"This is so ridiculous," I sighed, looking at the thin, flat box sitting on my bed. I'd been in here for over an hour, somehow finding it ridiculously hard to even open the lid. I had some idea of what I was going to find in there—probably white tissue paper and then the delicate silk with its elaborate patterns. I knew what silk felt like. I knew it would flow through my fingers like water. But the significance of this kimono was what made it so difficult—this one was not a yukata like I'd been wearing most of my life. The bulky yukatas that filled my wardrobe were always a bit oversized—it made it easier to hide my growing feminine figure. The added effect was that they made me appear even thinner and smaller to keep the appearance of my illness going. Yes, I had been close to dying on several occasions. But every time I'd gained the slightest amount of weight, it would go to my breasts and my hips. Even my thighs were a little more rounded now that I was a grown woman. Just the thought of that word made my heart hammer even more heavily in my chest. Shigure knew, and Kureno, and Hatori and Ayame. Kureno, I'd kept on a short leash. Shigure, I'd pushed away partly out of spite and because of some terrible things that had happened in our past. Hatori knew because he was my doctor. Ayame didn't care and we had an unspoken agreement that I'd leave him alone if he'd leave me alone. And now, the secret was about to be out. I still stood there in my masculine yukata, plain white in the underneath layer and bright red with purple hems on the sleeves and collar. My breasts were still bound in the tight ace bandage that I'd been using since I was around twelve or thirteen when they were just tiny buds. I took one more careful check of the door to make sure it was locked, then let the outer robe fall to the floor. As I was unfastening the belt to the second robe, I glanced at myself in the mirror. My face was nearly as white as the robe, my dark gray-blue eyes wild with fear. My inky black hair was mussed, not that it really mattered anyway. I still looked like a man—albeit a crazy one. It was time to make peace with who I knew myself to be. I yanked the belt off as fast as I could and tossed the white robe across the room into the clothes basket. Then, I tugged the bandage away.
The cold rush of air was startling, almost painful at first. I took several deep breaths in just to try and get the hang of breathing properly for a change. The boxers I wore as part of the pretense followed. There. No trace of the old me remained other than the very short hair, something that could only be remedied with time. I stared hard at my reflection, at the angry red marks across my chest from having bound it too tight for several days in a row. My flesh was rebounding already, slowly regaining the shape it was supposed to have instead of what I'd forced it into. All the times Shigure and I were together, and all the times I was with Kureno as well, I'd never once gotten a good look in the mirror. I had been too afraid of what I might see. Both men had told me how beautiful I was at one time or another, but I had never once believed them. I still didn't, but I began to see tiny traces of what they might have glimpsed in the dim moonlight. My hair was arranged so that it went back from my face to make my cheeks more angular. I ran my fingers through it, pulling some of it forward so that it framed my face. Already, my face looked softer and less severe. Whenever I thought of Shigure, a faint smile played across my lips.
Won't he be surprised? I thought smugly.
There….
Thinking of him sent a flush to my cheeks and lips, partially ridding me of my severe pallor. I wasn't a man trying to contain all his emotions anymore. I was—am—just a silly little girl thinking about boys. For the first time ever, I can admit it to myself. Emboldened but still shaky, I wander over to the bed, still completely unclothed, and fling the lid away while I still have the courage. I toss bits of tissue every which way, sending them floating like enormous snowflakes. Then, at last, I retrieve the furisode from its resting place. Ayame chose well, I see. It's a wondrous navy blue that accentuates my coloring and has splashes of bright color where the flowers are. Intricate patterns weave through the silk. No wonder it cost a fortune—whoever created this piece of art really put their time and their passion into it. I cannot think of one single thing I've really devoted myself to in this manner. Step two, I know, is going to be finding something I'm good at other than causing trouble.
Getting dressed by myself in this thing is a battle on its own. Eventually, I have to get help. A stunned maid comes in and sees my true form—the curves—clad only in simple undergarments. She is old, however, and she's served in this house for many years. She tactfully doesn't say a word and her eyes only express momentary shock as she quickly rearranges the silk. I feel the tightness of it around my waist, but it isn't so tight that I find it oppressive. I can actually see my figure now, something I've never been able to see before.
"You look lovely, Akito-sama," she manages to say. I stare into her elderly, leathery, wrinkled face and her dark eyes. Has she ever had a daughter? I feel guilty suddenly for not knowing.
"Thank you," I say uneasily. My voice is still husky and lower-pitched. I learned to purposely lower my pitch as much as I could. I still don't sound exactly like a man—anyone who listens carefully would have heard it betray me. But everyone who noticed must have been too scared to ask. I feel as if I have a lump in my throat.
"There is…something missing," the maid says, "I'll be right back. I have something for you."
She disappears, leaving me alone to stare at my reflection. This feels so strange…I have more fabric on than I've ever worn in my entire life and I feel more exposed than ever. Thankfully, the maid comes in after a few minutes and interrupts my growing hysteria. She unwraps something and puts the layers of paper aside.
"This was my daughter's before she passed away," she said, "she wouldn't want it to be wasted, locked away out of sight and never used again. I want you to keep it. It will suit you."
She carefully places a comb in my hair that has a white flower blossom on it. The flower is so carefully made that you'd never know it was a jewel—there are even "dew" beads on the petals. But it's carved out of something more precious and longer lasting. The flower contrasts sharply with my black hair. She's right…it's just the thing I needed.
"Thank you," I say, more warmth in my voice than before. And I do something I've never done in the history of my life: I hug the hired help. She smiles.
"Is there anything else you need?"
"No, thank you," I say, "I just want to know when the others arrive."
Arrive, they do. Just as the anticipation makes me feel absolutely crazy, Hatori knocks on the door. I let him in, wishing I didn't feel so sick to my stomach.
"Nervous?" he asks quietly.
"Very."
In truth, I'm pouring off sweat and I hope no one notices that.
"The others are here. Do you need a minute?"
"No…If I have a single one more, I might throw up."
"All right. Let's go."
I lean on his arm to steady myself. Wonderful, dependable, strong Hatori…even if the dragon-spirit is gone, I will always think of him as my dragon. The one who could carry me through anything. I hope someday I can make up for all the pain I've caused him. He slides the door open and talks to the others for a moment. Then, he steps aside to let me come through.
Their reactions are all exactly what I expect: many of them have open mouths and wide eyes. Even Shigure. But I notice he's the first one to break into a grin, which makes me smile a little. Then, there's Tohru even though I didn't invite her. I suppose I should have expected this, as I never blatantly told her not to come. She gives me a big smile as well and I find myself returning it. After that incident with the cliff, I can't hate her though I still find her sugary personality very aggravating at times. Some things may never change.
Then, I tell them the truth and I don't force my voice to be low-pitched anymore. My voice isn't high and squeaky, but manages to be strong and feminine at the same time. I announce to them that they are free of me and that the curse is broken forever. After that, I feel dizzy with exhaustion and go to lie down for a bit. After Hatori confirms that it's just nerves, Shigure comes in to see me. I need air, so I go outside, sucking in deep lungful after lungful of flower-perfumed air.
"It suits you," he observes, gesturing to my furisode, "it really does."
"You're free of me…you don't have to…" I try to force out, but I'm not sure what I really want to say or even mean. He shuts me up by planting a very gentle, chaste kiss on my lips. It has the effect of making me feel like spring has come at last after a very long winter.
Is it all right, Papa? If I just live my life for me from now on?
In answer, I see a white dove take off across the garden.