As promised, a recap of the last Genesis chapter.

Genesis goes through conversion therapy under the guidance of Mrs. Rivers. Most of it consists of trying to do stereotypically feminine things while being punished for her failures. A starmie detects whenever she thinks about Lyra or Cuicatl and hurts her when she does. Mrs. Rivers is also going through Gen's old books and making heavily edited plot summaries that reflect 'proper morals.' Genesis eventually complains about a pair of heels that are too tight on her. In retaliation Mrs. Rivers locks her in her room for an extended period with no additional food or water. Mrs. Rivers also claims that she is a 'former' lesbian.

There will also be a plot summary for this chapter at the start of the next Genesis one. Heavy CNs for abuse and (internalized) homophobia.

4.10: Birthday Party
Genesis

You take a moment to reflect as you finish applying your foundation.

The new heels are more comfortable once you've broken them in. No more blisters or sore spots. And you've gotten better with not thinking about them and remembering to call everyone 'sir and 'ma'am.' You barely even feel anything when you have to scream at the pictures of the temptresses anymore. Still a small pang of regret. They aren't here, though. It's fine since you're not actually hurting them.

You hope you don't actually have to hurt them.

You're still not entirely sure if Cuicatl was actually trying to tempt you or not. There were moments, like how she insisted early on that she could stay in the tent while you changed. Most of it seemed pretty innocent. Just her being herself.

Green light shines in the corner of your eye.

Shit.

The shock never feels less painful, no matter how many times it happens. Is it getting stronger or is there no such thing as mental pain tolerance? At least you managed to drop your lipstick before it smeared.

Mrs. Rivers looks up from her book and faces you. "What was it now?"

You consider lying. It might be the kind of question you can't ask. But you can't lie to starmie.

"How could I be sure if a girl was trying to tempt me or not?"

Mrs. Rivers frowns. "And this is about the pagan?"

"Yeah."

She closes the book. "They're all dykes over there. Should've just taken over and converted the savages when we had the chance."

That doesn't explain how to tell for other girls. It also doesn't seem like she's taking questions.

Once you've finished your makeup you turn around and Mrs. Rivers evaluates you. "It's fine," she says. "I've finished your books. I'll get you your last rewrite this afternoon. Then we can finish them off this evening."

You aren't sure what you're finishing off. It's not usually a good idea to ask questions. You'll find out in the evening, then.

An unfamiliar man accompanies you down the halls. He's tall and muscular. The kind of man you should be attracted to, even if he is a bit older than you. Instead, you find yourself more intimidated than anything. He isn't carrying a gun like some of Father's guards do. The pokéballs on his belt could contain creatures far stronger than a firearm. He's here for your protection. You should feel safe. Or attracted. You don't. Something foolish in you is screaming to stay out of his reach.

The man opens the door to your pokémon's room and steps to the side. You dart through and mentally kick yourself. Should have stayed composed. Father is standing in the middle of the room. You stop and curtsy like you're supposed to. He just stares blankly for a moment. He never seems used to you doing that, but Mrs. Rivers says that proper respect for authority is a necessary step in becoming straight.

"Er, right. Good to see you, too." He gestures towards the inflatable pool that Sir—that Bubbles has been living in. "We moved your pokémon out to the gardens. Just brought them back for a few hours. Big milestone tonight."

It's good that Ferny and Bubbles are getting access to real sunlight and water. At least they're happy, even if you can't cuddle them as often as you want. The milestone, though? Is that what Mrs. Rivers was talking about? Being done with the books? Asking would be speaking out of turn, which is disrespectful of authority, so you don't.

Ferny stirs and looks vacantly in your direction. His coat seems greener and healthier. He'd been curled up for a nap before you or Father woke him up. Still doesn't seem fully awake. Bubbles is in the kiddy pool he'd been in during the darkness. Father starts walking towards the pool and gestures for you to follow.

Bubbles pokes up his head as you approach. Unlike Ferny he doesn't seem to be looking too good. He's pale and almost green. Wait. He is greener. And there's a short coil of hair on top of his head. Bubbles is evolving! Again! How long have you been home? You came back in December. After that there weren't really days or nights and sometimes you didn't deal with people for long stretches of time. It could still be January. It could be May or June. It hasn't been raining as much lately. March or April? That would mean…

That would mean that you missed your birthday. You're maybe sixteen now and didn't even know. Are birthday parties sinful? Why couldn't they have told you?

Your father is looking at you with something like pride. Even though you aren't the one evolving. You hate to ask something that isn't about Bubbles, because he's having a big moment, but you feel like you need to.

"Am I sixteen?" you ask.

He looks at you with his mouth spread thin in… worry? Surprise? He must not have realized you didn't know. Not like you see each other personally very much anymore. "Yes? Your brother's birthday is coming up, actually. There's some talk that you might be able to attend."

Levi was born on April 7th. You have been at home for three months. That feels far too long and not nearly long enough at the same time. Something scrapes against your leg. You look down to see Ferny rubbing his face against it before looking up. He mews softly. Aww. Did he know you were feeling bad? You kneel down and rub the side of his face. He purrs enthusiastically before twisting his head and rubbing the top of it against your outstretched hand. He smells like grass after a rainstorm. You wish you had more time with him. There was just over a month between getting him in North Shores and having to leave him behind.

"Perhaps I should give you a litleo from Red's next litter," Father muses. "Your leafeon certainly likes you well enough. Maybe you'd be up for a real pokémon."

Real? Ferny is very real. Would it be disrespectful to ask? Probably.

You don't.

The man whose name you don't know and Mrs. Rivers escort you out of the building. The sun has already set and there's the aura of twilight over everything. The world seems smoother and colder, but not terribly so. There's also a feeling, almost a scent, in the air. It's one of your favorite times of the day.

This is your first time outside in over three months. You got a tan during the journey but it's all been lost and then some. You don't remember ever being so pale. Perhaps it's good that they didn't take you out into direct sunlight. That would have resulted in a terrible sunburn.

The adults take you down a path to the edge of the gardens. There's a firepit there with benches around it and a bar nearby for keeping drinks cold and ready. Your parents host guests there a lot. Is this a bonfire ceremony? One of your school friends, well, someone else's friend, really, told you about one they had at the end of summer camp. It was a secular camp. You couldn't attend.

Good thing you didn't go: it could have made you gay or something.

When you get to the pit you see that there is stuff in the firepit. Familiar stuff. Your books. An old rocking horse. Your sword you bought from a fair on the early warriors of Xerneas and then left unused because it was too heavy to lift. A few action hero toys you stopped playing with years ago. A stack of fashion magazines. (Isn't fashion feminine? You look at a cover for a little too long and then whip your head away in shame. Oh. That's why.) Two big pictures of people who don't have names or faces anymore. There's a strange chemical smell in the air. Probably something to help it all burn. Mother and Father are present. Both are formally dressed. So are you. This wasn't pitched as a 'dress nice for the ceremony thing' as much as 'girls should always dress properly when out and about.' Girls who don't are sluts or vulgarians. (You still don't entirely know what 'vulgarian' means. Something like 'poor' and 'rude' but nicer?)

The pit holds your childhood, ready to be burned.

The man steps forward and pulls a lit torch off its holder. There's an awful chemical smell coming from it and you do your best to hold it away from you.

"I think you know what you need to do," Mrs. Rivers says. "Show us your progress."

You hesitate. How does burning any of this help make you straight? The sword won't even melt unless the fire is nearly 3,000 degrees. And the plastic. "There's plastic in there." You can use that. Maybe burning chemicals makes people gay? Is that where all of the gay people came from in the last century? Saying it would make it sound like you know better. You aren't supposed to act like you do. That's how you ended up here in the first place.

Father reaches to his belt and pulls out a dark pokéball. Ultra? Luxury? Heavy? You wouldn't have known the difference at all a year ago. A big cloud of red forms beside you and solidifies into a pitch black bird almost twice as tall as you are. It looks down at you with its big red eyes and you gulp. Father's courier. You've been quietly fascinated by it for years since it seemed like something right out of your stories—the stories on the pile—but were always a little too scared to get close. Now it's just beside you. Even in the twilight you can see how sharp its feathers are.

"Ebony can send the fumes away," Father says. "Don't worry about it. You'll do fine."

You swallow down the fear and try to focus on the encouragement. You shouldn't hesitate. You should do this. There's no reason not to do this. Everything will be for the best if you do this. You can be straight if you do this. Your arm is still locked up and your mind won't tell it to throw the torch.

"Genesis," Mrs. Rivers says, "this is reflecting very poorly on your performance. I'm not sure I can allow you to go near your brother if you might infect him. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

No. No you wouldn't want to infect him. Your arm moves and the torch flies through the air before you've fully worked out what's happening. A fireball explodes from the pile as soon as it touches. You stand transfixed as the fire races up and away from the pit. It's only Ebony stepping forward and extending a wing that keeps you from getting burned.

Ebony takes a step back and its wing presses you along. The underside is surprisingly soft and gentle for having feathers that look like knives. Once you're away from the fire it drops its wing and lets you see the others. Illuminated by flickering flames and dying light your father looks terrifying. "What birdshit was that?" Father asks. "By The Garden, are you trying to kill me?"

"Sorry, sir," the strange man says. "We just wanted to make sure the metal and plastic would burn."

"Yeah, well, leave me out of it next time." He pauses and furrows his brow. "No, not next time. You're fired." He pulls out another ball and Red appears beside him. The pyroar briefly seems delighted by the flames before seeing you. She walks straight over the firepit and nuzzles you. Then she licks your face. You can't help but giggle. Even if it's not proper. Everything about this is kind of funny, right? It has to be. Because you're not going to think about the parts that aren't funny. "Alright, Red, that's enough. Escort this man off the premises. Light his ass up if he dawdles."

Father powerwalks away from the pit immediately after. Mother follows, trying to dart after him but moving awkwardly in her stilettos. That leaves just you, Mrs. Rivers, and the giant bird.

She sighs. "Well, you're not a terrible failure. I might be able to make you a bi-sexual in the end. Or at least get you to take a vow of celibacy. But I don't think you can be fully reformed without telepathic reorientation."

The words hit you hard. You failed. You're a failure. A sinner.

"Will I go to the cocoon?" you ask in little more than a whisper.

"I don't know." Your eyes drift back to the fire. The action figures are dripping liquid plastic down as Ebony lazily bats the fumes away from your side of the pit. The books are already burnt to charred black covers. One that fell and opened up shows its flaky, ashy pages. The rocking horse is still on fire. Everything else seems to have already burned out. "I suppose I should get you back inside. Try to make the most of this."

She walks away. After another moment of staring into the pit you pivot around. A good pivot. One fluid motion. Like…

There's a deep sense of loss in your heart as you follow Mrs. Rivers.

The door swings open and Mother walks in. She gives you the briefest of nods before walking straight into your closet and rummaging through your clothes. "It's your brother's birthday," she says. "He wanted to speak with you and your sister."

Your heart flutters. He still wants to talk to you? And you're being allowed to? It's been eight days since the fire. Mrs. Rivers hasn't returned. Barely anyone has spoken to you at all beyond giving you food and taking it away. It's just been you, your pokémon, and the accursed starmie.

Mother pulls out a modest yellow dress that flows down to your ankles. "Wear this and your red boots. Do your makeup like Mrs. Rivers instructed you to. I'll be back in an hour."

She hangs the dress off a rack and storms back out. Huh. You didn't feel too weird about her being in your space. Did all the time with Mrs. Rivers help you work through that?

Ollie waddles closer and tries to wrap his arms around you. Aww. You pick the psyduck up and hug him close. You'd been really worried about him at first, but now he's gotten to be a regular cuddlebug. Sometimes he even presses himself into the crook of your legs while you sleep. Cloudy also drifts closer but doesn't make contact. Good. That would be unladylike.

There's actual enthusiasm as you get dressed and apply your makeup. You haven't been this excited in… months? Since December, probably. Would've been right before your second trial. Cloudy and the crabrawler you used for a little bit carried that one. Ferny helped out a lot, too, since he barely even noticed the togedemaru's attacks.

When you finish you sit down at the edge of your bed and pick Ollie back up. He's soft and warm and good for cuddling when you're nervous. Good nervous, for once. Cloudy eventually moves back to the window to bask in the sunlight. You wish you could unlock it for him. No one's ever told you why the window is locked, just that it is.

Your mother walks in wearing a nice blue dress and black jacket. She narrows her eyes upon seeing you. "Why are you holding that thing? You'll get hair on your clothes."

"He doesn't shed much." He really doesn't. Even his bed never has much fur in it.

"Put. Him. Down," Mother commands. Once he's out of the way she looks hard at your dress before brushing a few hairs off. "All that training and you're still… like this," she hisses. The starmie follows her as she storms back off. You belatedly follow, unsure if you're still invited. She doesn't complain about it.

Levi is set at the dining table next to your father. He beams when he sees you before rapidly standing and pushing the chair back. He doesn't put it back in place like is proper. Instead he rushes over to you and wraps you in a hug. His head comes up to your eye now. Last time you saw him he wasn't quite up to your nose. He's going to be a lot taller than you are when he's done growing and you're already pretty tall for a girl.

"I'm glad you're here," he says. More quietly, he adds, "I had to fight with our parents for ages before they agreed."

You take a step back and give him your own smile. It comes so much easier now than it ever did when Mrs. Rivers was trying to get you to smile properly, like a real girl would. "I'm happy to see you, too."

Someone coughs at the corner of the room. You turn to see a screen with your sister's face on it. She's wearing a decent t-shirt, but still a t-shirt. Hardly as formal as your dress or your brother's adorable little suit. "So they let you out, huh?"

"Yes." You don't give her anything more to go on. Levi is pure. You won't corrupt him. Between you, a lesbian, and your sister, an attempted murderer, there's no telling how much you could corrupt each other.

Levi walks back to his seat. You follow and sit beside him. Both of you are facing towards your sister.

"The three of us can talk for twenty minutes with no one stopping us," Levi announces. "That was the only thing I wanted for my birthday."

You glance at your parents. Neither of them seem very happy about that. You can imagine why. They made one good child and he wants to associate with people like Exodus. Like you.

"Yup. Guess I'll start, then," your sister's image turns to bore into you. "Why are you still here? You're sixteen and you've shown you can live on your own. Why not, just, emancipate yourself and go?"

She's already tempting you. How predictable. "Unlike you, I want to confront my sin." You hate having to put yourself on her level of sinfulness. You hate how far you fell without even noticing.

"Yeah, um, about that. What did you even do? No one's been able to tell me that."

You pause. You don't want to answer that. Not in front of your brother. "I… I looked impurely at others." Vague enough. And you've heard Mrs. Rivers use that wording.

Exodus just rolls her eyes. "Sure. What did you do though? Who did you hurt?"

"Xerneas."

Your sister looks disappointed, but not surprised. At least you feel the same way about each other.

"And why would He care? He made you that way, didn't He?"

"Exodus Rosemary Gage," Mother says. "I will not have you blaspheming in front of my son."

She laughs. Openly laughs at your mother. "Listen, for twenty minutes I can do whatever I want. Rules are rules, right?"

"We agreed on a twenty-minute birthday conversation," Father says. "Exchanging well wishes and the like. We did not agree to allow a sermon on debauchery to be broadcast into our home."

"Let her speak," Levi says. "Please."

Mother glares at him so intensely that you wilt just from being in sight. Levi stays firm. In the end Father sighs and relents. "Fine. As you will."

"I mean, that's natural, right? Who you are without learning anything? And Xerneas made the natural you?"

"Lots of things are natural that we shouldn't do," you say as calmly as you can. "Like murder."

She rolls her eyes. Rolls her eyes! "Fine. Let's backtrack. Have the nice conversation our perfect parents would like. How are you these days?"

"Fine," you say on reflex. Even if it's a lie and you aren't supposed to lie. You've cried more in three months than everything else you can remember and everything just feels… less. Except the shame and guilt. That's more.

Levi reaches over and grabs your arm before squeezing it reassuringly. He's holding it just a little too low for the grip Cuicatl would use when you guided—

The starmie glows green and you get kicked in the mind.

"What was that?" Levi asks angrily. When you recover you see him standing up and leaning on the table. Bad manners.

"I thought of someone I shouldn't," you stammer out. "My fault."

"Holy shit they aren't even letting you have your own thoughts?" Exodus asks. "I thought I had it bad, but—"

"That's like hitting her," Levi says. "You can't do that!"

"Settle down," father half-shouts. Not full shouting like he's out of control. Still loud enough to echo. All three of you instantly shut up. You know what that voice means. Father turns to look at Levi. He's… disappointed. Really disappointed. You aren't great at faces but even you can tell that. "I assure you that corporal punishment is legal under Alolan law. Please think before saying things that could damage the family's reputation. The family and business will someday be yours to command. You don't need to hurt your standing before the time comes."

"It's needed," you add before Levi can say things he shouldn't. "To help."

Levi throws up his hands and walks away from the table. "Holy roots, no one cares! It's 2020. People are gay."

Mother stands as well. "And who told you this?"

"Everyone at school. They're all worried about Gen when I bring it up. Think we're cruel weirdos for what you're doing."

Father seems to puff up bigger like an angry vulpix. "Perhaps you should be in explicitly religious education as well. And give me names, please. I sense a lot of donations and contracts are about to be cut off."

Levi takes a deep breath and turns to you. There are the beginnings of tears in his eyes. Why? What did you do? "I love you, okay. Stop letting them hurt you."

Something in you breaks. You can't give him what he wants. It… it would be wrong.

Father finally stands and grabs your shoulder. "That's enough. I'm not putting her through any more of this." He tugs you away and your feet struggle to find their footing and follow. Once you're out of the room he relaxes his grip a little and slows down the pace. His breathing is still heavy and fast. Levi really got to him.

Why is he defying your parents anyway? So that you can be a lesbian? He isn't… he isn't helping anyone. You're broken and need to be fixed. Can't he see it? Why is he hurt for you?

Doesn't he know you'd do anything to get him to stop hurting? And he's asking you to sin…

Father eventually stops once you're inside of his office. He slams the door shut behind you and walks over to his chair. You sit down across from him. He takes several angry breaths before he collapses back into the chair like a puppet with its strings cut. One hand rises up to cover his eyes.

"I'm trying," he says. "To do the right thing. Rivers was supposed to be an expert but she just had you cavorting around like a 50s housewife. And now that my son is at stake…" He lowers his hand and looks you in the eyes. Now he seems less upset and more… sad? Defeated? "I've read everything I can and there's only one thing that seems to work.

You lean forward. Something that works? Something that can fix you? End all of this so your brother can be happy?

"I've hired a psychic. He'll be here in two weeks to fix you for good." He adds, so quietly that you'd swear you were making it up if his lips weren't moving, "May Xerneas forgive me."