedly, Tooru was embarrassed.
"It's really not that simple," he murmured, closing his fingers around his throat. Suzuya was watching his every movement. As usual.
"You need to figure out how to make it that simple."
"I can't just go against an order, Suzuya!" Tooru didn't want to be angry with them, but they weren't understanding. They couldn't understand. They had no idea what it was like to be weak. The CCG couldn't cut them off, because they were an invaluable asset. Tooru was just… the weakest link in a rusty chain.
"But you just did, didn't you?" They tilted their head. "I ordered you to speak. You didn't."
"That's not the same thing."
"Haise would understand if you told him," they said, leaning forward and searching Tooru's face. "Does he know? At all?"
"That… I'm trans?" Tooru swallowed thickly. He rubbed the bruise on his neck. Oh no, he thought wildly. It's going to look like I have a hickey, isn't it? He dreaded the comments he'd get at home for that. "Well… I'm not... really sure, actually. I'm sure it says that I'm female somewhere in the CCG's infinite directory of investigators, but I don't actually know what was put down for me whenever Sasaki was given my file. I don't know if he knows or not. He doesn't act like he does."
"Maybe he just doesn't care," Suzuya offered. They beamed at Tooru. "Haise's just like that, I think! He doesn't want to treat you any different just because you've got girl parts instead of boy parts."
"That's… one way to put it…" Tooru knew it couldn't be helped. Suzuya was still much kinder about it than most people he encountered, so he supposed he should count his blessings. "But that still doesn't change that I can't go against an order from a superior. I can't afford it, Suzuya."
"Can't you at least try to stick up for yourself next time?" they asked. They were looking at Tooru strangely. There wasn't much teasing or fun in their words. They were just asking. It always startled Tooru when Suzuya chose to calm down and act their age.
"I don't know if that's the problem."
"It will help," Suzuya said firmly. "It's gotta help. It's not like your confidence could get any worse."
Tooru bit back a sneer, but he couldn't keep himself from spitting a dry, "Thanks a lot."
They grinned broadly, shooting an enthusiastic thumbs up his way. "I'm here to help!" the crowed, their voice echoing off the walls of the gymnasium.
"Okay, okay." Tooru held up his hand. A signal for them to keep their voice down. "I'll try to… I don't know. Be more assertive? I'll try. If that'll make you happy, Suzuya, I'll try."
"This isn't about me," they said slowly.
"No."
Suzuya sat across from him, their hair all askew, their mouth parting confusedly, and Tooru wanted to understand. He felt that there was so much about this person that he'd missed, so much behind his actions and his words and his oddities. Everything about Suzuya was unpredictable. From the way they looked to the way they spoke to they actions they took. What was going on in their head? Could they really relate to Tooru?
Were they alike at all?
Why am I grasping at straws with them? He asked himself this over and over. Why do I keep pretending we're the same?
"You're not happy," they stated suddenly.
Tooru blinked. He leaned back, and he frowned at them. "What makes you say that?"
"Because." Suzuya shrugged. They said nothing more.
"That's not an answer."
"You know," they said brightly, "for someone so concerned with all that superiors and underlings stuff, you don't show much respect for your boss!"
"Sasaki is my boss."
"And I'm like, basically Sasaki's boss!" Suzuya jerked a finger in Tooru's face. "You should call me… Suzuya-sensei!"
"Absolutely not," he said before he could stop himself.
They smiled. It sat nicely on their face, and their eyes twinkled a bit as they bobbed their head happily.
"Good," they said. They laughed, a bright little giggle that made them bounce in place. "Because I'm a horrible teacher!"
Tooru wanted to reassure them that they weren't, that they were very good, and that he was a lot stronger and more confident because of their short lessons, but… that would be a lie. Tooru was not any stronger or braver. He was just the same as he'd been when he began. Only now he had someone he could confide in with his troubles. And he didn't really worry about Suzuya spilling his secrets all around the CCG. Suzuya didn't gossip. Tooru was positive they wouldn't understand gossip even if someone told them a rumor that they were an alien child that the CCG had rescued from sharks. Which was something legitimate that Tooru had overheard once. Suzuya would probably ask what kind of sharks.
So Tooru said nothing instead.
And he thought that was okay. That it didn't matter. That Suzuya wasn't the type of person that would care. But it made Tooru, personally, very anxious. He felt that he needed to assure Suzuya that what they were doing mattered.
Even if it didn't really.
Even if it was useless.
Even if Tooru was useless…
Well, anyway. He was grateful for the little things, at least. He felt that his reflexes had greatly improved since beginning training with Suzuya. Perhaps Tooru was just psyching himself out. Fighting against Suzuya, of course he'd feel like he was never getting any better. But maybe he was wrong.
He must have miscalculated somewhere. He realized very fast that he didn't understand Suzuya at all.
They were the very essence of spontaneity. That made them scary. But… also fascinating.
The next day when the Quinckes arrived at the CCG for a briefing, Mutsuki noted Suzuya's absence. He wondered if they'd even show up. It'd make no difference if they didn't. It wasn't a particularly interesting meeting, and he knew it wouldn't carry on for long. They hadn't even bothered to drag Saiko out of her bed. Sasaki had advised Shirazu to just let her sleep. At least this time.
He listened intently as Sasaki revealed the information they'd gained during their investigation. He knew all of it already, of course— he'd been the one to get this information. But still, he liked to hear Sasaki speak. He was very good at it, and he held himself with a degree of confidence that Tooru sorely envied.
As Sasaki was speaking, the door to the conference room burst open. Tooru didn't really need to look to know who it was. A few people jumped, but no one looked very surprised. Hanbee glanced toward the door hesitantly. Tooru watched the tall man's serene expression twitched ever so slightly. There was something bemused in his pale eyes. Tooru followed his gaze as the room drifted into an uneasy silence.
He bit his tongue to keep himself from gasping. Suzuya was striding easily from the door to Hanbee's side, their feathery black hair fluttering at their jaw and shuffling about their neck, swaying softly as they walked, their gait oddly contained and well mannered, short, even strides that carried their footsteps softly, bedroom slippers replaced by a pair of nude hued flats that clung to the shape of their foot. Tooru recognized them. They were used primarily for dancing— training ballet slippers, before a child could move on to pointe.
Sasaki had paused only to look at them. His eyes had widened momentarily, his eyebrows rising. But he made no comment. He even schooled his features to hide the fact that he'd even been shocked in the first place.
Tooru clenched the hem of his coat beneath the table, and he prayed no one was looking at him, prayed that no one saw how he'd reacted, prayed that no one had tuned in to Tooru's emotions and silently judged him.
But of course no one was looking at Tooru.
They were all staring at Suzuya.
"Sorry I'm late!" They sounded a little breathless as they rocked back on their heels. The sound of swooshing fabric filled the room. "I overslept again."
"That's not a problem," Sasaki said as Suzuya plopped down. Their dress fanned out around them, billowy fabric rustling softly as they swung their legs idly.
It was a particularly plain black dress, something that looked like someone had dug it out of a dusty old bin from a thrift store. It held some bare semblance of a shape, the dark fabric tight around the abdomen and flaring at the hips. It could be a very pretty dress. The problem was, it was not suited for Suzuya's tiny frame, for their body was thin and their waist was small and their body was shapeless if not for protruding bones and tough muscle. It's not that the dress looked bad on them, but… it didn't really look nice either.
Suzuya stuck a pen in their mouth and gnawed at it. Their eyes were on Sasaki, their bony shoulders hunched, and Tooru couldn't help but stare at the protrusions of their collarbone. He pulled his eyes away, turning his attention back to Sasaki. He didn't want to make Suzuya uncomfortable. But even so, his eyes darted back, and he couldn't help but feel shocked and a little giddy.
And Tooru found himself vaguely pleased. Because he understood. And no one else, not even Sasaki, could understand like Tooru did.
Suzuya met his eye. Out of sheer anxiety, Tooru dropped his gaze to his hands, staring at his knuckles as they turned white against the fabric of his coat, clutching too hard and not willing to let go. Beside him, Shirazu was watching, looking curious as his sharp eyes flickered from Suzuya to Tooru and then back. He leaned close to Shirazu and whispered in his ear.
"Are we cross dressing some more, Tooru?"
"I don't know," he whispered back, glancing hurriedly at Sasaki. He didn't seem to notice their whispering. "I hope not."
"Then why is Associate Special Class Suzuya…?"
"Shirazu?" Sasaki lowered the papers in his hands. He set them down carefully on the table. Shirazu stiffened, immediately attentive to what Sasaki had to say. "Is there something you'd like to share with the class?"
For a moment Shirazu looked stunned. Then, staring into Sasaki's smiling face, he realized it was only a joke, and he laughed.
"Nah," he said, leaning back and stretching a bit. "I was just confused."
"About…?"
Shirazu opened his mouth. And then he closed it.
Tooru bit his tongue. Don't say anything stupid, he thought. He begged. Don't make Suzuya angry.
"I just wanted to make sure we don't gotta dress as girls again," he said.
Tooru relaxed. Okay. That wasn't so bad. He shot a glance at Suzuya. They didn't have a reaction, negative or positive, to Shirazu's words. They simply chewed on the end of their pen, their large eyes drooping a bit as they stared forward.
"I wouldn't rule it out, but for right now it's not necessary," Sasaki said gently. "Unless you want to."
"I'm good!" Shirazu threw his hands up quickly, his lower lip draw downward so his sharpened teeth and fleshy gums were bare, and exaggerated sign of his horror.
Sasaki smiled. "Okay, well I think that's about it. I could go over it for you, though, Juuzou."
Suzuya dropped their hands to the table, the pen wriggling between their teeth momentarily before they shrugged. "Sure. Go for it, Haise!"
"Right!" Sasaki placed his hands flat on the table. "Well, to get information on the Nutcracker, we pretended to be girls—"
Suzuya plucked the pen from their mouth. "Oh, that," they said. Sasaki blinked. "I already know about that."
Sasaki peered at them for a moment. And then his eyes traveled to Tooru. He shrunk a little. "Oh, okay then." Sasaki shrugged. "That was about it. Sorry, Juuzou. Looks like you got up for nothing."
They laughed, prodding the air with their pen. "Nah, I wouldn't say that!" They swayed from side to side, a big smile on their lips. "I would have come in anyway!"
Tooru didn't want to ask. Part of him didn't want to know. Because he wasn't sure how to feel about Suzuya. But another part of him, a much stronger part, was aching to figure out how their mind worked. What made them tick. That was important to him.
"Well, then I think we're done here," Sasaki said. He glanced about the room.
"Cool!" Suzuya jumped to their feet. They were halfway to the door before they turned back, nearly bumping into Hanbee. They patted the tall man's chest where their head had nearly smacked, and they peered behind Hanbee's arms. "By the way, I think what the Q's did was really impressive!"
Sasaki looked surprised. Tooru was at the edge of his seat, waiting for the moment when he could spring up and chase after Suzuya.
"Thank you," Sasaki uttered in alarm.
Suzuya smiled, and they teetered back on their heels. "No problem," they said brightly. "But next time, Haise, don't assume everyone is as comfortable with their gender expression as you." They beamed, folding their arms behind their back, and shrugged. "It's not that easy."
And then they all but skipped from the room. Tooru couldn't move. For a moment he was struck silent, struck stunned, and he didn't know what to do.
"What was that about?" Shirazu asked slowly.
Sasaki stood with a furrowed brow and a clear frown. He stared at the door. And then his looked down at Tooru.
"Mutsuki…" he said.
And that was all.
So Tooru stood up, his fingers lingering on the back of his chair, a halfway debate on if he should push it in and excuse himself or if he should just leave. He thought about Suzuya. All their words and all their useless lessons.
He moved toward the door, brushing past Hanbee and breaking into a sprint. He needed to speak to Suzuya alone. Of course, he had no clue what he was going to say but he still wanted to get him alone so they could at least discuss what was going on. Why they'd worn a dress. Why they'd said that to Sasaki.
When he spotted Suzuya, they were already stopped by another investigator. The man looked a little uncomfortable, and he kept a good meter between himself and Suzyua, speaking in hushed tones. As Tooru neared them, he caught what the man was saying.
"It's really just against regulation you see, you… you just can't wear that."
Suzuya yawned. "Oh yeah?" They stared up at the man, their smile big and genial and vaguely threatening. "Why?"
"It's against regulation!" The man looked distraught. He was probably fearing very much for his life. It's likely someone higher up had ordered him to go tell Suzuya that he couldn't wear a dress to work. How cruel, Tooru thought, eying the man with some semblance of pity. "I-I'm sorry, but… you can't show your shoulders. Or your knees. I'm sorry."
Suzuya folded their arms across their chest. They tipped their head, their hair half falling into their face. "What is this, the Vatican?" they sneered. "Who the fuck cares if my shoulders are showing?"
"It's unprofessional."
"I wear slippers to work everyday, and yet it's my shoulders and knees that make you question how professional I am?" Suzuya's smile was still plastered firmly on their face, their red eyes narrowing and their body rocking in place. It was an idle thing. Suzuya had many tics. Tooru couldn't tell if they were nervous tics, things that had formed from anxiety, or if it was something else.
"I… well…"
"Ha ha ha, okay!" Suzuya clasped their hands together and leaned forward. "I'm gonna stop you right there! Whatever regulation I'm breaking right now, I honestly don't give a fuck. Write me up for it. I really don't care."
They whirled away, their skirt fluttering around their knees, and they marched down the hall. Tooru followed them, hurrying past the blanched investigator, shooting him a sympathetic glance before rushing after Suzuya.
"Hey," he gasped, jogging up beside them. "What are you doing? What is this…?"
"I don't know." Suzuya kept walking. They didn't even look at Tooru, they simply just marched forward, their arms swinging lazily at their sides. "Stupid, I guess? I don't know."
"No, no," Tooru said, shaking his head. "Not stupid. Just… I'm just surprised." He looked down, and he watched his feet as they shuffled hurriedly to keep up with Suzuya's pace. "I don't know why, I mean I should have expected something like this from you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Tooru glanced at them, startled. They still would not look anywhere but forward. However, they had made their face stony, and their shoulders were hunched defensively.
"Just that you're really brave," he said carefully. I admire you a lot, he swallowed back, locking the words away and biting his tongue.
"Am I?"
"Uh… yeah?" He smiled weakly. "You're probably the bravest person I know. Which is saying a lot."
"I'm not really brave," Suzuya said. "I just don't think before I do things, that's all. I'm trying to work on that."
They swerved mid-step unexpectedly and marched into the men's bathroom. Tooru followed without a thought. There was an investigator washing his hands at the sink. He paused to glance at Suzuya when they walked in.
Suzuya leaned against a wall, turning their face toward their ceiling. They hummed. Their head lolled. And their eyes fell on the man.
"Get out," they said. It was a flat command. There was no toying or teasing or childishness there. Suzuya meant it to sound threatening.
The man ran, shouldering Tooru aside as he went.
Suzuya bounced off the wall and kicked open the stalls one by one by one, quickly and viciously, their pale pink ballet slippers clapping against the grimy floor. Finally upon finding the last one empty, they pivoted and glided toward the sinks. They pushed their hair from their face, hunched over the gleaming porcelain, and promptly began to dry-heave.
He didn't know what to do.
He really did not know what to do.
He couldn't just run to their side and pat their back or hold their hair. They weren't that close. But just standing there and watching made him feel absolutely terrible. He wanted to help. He wanted to make it stop. He wanted to understand, but he realized he already understood, and that made it all the worse.
The dry-heaves turned to vomit. Tooru couldn't turn his face away no matter how much he wanted to. The sound was awful, like listening to someone asphyxiating them, a wet choking sound that bled through the air. Their body would spasm with every upheaval, but otherwise they remained calm. The scent of bile wafted toward Tooru, and he felt the urge to puke himself.
For a little while, he began to bargain with the universe. If he could just help Suzuya in some way, if he could just stop them from hurting, from whatever was hurting them, making them sick, then he'd… then he'd…
What would he do?
He had nothing to offer.
Suzuya stopped as quickly as they started. They flicked on the faucet, washed their mouth out, and drizzled soap into the swirling yellowish stain trailing into the sink drain. These were mechanical actions. Tooru could tell. Their nimble fingers were efficiently washing the stain from the porcelain, wiping their lips and splashing the dark circles beneath their eyes. When they were done, they began to hum, and they turned to face Tooru while leaning back against the sink.
"Mm, sorry about that," they said, flicking the water from their hands. "I couldn't feel like that anymore."
"Feel like what?" Tooru whispered. He didn't know if he trusted himself to speak normally. His voice might crack and betray how horrified he was.
"Oh. You know…" Suzuya made a vague gesture. "That."
That.
Do they mean the terror of dressing in girl's clothes? Tooru had to wonder about it. He'd never had such a violent reaction, even if perhaps he'd wanted to.
"Did you… make yourself puke?" He tried to meet the distance between them, but as he crossed to the sinks he found he wasn't that brave. So he stopped.
"Uh, yeah?" Suzuya shrugged. "No big deal. I just felt icky, so I—"
"That's not healthy," Tooru cut in. "You shouldn't do that."
Suzuya was clearly taken aback. They opened their mouth, perhaps to retort unkindly, but then they seemed to reconsider. And they nodded.
"Okay," they said.
Why are they agreeing with me?
"Do you feel bad for me or something?" Tooru felt his fists clench around the hem of his coat. He wanted them to clench at his sides instead. "Is this your version of pity, Suzuya?"
"What?" They frowned at him. And then they rolled their eyes. "Oh, get over yourself. I don't pity you, stupid, I just want to help you. I thought maybe if I wore this, it'd help me understand better. And it did, so…"
"But…" He slumped. "I'm sorry… I think I just… I'm sorry, I misunderstood."
Suzuya leaned back. The strap of their dress was slipping against their shoulder and they raised their chin, peering at Tooru with dull eyes.
"It's easy," they said. "You feel better when you're a boy, right?"
"Yes…"
"Well," they said, "I feel fine as long as I'm not a girl." They hummed, and kicking the air thoughtfully. "Well, maybe that's not right. The girl me isn't so bad. It's girl clothes. I don't feel right in this."
"I get that," Tooru admitted.
Their eyes grew heavily lidded. They watched Tooru, and they smiled.
"Do you want to know?"
He tilted his head. He moved closer, because Suzuya had spoken very softly, and he almost hadn't heard him. "Know?" He leaned against the sink beside them. "Know what?"
They must have taken that as a yes, because they began to bundle up the skirt of their dress, and it didn't register to Tooru what they were doing until they saw the pallid skin of their thighs. He hastily grabbed both of Suzuya's hands, forcing them to halt in hiking their dress up above their waist. The fabric bunched between their fingers.
Their hands were cold and callused.
"No," Tooru said. His voice was somewhat shaky, but he forced himself to be steady. He squeezed their fingers until they released the fabric, and it tumbled back to their knees.
"No…?" They glanced at them. They were no longer smiling. They looked hopelessly confused. "You don't want to know?"
"It doesn't matter." He stood for a moment, trying to digest the situation. His cheeks began to redden. He bowed his head in embarrassment.
Suzuya's fingers tightened around his, and they smiled.
"Okay," they said, swinging Tooru's hands. "It doesn't matter."