Chapter Text
Another exhausting day, just walking up and down from college, like all the past weeks had been. All just the same.
His her feet hurt—ugh it was still hard getting used to it—, she thought it would be so much easier than this, but it had already been almost a year and she still had done nothing to change her situation, just trying new pronouns, that’s it.
“‘Everyone goes at their own pace’,” He she murmured to herself as she walked down the street, exhausted “yeah sure, whatever…”
A glimmering light passed besides her…
“It’s probably just a car” she was looking down and didn’t bother to look at it when it passed. Why should she? It was just a car.
The bus station was mostly empty. A couple people here and there who she was too scared to talk to.
Her feet hurt, like, really hurt. Her ankles were starting to give up on her, why did she decide to run all the way down? It was stupid. She knew perfectly well her feet could not take such a toll, yet she still did it. The reason was completely alien to her.
Field after field, town after town, the ride back home was as mindless as always. There wasn't much to do to be honest, it was pretty late and he she was starting to get sleepy—for fuck’s sake, get it right, Rose—, but just as she was to fall asleep the bus stopped, reaching its final destination.
The light in the streets was dim, not to the point where you could not see anything, but just enough to creep her out a little as she walked through them.
A rush of wind suddenly pushed her forward, a ball of messy unkempt hair stood in front of her, she looked worried. That managed to snap her back from her wandering mind, as she looked at the girl standing in front of her and then down she realized she had been walking in the wrong path. How did she not notice?
“Oh my gods, oh my gods, are you okay?” the girl approached her, her ears raised, fully alerted over the fact she almost ran someone over. “I was looking down and I didn't see you, I'm sorry.”
“I— It's alright… don't worry.” Her raspy voice clearly sounded like someone who hadn't talked for a long time; it made sense honestly, his her voice was… deep. “I'm good, I— I didn't realize I was walking in the uma lane, sorry.”
“It's alright, it's late after all.” The girl checked her phone and an expression of horror formed in her face. “I gotta go now, have a good night, sir.”
Sir…
She watched the small uma take off at an unfathomable speed. She looked into the distance, seeing her get smaller and smaller in a matter of seconds.
“I wish I could do that.”
Her eyes teared up as she lost the girl among the streets, while she… stood there… longing…
She moved her left leg back and flexed her right one, staring down the street and making sure no one else was there but her.
She began to run forward, increasing her pace as she kept running…
And she kept running…
And running…
The air hit her face in a way she rarely felt, it was… nice.
She loved it, she loved the feeling running caused in her. She wished she could do that more often.
Just like those umas…
Then. It happened.
The pain manifested itself. Her ankles started to burn. She could not keep up. She had to stop.
But she couldn't.
She kept running, as if unable to control her own body.
The pain was unbearable. It hurt so much.
She collapsed.
The ground was cold and wet, but she somehow found it comfortable, she felt like she could sleep there— no. She needed to get up.
With what little strength she had left she tried to push herself up, tried to stand up, but her legs were too weak, they were too tired, broken… unworthy.
She managed to grab onto a lamppost and started, painfully, making her way back home. It hurt, it hurt so much, but it hurt more to be seen in this state, making a mockery of herself, showing to the world how pathetic she was for wanting to be something she couldn’t.
For wanting to be like them…
She managed to reach the door, falling to the ground as she frantically searched for her keys.
Her house was… functional, one could call it an utilitarian’s dream. It had only the bare essentials.
She dragged herself across the floor to her bedroom and immediately laid in her bed, tired, exhausted, yearning for something—something she did not care to know.
The bedsheets were warm and welcoming, she pressed them against herself, making her feel like her body wasn’t what everyone else perceived, disgusting… She couldn't help but flood her mind with these thoughts, that she wasn’t a woman, that she would never be seen as one, that all that she was good for was being the man she was born as.
He She couldn’t keep it within herself, tears flooded her pillow, her cries were muffled by it, she couldn’t bear with the pain that they brought upon her.
She didn't want this, she didn't choose this, she didn't decide to be like that. She just wanted… to be herself… at least for a bit.
The bedsheets rubbed against her clothes. It was uncomfortable. The sun was rising in the horizon. Her head felt terrible, actually, she felt terrible, in general. More than usual anyways.
She tried to get out of bed, but when her feet pressed against the cold wooden flooring, an intense pain spread through her whole body.
“NONONONO FUCK!” Her scream was accompanied with tears.
“I’ll have to call campus and say I'm not gonna be able to go… which means…” A shiver ran down her spine as the mere thought of what that meant ran through her mind. “Maybe I should call a doctor first tho…”
The dial rang loudly through the, mostly empty, home. Until a cheerful voice broke that monotony.
“Hi! What can I help you with?”
“H— Hi, y— yeah… I— I'd like to… schedule an… appointment…” Ugh she hated phone calls so much, why did she have to do this?
“Alright, no problem, what for?”
“I— I think I… s— sprained m— my ankles.”
“How bad does it hurt?”
“P— Pretty badly… I— I can barely s— stand.”
“Alright, give me a second, I'll see if there’s any time available today.”
“T— Thank y— you.”
“No problem.”
An awkward moment of silence later, the receptionist spoke again.
“We have a slot at 10:30 would that be okay with you?”
“Y— Yeah…”
“Alright, and to what name should I make this appointment?”
“…” “Fuck.” She forgot about this.
She froze, unable to say anything, her mind starting to spiral again. Only the voice at the end of the line managed to snap her back to reality once again.
“Hello? Ma’am are you still there?”
Ma— Ma’am?
“I— uhh… yeah…”
“If there’s any sort of problem with that, your health card number can work too.”
“Oh! Uh… Y— Yeah sure…”
“Alright, one more question, would you like us to send someone to come pick you up? Since you said you can barely walk…”
“I— Uh… No, it's fine… I—” She muttered as she tried to take a step, an immediate surge of pain rushed up her leg and made her almost scream. “A— Actually… n— no I— I think I… I need a r— ride…”
“No worries, we’ll call you to pick you up.”
“T— Thank y— you”
She dropped to the ground, in pain, and crawled her way to her couch so she could lay down for a bit. Why had she done that last night? Why did he she had to run—for the love of the fucking gods, get it right!—… Wait… Did the receptionist call her “ma’am”? W— What?? D— Did she pass OVER THE PHONE??
While she lost her mind over what had happened, a flashing light crossed through her window. She, however, was too focused on figuring out how to process her current situation to notice.
A knock on her door brought her back to the real world, so hard, in fact, that it made her jump and fall off the couch. Clinging to the sparse furniture, she managed to make her way to the door with minimal trouble.
“Hello, I’m here to pick up someone with an ankle sprain…” The man at the door looked down to find her almost flat against the floor “… I’m guessing it’s you?”
She didn’t say anything, she just looked at him and nodded.
“Alright, let’s get going then.”
He grabbed her hand and helped her stand up straight, and they made their way to the car.
“Yeah, it looks like a sprain.” The doctor gently massaged her feet, something that made her recoil in pain. “Sorry if it hurts, I just need to check how bad it is.”
She let her go and returned to his desk. “It’s not something you should worry about, it should heal itself in a week or two, though I would suggest you don’t put too much pressure in them, we’ll give you crosses you you can move around but again, try not to do it too much, you’ll just make it take longer.”
“T— Thank you…” She muttered, softly.
“No worries, sir, we’ll take you back so don’t worry about walking home, just go wait outside for a moment.”
Sir…
The ride back home was uneventful, the only things to see were the empty streets, at this time no one was gonna be out, it was a weekday so both kids and adults were doing their own things, whether it’d be school or work.
Then she remembered that damned phone call. She would have to call the university to let them know what happened, but what was she gonna say “Oh I tried to run so fast I managed to destroy my legs and now I can’t go to campus for like half a month”? Who was she kidding, that sounded ridiculous. Whatever, she’d come up with something better later.
Her legs still hurt from yesterday. It wasn’t as bad as her ankles but she had only noticed now that they itched a bit. It was a shame she didn’t have the endurance of an uma…
Look at you, you can’t even walk now, and you want to run? Pathetic. Honestly pathetic. Stop chasing this childish dream, you know you won’t have it, you know it’s not possible. You should do what you were born to do and be a man. And if you’re not going to do that then you might as well just open this damned door and ju—
“Okay, we’re here!” The cheerful voice of the driver managed to dissolve all her thoughts away. She thanked him with a respectful bow and she walked inside.
The somber interior greeted her, rather unwelcomingly. She made her way to her bed where she laid down and spent the rest of her day there, doomscrolling.
The next day was the same, only this time, she remembered—for a third time—she had to call campus. But it— ugh. It was tiring to have to hear that… But whatever, it had to be done either way and it's not like complaining would do anything to change it.
The dial tone once again resonated against the silence of the empty rooms, creating a sort of mesmerizing sounds that hypnotized her. She began to feel tired, like she was about to fall asleep, but right before she could do that, they picked up.
“Hi, ██████, what can I do for you, sir?”
…
…
He She hung up. Tears flowing out of her eyes. “Why why why why why WHY?!” Her bedsheets were getting soaked. “WHY CAN'T I JUST BE LIKE THEM WHY DO I HAVE TO GO THROUGH ALL THIS BULLSHIT?! WHY CANT I JUST… BE ME?!”
Her sobs were loud, her screams louder. She had been bottling up for a while now, so when she heard that… she just couldn't hold it in. Minutes passed, then an hour. She laid there, looking up at the ceiling, unmoving. Almost… unliving.
She spent the rest of her week doing the same, waking up, doomscrolling, eating something at midday, doomscrolling some more and then sleeping.
Some people would've called this routine completely miserable… They'd be absolutely right.
She managed to heal up quickly, it's not like doing nothing for a week would've made the recovery harder. She could go back to…
Normal…
…
At this point why would it matter? What difference would it make to go back to what she was doing before? It wouldn't change a thing, she would still feel the same just… even more stressed…
She went out into the street. The sun had barely risen, it was still cold and dark outside, but she couldn't help it.
She looked into the distance, a straight line, about 200 or so meters of flat asphalt laid in front of her.
She wanted to run.
She wanted to go with them.
She wanted to be them.
A step. One single step and she would do it. She would not stop until her body forbade her. She would run. Forever.
And so a step she took.
And then another.
And then a third one.
She began sprinting, trying to run as fast as she could.
The breeze hitting her face, the air rushing through her ears… It all felt so… alien… distant… but yet, it had a sense of familiarity… of comfort. She tried to embrace it, rest in its arms and feel welcomed into it.
Her legs felt heavy, and she struggled to move them quickly, but she persisted.
Stop.
Her ankle.
It hurt.
It burned.
It was breaking.
But she didn't stop.
You're not worthy.
The other ankle soon followed.
She kept running.
You can't even hold yourself together, you think you deserve this?
Her knees began to feel weak.
Each step carried with it a pain so intense it would've made anyone stop and drop to the ground.
But not her.
She kept pushing.
This is what you want? To be like them? You can't, and you know you can't.
Stop feeding your delusions. You are not a kid anymore, give up on these childish fantasies.
She…
Kept…
Running…
…
The outside world looked… darker…
She felt herself slow down…
She could not keep up…
She couldn't be like them…
Each step felt like a million rocks were placed on her feet.
She could barely stand up.
And so, eventually, she collapsed.
Her face hit the ground. Every noise outside was gone. The color did too disappear.
It all faded to black as she rested, face down, mourning.
The bright lights greeted her vision, blinding her. Where was she?
This wasn’t her house… nor the street…
She was in a… bed?
“Ah, I see you’re awake.” A sudden voice startled her, making her jump, almost falling, again. “I believe we have met before, haven’t we?”
She looked back only to be greeted by a familiar face, the same doctor she had seen a couple weeks prior was standing there with a confident smile.
“W— What h— happened?” She tried to get up, an itch on her legs made it hard to move them, but he quickly moved to stop her and bring her back to position.
“Careful there, you messed up your legs pretty badly and you passed out in the middle of the street. Luckily someone called us so we could bring you here.”
“I— what?” She was having a hard time understanding anything he was saying.
“In part, it's my fault. I should've told you that just because your ankles would take about a week to recover, doesn't mean you can run at full force instantly, it will just make it worse. So I apologize for that.” He took a quick look at her. “I take it you're a pretty active racer?”
“I…” She looked down, frowning. “No… not really…”
“Unfortunately…” She whispered in such a quiet voice.
“Ah, I could've bet you were, you have the physique for it.” He replied just as he gave a light chuckle. “Hell, if you weren't a man, you could be an umamusume.”
If I weren't… a man…
Of course…
“I'm sorry.” The man gave her a more serious look. “I got a bit carried away there.”
“I— It’s— s… f— fine.” Her words came out messed up, she could feel an explosive emotion growing inside her.
“…”
“C— Can I— I… g— go now…?”
“I would say you can, though you'll probably have to use a wheelchair or crutches again, your choice.”
Back home.
Back to the same hell.
Back to revelling… in misery…
Same routine…
Same empty days…
Same numbness…
Same meaninglessness...
…
Why was she even trying any more…
She wouldn't get anywhere…
You should be grateful.
This way you'll realize how stupid that dream of yours is.
Why…
Why did she have to go through this…
It's your punishment.
For thinking you could be anything else than what you were born as.
And that is a horrible, disgusting, wretched…
Man.
Now you'll suffer through the consequences of even thinking you could change that.
Just accept it.
Go back.
You know you want to.
You know you want to go back to being—
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” But no one was there.
Her tears blurred her vision, she could not see anyone close to her. Her movements became uncoordinated as she tried—and failed—to move around her house to find the origin of that voice.
She dragged herself across the floor for hours until her arms ultimately gave up.
She cried.
And cried…
The day turned into night, she kept crying.
And when sleep caught up to her, she didn't move. She kept crying.
A massive headache welcomed her to the next day.
“What… What happened yesterday…?” Her mind felt completely foggy, blocked from any thoughts.
She looked down at her bandaged legs, “Right… that…”
She tried to push herself up a bit, but to no avail, her arms were still too weak to lift her body off of the floor.
She dragged herself back to her room. Grabbing her phone to try and figure out how long she had been on the cold floor.
Midday.
She just… didn't care anymore.
She didn't feel anything.
Her mind, obscured with numbness and nothingness.
What was the point of everything?
Now you understand.
Would anyone miss her if she just… disappeared?
They wouldn't.
No… of course not, she didn't have anyone to miss her…
She would just…
The silver shined against the bright daylight.
“This is what I want.”
A red line marked the silver…
Damaging it…
Staining it…
…
It felt…
Liberating…
Good.
The wine kept staining…
It reached the floor…
Her clothes…
Her skin…
All covered in red.
She looked at herself, looked at what she had achieved. She felt…
Proud.
“Maybe I'll get another chance.”
She contemplated her work. What she had done to her skin. The blood that covered it.
Her mind snapped.
She began to feel weak.
She felt… regret.
She tried her best to revert her doing, but she couldn't…
Her body became weak, her mind began to flee.
She could only feel one thing as everything turned to black. Peace.
A silver lightning rushed through her vision. Something that struck her as… odd. She, however, paid it no mind as she accepted her fate…
And closed her eyes.