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Something had been on Tomura’s mind for a while. For weeks, months, years. These thoughts came and went almost passively. But there was a continued persistence to them that had built up so much, they couldn't be ignored or denied anymore.
Tomura stood in front of the mirror in his room with the door closed and locked. He didn't want anyone disrupting him as he finally, truly considered these thoughts. On his bed beside him were items that he had purchased weeks ago but never wore. It took all his courage to even take them out of the packaging they arrived in.
With a deep breath, Tomura glanced over to them – a slim metal headband with white dog ears and a white fluffy curled tail with a swappable base that could either be clipped onto pants or… He shuddered and looked away again. No, he only wanted the clip part. This was all intimidating enough without needing to expose himself on top of it.
Looking at himself in the mirror was… confusing. Part of the issue was that Tomura didn’t feel like a boy to begin with. A man, a guy, any of it. He and those who knew him referred to him as a man because it was the default. That’s how he was born and that’s how people saw him. But it wasn’t how Tomura saw himself.
Wasn’t how Tomura saw itself.
Tomura took another breath and turned its attention back to the ears and tail. This was okay. It could do this.
It reached for the ears first, petting over the soft fur with trembling fingers. Then before it could lose its determination, it quickly settled the headband in place. But it couldn’t look in the mirror quite yet. What if it looked dumb? What if the ears weren’t really the right shape for what it felt on the inside? Everything had to be put on first for the full look. Then it could decide. The tail was a bit more fiddly than the ears. Tomura had to bend around and try to look behind itself as its fingers fiddled with the clip to secure it to its pants.
Then everything was on. Tomura had considered paw gloves as well, but decided against them. If it liked how the ears and tail looked then maybe it would get the gloves, too. But if the ears and tail didn’t work out, it didn’t want to be left with the reminder of its failure piled up in the back of its closet. Better to try just a couple pieces first and build from there.
Okay. Time to look. You’ll be okay. This will look good. It feels right, so it will be right.
Tomura shook out its hands and wiggled in place as it built up the courage to look in the mirror. Nervous energy had been building ever since it took out the secret ears and tail from its closet, and that tingling, unsteady feeling was reaching a crescendo. This was the moment. It had to look now or it would end up throwing everything back into the closet and never trying again.
A low, near animalistic whine built in its throat. It was stressed, but that sound was almost affirming. That wasn’t the sound a human made. That was the sound a dog made. Right.
Finally, it looked in the mirror again.
The white ears stuck up from its messy white hair. The fur wasn’t the same texture and was more starkly white than its hair, but that was okay. The shape was right. Rounded triangles with the left ear slightly bent and a faint shading of pale blue at the tips. It skipped over its own red eyes and pale, scarred skin. That didn’t matter. That all looked the same. Plain, baggy black clothes covered its body and kept its general shape mostly obscured.
Peeking out from behind was the tail. It was made with the same faux fur as the ears with a larger spray of blue at the tip. The tail curled towards its body, somewhat similar to an undocked corgi tail but shorter with a tighter curl. It didn’t necessarily have a specific dog species in mind when looking for these accessories. It simply perused the options until something caught its attention.
Yeah. This feels right.
Still looking in the mirror, Tomura twisted its hips a little to make the tail wag. It swayed a bit, not quite large enough to wag and too stiff enough to allow for much movement. But there was still something. And Tomura could feel it pulling at the middle of its waistband as if there really was a tail pushing through the back of its pants. It smiled as the bubbling anxiety lessened just a little.
Feeling brave, Tomura dropped to its knees and planted its hands on the floor between its knees. This was how dogs sat, right? It had watched so many dog obedience training videos late at night when it couldn’t sleep, idly thinking about what it would be like to act that way. But who could it trust with this knowledge? Who could it tell and ask to be its handler like that?
Handler, not owner. Because Tomura was still its own independent person. It didn’t need to be kept like an actual pet. It wanted to run free and act on its own free will. But this did feel lonely. Even the thrill of indulging like this now, in finally accepting this part of itself, wasn’t completely fulfilling. There was another aspect to this identity that it couldn’t handle on its own.
That’s fine. Think about that later. Focus on yourself now.
Tomura leaned towards the mirror and sniffed at it. Then it snickered at how silly that felt and smushed its nose to the cool surface, staring into its own eyes and feeling a playful urge rise from its belly. It started wiggling its hips again as it leaned back and shook its head, hair flopping but ears staying firmly in place.
“Arf!”
The bark was loud but Tomura didn’t care. This was fun. This was who it was. It deserved to revel in its identity and all the facets of it without anyone judging it. If anyone heard, then they could ask later. And whether Tomura would answer honestly or not was an issue it would solve in that moment.
“Mrrr… ruff.” Tomura hunkered down, its hips raised up a bit with its hands on the floor and chest pressed on top of them. It didn’t quite have the flexibility to lay flat like this but that was something it could work on. Something it could train itself for.
That wasn’t very comfortable yet though. So Tomura flopped over onto its side and its smile grew to a grin. This was comfortable. And if it had a big cushion, a large dog bed, to make laying on the floor even more comfortable? It would never get up again. No more couches or regular human beds.
And wasn’t that an exciting thought?
Tomura closed its eyes and sighed as it reveled in that new fantasy. All its thoughts before had been about the accessories and telling its friends. Maybe they would pet its head and call it a good dog. Maybe they would teach it tricks. Maybe it would kneel on the floor and just hang out while the others talked and watched tv or played video games. As much as it enjoyed video games, it wouldn’t join in all the time. Dogs couldn’t play games like that.
It probably wouldn’t always be like this, in full dog mode. (That thought made it giggle again.) But for now, it wanted to revel in accepting this part of itself. Tomura rolled onto its back, tail squished against its butt, and waved its hands in the air. Yes, the paw gloves would be necessary. From the same shop so they’d be made with the same fur and shade of blue for the detailing.
“Arf arf!” Tomura swatted at the air as if there might be a toy or someone reaching over to pet it.
This was fun, it was freeing, it was right. This was what Tomura had been missing. This was why it felt weird whenever anyone referred to it with the wrong pronouns, the wrong kind of person.
Tomura dropped its arms to lay on the floor, starfished next to its bed and grinning at the ceiling. Maybe it would tell its friends soon. This felt perfect. It wanted to feel this all the time. And its friends probably would accept this just fine. Many of them were trans, many of them had habits and frames of mind that weren’t considered ‘normal’ by society. This wouldn’t be strange to them.
Their friend group dynamic wouldn’t change too much. They would all still be as close as a family, hanging out together and supporting each other’s changes and identities. But now, Tomura would be sitting on the floor instead of the couch. Now, its friends would pet its head and maybe toss a toy for it to chase after. Casual, easy. Normal for them.
Normal for them. Acceptable to them. Tomura sighed with a smile, its heart rate slowing down as it settled. This was good. This was okay. It would tell its friends soon, maybe tomorrow. For the moment, it wanted to enjoy this on its own. To revel in its true self without any outside interference.
After so many years of confusion and feeling like something was deeply, fundamentally wrong, this was the freedom Tomura had dreamed about. It was more a dog than a human and that was okay.