A cold wind swept through the air on this late April night as Jiro stood outside the manor of the Cyra family. In the Lower World, it was a huge, imposing structure- the central building three stories high, with extensive basements and dungeons beneath, with several other buildings for family members of less importance, Servants, and storage nearby, as well as beautiful gardens and a garage. In the Upper World, however, their holdings were smaller and far less opulent- or at least on the surface. Jiro had never been there, nor did he have any desire to see them, but he suspected that beneath the earth there was far more.
It was there Jiro had died, just a few hours ago. At the stroke of midnight, when the moon was her highest in the sky, the Cyra family matriarch and leader, Edelmira Cyra, had slit Jiro’s throat with a dagger. Jiro had quickly died as the blood drained from him, collected in large bowls and basins for later use. Jiro hovered above his body, only watching, as he saw it being carried off by two Servants into the body freezer for later usage.
It had been shortly after them that Jiro had seen those two huge gates, one pure white, one pitch black… gates that Jiro had understood would lead him into the afterlife, or at least a next life. Jiro could finally have peace.
But Jiro didn’t want peace. He wanted revenge. And that was why he was now hovering outside the manor, thinking of where to go.
Home, he supposed- a place hardly remembered. Honestly, the cell he had at his mansion was more of a home than that had been. He had spent most of his life between those walls, could picture those stone walls perfectly. But he certainly wouldn’t get his revenge there.
So Jiro concentrated, found the direction in his heart, and floated towards home.
It was there Jiro had died, just a few hours ago. At the stroke of midnight, when the moon was her highest in the sky, the Cyra family matriarch and leader, Edelmira Cyra, had slit Jiro’s throat with a dagger. Jiro had quickly died as the blood drained from him, collected in large bowls and basins for later use. Jiro hovered above his body, only watching, as he saw it being carried off by two Servants into the body freezer for later usage.
It had been shortly after them that Jiro had seen those two huge gates, one pure white, one pitch black… gates that Jiro had understood would lead him into the afterlife, or at least a next life. Jiro could finally have peace.
But Jiro didn’t want peace. He wanted revenge. And that was why he was now hovering outside the manor, thinking of where to go.
Home, he supposed- a place hardly remembered. Honestly, the cell he had at his mansion was more of a home than that had been. He had spent most of his life between those walls, could picture those stone walls perfectly. But he certainly wouldn’t get his revenge there.
So Jiro concentrated, found the direction in his heart, and floated towards home.
Fedor looked out of the window as his father argued with a cashier about their order. After a few more moments, Helorie sat down across from his son, handing him a hamburger and small coke. “They gave me two small cokes and one large fry rather than two large cokes and two small fries, and refused to correct their error. Do you want to go somewhere else, or have me order-”
“It’s okay, dad. It really is.” said Fedor. “I…. I just appreciate spending time with you.”
“I appreciate spending time with you as well, son.” said Helorie. “Getting to know you better. But do you want a larger coke?”
“We have coke at home, dad.” said Fedor.
“Yes, I suppose.”
The father and son ate their food, both kind of awkwardly wondering what to talk about. It was the first time the two of them were having a simple father-son outing after Helorie had finally accepted that Fedor was a separate person from the others who shared his body, a member of a multiple system. One of the first conversations they’d had that wasn’t a screaming match. Fedor wondered what the hell he was supposed to talk to his father about? That this hamburger was actually kind of gross? That the coke was really watery? What were these fries, fried pieces of cardboard? That there was a pale boy staring at him outside of the window and that it was kind of creepy?
Who was that kid? He looked around Fedor’s age, but Fedor had never seen him around town or at school or anything. Louis Creek wasn’t the sort of town where everyone knew everyone, but Fedor felt like he would recognize this kid. He was so pale, whiter than white bread, and had light gold hair nearly reaching his waist. It was unkempt, in desperate need of brushing, And what teenager wore long, flowing white robes?
“Who are you looking at?” asked Helorie.
“Th-” Fedor was going to point out the teen to his father, but he stepped through the wall and to Fedor’s side, putting a finger to his lips. What the-? Was this kid some sort of mage? Why didn’t his dad see him, too? Was he a Servant or... a ghost? Finally, Fedor said, “Nothing. Just some birds.”
“Do you like birds, Fedor?” asked Helorie, suddenly interested.
“They’re okay. I think sometimes to be a member of our family you have to like birds, at least a little.” Fedor laughed slightly, and Helorie looked nervous.
“I don’t really like birds that much. I mean, they’re fine, I suppose.”
“I mean, it’s not mandatory, dad.” said Fedor. “I think my favorite bird would be a crow or a raven.”
“That’s a good choice.” said Helorie. “What were the birds dong?”
“What birds?” asked Fedor.
“The birds you were looking at?”
Fedor froze for a moment. “Oh. Um. Just birding about.”
“Aren’t they always?” said Helorie.
There was an awkward silence, and then Helorie continued eating his hamburger.
Fedor looked to the boy, who was still standing there, looking at Fedor with a sad look on his face. Maybe he should have told his dad about him? He was a mage, he would know who this kid was. But if he was such a great mage, why didn’t he see him too?
The boy suddenly brushed a hand against Fedor, touching his shoulder. /You can see me? My name is Jiro, and I need your help. Please don’t say anything, not now! Your father is a mage and he may try to exorcise or banish me./
Fedor tried to nod subtly while eating hamburger. Exorcise or banish… so he was probably a ghost or some sort of spirit. Maybe a demon, but he showed no demonic traits. But being a ghost would explain why he was so pale and dressed in all white.
Needing his help… well, Fedor wasn’t particularly a generous and loving person, but for a cute boy… well, that might make things different.
“It’s okay, dad. It really is.” said Fedor. “I…. I just appreciate spending time with you.”
“I appreciate spending time with you as well, son.” said Helorie. “Getting to know you better. But do you want a larger coke?”
“We have coke at home, dad.” said Fedor.
“Yes, I suppose.”
The father and son ate their food, both kind of awkwardly wondering what to talk about. It was the first time the two of them were having a simple father-son outing after Helorie had finally accepted that Fedor was a separate person from the others who shared his body, a member of a multiple system. One of the first conversations they’d had that wasn’t a screaming match. Fedor wondered what the hell he was supposed to talk to his father about? That this hamburger was actually kind of gross? That the coke was really watery? What were these fries, fried pieces of cardboard? That there was a pale boy staring at him outside of the window and that it was kind of creepy?
Who was that kid? He looked around Fedor’s age, but Fedor had never seen him around town or at school or anything. Louis Creek wasn’t the sort of town where everyone knew everyone, but Fedor felt like he would recognize this kid. He was so pale, whiter than white bread, and had light gold hair nearly reaching his waist. It was unkempt, in desperate need of brushing, And what teenager wore long, flowing white robes?
“Who are you looking at?” asked Helorie.
“Th-” Fedor was going to point out the teen to his father, but he stepped through the wall and to Fedor’s side, putting a finger to his lips. What the-? Was this kid some sort of mage? Why didn’t his dad see him, too? Was he a Servant or... a ghost? Finally, Fedor said, “Nothing. Just some birds.”
“Do you like birds, Fedor?” asked Helorie, suddenly interested.
“They’re okay. I think sometimes to be a member of our family you have to like birds, at least a little.” Fedor laughed slightly, and Helorie looked nervous.
“I don’t really like birds that much. I mean, they’re fine, I suppose.”
“I mean, it’s not mandatory, dad.” said Fedor. “I think my favorite bird would be a crow or a raven.”
“That’s a good choice.” said Helorie. “What were the birds dong?”
“What birds?” asked Fedor.
“The birds you were looking at?”
Fedor froze for a moment. “Oh. Um. Just birding about.”
“Aren’t they always?” said Helorie.
There was an awkward silence, and then Helorie continued eating his hamburger.
Fedor looked to the boy, who was still standing there, looking at Fedor with a sad look on his face. Maybe he should have told his dad about him? He was a mage, he would know who this kid was. But if he was such a great mage, why didn’t he see him too?
The boy suddenly brushed a hand against Fedor, touching his shoulder. /You can see me? My name is Jiro, and I need your help. Please don’t say anything, not now! Your father is a mage and he may try to exorcise or banish me./
Fedor tried to nod subtly while eating hamburger. Exorcise or banish… so he was probably a ghost or some sort of spirit. Maybe a demon, but he showed no demonic traits. But being a ghost would explain why he was so pale and dressed in all white.
Needing his help… well, Fedor wasn’t particularly a generous and loving person, but for a cute boy… well, that might make things different.
“Well, I think that went really well!” said Mateus, loading the chessboards in the back of the minivan. “Don’t you think that went really well, dear?”
Elato shrugged. “Well, they weren’t fucking stunning at chess, but nobody started throwing pieces at each other, making a giant stack of rooks, or reenacting Romeo and Juliet with the pawns like last time, so I’ll call it a success.”
“They’re just kids, dad.” said Cadis, Mateus and Elato’s 15-year old son. ‘When I was their age I could barely remember which way the horsie went.”
Elato stretched out his arms before accepting a box of chess books from Cadis and putting it next to the chessboards. “Yeah, you’re right, son. We shouldn’t expect much! They’re still just learning. And it’s called a knight, not a horsie.”
“I know, dad!’ protested Cadis, and Elato rustled his son’s hair with a smirk before closing the trunk and hopping into the front passenger seat of the car. Cadis went to his seat in the middle, and Mateus went to drive. With the children’s chess event over, it was now time to go home.
They slowly went down the main street of Louis Creek, Elato occasionally reaching over to attempt to honk the horn at other drivers, Mateus covering the wheel so his husband couldn’t do so. Cadis leaned back and got out his phone, intending to text his best friend Sevvie, when suddenly he nearly jumped back in his seat, screaming.
There was a teenage boy! Floating in front of him! His neck was split wide open, and he was covered in blood from the neck down, staining his pure white robes and part of his long blonde hair. His eyes were sad but unshocked, he didn’t seem alarmed by the fluid that covered him. Mateus nearly slammed the brakes.
“SON!?”
Mateus looked, panicked, at the rear view mirror as Elato twisted around. “Th- there, I sa-saw a boy, right in front of me, my age, he-”
/PLEASE! STOP!/ Cadis froze in alarm as the boy touched his forehead, and as he did somehow somehow put thoughts in his head. /Please, my name is Jiro and I need your help, but it is vitally important that your fathers don’t know about me! Don’t tell them anything more!/
Cadis had paused, and Elato, looking to Mateus, smiled widely, panic vanishing. “Cade, you probably just saw a ghost. It’s a great sign. It means that you’re a mage like your dad and I and we can finally start telling you about magic and our secret wizard histories.”
Cadis literally didn’t know if his father was telling the truth or making one of his weird jokes again. Then he realized that he was talking about magic being real, it had to be a joke. Then he realized he had literally just seen a ghost! A ghost who was now sitting next to him in the seat next to him, resting a hand on his hand. “A-are you serious?”
“As serious as the sun is bright, Cadis.” said Elato. “Mateus, confirm that I’m not lying.”
“Your father isn’t lying.” said Mateus. “Cadis, keep describing this ghost. Elato, try and look at him too.”
/Please. Tell them you saw nothing./
“I- I made it up.” said Cadis. He somehow saw his father’s eyes change, look like they were made of pure, brilliant emerald, but as he looked around Cadis his eyes did not rest upon Jiro. “Just like how you guys are making up this wizard thing.”
“The wizard thing is totally real, Cadis.” said Elato. “I’ll prove it to you when you get home. But… shit, I guess you’re right about making up the ghost. Why would you do that? Why would you make up a ghost?”
Cadis looked away. “I thought it would be funny.”
“Ghosts are no laughing matter, Cade.” said Elato. “Most of them need to be exoricized or banished for their own good. They get weird after so many years being dead. They’re dangerous.”
Cadis looked at Jiro, who shook his head ‘no’ and frowned apologetically. “But they must be so afraid, if they’re dead. Nobody knows what happens after you die.”
“Actually, most people are reincarnated.” said Mateus. “It’s a proven fact.”
Cadis grasped his head to deal with the revelations. He almost wished his fathers had stayed for the after-chess toddler snacktime.
Elato shrugged. “Well, they weren’t fucking stunning at chess, but nobody started throwing pieces at each other, making a giant stack of rooks, or reenacting Romeo and Juliet with the pawns like last time, so I’ll call it a success.”
“They’re just kids, dad.” said Cadis, Mateus and Elato’s 15-year old son. ‘When I was their age I could barely remember which way the horsie went.”
Elato stretched out his arms before accepting a box of chess books from Cadis and putting it next to the chessboards. “Yeah, you’re right, son. We shouldn’t expect much! They’re still just learning. And it’s called a knight, not a horsie.”
“I know, dad!’ protested Cadis, and Elato rustled his son’s hair with a smirk before closing the trunk and hopping into the front passenger seat of the car. Cadis went to his seat in the middle, and Mateus went to drive. With the children’s chess event over, it was now time to go home.
They slowly went down the main street of Louis Creek, Elato occasionally reaching over to attempt to honk the horn at other drivers, Mateus covering the wheel so his husband couldn’t do so. Cadis leaned back and got out his phone, intending to text his best friend Sevvie, when suddenly he nearly jumped back in his seat, screaming.
There was a teenage boy! Floating in front of him! His neck was split wide open, and he was covered in blood from the neck down, staining his pure white robes and part of his long blonde hair. His eyes were sad but unshocked, he didn’t seem alarmed by the fluid that covered him. Mateus nearly slammed the brakes.
“SON!?”
Mateus looked, panicked, at the rear view mirror as Elato twisted around. “Th- there, I sa-saw a boy, right in front of me, my age, he-”
/PLEASE! STOP!/ Cadis froze in alarm as the boy touched his forehead, and as he did somehow somehow put thoughts in his head. /Please, my name is Jiro and I need your help, but it is vitally important that your fathers don’t know about me! Don’t tell them anything more!/
Cadis had paused, and Elato, looking to Mateus, smiled widely, panic vanishing. “Cade, you probably just saw a ghost. It’s a great sign. It means that you’re a mage like your dad and I and we can finally start telling you about magic and our secret wizard histories.”
Cadis literally didn’t know if his father was telling the truth or making one of his weird jokes again. Then he realized that he was talking about magic being real, it had to be a joke. Then he realized he had literally just seen a ghost! A ghost who was now sitting next to him in the seat next to him, resting a hand on his hand. “A-are you serious?”
“As serious as the sun is bright, Cadis.” said Elato. “Mateus, confirm that I’m not lying.”
“Your father isn’t lying.” said Mateus. “Cadis, keep describing this ghost. Elato, try and look at him too.”
/Please. Tell them you saw nothing./
“I- I made it up.” said Cadis. He somehow saw his father’s eyes change, look like they were made of pure, brilliant emerald, but as he looked around Cadis his eyes did not rest upon Jiro. “Just like how you guys are making up this wizard thing.”
“The wizard thing is totally real, Cadis.” said Elato. “I’ll prove it to you when you get home. But… shit, I guess you’re right about making up the ghost. Why would you do that? Why would you make up a ghost?”
Cadis looked away. “I thought it would be funny.”
“Ghosts are no laughing matter, Cade.” said Elato. “Most of them need to be exoricized or banished for their own good. They get weird after so many years being dead. They’re dangerous.”
Cadis looked at Jiro, who shook his head ‘no’ and frowned apologetically. “But they must be so afraid, if they’re dead. Nobody knows what happens after you die.”
“Actually, most people are reincarnated.” said Mateus. “It’s a proven fact.”
Cadis grasped his head to deal with the revelations. He almost wished his fathers had stayed for the after-chess toddler snacktime.
“I wish that a day off from school meant a day off from learning.” said Kaima as she got into the back seat of her fathers’ SUV.
“You mean that you didn’t like the Pickle Museum?” questioned Krenmyr, one of her fathers.
Kaima rolled her eyes. “What, you mean that all the times that I said ‘I hate this place’, ‘this place is the worst’ and ‘can we go home?’ didn’t clue you in?” asked Kaima.
Krenmyr frowned as ae made sure Kaima was properly buckled in. “I thought we all had a good time. The Pickle Museum is an important part of Old Louis Creek! It used to be one of the major industries in our little town!”
“Yeah, dad, I know, I suffered through the museum. Promise me we never have to go there ever again.”
Eurynomos, getting into the seat behind his little sister, mused that he actually thought the Pickle Museum was really cool and that he especially liked the pickle samples at the end, but he would never tell his dads that. His other father, Mazin, was getting into the front passenger seat of the SUV after packing the Pickle History merchandise into the trunk.
Not really wanting to hear another argument between Kaima and his parents, Eurynomos simply slipped his headphones on, plugged them into his iPhone, and cued his Music to Drown Out Family’ playlist. As the sound of symphonic metal came over him, Eurynomos began to imagine that he was anywhere but here, in the SUV, sitting on the accumulated dust of cheetos Kaina’s friends bought into the car (they never respected Mazin’s no-food policy).
Eurynomos imagined he was walking down the streets of Old Louis Creek with someone. His brain filled his companion in, but he wasn’t really important. They climbed the steps behind the old canning plant down to the creek and took off their shoes, dipping their toes in. But his friend wasn’t wearing shoes? Okay, a weird detail, but sometimes your brain came up with pointless stuff. The water rushed past their feet, but… not his friend’s?
What sort of-
Suddenly, Eurynomos felt like he couldn’t open his eyes, like he was really there. Was he asleep? Dreaming, even in a car, listening to music?
The person sitting next to him was a young man his own age, pale, with long blonde hair, longer than even Auncle Chandra’s. The word that bubbled to Eurynomos’s mind when looking at him was soft. Yeah, soft, round cheeks and shoulders and arms and hands, dressed in robes that were pure white despite the fact they had been climbing around outside. Eurynomos tried to open his eyes, then decided not to try. This was a pleasant enough dream, even if it was kind of weird.
“Is this a dream?” asked Eurynomos.
The boy looked shocked. “Oh! You’ve- um. Kind of. This is all happening inside your mind, but right you’re perfectly awake. It’s a daydream, but you’re not fully in control. I’m sorry.”
“Are you in control?” asked Eurynomos.
“Yes. I am. Eurynomos, my name is Jiro, and I am a ghost. I would like your help to seek revenge on those who wronged me. Killed me.”
“Why do you need my help?” asked Eurynomos.
“Your fathers have not told you this yet, but you are a mage. They both are wizards, and so will your sister be once she’s old enough.”
“Won’t she be a witch?”
Jiro shrugged. “I think wizard is a pretty gender-neutral term.”
“Yeah, fair enough. Why do you need me? If my fathers are wizards, why don’t you ask them to help?”
“They will not understand. They’ll try to destroy me, or force me to die. Many mages fear ghosts. But I’m not dangerous. I just need your help.”
Eurynomos thought this over. “What precisely do you need me to do?”
“I am appearing to three others. They’re all also wizards. You four will meet and help me get my revenge.”
“Who killed you? And why?”
“They were a family of blood mages. Hated among almost all other wizards, they kill people for their blood and use it in their magic. First they kidnapped me because I am the child of a family of mages, and would likely become a mage myself. Once they realized I had begun to develop my powers, they harvested me. The blood of a young virgin mage is considered extremely valuable.”
“How did they know you were a virgin?”
Jiro looked unamused. “They kidnapped me when I was a toddler.”
Eurynomos’s face twisted. “Aw man, that really sucks. Who was your family? Are they really powerful? Maybe they can help us out?”
Jiro looked sadly at Eurynomos. “I don’t even know their name.”
“You mean that you didn’t like the Pickle Museum?” questioned Krenmyr, one of her fathers.
Kaima rolled her eyes. “What, you mean that all the times that I said ‘I hate this place’, ‘this place is the worst’ and ‘can we go home?’ didn’t clue you in?” asked Kaima.
Krenmyr frowned as ae made sure Kaima was properly buckled in. “I thought we all had a good time. The Pickle Museum is an important part of Old Louis Creek! It used to be one of the major industries in our little town!”
“Yeah, dad, I know, I suffered through the museum. Promise me we never have to go there ever again.”
Eurynomos, getting into the seat behind his little sister, mused that he actually thought the Pickle Museum was really cool and that he especially liked the pickle samples at the end, but he would never tell his dads that. His other father, Mazin, was getting into the front passenger seat of the SUV after packing the Pickle History merchandise into the trunk.
Not really wanting to hear another argument between Kaima and his parents, Eurynomos simply slipped his headphones on, plugged them into his iPhone, and cued his Music to Drown Out Family’ playlist. As the sound of symphonic metal came over him, Eurynomos began to imagine that he was anywhere but here, in the SUV, sitting on the accumulated dust of cheetos Kaina’s friends bought into the car (they never respected Mazin’s no-food policy).
Eurynomos imagined he was walking down the streets of Old Louis Creek with someone. His brain filled his companion in, but he wasn’t really important. They climbed the steps behind the old canning plant down to the creek and took off their shoes, dipping their toes in. But his friend wasn’t wearing shoes? Okay, a weird detail, but sometimes your brain came up with pointless stuff. The water rushed past their feet, but… not his friend’s?
What sort of-
Suddenly, Eurynomos felt like he couldn’t open his eyes, like he was really there. Was he asleep? Dreaming, even in a car, listening to music?
The person sitting next to him was a young man his own age, pale, with long blonde hair, longer than even Auncle Chandra’s. The word that bubbled to Eurynomos’s mind when looking at him was soft. Yeah, soft, round cheeks and shoulders and arms and hands, dressed in robes that were pure white despite the fact they had been climbing around outside. Eurynomos tried to open his eyes, then decided not to try. This was a pleasant enough dream, even if it was kind of weird.
“Is this a dream?” asked Eurynomos.
The boy looked shocked. “Oh! You’ve- um. Kind of. This is all happening inside your mind, but right you’re perfectly awake. It’s a daydream, but you’re not fully in control. I’m sorry.”
“Are you in control?” asked Eurynomos.
“Yes. I am. Eurynomos, my name is Jiro, and I am a ghost. I would like your help to seek revenge on those who wronged me. Killed me.”
“Why do you need my help?” asked Eurynomos.
“Your fathers have not told you this yet, but you are a mage. They both are wizards, and so will your sister be once she’s old enough.”
“Won’t she be a witch?”
Jiro shrugged. “I think wizard is a pretty gender-neutral term.”
“Yeah, fair enough. Why do you need me? If my fathers are wizards, why don’t you ask them to help?”
“They will not understand. They’ll try to destroy me, or force me to die. Many mages fear ghosts. But I’m not dangerous. I just need your help.”
Eurynomos thought this over. “What precisely do you need me to do?”
“I am appearing to three others. They’re all also wizards. You four will meet and help me get my revenge.”
“Who killed you? And why?”
“They were a family of blood mages. Hated among almost all other wizards, they kill people for their blood and use it in their magic. First they kidnapped me because I am the child of a family of mages, and would likely become a mage myself. Once they realized I had begun to develop my powers, they harvested me. The blood of a young virgin mage is considered extremely valuable.”
“How did they know you were a virgin?”
Jiro looked unamused. “They kidnapped me when I was a toddler.”
Eurynomos’s face twisted. “Aw man, that really sucks. Who was your family? Are they really powerful? Maybe they can help us out?”
Jiro looked sadly at Eurynomos. “I don’t even know their name.”
Lucien very carefully reached behind his desk. Behind a secret panel, Lucien kept his secret books. His parents didn’t allow him to read any books they hadn’t specifically approved, and they would especially hate this one. It was about a young transgender wizard who fought the dangerous Sand-Eaters, a group of evil wizards who wished to devour all of time. In this chapter, Emilise discovered that her human friend, Bethany, had betrayed her to the Grey Council, a group who thought that all wizards must be destroyed. How would Emilise escape from both the Sand-Eaters and the Grey Council, with their powerful anti-wizard weapons?
“Emily? What are you doing in there?” Lucien hurriedly put the book inside his pillowcase and pulled his laptop from his bed.
“Homework!”
Not knocking, Lucien’s mother, Marissa entered the room, a bright green shirt and pink skirt in hand. “Look, sweetie, I got you some new clothes. I want you to try them on. I think they’ll make you feel more feminine.”
“I don’t want to feel feminine, mom. I’m a boy.”
Marissa rolled her eyes. “No matter how many times you say you’re a boy, it doesn’t change the simple biological fact that you’re a girl.”
“Sex and gender are different things, mom.”
“No, they’re not. You’re spending too much on that website. The tumblrs. I think I’m going to delete your account.”
“But all my friends are on tumblr!”
“Well, I think you can make some new friends at that school of yours.”
After coming out to his parents, Lucien had major changes made in his life. But they were definitely not the ones he wanted. He’d always been a little bit of a nerd and a little bit of a “tomboy” but his parents had removed him from any club, activity, or sport they had considered unfeminine. He had been going to Louis Creek High School, but he’d been transferred to an all-girls prep school nearly an hour away, and they had completely changed his wardrobe. Gone were the pants and shorts and literally anything that was at all “boyish”, gone was all of his sports stuff. At Future Women Leaders Prepatory Academy, all girls (and trans boys forced to go there) were expected to wear a stereotypical private school uniform, a jacket, white shirt, and skirt, with no tennis shoes, sandals or boots allowed, except on career days, when they were expected to wear something suitable for a job interview.
Worst of all, Lucien’s psychologist totally agreed with all these changes and had even suggested some of them! He also suggested praising Lucien whenever he acted “feminine”,telling his parents that it would encourage him to be more feminine, and scolding him for masculinity. They’d always been fine with him being a geek and a “tomboy”, but now that he realized he was an actual boy he was expected to be the perfect girly girl.
Lucien's parents were doing this to him because they were obsessed with both science and ‘normalcy”. Lucien’s father, Parker, was a biologist, and had explained to him in great detail his beliefs about transgender people- that they were all mentally ill and confused. Lucien’s parents didn’t believe in anything they couldn’t see or understand. Lucien often thought of them like the Dursleys in Harry Potter. They shared the same hate for anything out of the norm.
Lucien flipped his laptop open. “Mom, I’ll try it on later, okay?”
Marissa sighed. “Okay, dear. Promise?”
“Promise,”
Now that Marissa was gone, Lucien browsed to tumblr, until suddenly he saw him. There was a boy. In his room. He had just appeared!
Lucien did his best not to scream.
“Emily? What are you doing in there?” Lucien hurriedly put the book inside his pillowcase and pulled his laptop from his bed.
“Homework!”
Not knocking, Lucien’s mother, Marissa entered the room, a bright green shirt and pink skirt in hand. “Look, sweetie, I got you some new clothes. I want you to try them on. I think they’ll make you feel more feminine.”
“I don’t want to feel feminine, mom. I’m a boy.”
Marissa rolled her eyes. “No matter how many times you say you’re a boy, it doesn’t change the simple biological fact that you’re a girl.”
“Sex and gender are different things, mom.”
“No, they’re not. You’re spending too much on that website. The tumblrs. I think I’m going to delete your account.”
“But all my friends are on tumblr!”
“Well, I think you can make some new friends at that school of yours.”
After coming out to his parents, Lucien had major changes made in his life. But they were definitely not the ones he wanted. He’d always been a little bit of a nerd and a little bit of a “tomboy” but his parents had removed him from any club, activity, or sport they had considered unfeminine. He had been going to Louis Creek High School, but he’d been transferred to an all-girls prep school nearly an hour away, and they had completely changed his wardrobe. Gone were the pants and shorts and literally anything that was at all “boyish”, gone was all of his sports stuff. At Future Women Leaders Prepatory Academy, all girls (and trans boys forced to go there) were expected to wear a stereotypical private school uniform, a jacket, white shirt, and skirt, with no tennis shoes, sandals or boots allowed, except on career days, when they were expected to wear something suitable for a job interview.
Worst of all, Lucien’s psychologist totally agreed with all these changes and had even suggested some of them! He also suggested praising Lucien whenever he acted “feminine”,telling his parents that it would encourage him to be more feminine, and scolding him for masculinity. They’d always been fine with him being a geek and a “tomboy”, but now that he realized he was an actual boy he was expected to be the perfect girly girl.
Lucien's parents were doing this to him because they were obsessed with both science and ‘normalcy”. Lucien’s father, Parker, was a biologist, and had explained to him in great detail his beliefs about transgender people- that they were all mentally ill and confused. Lucien’s parents didn’t believe in anything they couldn’t see or understand. Lucien often thought of them like the Dursleys in Harry Potter. They shared the same hate for anything out of the norm.
Lucien flipped his laptop open. “Mom, I’ll try it on later, okay?”
Marissa sighed. “Okay, dear. Promise?”
“Promise,”
Now that Marissa was gone, Lucien browsed to tumblr, until suddenly he saw him. There was a boy. In his room. He had just appeared!
Lucien did his best not to scream.
Author's Note: I am going to not release all of Jiro Story on this, as I do intend to publish it at some point (possibly as a web serial, so it will be getting its own blog). But to not publish any Jiro Story would be wrong.
This was the first thing I wrote after the surgery.
Word Count: This chapter? 3201 Words. Jiro Story in total? 146,011 words.
Date: August 19th.
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