Not the Same
"Rubibiru?"
The words that he speaks have not changed. He calls me brother, and asks what is wrong and why I look at him strangely now. In my head, I try to rationalize things; so little is different, and yet it can never be the same. I can never be the same now. The tiny, high-pitched voice that he uses has not changed, the way that it purrs or catches or lilts remains constant. He tilts his head to look at me the way that he always has, with enormous red eyes glossy and empty as polished stone. His tail twitches, his shoulders roll as he crawls closer to me from across my dorm room. I am mesmerized by his movement over the carpet.
He is still Ruby Carbuncle, I try to tell myself, but it is not the small spirit that I see before me. It is a young man, covered in dark fur with strangely feline features. It is something odd and exotic and beautiful, and because of that, it cannot be my Ruby Carbuncle. I pray that it is not my Ruby Carbuncle when he reaches my feet and kneels there, staring up at me with those wide, inhuman eyes. He grabs me by the belt and begins to pull himself up my body. My breathing stops, my heart skips a beat. He is trying to climb me, the way that he always has, except that now he cannot. Ruby seems confused and annoyed by this.
"Rubibubiriru."
"Ruby. . ." I waver, falter in the face of this unfamiliar situation. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to react? I swallow hard and put my hands on his shoulders, helping him to his feet. He promptly wraps his arms around my neck and smiles. "Y-you can't do that anymore."
"Buru?" He does not understand. He hold me close and asks me why. I'm not sure I know how to tell him that this form, this big, not-quite human version of him, is disconcerting. I don't know how to tell him that it makes me want to run my hands over his chest and down his stomach to feel how soft and smooth he really is. I don't know how to ask if he can kiss with a mouth like that, with a restrictive flexibility of lips. There is no way to wonder what his rough tongue would feel like on me without a surge of guilt.
"You just can't, okay? We'll get you back to normal. Promise."
"Rubibiruburi."
I pray that he is only joking when he says that he likes this form better, because now he can hold me, too.