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Kunimi couldn’t bear to look at himself. He couldn’t bear to hear himself. Everything about him was wrong. The shape of his face, the way his voice sounded, his chest, his. His everything.
He didn’t want to wake up in the morning anymore, he could barely force himself to go to school. Every second of his day was spent trying to cool the burning hole in his chest, but it never worked.
His chest.
He couldn’t describe how much he hated his chest. No binder, nor tape, could hide the obviousness that he had boobs. One string of luck he got was from being skinny, and not having large ones. But still, they were there. A binder still left a bump. He’d tried tape but it made him feel even worse, real boys didn’t have to tape their chest.
Real boys
Real boys.
Cis boys.
He evened cis boys. He would even go as far to say there was a little tinge of hatred towards them, it was no fault of their own. They just got everything Kunimi wanted, without even trying. They always made him feel out of place, even the rare ones who never saw Kunimi as a girl. Like Kindaichi.
Kindaichi Yutaro, the 6ft tall, deep voiced, flat chested, cis boy. Kunimi’s boyfriend.
Kunimi loved his boyfriend with all his heart, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t look at Kindaichi with a hint of jealousy. Jealousy for something he would never have. A childhood as a normal boy, Puberty as a normal boy. Kindaichi never had to grow up and wonder why he was why he was, he never had to grow up hating his body for factors that were no fault of anyones. He never had to close his eyes in the shower to avoid looking down, looking at the absence of dick, and the presence of tits.
Kunimi knew crying about this was all for nothing.
Crying wouldn’t change the fact that he could never have what he wanted. He could never experience a normal teenage love story. He cried for hours over what others would deem as stupid.
He cried over sex. The fact he could never had normal gay sex with his loving boyfriend. He couldn’t even begin to fathom the idea of having sex when he was like this.
It doesn’t matter to me what you have, Akira. I love you. You’re a boy, a man, no matter what.
Kindaichi’s words.
Kunimi didn’t care what Kindaichi thought, harsh but true, he cared only what he thought about it. Because no matter what Kindaichi would say, he knew it would matter. He knew Kindaichi would never love him sexually or romantically the way a cis man loves another cis man.
A cis man. Something he will never be.
A fact that keeps him up at night, a fact that makes it hard to wake up in the morning.
Kunimi akira just wanted to be a normal boy.