Work Text:
He wonders what happened to that lily.
That lily, that had wilted under his rotten touch, a touch that seems to make anyone and anything die.
He had given it up to Monomoko, but he had no idea where it was now.
He sometimes feel like that lily.
Rotten, decaying, regressing bit by bit.
Although Ojima had found him after the game, giving him a better eating schedule, he still hasn't gotten better.
He's only gone up by a few pounds, nothing worth celebrating.
He thinks it's the reason why he feels disgusted every time he sees himself nude, maybe it's not.
He feels wrong, in the wrong body.
At first he though it was cause he wanted to be in a healthier body, but now he's not so sure.
He's been called 'she' before, sometimes. By strangers calling to him, assuming by his long hair and feminine shape.
He's corrected them before, but he didn't at all feel weird being called she, it felt good. Why?
Why did it feel good? Why does he like pink? Why does he, whos supposed to be a boy, like wearing skirts?
He feels conflicted, torn, his mind is a whirlwind.
Boys aren't supposed to like that stuff, right? He's a boy?
He doesn't know anymore.
He goes full feminine, once. He's dolled up in a big, frilly dress. Socks going up to his knees, he has bows in his hair.
When he look at himself in the mirror, it feels right.
He feels good.
He cries, he doesn't know why. He falls to his knees, he doesn't know why it feels right.
He doesn't wear dresses for a while after that.
He hates taking showers.
He doesn't want to see himself nude, doesn't want to see his genitalia, it doesn't feel right.
When he takes a shower, he avoids the mirror entirely.
When he gets in the shower, he keeps his eyes forward, refusing to look down, refusing to look at his body.
When he gets out, he dries himself without looking down, same with clothing himself again, he doesn't want to see it.
He doesn't know how to feel, how to identify.
He doesn't even know if he wants to be called 'he', he just assumed it was what he was supposed to be called, it was his gender, right?
But being associated with the sex 'male' didn't sit right with him. He didn't know why. he cries that night. Whats wrong with him? Hes a boy. A boy should be a boy.
More strangers are referring to him as a she, which doesn't help his case.
He stops correcting them, it already feels correct, fitting.
He's stopped cutting his hair, instead letting it grow out past his shoulders.
Hes adapted less masculine clothing, started swearing jewelry, little details to see if he really does feel better.
And he does.
He doesn't understand. Hes a boy. Why does he like feminine clothing? Accessories? Why does he like feminine things? Why does he like being referred to as a girl?
He pushes it off. He tells himself it's nothing, he just likes how it looks.
He's so confused.
He doesn't know what the hell is happening to him.
He's fully stopped wearing masculine clothing, and he's started talking in a more high pitched voice.
Nakamigawa sends glances at him when he does, glances full of knowing, he doesn't know why.
He gets his answer once he looks it up.
He thinks he wouldnt get any results, after all, searching up '𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝖽𝗈 𝖨 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝖾𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗂𝖿 𝖨'𝗆 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗒? 𝖧𝖾𝗅𝗉.' Didnt exactly seem that common for people to search up.
But to his surprise, he did get results.
It was something about this thing called 'transgender', he's heard of it before, only negative things.
He read through the rundown, it seemed all too familiar.
He read through other people's experiences, they hit too close to home.
He told himself he was being dramatic, hes a boy. Hes not... transgender. He can't be. It's wrong, thats what everyone says.
He shuts off his phone.
He takes a shower, but it's different this time.
Instead of refusing to look at himself, he stares hard into the mirror.
He wanted to prove he's not- transgender. Hes- he's a boy.
Right?
He stares into the mirror, his gaze trailing down to look at his flat chest, it feels too flat. It feels like somethings missing, a weight that should be there.
The mirror cuts off just below his stomach. He moves.
When he walks over to his full-length mirror, he feels like throwing up.
He can see his genitalia, it shouldn't be there. It feels like it shouldnt be there. He remembers why he never wanted to see it.
It doesn't look right, not on his body. None of it looks right.
He immediately averts his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand as his breaths come out shallow and quick, it didn't feel right. None of this did.
He quickly hops into the shower, scrubbing his hair harder than usual, maybe to wash the sight out of his brain. It doesn't work.
Ojima walks in on him wearing a skirt once, and he feels so ashamed.
He had been testing it out, to see if it felt right.
It did, like it always did.
He was looking at it in the mirror when the door opened.
Ojima had walked in.
They both stood there, staring at each other, when Ojima's eyes trailed down to the skirt he was wearing.
He felt like crying on the spot.
He didn't want anyone else to see him like this. No one else needed to see him like this.
Sure, hes worn feminine things before, but never a skirt. Not in front of the others, at least. Only in private.
They don't say anything, he doesn't know if its better or worse.
Ojima just mumbles 'sorry', then shuts the door.
He waits for the sound of footsteps leaving before he bursts into tears.
He tugs at his hair, individual strands coming out.
Why does he feel like this?
He's a boy. He's...a boy. Not a girl.
Was what he looked up really true?
Hes been contemplating what he looked up. It's been a few weeks, and he's considering it might be what he is.
But that cant be true. He's a boy. He swears it.
So what if he doesn't feel right being referred to as he? maybe he just doesnt like the sound of it.
So what if he likes wearing dresses and skirts? they just look pretty.
So what if he likes being called she? Maybe it just sounds better than he.
Anything but trying to consider that he was transgender. Because it's not right. Everyone told him it wasn't right, so he can't be it.
Right?
So what if his experience is identical to it's summary? It's a coincidence.
But maybe it's not?
He stares at the ceiling, lying on his bed.
What does he identify as? Thats the question he asks himself.
𝖨 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐. His mind replies. Where was his mind anymore?
He's definitely transgender.
He's been avoiding it for so long, but it finally clicked in his mind.
He had been reading through people's experiences again, trying to prove that he wasnt transgender.
But he saw someone who had an experience identical to his.
The person hadn't felt right in her original body, when she tried on dresses and skirts, she felt happier.
It felt too familiar.
When she got mistaken for a girl in public, it felt right being referred to as she.
It felt too familiar.
When she took showers, she had been disgusted by her genitalia, and chose to not look at it at all.
It felt...too...familiar.
It felt too painstakingly familiar, he wanted to cry on the spot.
Thats when he finally realized it.
𝖨'𝗆 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖨?
He had called the group together, Takeshi, Nakamigawa, Shigeki, and Ruiko.
He had to tell them, it had built up inside him for so long, he had to let it out.
He sat nervously on the couch, twiddling his thumbs and sweating, as the group looked at him expectedly.
They were all waiting in anticipation, but they didn't force him to talk yet.
He kind of wishes they did, he doesn't know how to start.
He starts talking without thinking.
"𝖧𝖾𝗒, 𝗎𝗆. 𝖲𝗈- 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾- 𝖨 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅.
𝖴𝗆- 𝖨'𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾. 𝖨 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒, 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉."
He paused after that, his eyes not being able to meet anyone else's. He just stared down at his hands.
"𝖨 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄-" his breath catches.
"𝖨 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖨 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝖨-𝖨'𝗏𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀.
𝖨'𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝖾𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝖾, 𝖨'𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌, 𝖨 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒.
𝖨𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝖾𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗉𝗂𝖽.
𝖨-𝖨'𝗆 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗒, 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍? 𝖨𝗌𝗇𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀? 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾'𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖾.
𝖨-𝖨 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝖻𝗎𝗍...
𝖨-𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝖾𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗐. 𝖠-𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝖨'𝗆 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗎𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅.
𝖨-𝖨'𝗆 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁 𝗉𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽. 𝖨-𝖨𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍.
𝖲-𝖲𝗈 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾, 𝗎𝗆, 𝖨 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖿𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍."
He- no, 𝗦𝗵𝗲.
She can't meet anyone's gazes, she just stares down at her fidgeting fingers.
Nakamigawa speaks up.
"𝖶𝖾𝗅𝗅, 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾?"
She slightly looks up at that.
"𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍..?"
"𝖣𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾? 𝖫𝗂𝗄𝖾, 𝖨 𝖽𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗈, 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝖾? 𝖶𝖺𝖽𝖺 𝖬𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗂 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖺 𝗀𝗎𝗒'𝗌 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾, 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎."
Her eyes light up. Nakamigawa thought a masculine name didn't suit her?
"𝖴-𝖴𝗆- 𝖶𝖺𝖽𝖺'𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖾. 𝖨'𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖬𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗆𝗂 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝖬𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁." She replied, her head slowly turning up.
"𝖢𝗈𝗈𝗅! 𝖭𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝖽𝖺 𝖬𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗂, 𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗁, 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝖽𝖺 𝖬𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗆𝗂 𝗇𝗈𝗐."
She hears Ruiko's voice next.
"𝖶𝗈𝗈! 𝖶𝖺𝖽𝖺'𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗇𝗀! 𝖨'𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾!"
She feels her eyes well up with tears.
"𝖭𝗈 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗆𝖾𝖽. 𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗌, 𝗐𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌, 𝖬𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗆𝗂." Yanagi's voice perks up next, that same prince voice.
"𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗁, 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍. 𝖠𝗇𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗋, 𝗐𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖬𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗆𝗂." Ojimas voice comes next.
She had expected to be met with hate. Disgusted glares and nasty comments, but instead they were supportive and loving.
She couldn't hold it in, she started crying.
"𝖸-𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌.."
She curls up in the sitting position she's in, rubbing her eyes with her wrist.
It's useless, the tears keep coming.
She feels arms being wrapped around her from every direction, words of comfort and affirmation being whispered in her ears.
After a while, they pull away.
Her loud wailing being reduced to small sniffles, her tear-stained cheeks now red, and her nose running.
Despite everything, she smiles.
She smiles, because she knows she has supportive friends.
Nakamigawa speaks up again.
"𝖨'𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌."
She let's out a sound of shock, her eyes widening as she waves her hands in front of her.
"𝖶𝗁- 𝖭𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗐𝖺, 𝗒-𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍! 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌-"
"𝖥𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝖾? 𝖡𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗀𝗁, 𝖨 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗇𝗈𝗍. 𝖨'𝗆 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌. 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗋?" Nakamigawa interrupts her, making a fake gagging motion when he mentions thrift stores.
"𝖴𝗆, 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄"
"𝖦𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍! 𝖨 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗎𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗎𝗎𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝖼𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇! 𝖨 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖳𝖺𝗆𝖻𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗍, 𝖨 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋!"
Nakamigawa runs up to Takeshi's room, they practically shared it, now that they were dating. Nakamigawa might honestly be moving in with how much time he spends here.
She chuckles to herself, a final tear running down her cheek.
She felt like a lily, not the one she had tainted, no.
A wild lily, freshly blossomed, beautiful, radiant.
A lily worth keeping.