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Gin would not say she is dissatisfied with her life, exactly. She knows that, as the adopted daughter of a nobleman, she has been blessed in a way few others are. She does not have to worry for food or shelter; she has every need met without asking and servants willing to cater to her whims. She does not mind the life she leads in the slightest, but…
There are some things which cannot be changed no matter how much power Gin holds.
There are some things that can only ever be fantasy.
Which is why, under the shadow of the night, she dons clothes stolen from her brother’s wardrobe, ties up her hair, and sneaks away to a place where no one knows the truth of who she is.
The tavern on the edge of town is always bustling at this hour, full of creatures from all different walks of life. Humans, fairies, dwarves, and various types of yokai alike can be found here mingling freely on any given night. As soon as Gin steps through the door, a sense of ease settles over their shoulders. Here, they can blend effortlessly into the crowd, hidden and unremarkable as any other patron.
Here, they do not have to be a nobleman’s daughter; they are a simple mercenary who hails from a far away land. They are no one of note, and most importantly—
They’re seen as a man.
They take a deep breath in, then exhale slowly, letting the atmosphere wash over and settle them. They take in their surroundings as they always do, gaze sweeping over the interior of the tavern and seeking out anything that might be of note. It’s not uncommon to see fights brewing, and on rare occasions, Gin spots someone who they recognize from elsewhere—someone they need to ensure they keep their distance from, lest they be discovered.
Tonight, things seem to be unfolding as they typically do. Though, Gin’s eyes do catch on an unfamiliar girl sticking close to the side of a fairy that frequents this place. The girl seems to be doing her best to hide herself from view, and when she turns her head, Gin understands why.
Her are pointed at the tips, and are longer than a fairy’s—the telltale indicator of an elf.
She meets Gin’s gaze for a split-second. Her eyes widen, and she ducks into the fray quickly, disappearing from sight. Gin frowns, but they figure it’s best to not get involved—elves can be even more tricky to deal with than fairies if you get on their bad side. At least, according to the tales Gin has heard and their experience with the only other elf they and their brother have ever encountered.
They turn away, making their way to their usual table, where Tachihara, Atsushi, and the Tanizaki siblings are already gathered. Naomi waves them over eagerly, nudging a drink in front of the empty seat at their table. Gin drops themself into the chair, tugs their mask down beneath their chin, and takes a large swig.
“Sup, man.” Tachihara greets them with a clap on the shoulder and a wide grin. “We were getting worried!”
Gin shakes their head. “I had something come up,” they sign. Naomi translates, because she picked up sign language so fast Gin is almost convinced she knows some spell for learning languages. And because, while Tachihara is good at reading his surroundings using basic detection magic, he can’t see their specific hand movements.
“Well, we’re glad you made it!” Atsushi replies brightly.
Gin smiles. “Me too.”
They talk over their drinks for hours, and as always, it’s the freest Gin ever feels. They make for an odd group—a blind blacksmith hardly older than Gin themself, a tiger yokai recently taken on as an apprentice by a human warrior, two mages who previously trained under the same warrior as Atsushi, and the daughter of a nobleman who prefers to disguise herself as a man. But these people get to see a version of Gin that has always felt more real than anything they can display in their day-to-day life.
They’re the only people Gin could truly consider to be their friends.
The hour grows later and later, and eventually, their group departs from the tavern and spills out onto the streets beneath the dark night sky. It shimmers with thousands of stars, and Gin pauses for a moment to take in the sight.
And then Tachihara stumbles into them, draping himself over their shoulder, forcing their attention to him instead.
They huff out a sigh, reaching up to pat his head.
“Gin-kun…” he mumbles. “Will you walk me home…?”
Gin grimaces. It’s far out of their way, and while they usually don’t mind, they stayed later tonight than they probably should have.
“I don’t have time,” they inform Atsushi regretfully, because Naomi has already dragged her brother off in the direction of their home.
“I can take him!” Atsushi assures them. With their joint efforts, they manage to shift Tachihara’s weight to Atsushi instead of Gin. They bid one another farewell as Tachihara mumbles incoherently.
And then Gin is left alone in the cool night air.
They breathe out slowly, looking back up to the sky and the twinkling stars. It would be nice, they think, if they could just live like this all the time—if they didn’t have to hide who they are from their friends. If they could drag Tachihara back to his place and simply crash there with him for the night. They wouldn’t mind leading the life they pretend is theirs when they come here, if only because—
“So it was you,” a voice whispers.
Gin turns on instinct, knife hilt coming to their hand in a flash and pressed to the throat of the speaker the next. There’s no one else around right now, and Gin cannot afford to let anyone know who they are. At best, they will lose their friends; at worst, they may lose their life.
It takes their eyes and mind a second to catch up to their body, and when they do, they’re surprised to find they have the elf from earlier held at knifepoint. Her back is against the wall and her eyes are wide with fear, but her body isn’t shaking.
“How do you know me?” Gin hisses. They don’t use their voice here, because the pitch shatters the disguise they’ve so carefully crafted, but if this girl already knows the truth, there’s no need to hide.
“I-I don’t! Not really; I just—”
Gin presses the knife closer, blade to skin, though not hard enough to pierce the flesh just yet.
The girl squeaks, eyes squeezing shut. “I specialize in wish magic,” she explains. “It used to be my job—granting wishes. Each wish has its own unique trace of mana, and I noticed yours when I passed by you earlier today. I thought it strange when I sensed that same exact mana as you stepped into the tavern, because you looked so different. But retroactively, it made you wish make sense.”
“Wish magic?” Gin asks. Are they seriously supposed to believe that?
The elf nods. “It’s a lost art now, but it was much more common in the age when elves rules much of the land.”
Gin presses their lips together. Dazai never once mentioned anything like ‘wish magic’ but Gin can’t imagine it would have been something that interested him regardless—he was much too selfish for that. What Gin does know of elves from their time spent with him is that much of their magic has been lost as the number of elves in the world decreased drastically during the war between them and humans. So it stands to reason their may very well be truth to this girl’s words.
They grit their teeth, looking the girl over. She doesn’t seem to be anything remarkable—elf ears aside. Large round glasses sit on her face, and she wears simple brown clothing. A satchel hangs at her side, certainly too small to hold much beyond a single spell book. Unless it’s been enchanted. She doesn’t hold herself with the same confidence as Dazai either. He believed he could not be killed; this girl is fully aware of her mortality.
“Prove it, then,” Gin challenges. “What is my wish?”
“To be a man.”
Gin’s vision blurs. “That’s not—”
“It is,” she interrupts. “I won’t grant a wish without being asked, but you cannot lie to someone who has practiced this magic for thousands of years.”
“You would grant my wish?” Gin asks. They lower their knife, slipping it back up their sleeve now that it is evident this girl doesn’t mean them any harm. “For what price?”
She shakes her head. “I wouldn’t ask for anything from you.”
“And why is that?”
“I have not encountered a wish which has intrigued me so greatly in the past hundred years.”
Gin returns home exactly as they left, but the elf’s words hang heavy in the back of her mind. Could a wish like hers truly be granted? What would the fall out be, if she were to accept the offer? If this elf is even half as crafty as Dazai, she certainly wouldn’t be willing to do something as big as this if there were nothing in it for her.
And if she is half as malicious as Dazai, simply watching the chaos that unfolds in the wake of her magic would be more than enough motivation.
The following day, Gin is formally introduced to Louisa, the elfin mage who has accompanied Lord Francis of the West during his journey to this kingdom. Louisa greets her with a bow as if they have never met. Gin offers her the same courtesy.
“I don’t trust that bastard,” Chuuya grumbles, half-empty glass of wine in hand. He gestures vaguely, as if they’re supposed to know who he’s talking about. “Rumor has it he’s here lookin’ for The Book and the treaty is just a cover.”
Gin sips her own drink carefully and chooses not to speak.
“Rumors from where?” Ryuunosuke asks. His glass remains untouched in front of him.
“That fuckin’— retired warrior guy. Who owns the big ass magic shop now. One of his apprentices blabbed that he was in there snoopin’ around.”
Gin hums. “Did he mention the Book specifically?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Was it Ranpo-san?” Albatross asks, from his position by the door. As Chuuya’s guard, he’s supposed to stay silent, but Gin has rarely known him to abide by that rule, and Chuuya never cares. They talk to one another like old friends rather than a noble and his servant.
Chuuya shoots a glare in his direction. He doesn’t deny it, though.
“Ah,” Ryuunosuke says. “That explains things.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Chuuya demands. But Ryuunosuke is finally taking a strategically-timed drink. Gin gracefully covers her laugh with a cough.
“Anyway,” Albatross barrels on, “what about that elf he brought with him? Aren’t elves, like, super-rare? Like almost extinct? The only one I’ve ever met is Da—”
“Elves are all shifty assholes who can’t be trusted,” Chuuya interrupts. He downs the rest of his drink in one go. “And if she’s in cahoots with that shady lord, she’s no better than that fuckin’ traitor Dazai.”
Once again, Gin chooses not to comment. She rises to refill Chuuya’s glass in silence.
When Gin next dares to visit the tavern, they find themself ambushed by the red-haired fairy Louisa was clinging to when Gin first saw her. They recognize Lucy as a regular and one of Atsushi’s friends, but they hadn’t realized just how intense she can be until her fingernails are digging into their arms and their sharp grin is in Gin’s face.
“Louisa said you piqued her interest,” Lucy muses. “I’m curious as to why.”
Gin shrugs.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought—your friends said you’re mute. But Louisa said she talked to you. So what’s the truth?”
Gin presses their lips together. They debate sticking a knife into Lucy’s side in order to escape, but they have a feeling Atsushi would not like that very much. It would cause far more problems than it would solve, if Gin doesn’t want to permanently lose this disguise and false life they’ve carefully curated for themself. And they really, really, would like to avoid that if at all possible.
Thankfully, someone comes to their rescue before they can make any rash decisions.
Unfortunately, that someone is Louisa herself.
“Please don’t bother him.”
Lucy lets go of Gin with a groan, throwing her head back. “You’re no fun! I’m just curious; no one ever interests you!”
Louisa pushes her glasses up, avoiding eye contact with Gin. “You do.”
“Yeah, me and no one else in the entire world. What’s so special about this guy?!” Lucy gestures harshly towards Gin. Rude. “He’s literally just some random mercenary. At least I’ve, like, been alive for more than twenty years.”
“It isn’t something I can explain,” Louisa replies apologetically. She bows. “I apologize, Gin-kun. We’ll be on our way now.”
Lucy lets Louisa drag her away, though she pouts and whines about it the entire time. Gin watches them go until Naomi’s voice in their ear startles them and commands their attention instead.
“What was up with that?”
Gin shrugs. “I wish I knew.”
Naomi hums, looking Gin over like she doesn’t exactly believe them. The skepticism passes quickly, though, and she breaks into a smile instead. “Alright, whatever. C’mon, let’s go, someone dared Tachihara to drink this horrible concoction of miscellaneous ingredients from the tavern kitchen and you are not gonna want to miss it!”
“Do you truly believe Lady Louisa to be the same as Dazai?” Ryuunosuke asks Gin. The two of them are eating breakfast together alone—a time during which it is especially rare for Ryuunosuke to make conversation. He must have been contemplating this topic quite a bit.
“I’m not sure,” Gin admits. She wants to say no, but she has very little evidence to back herself up and none that she can share with her brother. While she doesn’t expect he is completely oblivious to her sneaking out, he most certainly does not know the details or her greatest motivation for doing so.
“What makes you hesitate to write her off?” he inquires.
Gin hesitates. She has no good answer, truly. There is no reason for her to put any trust in Louisa, except—
“I do not want her to be like him,” she admits softly, “so I hope she is not.”
“Interesting,” Ryuunosuke muses.
He does not say anything more.
As the only lady noble in the high-ranking circle which Gin belongs to, she is tasked with entertaining Louisa while Lord Francis is busy with treaty talks she is not permitted to listen in on. Gin is given nothing but vague instructions to show her around town and then left on her own with the only being who has ever been able to read her deepest desire.
(Not even Dazai was privy to her secret—she is certain he would have used it against her if he knew.)
Louisa smiles, tilting her head in a bow. “It seems I am in your care.”
Gin returns the gesture. “So it does.”
Gin takes Louisa through several shops, taking care to stay away from the one owned by Atsushi’s master. Louisa does not question her choices—in fact, she says very little at all. She observes everything with the careful eye of someone highly skilled in analysis, exactly as Dazai did, but she approaches the world in a far gentler manner than him. When Dazai went silent, it could never mean anything good. Louisa’s silence, however, is comfortable to exist beside.
They remain out until the sun begins to set, at which point Gin determines it would make the most sense for them to eat dinner before she returns Louisa to her current lodging. When she speaks this thought aloud, Louisa agrees, so Gin brings her to a restaurant she has visited often with her brother and adoptive father.
Gin chooses a table for two in the corner of the restaurant, where they are least likely to be bothered by any other patrons. As they wait for their food to arrive, Louisa asks, “Have you thought any more about my offer?”
“How do I know I can trust you?” Gin replies evenly. “I have only ever met one elf before you, and he was not the type to act out of the kindness of his heart.”
“You would judge all elves based on your experience with one of us?”
When put like that, Gin can admit it sounds bad. But Dazai was simply emblematic of the legends surrounding elves that have been passed down for generations upon generations. And while Louisa might not act exactly as he does, that does not absolve her of suspicion. Not when someone as smart as Ranpo called into question Lord Francis’ motive for coming here.
Gin leans in close, voice dropping to a whisper low enough there is no risk anyone other than Louisa will hear. “Rumor says your lord did not come here for peace, but rather for a magical item known as the Book. As the mage accompanying him, I must assume you are aware of his plans.”
Louisa’s expression darkens. “You believe every rumor you hear as well?”
“Not every rumor. But I certainly do not wish to discount ones that come from the smartest man in the kingdom.”
“Lord Francis’ ancestors offered me sanctuary in the West when war was waging between elves and humans in the East,” Louisa states. “I have served his family for centuries as repayment for that kindness. I do not offer any approval nor disapproval for the plans he may come up with; I simply aid where I am asked.”
Gin raises an eyebrow. “Surely your debt has been repaid after several hundred years?”
Louisa folds her hands together. “I see no reason to risk my life going elsewhere. Not unless I am given a compelling reason to do so.”
“A reason such as…?”
“Something that interests me.”
Louisa’s answer hangs in the air between them, heavy and thick as blood. Their food arrives a moment later, and still, Gin can feel the weight of the implication of her words digging into her flesh. They cut like a blade, burying themselves under Gin’s skin deeper than Dazai ever could manage. Perhaps Louisa really is no different from him.
Perhaps Gin does not care.
Her brother and Chuuya both danced with the devil and came out alive; why should Gin not take her chance to do the same?
When Gin returns Louisa to her residence, Louisa invites her inside. And though she knows better, Gin cannot find it in herself to decline. Her curiosity burns too brightly to ignore, and there is something flattering about capturing the attention of an age-old elf who is impressed by very little. She never understood why Chuuya and Ryuunosuke both fell for Dazai’s silver tongue the way they did, but now, she believes she gets it.
It feels nice to be called such an exception.
And though it burns to be known—to be sliced open by the gaze of someone who can peer into your very soul—it is also exhilarating in a way Gin did not believe possible.
She follows Louisa to her room, and out onto the balcony where the chill of the night bites her skin. But Louisa is warm beside her.
“I am curious about your wish,” Louisa says. “You do not long to be a man for the money, status, power, or respect. So what is it that motivates such a great desire?”
Gin looks down at their hands. Thin, delicate fingers. Both their skirt and hair dance in the wind. Those who see them like this interpret them as a graceful, elegant, woman. But that interpretation has never felt right when settled on their shoulders. For as far back as they can remember, being called girl simply felt wrong. As they grew, lady and woman joined the mix, but none of it seemed true to who Gin is.
Before they and Ryuunosuke found themselves in Hirotsu’s care, they lived as two orphans in the slums. They wore whatever rags they could find to keep them warm during the cold nights and Gin kept their hair cut short for reasons of practicability. In those days, most assumed they were two brothers. So long as Gin did not speak, the illusion held. It was both safer and more sensible for them to hide in such a disguise, but more than that, whenever Gin was called boy, a pleasant warmth spilled through their chest.
It’s a feeling they had not been able to recreate after Hirotsu took them in and they were rendered unable to hide their gender—not until they first stole Ryuunosuke’s clothes and snuck away, in search of a place where they could be anyone other than a nobleman’s daughter.
When they found somewhere they were unknown—somewhere they could present as a man and not be questioned for as long as they remained silent—they found that warmth again.
“It is hard to describe,” Gin answers. “But…I do not think I have ever felt like a woman. That is simply not who I am, in my heart.”
“I see,” Louisa muses. She turns, fully facing Gin, and lifts herself onto her toes so she can cup their face in her hands. “You are prettier than many princesses I have met over the course of my life. I believe you would make a very handsome man as well.”
Gin flushes.
They take hold of Louisa’s wrists, carefully lowering her hands. “It matters not. Even if you grant my wish, surely you cannot alter the memories of everyone who has seen me grow up. Should I undergo a magical transformation, it would cause more problems than it could ever solve. For both of us.”
“Both of us?” Louisa questions.
“To anyone else, I have no doubt it will be seen as a curse.”
Louisa slips out of Gin’s grasp, leaving their fingers cold in her absence. She turns away, looking out over the city. “I understand. But if you ever change your mind, it would be an honor to use my magic for your sake.”
Gin swallows thickly. They lift their gaze towards the sky. The stars shine, beautiful and mocking. For so long, Gin has wished and wished and wished to be someone other than who she is. But the truth about wishes is they cannot all come true, and the granting of one wish may only lead to more. If Gin becomes a man, they will turn to wishing for acceptance from their friends and family, and those who knew them as a girl to remember them only as a boy instead.
How cruel, to have your greatest desire within reach only to realize it will never be possible in the way you would like.
“You think too highly of me,” Gin tells Louisa softly. “I am no one important. I cannot imagine why you have directed your attention towards me; I cannot even use magic.”
“I am not looking for an apprentice,” Louisa replies. “And who are you to determine what I am drawn to?”
“But—”
“You have honed other skills, have you not?” Louisa turns a critical eye on her. “An ability to use magic does not determine one’s worth. You pinned me with only a blade. Many great sorcerers have fallen to those who fight with weapons alone.”
Dazai said something similar once, before he deemed Gin a failure and a waste of time to train. Before he poured all of his attention into attempting to beat Ryuunosuke into a worthy apprentice and playing disastrous games of attrition with Chuuya. He told Gin that someone who does not rely on magic to fight will have the greatest advantage over the most powerful mages—especially one like himself.
Especially one whose greatest trump card is an ability to nullify any spell that comes into contact with him.
Such magic is utterly useless against a blade.
“I suppose so,” Gin relents. “Still, I find it hard to believe I am the person in this town who managed to catch your interest.”
Louisa does not meet Gin’s eyes when she says, “It is as much about who you are as it is your wish. You make for nice company, Sir Gin.”
(The warmth that spreads through Gin’s blood at that is not from the title of address alone.)
Two nights later, Gin is half-drunk with their friends at the tavern. Tachihara is regaling them with the tale of a battle he supposedly fought years ago. Tanizaki and Atsushi are eagerly hanging onto every word while Naomi stares at him in disbelief. Gin isn’t sure how much of his story is true and how much is exaggeration, but it’s entertaining to listen to nonetheless.
He’s almost reached the climax of the battle when Gin senses a familiar behind them.
Louisa bows. “I’m really sorry to interrupt, but could I borrow Gin for a moment? There is an important matter I wish to discuss with him.”
Gin friends eye them warily.
“It’s fine,” they sign. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
They stand and follow Louisa outside, pretending not to notice the whispering voices of their friends as they go. They would appreciate it if Louisa did not engage with them while they look like this and in their every day life, but they suppose the latter wasn’t exactly her fault. They are both a victim of circumstance in that regard.
Still, seeking Gin out here seems highly unnecessary.
“I’ve discovered something,” Louisa says, as soon as they’re alone. “When you are here, your wish changes slightly. I failed to realize it at first because in your mind, it is the same desire, so it reads as the same wish regardless of how you look. But I’ve been analyzing it, and the exact details change ever so slightly based on how those around you perceive you.”
Gin has several questions. Such as why Louisa has been taking the time to analyze their wish, and what that even means, but most importantly—
“Does it matter?” they hiss.
Louisa nods. “When you are here, instead of simply wishing to be a man, your wish is that you could be seen like this—like the person you feel you are—at all times. Which means granting your wish would not be as simple as me turning you into a man.”
“…What are you saying?”
Louisa folds her hands together. “I cannot turn you into a man when you already are one in all but physical form.”
Gin’s mind spins. If that is true, then what would Louisa’s magic even do? Gin does not know the specifics of wish magic—has no idea how it works, if it is absolute, or if it leaves room for fault. Is it as crafty as Dazai, or can it truly come from a place of selflessness? How steep is the price?
Why is Gin even considering this—
“It would take an incredible amount of both mana and skill to adequately fulfill your wish,” Louisa continues. “A physical transformation is easy; altering the thoughts of an innumerable amount of people is much, much, harder. It would be a challenge even for me.”
“But…?” Gin coaxes, because there must be more Louisa wishes to say. She would not have initiated this conversation if there was no point to be made.
She smiles. “But I would love to try.” She spreads her hands a glowing ball of pure magic forming between them. “It has been a very long time since I last had a chance to push my power to its limit. I can do much more than Lord Francis deems me capable of. I could burn this kingdom to the ground and retrieve the Book from the ashes if he placed the responsibility of planning in my hands.”
A chill runs down Gin’s spine, and it has nothing to do with the cool night breeze.
There is no doubt Louisa can do exactly what she claims and more. Dazai once said that an elfin mage does not even have to be particularly skilled by the standards of their own species to far surpass the peak of human magic—the millennia of practice will give them strength beyond what one could ever achieve within the lifetime of a human. Francis is foolish if he does not see all Louisa could, and would gladly, do for him.
To alter the minds of Gin’s friends and family, though…
Is that something he can allow?
It goes against every moral code he can imagine, but the prize waiting at the end is impossible to pass up. If he agrees to this, he can live his life as he pleases every day; not just in stolen moments during nights where he sneaks away from the role he has been doomed to play forever. If he agrees to this, he can finally simply be himself.
It is as easy as asking Louisa to pledge her allegiance to him instead of Francis.
“You believe you could do it?”
Louisa nods.
“What about my voice and body?” Gin looks down at himself. With masculine clothes, he can hide his feminine form well enough, but his voice is something that has always posed a problem. No amount of thought-altering magic can change that as well.
“I have lived for thousands upon thousands of years,” Louisa says. “I know spells for just about anything you can imagine, and if I do not already know it, I will find one. There is magic that can deepen your voice, so I am certain there are ways to change your anatomy as well.”
“And what’s the catch?”
Louisa steps closer. She reaches out, taking one of Gin’s hands in hers. “Offer me sanctuary with you.”
It all sounds too easy. Chuuya’s voice in the back of his mind reminds Gin that trusting an elf is never a good idea, but Dazai is the only elf any of them have ever known. It is unfair to judge Louisa for his sins. And how could Gin turn down the perfect opportunity to receive everything he has ever dreamed of?
He lowers himself to one knee, bringing Louisa’s hand to his lips. He brushes a kiss against her knuckles.
“Whatever you wish,” he promises.
Louisa grins.