Chapter one

Mirror, mirror on the wall

I am not a girl.

Ritsuka repeated the mantra to himself again and again as he sat alone on the bathroom floor, his back pressed against the porcelain bathtub. The tile was cold against his feet, the tub still chilly, even through his shirt. Drops of blood dotted the otherwise stainless blue tile flood, scattered amongst the shards of broken mirror, some of which were still clutched in his hands. Still, he could see his reflection staring blankly back at him from the broken mirror, and it just ignited the fire within all over again. It burned throughout him, and fiery tears diluted the blood droplets on the floor. That reflection stared back at him, and he hated what he saw.

I am not a girl. I am not a girl. I am not a girl.

Over and over, again and again. Don't stop. He needed to believe it. He needed to know that that person staring back at him was him. Her words were not getting to him. He was not beginning to believe them. No, no, no! He was a boy, a guy, a male, just as he'd been born. He was normal, completely and absolutely normal. Still, his mind betrayed him, the frustration only building again as that other person in the shards of glass met his eyes.

Why do I feel so wrong?

She had always wanted Ritsuka to be a girl. She'd always expected him to be a girl. The doctors had told her he was a girl. A boy child and a girl child—that was the perfect picture for her family. Not two boy children. No, that was imperfect, an offset of the balance he knew she needed. And she couldn't change it. She'd never forgotten her want for Ritsuka to have been born a female. Up until six months ago, though, she'd apparently kept it to herself, probably able to keep it hidden since Ritsuka wasn't exactly the most masculine little boy. But her mental stability had been faltering ever since Ritsuka lost his memories five years ago, and now it was on a steady decline.

She'd even given Ritsuka a female name. That was something that reminded him of not being good enough every day. He wrote it on his papers, answered to it when teachers called on him, logged in to every online server with it; there was no way to get away from it. He was beginning to hate his name. He had gotten made fun of, in the past, ridiculed for having such a misnomer. And he couldn't do anything about it, just like how she couldn't do anything about him being a him. The only time he didn't completely despise it was when it was said by a particular man, a man Ritsuka needed right now.

I need you, He tapped out on his phone, clutching it so hard his knuckles turned white. Oh, how he loved it when Soubi said his name, how it always sounded just right. It was sometimes followed by a smile, other times with a light kiss. The only time Ritsuka could feel just right anymore was when he was around Soubi. With him, there was no confusion, no frustration, no built up self hatred. There was only Ritsuka, the boy who hated to go home because it would mean feeling like a girl and denying it again.

Weakly, Ritsuka reached for the Kleenex box by the sink, trying not to look at the remnants of the mirror on the floor. Sniffling, he pressed a layer of Kleenexes to his bleeding hand, watching as the red blossomed through the white, spreading quickly and soaking through the layer of cloth. He sat back against the tub again, wanting to take a bath, but not wanting to do it at his house. A bath here would only remind Ritsuka of how wrong he felt. But a bath at Soubi's house was soothing and relaxing, especially when Soubi sat in the bathroom and talked with him.

A soft ringing from Ritsuka's phone interrupted his thoughts. He looked at the caller ID and ignored the call, seeing that it was from Soubi. He must've worried him enough to make him call instead of just text back. Ritsuka leaned his head back against the tub, holding the Kleenex to his left hand, smiling grimly. Typical Soubi. He was always so worried. It was shocking, really, that he hadn't found out what was happening yet. Then again, Soubi really wasn't the type to go rifling through Ritsuka's things to find his locked diary. He probably didn't even know that he kept one, since most boys didn't.

His head snapped up again at the thought. That was another thing to add to the list. There had to be a way out of this, a way to make it stop. Maybe if he could make himself like the things that other boys did, everything would be fixed. He'd have to pay more attention to the boys at school, watch them a bit more closely than he already did. Everyone was older than him, anyways, even if it was only by a year. He'd been moved up a grade and was in his second year of high school, making him only just turned fifteen, while everyone else was sixteen. Not only that, but Soubi had persisted in making him test into the best schools, so not only was everyone older than him, they were also highly critical.

I can't talk, He texted to Soubi, explaining why he hadn't picked up the phone. The real reason he hadn't picked up the phone was just that—he hadn't wanted to go into a crying fit during a phone call. He'd learned by now that Soubi didn't mind the crying fits, but if he was going to go into one, it'd be better to have Soubi here, with him, so that he could hold onto him and make the frustration and confusion and feelings of being in the wrong body dissolve into the darkness of his mind. If Ritsuka could have Soubi here with him, he wouldn't be tempted to pick up a shard of glass, hold it to his arm, and do what he'd been too terrified to do before.

Ritsuka's phone vibrated, buzzing and crawling slightly on the blood-dotted floor. He ignored it for a moment, too absorbed in his pain. I need to try harder. The thing was, he had been trying as hard as he could to act normal. It was all wrong, though. It wasn't right. It didn't feel right. He couldn't ever be good enough.

Finally, he picked up the phone, reading through Soubi's message. I'm coming over. It was no longer a question, it was now a statement. Soubi knew him well enough to know that Ritsuka would never say no to him coming over. Over the three years they'd known each other, their relationship had only grown. Every day, Ritsuka's love for Soubi increased as the man continuously saved him from himself without even knowing it. There was one thing he didn't even try to deny, and that was that he loved Soubi.

Ritsuka looked again at the shattered mirror, the mirror he had broken with his own hands. He barely remembered breaking it. When the frustration and rage took over, there was no control left. Now, he could see his face looking back at him, the reflection's lips seemingly twitching upwards in the beginning of a crooked, mocking smile. You think you're a girl, it laughed cruelly. He covered his eyes with a loud cry that really sounded more like a whimper, and hid his face in his hands, hiding far, far away from the boy laughing at him.

I'm not a girl. I'm not a girl.

Why can't I just feel normal? Why do I feel so wrong in this body?

He was never able to escape this feeling, except when he was with Soubi. It was the worst here at home, where he was reminded everyday how much his mother had wanted him to be a girl. It was bad at school, too, where all the kids were bigger than him and teased him for the slightest things, even jeering at him when he would scurry off to the bathroom to change for gym. He did everything wrong. He wasn't like the other boys. He tried and tried to be like them, to do the things they did, but nothing ever worked. It was hopeless, a lost cause. Why even attempt it anymore?

I am not a girl.

His breathing deepened, his hands clenching in his hair, pulling hard. He repeated those five words over and over, the anger inside building up and boiling over. It bubbled in his stomach, making him sick, making him want to throw up all his feelings and lay on the bathroom floor, numb to everything else. Finally, finally after what seemed like forever, Ritsuka pulled his hands out of his hair, peeking out from behind the shield he had made with his body, making sure that Soubi wasn't already there. The open bathroom door showed his still empty room. Ritsuka knew he didn't have much time. Soubi would be here soon.

He scurried up, tumbling over his own feet in an attempt to rush out of the bathroom floor. He nearly tripped on a large piece of the glass, but that didn't stop him. He needed to change before Soubi saw him.

Ritsuka had a secret, a horrible, terrible secret. He hid it from everybody, even Soubi, and this secret creating many smaller branches of secrets. No one knew the pain and frustration his secret created. He kept it all inside, letting everyone else think that he was just a normal boy with normal problems, a normal boy who was just quiet in class and self conscious to dress in front of others. That wasn't the case. That was totally wrong. Ritsuka wasn't a normal boy. He wasn't even sure that he was a boy. He didn't feel normal. He felt as if he was in the wrong body, as if he had the body of a male, but the mind of a female.

He didn't always feel this way; there were times when he felt normal. He hadn't always felt this way, either. It had started when his mother had begun beating him for not being a girl. That was the source of all the confusion, as well as starting a new school. In elementary and middle school, nobody had cared that he didn't play sports or that he did feminine things. In high school, however, things were completely different, especially when he was the youngest kid, and he stood out.

Things were just getting worse for him. Before, he would only occasionally feel like there was something wrong with him. As his mother got worse, so did he. When his mother beat him for being the wrong gender more frequently, he, in turn, started to feel like the wrong gender more frequently. It only got worse, never better. Now, he was rushing to hide one of the branching off secrets—that he sometimes dressed in feminine clothing. He couldn't let Soubi see him like this. He already publicly wore clothing that was nearly crossing into female clothing. If anyone knew that he wore female clothing when he was alone, they would immediately know his secret.

Ritsuka darted to his closet, getting blood all over the floor in the process of doing so. His hand was still bleeding, as was his arm, and heavily so. He could still feel rather large glass shards in it and could see visible pieces sticking out of his pale skin. That wasn't the problem he was focusing on now, though. Soubi would be here very, very soon. What would he do if he knew his secret? The problem he was focusing on now, though. Soubi would be here very, very soon.

He slammed the door to his closet in a flurry to hide the evidence and stood in his pitch dark closet, breathing hard and straining his kitten ears forward, listening for Soubi. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth on his heels, trying to ward off the feelings of not being normal and being an alien in his body. He only did this for a moment, since he fully knew that this was futile and would not work. It hadn't been any use before. He didn't think his tactic would suddenly start working.

Slowly, Ritsuka felt around for the long string that would turn the light on. He found it after only a few moments and pulled harshly at it, causing the string to break off from the contraption just as blinding light flooded the large closet, illuminating the façade that Ritsuka was. He stood with a string in his hands, his mind blank as he stared around at all his clothes. He hated dressing for school. Soubi would probably expect him to either have regular clothes on or his uniform. For school, he had to wear a very unique uniform, one that was dark gray with bright, almost electric blue accents. That wasn't the thing he hated about it, though; it was that there were uniforms for girls and uniforms for boys, and Ritsuka would rather wear the girls' uniform than the boys'. He would rather wear the blue ribbon under the collar than the tie, and would like a skirt better than the stiff, heavy black pants.

Silently, he stripped himself of the over sized, off-the-shoulders pink anime t-shirt he was wearing, letting it fall to the ground in a heap. He looked down at himself, seeing the lacy, rainbow striped panties he wore instead of boxers. He sighed, wondering if it was safe to leave them on. He hated wearing boxers. It was uncomfortable. He liked the soft feel of woman's underwear and the lace and bright colors. That was the reason he couldn't change in front of the other boys. If they knew that Ritsuka wore panties, they would beat him up and mock him to no end. Everyone else would find out, and then all the kids would be cruel to him and then the principal would find out and end up calling Soubi and…

This was hell. Absolute, total hell. He needed Soubi. He needed him now. The pain was becoming overwhelming again, just as it did every night he spent without Soubi. It was always better with Soubi. This feeling, this overpowering, sickening feeling, always went away when he was with Soubi. Around him, Ritsuka never had the urge to dress like a girl or to hurt himself out of frustration.

He clenched his hands in a fist, stumbling to the back of the closet and sitting down against the back of the wall. He closed his eyes, realizing just how pathetic he was. He was sitting alone in a closet, nearly naked, still bleeding from a mirror he broke because he felt like a fucking girl. How stupid. How pathetic. How embarrassing. There was no reason to feel like this. He was not a girl. He was a boy, a gay boy with a loving, gentle older boyfriend. He should be grateful. Sure he had a mother who beat him, but he could always move in with Soubi. There was nothing wrong with his life. He shouldn't be feeling like this.

Straining his ears again, Ritsuka opened large box he kept the girl clothes in. The box was pushed out of the way, shoved under his normal hung up clothing and labeled as clothing too small for him. About a month ago, he had dumped all of the small clothes out of the box and had taken a car ride with his dad to drop them off at a resale shop, though he had kept the big cardboard box. There was nothing abnormal about it, so Ritsuka could easily hide the dresses and skirts and girly shirts he had. Soubi never suspected anything. Neither did his mother or anyone else. It was the perfect way to conceal the burning, rising secret within.

Ritsuka stood again, having recovered slightly from the attack he suddenly had of the secret banging around in his body and attempting to get out. He glanced around the closet, unable to decide on what to wear. What would seem the most inconspicuous? The school uniform, probably, since Ritsuka had been wearing that when Soubi picked him up from school earlier and taken him to his house before leaving for a university class. He didn't want to wear that, though. He didn't like the tight tie that he could barely put on by himself and the pants that were too long and hot, especially in the warmer weather.

He decided to settle for a simple t-shirt and a pair of shorts that nearly reached his knees. He slipped on a red button up shirt over his black t-shirt, leaving it open and finally allowing himself a long look in the full length mirror on the back of the door. He didn't mind boy clothes, as long as it was something like this, and not formal wear or masculine clothing. He simply preferred more feminine clothing, not necessarily girls' clothing. No one could see that he was wearing panties, so he'd be fine leaving them on. Soubi could see him like this. This, after all, was the way Ritsuka normally dressed.

He had made it just in time. He could hear the telltale sounds of Soubi on the balcony and then the sliding glass balcony doors opening. He shyly stepped out of the closet, holding his injured hand and looking up at Soubi as he came inside the room.

"Come here, Ritsuka."

Ears pinned back against his head, Ritsuka stepped into Soubi's warm, loving embrace. Soubi never seemed to change. In the past two years, Soubi hadn't changed much. He still looked the same, still felt the same, still loved him more than anything. The only thing that had changed about him was his personality. He was no longer the man who'd asked Ritsuka to punish him. He wasn't the liar Ritsuka had thought he was when he was twelve. He never asked the teen to punish him anymore, and he had lost most of his submissive qualities. He had acknowledged that he was the adult in their relationship, and therefore the one that had to lead.

Soubi took care of Ritsuka and Ritsuka took care of Soubi. It went both ways. He knew that there were times when Soubi would become overwhelmed with depression, probably stemming from Seimei, and, though he hadn't become sad lately, Ritsuka would try his hardest to ignore his own problems and cheer Soubi up. That hadn't happened in months, though, and Ritsuka was glad that Soubi was able to move on from abusive, powerful Seimei.

"Your hand, Ritsuka…" Soubi pried Ritsuka's left hand from where it was clenching the front of his jacket. "What did she do?"

Ritsuka could only pull away and weakly point at the broken mirror in the bathroom, lying to Soubi once again and feeling ashamed for it. He lied to him so much now. Soubi knew almost everything about him, all his secrets, his deepest thoughts, except for this huge, terrible secret that was tearing him apart from the inside out. He never suspected Ritsuka to do anything like lie to him, so he was never suspicious of him. He wouldn't find out Ritsuka's secrets unless the boy told him himself.

Not an hour later, Ritsuka found himself at Soubi's house again, for what felt like the tenth time that week. Warm water surrounded him, washing away his troubles, the wet feeling overtaking everything else. Soubi sat on the bathroom floor, his back against the tub Ritsuka reclined it, making it so he could easily sit up and wrap his arms around Soubi from behind him. The distress he had felt at home, in his own bathroom and even undressing in the closet, was long forgotten and gone. He couldn't even recall how it had felt, only that he didn't want to go home because it meant feeling it again.

His injured left hand was draped over the side of the tub, near Soubi, bandaged and disinfected by the older man he loved. It was dry, since he couldn't put it in the water, so he tentatively reached a hand out and threaded his fingers in Soubi's soft blonde hair, wanting to get out of the bath so he could cuddle with him. Perhaps he would finally find the courage to have Soubi touch him. Every time they got close, he always gave Soubi permission to take off his pants, to touch his eager, young cock and finally give him fuel to his fantasies, but whenever Soubi looked at him, slipping his hands to the front of Ritsuka's pants, the boy always pushed his hands away and ran to the bathroom.

Soubi looked back at him smiling slightly as Ritsuka leaned over the bathtub and ran his hands through Soubi's hair. He wanted to kiss him, to thank him for taking all the pain away, for making everything better, complete, just right.

"What are you reading?" Ritsuka asked him quietly, breaking the comfortable silence in the bathroom.

"An art magazine," Soubi answered, leaning his head back. Ritsuka, in turn, scooted forward in the bathtub and wrapped both arms around Soubi's neck, leaning down to press his face into the place where his shoulder and neck met. Everything just felt so right here, like he was meant to be here, with Soubi, showing him the affection Seimei never gave him.

"Wash my hair, Soubi," Ritsuka laughed softly, giggling like a girl for a moment. Right now, it didn't matter to him that he laughed like a girl. He'd worry about that later. He couldn't feel bad about that even if he tried. Here, he had nothing to worry about. Soubi never pointed out that he looked like a female, or acted like one, or did things only girls would do. Neither did Natsuo, Youji or Kio. Here, he could be who he wanted. Here, he could feel normal for once.

An hour later, Ritsuka found himself being held by Soubi, the two of them laying on the floor, on a makeshift roll up futon, the Zero boys above them on the couch, doing god knows what. They were supposed to be watching a movie, but Ritsuka had dozed off after a long day of frustration, pain, and violence from his mother. When he'd protested about going to bed, Soubi had gotten up and made up the futon bed. That was how he'd ended up laying with Soubi, not even watching the movie anymore.

He was half-asleep, simply listening to the movie, his face pressed into Soubi's shirt. The other two were moaning on the couch, but he wasn't paying attention to them. He was just happy that he couldn't feel that despair and frustration with his gender anymore. It had faded into the back of his mind, retreated into darkness, chased away by his love for Soubi and how comfortable he was with him.

"Ritsuka, we really should go to the bedroom," Soubi whispered. Ritsuka just shook his head and cuddled closer. Soubi sighed, giving up on trying to get Ritsuka to move. He was just too comfortable. Everything was right here, and it felt as though nothing could destroy that.

He dreaded going home and would do anything to avoid it. He would stay here as long as he could without having to return.

Two days later, though, he found himself on his doorstep, his overnight bag on one arm, trembling slightly. He shoved his bandaged hand into his pocket, not wanting to look at what he'd done. He tore his gaze away from his clothes, pushing away the thoughts of how much he wanted to wear a dress or a skirt or something with lace, and looked up at Soubi, ears pressed hard back against his head.

"I have to go back, Soubi," Ritsuka whispered, hating this, hating his mother, hating how he was standing here feeling like he lived in two different worlds. One world was with Soubi, where he felt perfect and normal in every way, the other world being here, at home. Here it was terrible. He couldn't seem to sort one feeling out from another. He could never feel 'normal' here anymore. It was as if there was something wrong and Ritsuka couldn't figure out what it was. Or maybe he could figure it out, but he just tried day after day to deny it.

Soubi leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss on Ritsuka's lips before pulling him into a tight, squeezing hug. Oh, how Ritsuka was tempted, tempted to spill everything, tempted to beg him to take him away from here. He couldn't live with his mother any longer. He couldn't leave her alone. He couldn't take all of anger anymore. He couldn't leave her, though, not when she would most likely find someone else to displace it all on, or worse, herself. If he left, what would she do? What if she killed herself? It would be entirely his fault if she did. She was his mother. He had to care for her. It was his duty.

Soubi whispered an 'I love you' in Ritsuka's ear and he could only squeeze the man harder. Still, he was the one to pull away, knowing that he had to get this over with sooner or later. Sooner would be better. That way he could lock himself in his room and fight with himself until Soubi came to say goodnight. Fighting with himself was, ironically, better than fighting with his mother. This way he could get some homework done, too, for tomorrow was the dreaded Monday.

` "I'll come say goodnight when my classes are over," Soubi reminded him again, and Ritsuka never got tired of hearing it. It was good to know that someone cared enough for him to come over every night to say goodnight. His mother never said goodnight. His father tried his best to call every night, but he could be a bit absentminded sometimes, especially when he was off doing business in England. Seimei, of course, was AWOL and Ritsuka was beginning to wonder if he'd ever show his face again or if Ritsu-sensei and the rest of Septimal Moon had finally succeeded in catching him.

"Promise?" Ritsuka asked, just to make sure. Sometimes, he thought he imagined Soubi's sweet words, since he never seemed to receive them from anyone else. Other times he thought that Soubi was simply an illusion his mind had created to keep the loneliness at bay and keep his loveless mind from doing anything rash. It wouldn't surprise him. He knew from his psychology classes what one's mind could do, the power it had over the body and senses. He knew that wasn't true, though. Those thoughts were just to keep his torn mind occupied when he was at home. Besides, if Ritsuka had an imaginary friend, it certainly wouldn't be an eccentric long-haired university student. It would at least be something more normal.

"I promise," Soubi smiled, sealing the promise. Ritsuka's heart fluttered, suddenly distracted by Soubi's beautiful smile. He believed him. He couldn't remember the last time Soubi had broken an important promise like this. "Be careful, Ritsuka, alright?"

Ritsuka just nodded and silently dug out his key from his pocket, using his bandaged hand to unlock the door. His mind soared with false hope, which was the first sign of his desperation and the first turn on the road to pain. Maybe his mother wouldn't be here.

He didn't glance back at Soubi, even when he slipped inside the dark house. Those feelings were coming back from the darkness, reigniting themselves, making him shake and quiver with the fear and the new onset of even worse frustration.

In the entry hall was a mirror, a polished glass mirror. It hung across from the door, and Ritsuka was met with his reflection as soon as he walked in the door. His hands clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his own skin, making crimson bead beneath his fingers on his un-bandaged hand. His reflection stared back at him, glaring at him, unblinking. Its lips curled up in the beginning of an evil smile. Ritsuka made the opposite expression in retaliation. Why did that boy in the mirror seem so different from him? They were the same, but Ritsuka couldn't stand the sight of the other. He mocked him, copying his expression. Ritsuka looked away, dropping its gaze.

The frustration bubbled again, threatening to boil over and to spill its contents and make Ritsuka lose himself completely. His mother wanted a girl. He disappointed her and she reminded him of it every single day. She made sure of that. For six months, every day, the confusion just grew and grew. He wasn't normal. He liked to wear girls' clothes. He read 'girl' books instead of 'boy' books. He was too small. He looked too feminine. He never played sports or talked about the same things the other boys did. He tried and tried, tried to force himself to hang out with the other boys, but every time a pack of girls walked by, he couldn't help but think 'I'm a girl, too. Why can't I hang out with them?'

He didn't feel right here, in this body. He was ashamed and embarrassed by it, willing to do anything at all to get away from it. This meant that he usually gave up and gave in, often discarding whatever he was doing to seem normal in favor for the things he actually liked to do. He hated giving in; it meant he was admitting defeat, but what could he do? He couldn't live with all that frustration and anger, not when it was to the point where he wanted to hurt himself and was tempted to do so. Being in this body hurt so much. It hurt thinking he was the wrong sex. It confused him why he felt this way sometimes and not others. It frustrated him to no end. It angered him even more than it frustrated him. It made him completely hate himself, caused him to want to maim that ugly 'boy' in the mirror, to tear him apart until there was no more feeling left. He wanted to be numb, to have this pain stolen away from him.

That other boy in the mirror was taunting him. He'd looked back at the reflection, his fingers curling around the large wooden-handled umbrella. Go away, he warned, as if he could make the reflection disappear by simply willing it to. When it didn't, his anger intensified. He gripped the heavy object in his right hand, his fingers curling into a fist around the handle.

Without another thought, Ritsuka sent it flying, shattering yet another mirror into a million pieces.

I've actually been sitting on this story for a few months. Well, I've been sitting on this chapter for a few months. I decided to start writing it again and found this in my email. I was skeptical about uploading it, since I didn't and still don't know if people will like it since the theme is a bit controversial. If it's received well, I will continue it ASAP.

Review please?
~Wolfie