Chapter 11 : Breaking eggshell.

"Mah, Shoujo-chan, you seem a little out of it today, what's on your mind?" Toroko-san finally asks me after I almost dropped one of the dumbbells on my foot.

For the third time in a row.

In less than 10 minutes.

Feeling my cheeks flush a little, I grit my teeth, trying to get back on my task-

-only to feel, again, impressions of Pink and Purple dancing around me, the susurrus of tHe VoIcEs very pointedly suggesting things that I'd rather not focus on right now while in the gym and with my coach right next to me.

A bit -a lot- ticked off, I sit myself back on the wall bench with a huff, letting go of the dumbbells.

I lock eyes with the 50-something man built like a brick shithouse, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

I huff once again, trying my hardest to banish the heat away from my cheeks.

"It's nothing." I evade, "Someone said something to me at Kuoh, and it's just been on my mind ever since."

Well, it's less about what Koryu-Buchou said and more about the way she said it.

The corner of Toroko-san's lips quirk up, his eyes intently looking at my slightly flushed countenance.

"Some heart troubles?" he probes.

I lamely try to stutter something in answer, failing miserably and making him bark a short laugh, before shaking his head.

He makes his way next to me, before plopping himself on the bench, making it wobble a little.

Man, I don't know how much the guy weighs exactly, but I sure as hell wouldn't want to eat one of his fists if he got that much inertia when simply moving.

"It's funny, you know," he conversationally start, "You got that fire in you, some kind of dogged determination to push yourself I've rarely seen since I've opened shop, yet you can still end up like that.

"Best advice I can give is talking it through with someone, though. Letting it fester in your head isn't gonna help ya one bit.

"So, what's he look like?"

"She." I mumble in answer, before realizing what I just said, eyes widening, my head snapping in Toroko-san's direction-

-and landing on his absolutely unsurprised face, like, at all.

Uh.

"Yeah, kind of figured: you have this vibe." he not-quite points out.

Uh?!

"Not that I'm judging or anything," he carries on, raising his hands in the universal 'I give up' gesture, "But you don't really strike me as the type of girl who goes all starry-eyed at some bishounen wimp."

I snort a surprised laugh, before shaking my head.

"You really don't…" I start, a bit awkwardly.

"Nah, people should be able to like who they want," he answers, "Hell, they should be able to do what they want, as long as it doesn't hurt anybody.

"There's this one guy…" he starts, before trailing off, visibly choosing that discretion is the better part of elegance on this and abandoning the topic.

I hesitate, worrying at my lips a little, before sighing deeply.

"She kind of hit on me, I guess?" I not-quite ask, working over what has been brewing in my mind for a whole, excruciatingly long, afternoon, "And, I mean, I like what I see, but…

"But it's all so sudden, and I'm still working out a lot of things." I elaborate, one thumb coming to distractedly rub the back of my hand, "And it's an all-girl school: the gossip wheel runs at an absurd speed, from what I've seen so far. If it gets out, the stigma alone would be-"

I'm interrupted by a solid bonk on the head, making me yelp in a bit of surprise.

"You're overthinking things, Shoujo-chan." Toroko-san chides me, not unkindly, as I reflexively massage the back of my head, "The year barely started, right?"

I mutely nod back in answer at his prompting.

"Then why not start a bit slower, make friends with her, see how things go from there, at least at first?" he mildly points out.

I stare at him for a beat, before nodding slowly once again.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." I mumble, half in answer, and half to myself, "I'm just making a mountain out of a molehill, uh."

It's just, getting in trouble for a bit of ink was one thing, but something like my sexuality?

I think I'd take it even more badly, if anything else.

I mean, it's not my fault if I like girls, after all-

I blink, before exhaling slowly.

Later, when I'm alone.

And, ultimately, that's just me.

Because in the end, I'm more worried about what it could do to her reputation and future.

I can bear and grit it, even if it would probably be a massive pain in the ass for three years straight -eh- before fucking off in a less retrogra-traditionalist country, but can she?

Not like I wasn't already thinking about ways to be discreet about it, in any case, but-

Another bonk on my head wrenches me out of my spiraling thoughts, prompting another yelp out of my lips and making me glare at Toroko-san, who looks infinitely amused.

"Mah, you know, you kind of remind me of my own daughter when she talked herself into thinking that making the first move with the guy she loved was improper, somehow." he points out amusingly.

I tilt my head.

"How did that turn out, if you don't mind me asking?" I ask curiously, and because I'd like some measure of distraction off of all of this.

"Sat her down one evening after realizing that she had barely eaten anything for three months straight because of the stress, made her realize that the worst he could said was a polite 'no', and she asked him out the next day." he answers, his face positively lighting up in fondness, "Finally got the opportunity to give some brat the father of all stare-down when she introduced him to me, so that he got the message nice and proper that if he fucked it up, I was going to fuck him up."

Yeah, I really wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of his tender attention as a baseline human, methink.

At least not without a weapon of some sort.

"And they've been happily married for the last decade ever since. Got a second brat still baking in the oven as of right now."

I softly smile back at him.

"Plus, you kinda forgot the obvious here, Shoujo-chan." he points out, one finger extended in my direction.

"Which is?"

"Well, it takes two to make that kind of decision." he answers easily.

I blink, before deflating bonelessly.

How could I ever forget the most obvious aspect of a relationship, exactly?

…Let's chalk it up to the fact that I'm under a totally new hormonal balance and forget that I'm an absolute dumbass.

"Fine, you're right: I'm overcomplicating things." I admit with a last sigh, only now noticing that the chorus of tHe VoIcEs had been at a higher volume than usual this whole time, before banishing them back with renewed focus, "Gosh, I'm usually a bit smarter than this."

"Eh, feelings have this way to make you dumber than you are, it's how it is." he good-humoredly jokes back.

I snort a laugh, before shaking my head ruefully.

"Alright, I'm good." I say, before rising up.

"Glad to hear that, Shoujo-chan, now get your ass back into gear." Toroko-san not-quite glares at me from his seated position, his bulging arms crossed over his imposing chest.

I sort of sweatdrop even as I bend over to pick up the dumbbells.

Guess the respite from his 'slave-driver'-mode was short lived, uh.

After that, Friday and Saturday both came and went without any major happenings.

Rias was still social-butterflying, mixing and talking with the other girls, Akeno staying with her, although we did share yesterday's lunch the three of us together, the crimson headed devil having apparently caught on that I wasn't so hot about making friends with the others after the kind of shit they had tried to pull.

I wouldn't bother about them if they didn't bother about me, and that was the end of it, period.

I hadn't seen Koryu-Buchou either, the club, after all, only truly opening next week, and the cleaning in preparation for its reopening now done, the two of us definitely not navigating in the same social circles in the meantime.

I did catch her staring at me from the distance in the morning while surrounded by a gaggle of upper-years girls, though, to which I had answered with a smile to at least communicate that all was good, but, in a way, I was glad that the events weren't conspiring to make me rush things anymore than they had.

I, of course, hadn't been spared from my morning headaches, and had risen bright and early this morning, had plenty of time to go for a longer gym session than usual in the early afternoon, after completing my schoolwork for the week in my PJs while sipping some tea, and spent the rest of the afternoon and the beginning of the evening in the Basement, practicing with Warp-lightning.

Which may or may not have included me cackling and raspily screaming something about 'unlimited power!' at some point.

But that was it.

I was officially out of things to do, kind of burned out mentally after delving into my connection with the Immaterium for hours, sore all over after a whole week spent doing all the sport I've never done in my previous life and-

-I was running out of excuses to pile on to avoid addressing the wooly mammoth in the room.

Oh, I did certainly try -avoidance tactics, after all, having been my go-to tactic when faced with uncomfortable issues for a long, long time- but, alas, I was alone in my bedroom, naked in the sheets, and with nothing better to do than to think back about all of what had happened during the last seven days since sleep was for some reasons eluding me.

Well, there was still one last thing to do, one which I didn't find the opportunity to try the previous nights, either too anxious or just plainly too tired, but, after having spent the last two days regularly thinking about a certain v hot senpai, and intimately aware of the feeling of my bedsheets on my skin, particularly on my nipples, the mix of dread and curiosity that had left me not-quite paralyzed at the idea had now firmly stepped back in favor of anticipation and eagerness to try.

"Fuck it." I swear, before biting at my lower lips-

-one of my hands leaving my clutch on my pillow, to slowly ghost along my sides, making me slightly shiver.

My eyes go shut by themselves as some of my tension leaves me, my fingers trailing along smooth skin -my skin-, the feather, intimate, touch coaxing the simmering embers of the passion I had tried very hard to quell the last two days.

I don't even have to force myself to trick my brain into making it think it's not my hand, that it's hers, whose slowly stroking my sides-

-and I clutch my thighs a bit tighter together while laying on my side, as the embers in my lower belly turns into the beginning of a proper flame-

-my other, free hand, slowly, gently, rises toward my chest.

My breath itches as I palm one of my breast, the right one, losing my grips over tHe VoIcEs-

-only to feel them wash over me, in a multi-hued rainbow of Pink and Purple, the headache somehow kept at bay, to my delight.

My lips curl up and I giggle happily, my left hand still slowly stroking every inch of me, lovingly, as they discover how to play this marvelous, wondrous instrument that is my body-

-and I moan a little as I tentatively squeeze my breast, not too hard, yet firmly, feeling my already erect nipple poking at my palm, the act making me aware of how the sheets are now rubbing with every of my slow moves against the other-

-and it feels good, but I want more, and, before I can even think of it, my left hand is already gliding downward, giving my thigh a little, appreciative squeeze as it nears by-

-I unclench my legs, a little squelchy sound, as well as the heat inside of me peaking, making me aware that I'm wet-

-and my breath itches once more as exploring finger passes atop my mound, rubbing at something with the motion, little sparks of pleasure radiating from it across my nerves-

-and it feels good, it feels right, and I palm myself down there fully, a little bit of slickness coating my hand and my lower lips-

-I moan, once again, as my middle finger hesitantly probes at my entrance, the others gently caressing my outer lips, my grip on my breast tightening a little-

-and I'm through, with a little gasp, no further than a single digit, still tricking myself into thinking it's her who's doing all of this to me, even if the feeling of my own walls clenching at my own finger gets a little overwhelming-

-and I lose myself, coaxing the fire inside me into a proper bonfire, as one digit, soon enough two, comes and goes, comes and goes, comes and goes, comes and goes, comes and-

-I moan, more vocally than before, as I poke at something, what I instinctively knows to be a really, really fun spot, subconsciously correcting my posture for ease of reach-

-come and goes, come and goes, comes and goes-

[Her finger, her hands, her lips on my neck, her husky voice-]

-come and goes, come and goes, come-

"MMMmmmhhhh~" I moan again, as I reach the peak, after how many minutes, feeling myself clenching around myself, my slit dripping and my hand drenched, my right hand squeezing my breast almost painfully, tHe WhIsPeRs now yelling in the Immaterium about something Pink/Purple-

-electricity running along my veins, my whole body, it comes, and it stays, and it never felt so right-

-toe-curled, slightly overwhelmed, I try to pull out my finger/her finger, but I'm still clenched around it, still too high, and I inadvertently give myself a long, slow stroke on the fun spot-

"AAaaaahhhh~"

-and my nerves alight once more, my hips bucking, another, heartfelt moan leaving my lips, my thighs closing together, trapping my hand down there as my other finally stop molesting my breast-

-and I stay here, panting for a long while, as I ride the wave of this hazy, fluffy feeling, almost reflexively settling back into my meditative breathing.

However long after it takes me back to be a proper, functional human being, albeit one firmly in post-orgasmic bliss, I finally manages unclench my thighs long enough to free my left hand, settling myself back into a proper sleeping position-

-only for my nose to wrinkle as I realize that I'm still coated with some of my fluids, making me grumble and forcing me back up to go to the bathroom to tidy myself up.

A short trip to wipe myself up later, I'm back in my sheets, eyes locked on the ceiling, in a mirror of what happened a week ago.

I had just played with myself, and I had liked it.

Massively.

I had theories about what had happened, about why I wasn't a dysfunctional mess after being resleeved into a body of the opposite gender.

Mind manipulation, magic, those sort of things.

After a week? Well, it wasn't looking like that anymore.

I wasn't only merely functional: I was, in fact, all around feeling better, motivated and determined for once to do something with my life.

Yes, I was in a trap world with an out-of-context -or is it?- power, but that wasn't what was making me giggle at the drop of a hat-

Because I never did before, only wearing humor like armor.

-or like what I see when looking in a mirror-

It hadn't happened in more than a decade, only a deep sense of apathy, when I bothered feeling something.

-or even have a crush on my hot senpai-

I had given up on relationships entirely a long time ago.

-or making new, female friends, finally feeling like it wasn't fake-

I had started feeling like I was lying to them, in a way.

-and yes, I would be missing my family-

But I never had the guts to admit that something never felt right to them.

-and my friends-

But I'd like to think that they'd be happy for me, in the end.

-but I was, for the first time in a long, long time, happy.

Reflexively, still staring at the ceiling, I wipe the tears that have started to pearl at the corner of my eyes.

"By his rotten bones six feet under, Prima," I drily chuckle, a bit choked by an equal mix of sadness and happiness, "You're probably the densest transbian in two different universes to ever hatch."

That night, I slept the best sleep I ever had, a life worth of weight off my shoulders, and a new one in front of me.

[AN: A few years back, I got into the yuri genre because it was calling to something inside of me.

Soon after, I went and discovered the clusterfuck that was the genderbent genre, and fell even more in love with it, since it's often pretty close with the former, albeit with a more humorous, comedic undertone.

For months, I went and lurked, read and watched tons of shows, anime, manga and novels about the topic.

Then, one day, I stumbled upon QuietValerie's Trouble With Horns on SH, and I took the biggest gut punch in my life.

This changed how I view life, and a lot of things, quite dramatically.

But, more importantly, it also changed how I saw my favorite genre forever.

I like genderbending tropes, I really do, but since I somehow stumbled my way into quality TB fics, well, I can only write my stories while keeping it in mind as a subtext.

That's the main reason why my MCs always end up being fine with their newfound lot in life, because they were deeply depressed closeted eggs who all got the solution to why their lives was so shitty magically handed to them.

Now, that's literally all there is to it, I'm not going to go all political or shit, because, frankly, it bores me to hell and back, and I'm writing because I dream about cute girls doing kick ass things and having wholesome, hot, gay relationships, not to defend a message or anything like this.

You may have noted that my other fics systematically did away with this realization, but I did write on my plot bunny thread that I was doing the whole shebang this time for once, and to answer the maybe unasked question: are you MCs trans?

Yes, they are. And they're happy the way they are.

Hope you enjoy, xoxo

PS: How many folks did I actually successfully gaslit into liking Prima before the reveal? I do wonder :3]