Himitsukichi

It’s the first day of April. A new month, the continuation of spring, and the mark of the worst holiday ever concocted by human beings. I don’t know who the hell decided that we needed an entire day dedicated to stupid juvenile pranks, but if I ever came across a time machine, the first thing I’d do is prevent the asshole who came up with April Fool’s Day from ever being born. A day where people are allowed to get away with being shitty under the guise of “pranks” and when every website on the internet is filled with shitty joke stories or fucked up webpages that make the site impossible to view normally. A terrible day where you can’t trust anyone or anything.

Somehow, someway, this shitty holiday never gets any criticism and people both in real life and the internet continue to celebrate it. You know, I may not be religious, but I understand the significance of religious holidays. I can understand the significance of old historical federal holidays in the countries of the old world. And I can even understand the significance of some of the more mundane holidays like Valentine’s and Father’s and Mother’s Day. But why…Why have a holiday dedicated to being an annoying shithead? What’s the significance of that? What good does that bring to the world?

Nothing, that’s what. While I have work tonight, at least Mildred is respectful enough of my disdain for this holiday that I know she won’t do anything to me. Ah, but how to spend the day is the real question. The usual websites I browse are filled with the same April Fool’s nonsense, so there’s no point in browsing them. I’m not really in the mood to watch any of my DVDs, so I spent all morning playing one of those deck building card video games that I rarely win at but still kill several hours of my life away with.

By the time the afternoon rolls around, I feel a desire to go outside for a bit before I need to leave for work. But considering today’s date, I’d need to go somewhere without many people around. There’s only one place I can think of that fulfills that condition, the old abandoned house. Well, Ariel knows about the abandoned house, but I suppose if given the choice, I’d rather put up with her borderline sexual harassment over getting pranked for a shitty holiday. During my walk to the abandoned house, I take great care to make sure that no one can come up to me to perform some atrocious “prank” on me. When I arrive at the house, I can easily make out Ariel’s bright hair. I can’t imagine school’s been out for that long, which makes me wonder if she decided to walk all the way from here straight from school. She seems to be looking at some deer that are several feet away from the house.

“O-Oh Gray.”

She sees me approaching and speaks in the softest I’ve ever heard her speak. I guess even she understands that her normal tone of voice would scare off deer. She seems to be entranced by them.

“…Bet you never saw deer back in LOVE, huh?”

“O-Only in movies and shows. They really are gentle looking creatures.”

“You’re lucky to see them at this time. Just a month earlier, and you’d be seeing the bucks in the midst of their antlers shedding.”

“S-Shedding? Like what snakes do?”

“Yeah, during the early months after mating season, the male deer will shed their antlers, and unlike when snakes shed their skin, it gets all bloody and nasty. Seriously, it’s like some shit from a heavy metal album.”

The only reason I know this much about deer antler shedding is because one year for April Fools, my sister “pranked” me by taping several photos of deer in the midst of antler shedding in my room. Well, that and I knew a guy in high school who liked to collect deer antlers.

“W-Whoa…”

Ariel’s eyes widen at the new information she’s been given and looks back at the deer. Come to think of it, these are does, so that whole spiel about antler shedding was pointless, but whatever.

“So what, you’ve decided to hang out at my special hang out spot too? Is this part of your grand plan to seduce me or something?”

“W-What!? No! I just think this place is cool, okay? B-Besides, there’s no functioning indoor plumbing, and the idea of having sex without taking a shower after grosses me out.”

Her voice is back to being loud again which startles the deer and they run off.

“A-Aww geez, now the deer are gone! This is your fault!”

I’m not the one with a naturally obnoxious voice kid.

“…Damn, and I was finally getting something good from this shitty day. Fucking dipshits at school think April Fools Day means they can spit gum in my hair and grope me! A-And then when I punch them in the face, I get in trouble and the teachers tell me I need to get a sense of humor!”

I see the quality of educators hasn’t improved in the slightest after my time in school.

“…Yeah, well that’s April Fools Day for you. My brother once dumped water on me while I was taking a dump on that day, and now I can’t shit in public restrooms even if I have diarrhea.”

I’ve never told a single soul about that in my life, not even my ex. But I can live with throwing away some dignity if it means having a comrade in hating April Fool’s Day.

“I dunno about that. Back in LOVE, my moms and me would play funny goofy pranks together. Everyone here seems to have a fucked up take on it.”

Son of a bitch, I revealed embarrassing information about myself for nothing. At least it’s highly unlikely she’ll ever release that information to anyone else I know.

“Well, since the deer are gone, I’m gonna head inside the house.”

Ariel casually walks into the house and I follow her in. It’s true the house has no indoor plumbing, and it’s rather dusty. But I do regret not going inside it sooner as there’s still some couches and chairs to sit and relax in. Ariel makes herself comfortable and lies down on one of the couches and kicks her shoes off.

“…Ooh, I can’t wait for summer break. I’m gonna be a freshman in high school this fall!”

I’m not sure what she thinks will magically change about high school. I suppose the kids will be just a bit less shitty, but that’s only because they’ll be insanely horny and/or high. Well, I guess I’m not in any right to look down on the kids who choose to get high. It’s really the only way to survive high school.

“Hey Gray, is there a cheerleading team I could join like in the movies? I love how cheerleading uniforms look!”

“Nope. There are some sports clubs, but we don’t have anything like the school sports teams you see in old world movies. So, no cheerleaders. Sorry you won’t be able to live out your dream of getting into an orgy with football jocks.”

The vulgar comment is enough to startle Ariel out of her relaxed pose.

“W-What!? What makes you think I want to get into orgies like some cheap hooker!? I want a loving boyfriend or a sex friend, not…that!”

I know that I just thought it’d be funny to get her flustered, and I was right.

“Well maybe you should be happy cheerleaders aren’t a thing here. Surely, you’ve watched enough old world movies to know most people saw cheerleaders as slutty, right?”

“N-Not that I’m aware of, they just tended to be the popular girls from what I’ve seen…”

Hmm, my brain might be scrambling what happens in the pornos and what happens in regular movies again.

“Hmm…Maybe I should just not bother with high school then?”

“No, you should, if only to delay adulthood as long as you can.”

“Why? The only tolerable people outside of my adopted family so far have been you and Mildred. There aren’t any universities and colleges in the territories either, right? So, it’s not like I need to get a degree for a high paying job. Not sure if I wanna work at the same store as you, that’d be a little weird. Are there any pet stores around here? Pets were illegal in LOVE.”

I mean, yeah there’s like one pet store around here, but due to my sister’s weak constitution, my family couldn’t have pets growing up, and I can’t be bothered to raise a smaller creature when I can barely take care of myself.

“Look, being an adult’s pretty shitty. You have to deal with a lot more personal responsibilities compared to when you’re young. Yeah, school sucks and everyone else sucks, but just put up with it and delay the inevitability of adulthood for as long as you can.”

Ariel doesn’t seem at all convinced by me.

“…You sound like one of those miserable salarymen in old Japanese movies and shows. You sure you’re not suicidal?”

Oh god, she’s trying to play therapist with me for free.

“Not in any way whatsoever. I’m just telling it like it is. Anyways, I should probably head back home and start preparing for my shift.”

I figure it’s best to leave now before Ariel gets too insufferable. The fact that an annoying teenage girl forced herself into my life and there isn’t anything I can really do about it is a pretty sad commentary on my existence. Tonight’s shift is just going to be me and Mildred, so any further annoyances I have to deal with will only come from customers.

“…Hmm, that sounds frustrating, but it seems like she doesn’t have anyone else to be friends with.”

Despite it being a Friday night, it’s been a pretty slow shift with not many customers coming in. So, most of my shift has just been me complaining to Mildred about Ariel.

“I don’t want to be friends with some bratty kid who has plans of seducing me, thanks.”

It’s almost closing time, so I’m vacuuming the store floor.

“You’re free to do that, but I can’t help but worry for that girl. Growing up that sheltered means she has even less understanding of how the real world works compared to the average LOVE citizen.”

Does my telling Mildred about Ariel being from LOVE count as me breaking my promise to her not to tell anyone? I get that sounds like a stupid question, but Mildred was in LOVE during it’s conception, and she’s not one to blab to others about something like this.

“I get that, but why should I have to play daddy for her when I never wanted kids in the first place?”

“Never said you did. All I’m saying is that she needs a certain kind of help that she’s not getting in her regular life.”

Maybe Mildred doesn’t understand exactly what she’s saying, but it’s clear that she still wants me to hold some responsibility for Ariel’s stupid life choices. Mildred goes to turn off the music player in the store, leaving the only noise remaining being the humming of the vacuum.

*SLAM*

The front door is kicked open by a man holding a gun.

“This is a robbery! Put your fuckin’ hands up where I can see them!”

My first reaction to the man is disbelief. I’ve never been in a situation like this before, and it feels unreal. Surely some random man isn’t threatening me with a gun right now, right?

“Uh…”

I put my hands up as the man points his gun at me. I don’t know anything about guns, but he seems to be holding a black pistol. I can feel my body shaking. Is this how I’m going to die? The robber storms to the front desk.

“Open the cash register! Hands where I can see them!”

Mildred lifts her arms as the robber aims his gun at her. She’s surprisingly calm given the circumstances. Maybe the store’s been robbed before in the past?

“…What do you want?”

Mildred calmly speaks to the robber, as if he’s just another customer.

“…The fuck kind of question is that? I want everything in the register!”

Despite the furious screeching of the robber, Mildred remains bizarrely calm. She’s always been a weirdo, but this goes beyond just being a weirdo. My heart is beating a mile a minute, and breathing has become more difficult.

“…Ha ha ha…”

Nervous laughter leaks out of my mouth, which of course pisses the robber off and causes him to point his gun right back at me.

“The fuck are you laughing at!?”

Shit. I might actually die. All I can think about is this one movie I saw about two guys working retail and how the original ending for that movie was the main guy getting shot and killed by a robber. My life has been so meaningless and pathetic that pop culture is all I can think about during my last mom-

*BANG*

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

In a split second, the sound of a gun being shot goes off. My ears are ringing. The robber screams in pain, drops his gun, and falls to the ground holding his right leg. Mildred is holding a white pistol at the front desk. Obviously, she’s the one who shot the robber. I’ve known since my first day working here that she keeps a gun in a drawer at the front desk, but this is the first time I’ve seen it in action.

“A Glock with an external hammer? I’ve seen kiddie water guns more realistic looking than that.”

Mildred admonishes the man as she puts her pistol away. It seems to be that he was threatening the store with a fake gun. She walks over to him and picks up the apparently fake gun.

“No need to be scared Gray, look.”

She shoots the fake gun and out pops a small flag with the word “BANG” on it. I didn’t know joke guns like this existed outside of cartoons.

“…I’ve been hearing news reports of the youth prank robbing establishments with fake guns today. This guy’s lucky I don’t shoot to kill.”

The robber is moaning in pain and clutching his bleeding leg as Mildred comments on the gun.

“It…It was just an April Fool’s joke…”

The robber struggles with getting his words out. Mildred looks down on him with the kind of face you make towards someone who’s so fucking stupid that calling them a fucking idiot wouldn’t be enough to express how stupid you think they are.

“…Let’s get this pathetic kid to the clinic before he bleeds all over the carpet.”

Thus, the shop was closed a half hour earlier than usual in order to get the shithead prank robber to the clinic. The clinic is about a twenty minute walk away from Mildred’s store, but the two of us had to help support the shitty prank robber, which added an extra ten minutes onto that walk. Of course, when we arrived at the clinic, we didn’t follow in with the prank robber. We just pushed him inside the front door and then left. No way in hell are either of us gonna pay the medical bills coming from his brainless actions. April Fool’s Day truly is the worst holiday.

“…Well, that was certainly a way to end the workday. Sorry you had to go through that Gray. You doing alright? You seemed pretty rattled up when the moron came in.”

All the fear I felt from that moment is gone, but I can still feel the adrenaline pumping through me. I have a feeling I won’t be able to sleep well tonight.

“Uh, yeah…I’m uh…I’m doing okay.”

Mildred puts her hand on my shoulder.

“You sure? You still seem a bit shook up. Come on, let’s head over to The Booze Stand. That should help calm your nerves.”

I have no idea what the hell she’s talking about.

“The…Booze Stand?”

Mildred looks annoyed with me.

“That’s the name of the bar that Liam’s parents run! How do you not know that, Gray!?”

Oh. The name was probably mentioned a few times during my time at work, but it just never registered in my mind. I also don’t really have the money to go drinking at random bars.

“…Sorry. Guess I forgot. I guess I don’t mind going there. You sure you’ll be okay being out so late?”

“Eh, if I can still manage running a store until 11 at my age, it won’t kill me to go to the bar every now and then. Especially if I only have water.”

Well, if she’s okay with it, then I guess it’s no problem. The bar is only five minutes away from the clinic, which is a pretty smart location for a bar when you think about it. The interior doesn’t seem all that different from a typical bar. Not that I would know. The idea of drowning my sorrows around other people bothers me, so I do all my drinking at home whenever I have the money. There are a few people in the bar drinking and there’s some swing music playing from a jukebox in the corner. A middle aged blonde woman comes to greet us.

“…Oh Mildred! Hi! It’s always such a pleasure to see you! And who’s this? Another employe I take it?”

Even if she didn’t greet us, I can easily pick out that this woman is Liam’s mother just from glancing at her face. Although they aren’t carbon copies. Liam has more of a creepy and emotionless look to him while his mother seems more, well, motherly. She and Mildred seem to be on good terms.

“Yup, he’s Gray. He’s been working for me for six years now. Some idiot thought it’d be hilarious to pull a fake prank robbery on us for April Fool’s and while we’re okay, Gray’s a little rattled from it. So I figured we’d come here to relax just a bit.”

Author’s Note: So, I’m putting Arc 0 on hiatus for now and just continuing on with the main story, and wow. Literally all my writer’s block issues were coming from Arc 0. Which is a bit concerning as I feel it may be saying something about my writing skills. But hey, it’s nice to be back in the present again! And this arc should hopefully prove to be interesting for readers.

People tend to get sick during the winter. It’s rarely anything more serious than a flu. Outsiders tend to accuse HOME of having too many strict laws, but we don’t criminalize nor demonize getting ill in the same way LOVERS do. The development of modern medicine was miraculous at the beginning but gradually caused more problems with society. There is of course nothing wrong with wanting to heal the sick, but people of the old world became paranoid of random illnesses and no longer trusted their immune systems.

This was caused by propaganda from pharmaceutical companies (whose owners would end up becoming members of the elite and government of LOVE) that lied to people and told them that getting ill was a failure of morality, that getting someone else ill was to make you no different than a murderer, that you needed to replace God with toxic pills and vaccines. This worship of poisonous modern medicine was a major factor in the end of the Old World.

Then the lies about the so-called ‘deadly spores’ was pushed by governments worldwide. This lie was used to forcefully lock people in their homes, forced to cover their entire faces and bodies when outside, and use them as guinea pigs to try out whatever pills or injections that scientists had come up with. Human beings naturally have no morals, which is why they cling to moral leaders in order to decide what’s ‘right’ and what’s ‘wrong’. Where I live, we use God as our moral leader, to LOVERS and their precursors, ‘science’ was their moral leader.

That’s why as the world was fracturing, the people who would become the first LOVERS were more than happy to follow the illogical lies about the ‘deadly spores’ and got great satisfaction out of persecuting those who even so much as mildly questioned things. It only got worse as LOVE was formed, refusing monthly ‘medicine treatments’ from the government could cause you to lose LOVE POINTS. I remember Mr. C once told me that when people get sick in LOVE, tests will be done in the residential tower to see who gave them their illness, and the culprit will have LOVE POINTS reduced, even if the culprit was mere asymptomatic at the time. Indeed, merely existing as a human being in LOVE means you’re always at risk for losing LOVE POINTS

Thankfully I wasn’t born in LOVE. Although I may have my struggles here, people from HOME at least understand that getting sick is a part of human life. Catching someone else’s cold isn’t the end of the world, and we would only ever get mad at someone for making us sick if they say, coughed or sneezed in our direction on purpose. You are not a bad person for getting ill, nor are you deserving of mockery, hatred, or persecution for not wanting to deal with poisonous modern medicine. That’s why I hold no resentment towards the person who gave me this illness, whoever they are. It is unpleasant though, I’ve been vomiting an awful lot, and my feverish body is making me sweat like it’s the middle of summer.

“Poor Marco…”

Erica and Isabella are standing by my bed. Isabella places an empty bucket by the bed. It’s the bucket I’d been vomiting in and she just finished washing it. She’s been acting as a nurse for me, and I should really return the favor once I’m healthy again.

“It looks like he’s going to miss Christmas mass.”

It’s Christmas Eve and my family is dressed up for church. Christmas mass is always one of the biggest events of the year, and even those who usually skip Sunday mass attend the Christmas mass. Not only that, but even though the mass is at midnight, my family are leaving in the early evening to visit with family friends and other relatives. My absence will be noticed, but there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

“…Thanks for taking care of me. Be sure to give grandma and grandpa my regards when you see them.”

I speak to my sisters while sitting up in bed.

“Mother made you a bowl of tomato soup you can have if you get hungry.”

My parents and Dina enter the room to give their goodbyes.

“You’ve been working hard this winter…Looks like it was a bit too much for your body. Be sure to rest up!”

Father seems to be the most relaxed out of everyone. He’s the kind of man who sees exhaustion as a sign of working hard, so he probably thinks I’ve earned my rest. I’d prefer it if I could rest without vomiting and sweating so much though.

“We’re heading out now. We’ll be home late. You just rest now.”

My mother lays a wet cloth on my face as she gives her goodbyes. I close my eyes to rest more as I hear the sound of my family’s footsteps and them leaving the house I shift around for a bit trying to sleep, but it’s just not coming so I decide to get out of bed. I feel so sweaty and disgusting. I really want to take a bath, but walking to the bath house in this weather is a terrible idea. Well…nobody will be home for a while, so I could probably take my pajamas off for a bit. I hesitantly remove my pajama shirt and trousers. Despite knowing that nobody’s going to be home in a while I still can’t help but feel nervous. I mentally tell myself I’ll be fine and that it’s not wrong because I’ll still be leaving my undergarments on.

After the shirt and trousers are off, I lay them on my bed, and I can feel a slight coolness against my sweaty body. It feels nice. Right, mom made me tomato soup for dinner? Sounds good, and it’s been a while since I last vomited so I may be okay as long as I don’t eat it too fast. I walk slowly out of my room and towards the dining room, still feeling nervous about someone possibly walking in on me. Even if I’m not naked, it’d be a real problem if Dina or Erica saw me like this. The house is silent and filled with only the sounds of me sitting myself down and eating soup. The silence of the house leaves me alone with my thoughts.

My mind is a bit foggy, but it’s much clearer than it was yesterday. In an odd way, getting ill like this has given me a break from the general grind of life…and thinking about how I’ll have to return back to that grind once I feel better. No matter how much effort I put into being with Gloria, my friends, or working at the shop, I still feel unhappy deep down inside. I still have those weird thoughts of what life would be like if I were a woman, or if I had been born in the old world. Most disturbingly, I’m beginning to have thoughts of ‘what if I’d been born in the territories or LOVE?’. I know there are a lot of problems with LOVE are and the territories, but surely some of it is exaggerated for propaganda?

I understand that LOVE is a society that forces propaganda onto its people, but how can the people of my home state, if not the entirety of HOME, be so certain that there’s absolutely no propaganda forced onto us either? I remember my interactions with Mr. C. We had our disagreements, but we got along and I liked hearing his stories. But somehow me interacting with him was a problem because he’s a Jew? Everyone here is so proud of being Italian, but we don’t even live in Italy can’t ever visit Italy, and we’re all just okay with that? Is modern technology really the one reason why society went downhill? Could my teachers have been exaggerating their claims about LOVE?

“…”

I of course can’t talk about these thoughts to anyone, not even at confessional. Talking to Elliot about them would most likely just make my thoughts worse. I fear that my problems have extended beyond my struggles with masculinity.

“…I need to do something about this…”

I mumble to no one in particular as I finish my soup and put the dishes away. The soup was only room temperature when I ate it, and I can feel the foolishness of my decision to strip my clothes off as the cold of the winter makes me shiver. I should get redressed and head back to bed. As I head back to my bedroom, I see the door to the bedroom of my sisters slightly ajar. I should probably close it. I walk up to the door to close it, but I stop when I get a look inside my sisters’ room.

There are three bedrooms in my house. One for my parents, one for the daughters, and one for the sons. Since I’m the only son in the house, that means my bedroom has always been exclusively for me. When I was child, I would visit my sisters in their bedroom fairly often to play with them. This habit eventually stopped when I realized that being with my sisters so often made me too feminine, so it’s been a while since I was last inside this room. The most major change I notice are Dina and Erica’s beds. The last time I was here, those two were toddlers who were too small for regular beds. I do remember when carpenters were called in to make their regular sized beds though.

There are three beds (one average, and one bunk bed), a closet, two desk drawers, a vanity table with a mirror, a bookshelf, and a toy chest. It’s pretty obvious that Isabella sleeps in the normal bed in the left side of the room whereas the younger girls sleep in the bunk bed on the right side of the room. Looking at the bunk bed, I can even tell that Erica sleeps on the bottom bunk while Dina sleeps on the top bunk as the stuffed rabbit that Erica’s had ever since she was an infant is lying on the bottom bunk. I decide to walk over to the vanity table.

There’s a silver necklace lying on it. This is a necklace that Isabella got for her 16th birthday. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s a gift that she’s always cherished, although she doesn’t wear it very often, most likely because she doesn’t want to risk ruining it. On the rare occasions Isabella wears this necklace, it always looks so lovely on her. I’ve always been envious on how women can wear nice things when men can wear no more than their wedding rings.

I want to try on Isabella’s necklace. It’s not a big deal, right? I know I shouldn’t, but everyone’s out of the house and they won’t be back until late. I’ll just do it tonight, and I’ll never do it again, no harm will be done if it’s just a little thing.

But that’s what I said about the camisole too…

Without thinking I sit myself down at the vanity desk, pick up the necklace, and clasp it around my neck. It looks well…It’s still a nice looking necklace, but it doesn’t look good on a sickly teenage boy at all. I go back to my room to fish out the camisole from the latest hiding spot I had it in, and look in my bedroom mirror.

“…Ugh…”

I still have nothing covering my undergarments. I don’t look like a lady at all. I would need to wear one of Isabella’s dresses to-

Wait, what am I doing? The camisole was already problem enough, now I’m wearing my sister’s special necklace too. Why am I even considering wearing one of her dresses!?

“…”

I walk back to my sisters’ room. Right, I need to take this necklace off, take the camisole off, put my pajamas back on and get back to bed. My illness is making me act strange, and I need to stop. But despite thinking that, despite knowing that, I feel the urge to look through the closet by Isabella’s bed. I should ignore this urge, but I guess my fogged up mind made me walk towards the closet door and open it. Inside are all of Isabella’s clothes. All the clothes that she wore as a child were handed down to Dina and Erica. I can see all of her dresses, shirts, skirts, stockings, and undergarments hanging in the closet, and her shoes neatly laid on the floor of it.

I can feel my heart beating hard. I’m about to do something terrible. Something that I will have to take to the grave with me. I could stop. I should stop. But I’m not. I step into the closet and examine my older sister’s clothing with fascination. There’s a light blue dress with white frills that catches my attention. It’s fine. Nobody will be home for a long time, as long as I only do this for tonight and never again, I can be forgiven. With that in mind I carefully pull the skirt off its hanger and uneasily start dressing myself. I struggle a little, but it doesn’t take too long for me to get the dress on. Like the camisole, it’s a bit loose in the chest area, but it otherwise seems to fit me okay. I step out of the closet to look at myself in the vanity mirror.

I look…okay? Well, I suppose I’m still sickly, I don’t have a feminine haircut, and I obviously lack any breasts. But I don’t think I look too terrible. Maybe it’s the illness talking, but I can’t help but like I could make for a pretty looking girl with enough effort. I’ll let myself stay in this dress for a few minutes before changing back into my normal clothes.

“…!?…?!…”

I suddenly hear voices coming from outside. Who’s out there? Nobody should be visiting us tonight. Is it thieves? Damn, I can’t have anyone see me dressed like this, but if it’s thieves then I need to find something to fight them with. I leave the girls’ room, and head to the kitchen to find father’s gun.

“…Dina it’s okay, you’re just sick…”

As the voices get closer, I hear the clear sound of my mother’s voice, and my blood runs cold. I need to run, but I can’t. But even if I could run, there’s no way I’d have the time to hide in the few seconds before my family opens the door, so I stay frozen. And the door opens.

“Let’s get you to bed…”

My family is standing at the front door staring at me. Mother is helping keep Dina steady, whose dress is disheveled and has vomit stains on it. I see. Dina caught my illness and everyonehad to return home early because of that, and now they’ve walked in on me dressed in Isabella’s clothes. My father is first person to react.

“Marco…What the hell are you doing?”

He looks confused. I don’t blame him.

“…”

I have no response. There is no excuse that could save me here, not even “My illness was making me act strange” would work because…what illness has ever caused someone to cross dress in their sister’s clothes? I keep standing there frozen. Isabella steps into the house, her face looking more and more distressed as she gets closer to me.

“Marco…Why are you wearing my necklace?”

Again, I can’t respond. “Because I wanted to” may be the truth, but it’s terrible to say.

“You stole your sister’s necklace!?”

Now father’s mad. He storms up to me and grabs me by the collar of the dress. The camisole underneath the dress becomes visible to both him and Isabella. Isabella’s eyes widen.

“That’s…That’s the camisole I thought I lost…You…You stole it!?”

Isabella’s face contorts into that of someone who feels betrayed. I can hear mother hurriedly shuffling the younger girls to their bedroom. Father is now looking at me with fury in his eyes.

“You…You stole your sister’s clothing so you could dress up like a pervert!? You piece of shit!”

Father punches me in the face. He may not be the strongest man out there but working a farm means that he has a decent strength, and I know I’m going to get a black eye from that. He then punches me in the stomach, which hurts far more than the punch to the face, and I end up coughing up some stomach bile from it.

“F-Father, please stop.”

Isabella tries to place herself between the both of us, which manages to distract father for a bit.

“Don’t you care that your brother is a thief and a pervert!?”

“I do care, but you know Dina and Erica can hear this commotion in our room and it’s going to upset them!”

Isabella isn’t one to talk back to our parents, but she’s not backing down and stares into father’s eyes. After what feels like half a minute of staring, father relents and releases me from his grip.

“…Fine, you deal with him. I’m going for a walk.”

He leaves the two of us alone and storms out the house. Only Isabella and me are left at the entrance of the house. Her gaze turns to me.

“Take off everything that isn’t yours Marco.”

Her voice is cold with no emotion. I do as she says and remove the necklace, dress, and camisole. She then takes the bundle of clothing from me. The face Isabella gives to me is one of deep emotional pain. Seeing that face hurts me far more than any of father’s punches did.

“…Why did you do this?”

Tears are forming in her eyes as she asks me. Even though I know there’s no good answer to this question, I have to be honest.

“I…”

But how do I explain everything?

“…I wanted to feel like a woman.”

That was the best explanation I could give. Isabella gives no response to that answer, nor does her facial expression change. She just silently walks off with her clothes in hand, leaving me alone, with the understanding that my life is never going to be the same again.

Author’s Note: So, I’m just gonna stop making promises on when chapters are released because even without writer’s block I still suck at releasing chapters in a reasonable fucking time. I should really work on that next year. Not much more to say about this chapter beyond DRAMA.

“So, what is this amazing thing you want to show us?”

Roberto has led us out to the forest. I hope this isn’t another dead animal.

“…I, I think I came across some high end tech.”

Alright, he has my attention. There’s just a random piece of illegal technology in the woods somewhere? Granted, it’s probably just a cellphone with a dead battery, but I still can’t help but feel curious. We walk around for several more minutes before Roberto suddenly runs up and points at the bottom of a tree.

“Right here. Look!”

The rest of us head over to Roberto’s location and look down. There’s a small modern looking black box. I can only presume that what Roberto wants to show us is inside the box.

“Here we go…”

Roberto lifts the cover of the box and then stands back up.

“…I think it’s some kind of modern camera.”

Looking inside I can see that yes, there is a small yellow digital camera lying on the ground.

“…Wow…”

Francesco leans in to get a better look. It’s nowhere near the level of the high tech phones you’d see in LOVE, but it’s still illegal foreign technology.

“How did this get here?”

Paolo puts his hand to his chin while asking. It’s a good question.

“Well, technology hasn’t always been illegal in HOME…”

I give out a random guess. Perhaps this is just an old relic of back before all states in HOME decided to ban all technology.

“Don’t ‘modern’ people use phones to take pictures? Why have a camera?”

“I think that’s a LOVE thing, I’ve had PearlCoin guys tell me that people in the territories don’t have all the fancy technology that LOVE does.”

As Paolo and I talk Francesco bends down to pick up the camera before Roberto smacks his hand.

“Don’t touch it idiot! We’ll get in trouble.”

He is right, we would be in severe trouble if anyone caught us holding on to this forbidden technology. Yet despite that, all four of us continue to stay where we are, staring at the camera with fascination.

“These…these are the kind of cameras where the pictures are immediately developed, right?”

“…Pretty sure they are, yeah…”

Francesco asks a simple question, and I offer a simple reply. I don’t know how much we spent looking at that camera, but it felt like hours.

“…It’s getting late, let’s head home.”

Paolo’s always the one who knows when it’s time for everyone to head home. We all nod our heads, and Roberto closes the box he opened before we leave the forest. Once we arrive back at the main town roads, we all give our goodbyes.

“See you later.”

“Bye!”

“It was nice hanging out again Marco!”

“Great seeing you all again too!”

I watch my friends as they walk off. As soon as they’re out of sight, I go back into the forest. I briskly walk as I try to recall the path that Roberto led us on. I don’t know what’s overcome me, but I feel an intense curiosity about that camera. I’m not going to take it home like an idiot of course, but I just want to know what immediately fully developed photos look like. But then again, will the camera even work? It was inside a sturdy looking box, so I doubt the weather’s affected it too much, but what if the batteries are dead? Then again, if the camera doesn’t work, then I suppose that’ll be God’s punishment for wanting to break rules.

It doesn’t take long for me to return to the box. Even though there’s no one nearby, I still look around as if I’m checking for people. Well, you can never be too careful when you’re breaking the law. There’s nobody around, and it’s doubtful anyone will come around here soon, so I kneel down by the black box and take the lid off. I slowly pick the camera up, as if it had thorns. Now…I know with digital cameras you can look at the pictures inside them if you press a certain button. I guess I’ll just press every button I see and if nothing happens then-

Suddenly, a picture shows up. I see, the camera is working. I guess that means the Lord is fine with me sinning in this manner then. The photo that shows up seems to be of a family in skimpy swimwear (well, skimpy by HOME standards anyways) at a uh…I believe this is a beach, right? There’s lots of sand by the water and there are ither people in the background with swimsuits too. The family seems to consist of a father, mother, and their two children, one boy and one girl. The boy seems to be a bit older than the girl. The father and mother are holding hands while the son and daughter are kneeled down by some sand building that I guess they made?

I flip to the next photo in the camera. This time it’s of the same family standing in front of a Christmas tree dressed in strange Christmas and winter themed sweaters. The children are joyously holding their Christmas presents. The daughter is holding a stuffed kitten toy, and the son is showing off what seems to be something for modern video games. The photo after that shows the family outdoors with a small puppy playing with the kids. I continue to flip through the photos, seeing the life story of this family contained in these photos. I see the small puppy gradually grow bigger into a mature dog, the children maturing and entering puberty, and the parents beginning to grow wrinkles and gray hair.

I see the children go through school graduations, birthday parties, school contests, and making friends. I see some other reoccurring adults and kids that I presume are uncles, aunts, and cousins. I see photos of the family in the snow, rain, and sunshine. The story of this family unfurls for me as I continue to examine the photos.

One photo stands out to me in particular. It’s of the daughter as a teenager wearing a beautiful pale blue dress standing with a young man wearing a tuxedo. They’re standing underneath a banner reading “Greenwood High Senior Prom 2019”. I remember Mr. C mentioning these prom events before to me. I guess high schools in the modern world like to have a special event for students where they dress nicely and romance other students. Schools encouraging courtship strikes me as odd, but the world outside of HOME being strange is nothing new to me.

There are several photos of the daughter and her lover at the prom, and I can’t help but be fascinated by the daughter. She’s nothing like how my teachers describe how women behaved before HOME came to fruition. Growing up, I was educated on how terrible women became before HOME and how terrible they are outside of HOME. How they’re all promiscuous abrasive harpies whose bad behavior was encouraged by secularism and moving away from God. How trying to fit into men’s roles made women neurotic and barely able to function without the help of being coddled by cultural leaders. How birth control made women selfish and destroyed world-wide birth rates. How they would cake themselves in makeup as a way to fool men into being used.

Now sure, I’m only looking at photos. I don’t know the personalities and history of any of these people beyond what I can in said photos. But just looking through the photos, I didn’t get a sense of this girl being the kind of modern woman that’s often derided in HOME. She just seemed like a nice girl who liked her family, liked animals and nail art, and really didn’t strike me as promiscuous in the least.

She also didn’t wear makeup in most of the photos, only on special occasions, and she didn’t seem to cake herself up in it either. I keep going back to the prom photo. The daughter…I think one of the birthday photos said her name Marisa? Yes, Marisa looks stunning in her prom photo. But I’m not falling in love with her, she’s just a person in photos after all. It’s moreso how…’familiar’ she looks. She looks like she could be one of my sisters, or a relative of mine or…

‘Do you hate that you were born a man?’

…Or a female version of me. That weird question Elliot asks pops up in my head. I scoffed at it before, but now it’s seeming a bit less ridiculous. I don’t really know how to process or describe my current feelings. All I know is that this old world family looked happy. The daughter looked like she was me from another universe. I think I should put the camera back in the box. Why the hell is this box out here anyway? I can only guess that the family in the photos used to live in this area before the end of the old world, and somehow, despite the modern technology ban leading to all modern technology in HOME being destroyed, I guess the authorities missed a few items.

I hastily put the camera back in the box and leave the forest. Looking at those photos was a mistake; I spent the entirety of my walk back home thinking about what life would be like had I been born female or born in the old world or LOVE or one of the territories. Things I really shouldn’t be thinking about at all. Then my thoughts changed to that of Eve and the forbidden fruit. Right, by looking through that camera, I fear that I’ve crossed a line and can never go back to normalcy. But perhaps I’m overthinking. I’ve always been the type of person to overthink things.

“Honey? Is something the matter?”

When I arrive back home, my mother immediately notices that something’s off.

“Oh, nothing…I was just out with friends and I’m a little tired now. It’s nothing to worry about.”

I guess I was making a strange face if my mother was showing concern. I just waive off her concerns and head to my bedroom. I’m probably just overwhelmed. That was my first (and possibly only) time I’ve ever physically handled a digital camera. Not only that, but I also got to view photos of regular people from the old world on it. Getting to experience such advanced technology in one afternoon would overwhelm anybody. My mind will go back to normal in a few days. I lie on my bed, unable to keep those pictures out of my head. Most disturbingly, I keep having thoughts about myself as a woman. About the weird question Elliot asked me before.

I got up to go get the camisole. I currently have it placed in a drawer on my desk. I know, I’ve been trying to avoid going back to it, but I just want to confirm one thing. I unbutton the long-sleeved shirt I’m currently wearing and take the camisole out and put it on. I then go to pick up a small hand mirror on my desk and examine myself with it.

I’ve never actually gotten a good look at myself wearing the camisole before. I hold the mirror at a good enough distance to see my whole upper body and…I don’t look as grotesque in the camisole as I always thought I did. It’s probably because I’m not very muscular, I shave my facial hair regularly, and the body hair I have is rather thin, so it’s not too noticeable for the most part. I’ve always been kind of effeminate looking throughout my life, which is probably another reason I used to be picked on as a child.

…Was I meant to be born a woman? If that’s the case, why was I born a man? The best that I can theorize is that the lord know that life has no meaning if there’s no struggle and well…this is the struggle the lord decided to give me. Given the existence of transgenders in other societies, I’m clearly not the only one with this type of struggle. Of course, in societies such as LOVE, they’re more visible due to how much LOVE feeds into their delusions. The attitude towards transgenders is more varied in the territories, mostly because there’s no access to the advanced sex change surgeries that LOVE has. The lack of being able to physically change their bodies makes their delusions far more obvious in the territories.

Right, I shouldn’t feed into any possible delusions about ‘becoming a woman’. I struggle with my masculinity and feel more comfortable around women. It’s because of that there’s this nagging part of my brain that thinks ‘I should’ve been born a woman’. But that’s nothing more than mere delusion. I’ve never experienced life as a woman, so there’s no way in hell that I could even know that I’m actually supposed to be a woman. I guess the next time I meet Elliot, I can talk more about this with him, but I’ll have to make it clear to him that I will refuse any sort of coddling or any ‘just accept yourself and become a woman’ nonsense.

I continued to meet with my friends over the week, and while we had fun, I couldn’t shake off the nagging feelings of those photos. The beautiful and happy Marisa with her family and friends. How the people in those photos lived lives completely different from mine and yet didn’t feel that strange or foreign despite that. How I wanted to learn more about the old world, and all the modern technology that’s banned in HOME. How I can’t tell my friends or family about these thoughts. I can’t even go to confession either, because priests are required by law to break the seal of confession if someone confesses to using modern technology.

Before I knew it, the week had gone by and I didn’t feel better. Sure, I got to bond with my friends for a bit but…that’s it. I don’t feel any better, and thanks to those photos I looked through, I feel even worse. The thoughts about me as a woman won’t go away. I even engaged in some thought experiments about it. During a bath one night, I decided to pretend that my naked body was a woman’s and not a man’s. That I had breasts and a vagina. And it actually worked…At least when I wasn’t looking down. I thought about the roles of men and women in society and how I don’t want to be a housewife, but it would be nice to have a woman’s body.

I ultimately didn’t bring things up to Elliot again. I put even more focus on school, my friends, family, and Gloria in order to distract myself from the thoughts. But whenever I was alone in my room at night, they would always come back. What if I’d been born a woman? Well, I’d be treated the same as my sisters and father would probably be pushing Isabella and me hard to find good husbands to help take over the farm. Right, I would no longer have the responsibility as being ‘the next man of the house’, and I wondered if maybe that was the source of all my anxiety. But then I went to go urinate and remembered the deep discomfort I always feel when looking at my genitals.

Despite the stress, autumn managed to pass by, and winter had arrived. Just because there are no crops to grow in winter doesn’t mean my family isn’t busy. Father, mother, and Isabella like to do odd jobs for other businesses nearby. When school was let out for Christmas break, father had me work on odd jobs as well because I’m at that age. They’re nothing too complicated, usually just helping out with cleaning, or helping sell items at stores.

Christmas is coming, and although the weather’s cold, the atmosphere feels warm. It’s a time for family and remembering what matters the most in the world. It’s said that Christmas in the modern world is nothing more than an abomination of crass commercialism. I think back to the photos I saw, specifically the Christmas ones. It’s true that Christmas stopped being a celebration of Christ in the modern world, and there’s a far bigger focus on ‘giving presents’ and yet…Marisa’s family did seem to exude a happy loving atmosphere in their Christmas photos.

I’m currently helping out Gloria’s family by working at their shoe store. Specifically, I’m helping with making shoes in the back of the store. It’s a somewhat tedious task, but it’s not too difficult and it can help me get on friendly terms with Gloria’s family. Gloria isn’t around a lot as she’s helping the church choir prepare for Christmas mass. This has given me some time to bond with her parents, to the point where they’ve even invited me to dinner a few times.

“You’ve been so wonderful to our daughter Marco.”

Her mother compliments me during one dinner.

“We were never able to bear more children beyond her, so it’s always been of the utmost importance to us that Gloria gets a husband that treats her well.”

Gloria’s father joins in on the conversation. Evidently her parents always struggled with fertility. Despite leading healthy lives and never drinking or smoking, Gloria’s parents had gone through five pregnancies with four of them leading to tragic miscarriages. Needless to say, Gloria being born was seen as a miracle by her parents. It honestly makes me feel bad that they like me so much. I think their daughter deserves someone who doesn’t fantasize about being a woman.

“She’s a kind girl; you’ve raised her well.”

Of course I’m not stupid enough to reject compliments. Even if I feel that her family is making a grave mistake by entrusting me to their daughter.

Throughout the month, things managed to continue to be peaceful (even with my troublesome thoughts and burdensome camisole habit).

But then Christmas Eve came…and my life changed forever.

Author’s Note: So yeah, I think it should obvious now, but this arc is the origin and backstory for the dead Marisa. And yes I’m going to be delving into issues and controversies related to transgenderism which will certainly be…something. I’ll just say that my opinions on the subject would piss off both sides of the debate and leave it at that. I was originally planning this arc to be much shorter, but it looks like that’s not the case. On the bright side, I can feel my writer’s block starting to clear away somewhat, and I’m hoping that I can start getting a more regular schedule with publishing chapters.

Winter is approaching. My family tends to struggle after the final harvest of the year. While we’ve never been impoverished, very rarely do we have enough money to tide us over the winter, so mother and father tend to do small jobs at other businesses during the winter to help with funds. Isabella’s now joined in with them and I’ll probably have to help out too now that I’m at that age. Father and I are travelling to the border for the monthly visit from PearlCoin. Father didn’t buy anything last time, which turned out to be a mistake as the fencing to our fields got broken and some deer were able to break in and steal a good portion of our crops. While we’ve been having a good harvest otherwise this season, this incident has obviously caused us to not earn as much as we could’ve. Not only do we need to buy new fencing, but father wants to buy some seeds for crops that grow quickly so he can at least get one last harvest in before winter.

I had trouble sleeping last night due to figuring out how I should explain things to Elliot. I know I can tell him about the wearing my sister’s camisole part, that’s easy. The real issue is finding a way to get him to understand that I have no interest in indulging in foreign cultures and I want to stop indulging in this deviant behavior. I liked Mr. C, but we would butt heads every now and then because he wanted to moralize about how ‘authoritarian’ he thinks my homeland is. People from the territories really don’t understand that most people aren’t interested in ‘freedom’ if it means being raped and murdered by a sick freak who will never get punished for it. Perhaps Elliot will be less pushy, I’ll have to wait and see.

We arrive at the border, park the horse carriage, and head to Elliot’s truck. He casually greets us and father heads into the truck. Elliot can immediately tell something up with me.

“You okay kid? You’ve got racoon eyes.”

I assume he’s referring to my lack of sleep.

“You could say I’m a bit stressed…”

I still haven’t figured out how to best explain things to Elliot, but I also know that I can’t stall for time either.

“…Look, I’m going to tell you something that’s probably not considered shameful in whatever perverse territory you came from. I don’t want you to comfort me or tell me that I’m fine the way I am, because that’s only true in your culture and I reject your culture. What I want is to be given the best advice on how to rid myself of my deviant ways.”

Elliot merely nods slightly before I continue.

“So, here’s the thing…”

I get close to Elliot and speak in a quiet tone of voice. Sure, father doesn’t know English, but I still don’t want anyone else to hear of what I’m going to confess to Elliot.

“…Several months ago, I stole my older sister’s camisole and…I like to wear it. I get no perverse gratification from it; it just relaxes me. …When I go for days without wearing it, I feel more on edge and stressed out than usual.”

There’s a brief moment of silence between the two of us, before Elliot speaks up.

“…I’ll be honest, I was expecting a bit more. But I suppose that is a strange problem…Have you considered getting rid of the camisole?”

“Yes, but I’d feel wrong about destroying one of my sister’s possessions.”

“Well, it’s a bit too late to care about that when you’ve already stolen it and are using it for your own personal stress relief.”

“I know. I’ve tried to go without wearing it, but then I just feel stressed and other people can notice.

Elliot puts his hand to his chin and thinks for a bit. I’m grateful that he’s not trying to push some ‘just accept your degenerate ways’ garbage that I was fearing he would.

“…Well clearly the issue is that there’s some underlying stress in your life that you haven’t been able to address and for some strange reason, that camisole is the thing that helps you out. So, if you’re desperate to stop this habit, it would be best for you to find something else that makes you feel relaxed.”

“Right, that makes sense.”

“You got any friends to hang out with? What about that girl from school that you see?”

“Yeah, I’ve got friends I hang out with. I’m not really close with any of them, but I’ll sometimes stay out late at night with them.”

“And the girl?”

“We walk each other home from school every day.”

“Are you happy being with that girl? I know you said you two will be married in the future. How do you feel whenever you think about getting married, having children, and becoming a family man?”

“…I would say that I feel nervous and discomfort.”

“That’s understandable. Being in a committed relationship and raising children is hard work. Me and my girlfriend haven’t had much time for ourselves ever since our kid was born. The first month was extremely stressful, but we’ve managed to find a groove overtime.”

“Sure, I get that, but it’s just…I feel like there’s more that bothers me.”

“Like what?”

That I always feel uncomfortable whenever I’m naked. That I prefer spending time with my sisters and Gloria over my male friends at school. That I wish I wasn’t the only boy in my family so I wouldn’t be forced to have the ‘future man of the house’ role forced upon me. It’s guaranteed that Elliot wouldn’t mock me for admitting these sorts of things, but…it still scares me. Even though I’d be saying it all in a language that my father doesn’t understand, I would still be confessing to feelings that I’ve never confessed to in confessions at church before. After what feels like a long pause, I manage to find a way to phrase my jumbled thoughts.

“…I…I feel like something’s wrong with me. Like the Lord made a mistake when creating me.”

“What do you mean?”

“…Even though I’m healthy and good looking, I hate my body, and I don’t know why. My least favorite moments in life are when I’m undressed. And again, there’s nothing wrong with my body, so this must be an issue in the mind.”

Elliot gives me a strange look. He doesn’t appear to be judging me negatively, but he could simply just be good at hiding his true feelings.

“…I understand if you don’t want to answer this but…What specifically about your naked body causes you distress?”

He asks the question with slight discomfort. Obviously, this is because the conversation has moved to that of a grown man talking to a teenage boy about said teenage boy’s naked body. The territories may not have laws, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have social taboos I suppose.

“…Hmm…”

I think about it for a bit. I know that I really dislike looking at my genitals, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me down there either.

“I think…I’m just repulsed by nudity is all.”

Elliot looks confused at my response.

“Well, that’s concerning. It’s one thing to not be sex crazy and more prudish but…your people still understand the need to procreate, how the hell are you gonna do that if you can’t stand the mere sight of your naked body?”

“Just because I may struggle with it doesn’t mean it’ll be impossible.”

“…It kind of is if your disgust with your body leads to you struggling with…’getting up and at it’ you know.”

Awkward euphemism aside, he does have a point there.

“Well, if I’m never capable of having children, then that’s just a further sign that the Lord made a mistake with me.”

It’s a pretty weak retort to be honest. If I ever said anything like that around Gloria, she’d be heartbroken.

“…Hey kid, I’m gonna ask you something weird, and feel free to tell me that I’m full of shit if this is the case but…Do you hate that you were born a man?”

What kind of nonsense question is that?

“Is that a serious question?”

I need to make sure that Elliot isn’t trying to pull a prank on me.

“I’m being serious. Again, I get it if you think I’m just spewing bullshit, but it’s just something that came to mind is all.”

There’s more that I want to say, but father comes out at this moment, ready to make his purchases. I’m obviously not a fan of dropping a conversation this abruptly, but I have no choice. Father makes his purchases with Elliot and then we make our way back home. During the ride back I think about Elliot’s strange question. I am aware that outside of HOME there are people known as transgenders who claim that their brain is that of the opposite sex. In the territories, all of these transgenders are grotesque looking cross dressers who are under the delusion that wearing a skirt and acting feminine automatically turns you into a woman.

But the transgenders in LOVE are a bit scarier. Not because they look even more disgusting, in fact it’s the opposite. LOVE has the technology to perform high quality sex changes, to the point where any genetic evidence of your birth sex is practically erased and you’re even still fertile. Not only that, but there are apparently many other strange surgical procedures that change the bodies in ways that give the vibe to most people here that surgeons and scientists of LOVE see themselves as superior to God. However, while these surgeries seem perfect for the people who want them, there’s a catch. They tend to be botched, leading to victims becoming completely sexless people. Discussing this risk is illegal in LOVE, and the people where I live view the surgeries going poorly as a sign from God that LOVE is an abomination.

I guess Elliot thinks I should start dressing up as a woman? That’s ridiculous. Yes, there are things about being a man that frustrate me, but that doesn’t mean I should throw my life away to play pretend in the territories or risk suffering from a botched surgery that destroys my body in LOVE. Well, I never got to hear the rest of Elliot’s thoughts, so maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, but I don’t know why else he would ask that question. That said, he does have a point, I do struggle with my masculinity. This has always been an issue for me since childhood. Even though I have managed to make male friends, I’ve never felt as close to them as I do with my sisters and mother. I should fix that.

I’ve decided to spend the week hanging out with my friends from school more. There are about four boys from school that I spend time with enough to consider my friends. Roberto, Paolo, Giovanni, and Francesco. Roberto’s fat and boisterous, Paolo’s tall and not very talkative, Giovanni’s blond and a tad strange, and Francesco’s hairy with an impulsive streak. Outside of basic appearance and personality differences, I don’t know much about my friends. I may have been able to make male friends, but it’s clear that I haven’t bonded deeply with any of them, and that’s probably what’s causing me issues.

Thus, I came up with a plan to bond more closely with my school friends over the week. I informed Gloria about my plans before school Monday morning, and she approved of them wholeheartedly. We would not be meeting each other for the week so I can spend more time with my school friends. Inviting them out isn’t hard, especially when Paolo and I share the same homeroom teacher.

“Paolo! Let’s do something with the others tonight!”

There’s no point in being shy, so I just walked straight over to Paolo’s desk and greeted him with the proposition. He’s unsurprisingly somewhat taken aback.

“…O-Oh, what brought this on Marco?”

His confusion makes sense, I haven’t really been talking with or going out with my friends at all for the past few months.

“I hadn’t been hanging out with you guys over the past few months, and I felt bad about it.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

I don’t want to beat around the bush. I want to bond with my friends and feel more comfortable about being a man. I’ve got a lot of ideas for things to do with my friends, but it’s only Monday, so I don’t need to suggest anything big.

“Let’s meet up at the coffee bar after school.”

I figure it’s best to start with something simple. I know I’m way to wound up for caffeine, but I can still get some snacks and just have some simple conversation with everyone there.

“A-Alright…”

Paolo’s always been a quiet kid, and I am acting uncharacteristically enthusiastic, so I don’t blame his awkward feelings.

“Are you sure the others will be free…?”

“I don’t see why not, and if they aren’t today, there’s always tomorrow.”

I want to talk more, but the homeroom teacher enters.

“Look, we can talk more after school, okay?”

I wave to the still confused Paolo and head to my desk. It may be yet another typical day at school, but for once I feel excited. Of course, this isn’t because the boring teachers have become any better at teaching lessons. If anything, I’d say they’ve become duller. But my excitement at improving my life is making me feel like I’m charged with electricity. God seems to approve of my plans, because it turns out that all my friends happen to be free today and they’re all interested in meeting at the bar.

By the time the final bell of the day rings, I practically jump out of my seat and speedily walk out of the building. The coffee bar isn’t a particularly sentimental place for me, but it’s close to school, rarely gets crowded, and the prices are reasonable for any youth whose source of income comes from their allowance. When I step into the bar, I don’t notice any of my friends. Of course, this is nothing to get upset about, I’m obviously the first one to arrive thanks to my newfound boundless energy. So I decide to get myself seated at the table right by the front window of the bar and order myself a budino and a glass of water.

I’m about halfway through my budino when my friends arrive. They surprisingly showed up at the same time together. Spotting me was no difficulty for my friends, and they had no interest in getting any drinks or food and just came to sit at my table. Roberto is of course the first one to speak up.

“So, what happened Marco? Why have you been acting so strange lately?”

It’s an obvious question, but the real answer is that I’ve always acted strange. Given that my goal is to bond with my friends more, I want to move the conversation from me as soon as possible.

“…I got a girl and that distracted me for a while. No more, no less. Now I’m learning to balance my relationships with my family, girl, and friends.”

Roberto gives me the kind of look that says he was expecting a confrontation. I don’t know exactly what he was expecting, but I have no interest in starting any fights.

“Uh well…That’s great…”

There’s an awkward silence, has my disappearance from the group really been that noticeable? Francesco ends up being the one to break the silence.

“I’ve been getting into Rugby lately. I’m pretty good at it, but I accidentally broke my mother’s vase, and she was pissed. She’s banned me from receiving allowance for five months! Can you believe that?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have play inside the house, idiot.”

Paolo gives an unsympathetic response to Francesco’s rugby story.

“Hey, it was raining that day! What else was I supposed to do?”

“Obviously you had other options than to play rugby indoors.”

This is a pretty typical interaction between Paolo and Francesco. Francesco’s impulsiveness and lack of second guessing tend to lead to him doing pretty stupid stuff. Then when he talks about it, Paolo gets so annoyed by Francesco’s dumb actions that it causes him to get chatty. Even though Paolo always seems irritated by him, the two do get along and I know Paolo frequently helps Francesco out with homework. They seem to have a strong relationship despite the animosity and insults Paolo sends Francesco’s way. Roberto seems far more relaxed now, to the point where he decides to ask me a completely inappropriate question.

“So, you’ve laid with Gloria, right? Can’t imagine why else she’d be taking up all your time.”

I can feel my face burning red. Unlike me, Roberto’s quite enthusiastic about any and all topics related to sexual activity. I feel like outsiders in the territories and LOVE have this false idea that just because HOME is filled with devout Christians who believe in waiting until marriage to lose your virginity, that there aren’t any sinful members among the populace. It’s not uncommon for boys and girls my age to ‘experiment’ with each other, with the idea being that as long as there’s no risk of pregnancy, it’s not homosexual in nature, and they go to confession afterwords, the lord will forgive their premarital acts. Furthermore, it’s quite common for my male peers to ‘touch themselves’ with the justification always being “I can just go to confession later”. If my peers are being honest about going to confession, I can’t say I envy the church fathers who have to listen to listen to their perverse fantasies in the least.

“…W-What!? Don’t just ask something like that out of the blue!”

I struggle to maintain my composure. Roberto sees no issue with lustful thoughts and the only thing keeping him from indulging in sexual sin with other girls is the fact that girls don’t like him. Honestly, Roberto could get himself a girl if he really wanted to, but that would require him to lose weight and learn how to talk to women properly. But Roberto struggles with gluttony and sloth along with lust, so I don’t see him getting a girl anytime soon.

“I’m just saying if I had a girl, she’d be pregnant and my wife by now.”

Well of course you would, because you always think with the head between your legs rather than the one on top.

“…I’m not you Roberto, so we haven’t done anything more beyond kissing and hand holding.”

I do my best to try and not freak out too much.

“I’m not a vulgar man driven by my lust. There’s more to life than acting liking an animal.”

I’ll be honest, I don’t necessarily care about admonishing my friend for his sinful desires, it’s just that the church and the rules of God are a great way to justify my personal discomfort with these topics and avoid outing my true feelings.

“Ehh, if I go to confession regularly, then I don’t see the problem with being a bit sinful. We’ll all be cleansed in purgatory anyways.”

This is a pretty common attitude among people here. Again, I find it funny how outsiders seem to believe that there are no sinners in HOME and that all sins are always severely punished with no exception. Maybe that’s the case in some states, but unless you’re an idiot and openly bragging about your sins to authority, not much will happen to you, especially if you go to confession afterwards.

“…But fine, I know you’re a weirdo who hates sex, so I’ll drop the subject. Look, let’s leave this place, I wanna show you something amazing.”

Roberto can be surprisingly respectful at times. I pay for my meal and we all leave the coffee bar.

Author’s Note: I think I finally realized my issue. I’m simply the kind of person who can’t get shit done if there’s no deadline. That’s it. I originally had a deadline for the writing group I was involved in when I started writing this, and now that I don’t…I’m lost. Well, I have personal deadlines that I’m keeping to with my AI bots and that is giving me more success, so perhaps that’s what I need. There’s a lot of other emotional bullshit going on in life (I’m a loser, I’m a failure, I can’t get a job and it’s all my fault), but that’s not really relevant here.

It turns out that meeting with Mr. C was my last one. Apparently, the governor of the state wanted to know the real names of the PearlCoin members coming to visit us, and after enough arguing with PearlCoin he was able to get the names. This caused an uproar in the state as it was revealed that several of the members who regularly came to visit us were Jewish, most notably an Avi Cohen. Some states of HOME are fine with members of other races visiting them. My state is not one of those states.

The people here may tolerate non-Italians who are still of European descent, but anyone who doesn’t fit the description of ‘European descent’ are forbidden from entering our state. The people here also tend to have a strong disdain for those of Jewish descent in particular. Jews are the ones who refuse to accept the Son of the Father, no matter how much God punishes them. Jews are the reason why Christians split away and infight with each other. Jews are the ones who forced usury, sexual degradation, and the destruction of basic morality and human decency the world. But most importantly, Jews are the ones responsible for the creation of LOVE. That’s what’s taught in my state at the very least.

“I can’t believe those PearlCoin bastards tricked us!”

Mother was the most furious out of us all. I didn’t really have any thoughts on the matter.

“I knew there was something suspicious about the potato prices! Don’t those cryptocurrency people understand that just because they come from lawless hellholes doesn’t mean that they can’t follow the laws of civilized societies!?”

After some furious discussion, the governor and PearlCoin came to an agreement. All PearlCoin members visiting the state will be required to have their genetic ethnic backgrounds and real names pre-approved by the governor before being allowed to enter the state. As soon as the controversy ended, everything went back to normal as if it had never happened in the first place. Another month passed by and it’s time for the next visit from PearlCoin. I’m curious to see whose replaced Mr. C. The closer that winter approaches, the more the landscape is covered with colorful fallen leaves. The weather’s getting cold too, and we’ve started bringing out the warming pans at night.

Arriving at the border and nothing seems to have changed too much. Makes sense, the only real changed that’s occurred is that certain PearlCoin members aren’t allowed to visit anymore. Father and I park the horse carriage as per usual and we head to the truck that used to be run by Mr C. The new figure standing by the truck is a man with long blonde hair and light green eyes. He’s tall, lean, and has a slightly effeminate face. He may not be Jewish, but he still doesn’t look like the kind of man who’d fit in around here. Or to put it more bluntly, he looks like a homosexual. Father seems to agree with me as looks uncomfortable approaching the man and whispers to me.

“…Tell me if he tries to touch you.”

I don’t respond but nod my head slightly and approach the man.

“Hello, I’m Marco and this is my father, Manuel. He doesn’t know English, so I’m here to speak for him.”

Father steps into the truck as I introduce myself.

“Well, you seem like a smart young man. I’m Elliot, it’s nice to meet you.”

Elliot reaches out for a handshake, but I don’t recuperate, and he pulls his hand back after a few awkward seconds of silence.

“So, what kind of farm do you guys run?”

Elliot doesn’t seem to be bothered by me refusing his handshake and still wants to engage in small talk. I figure it’s probably for the best to indulge in his desire. His voice is surprisingly deep considering his effeminate looks.

“It’s nothing special, just a small farm that was started by my grandfather. We also like to sell leftover fertilizer that we make from last season’s crops.”

“Wait, fertilizer isn’t just cow shit?”

“Nope, fertilizer can be made from any compost. We don’t really bother with cow manure because it’s expensive and the smell’s too much.”

I remember Mr. C asking me a similar question about fertilizer. It’s interesting how these PearlCoin members have access to more technology than us, yet don’t really understand the basics of farming. I know there are farms in the territories, but I guess none of the people from those farms join PearlCoin. Father is looking through the truck, browsing the items. It’s the middle of the season, so he most likely won’t buy too much if anything at all.

“Ah, well. That’s interesting. Forgive me for not knowing better.”

Elliot leans back against the truck and raises his arms behind his hand.

“Your father looked pretty uncomfortable with me…I get it. I’m not the kind of guy who’d fit in around here, but at least I’m not a Jew.”

He smirks playfully. Is he admitting to being a homosexual? He should be careful that others don’t overhear. I’m not the only person who knows English here.

“I’m pretty weird, but my girlfriend and baby are happy with me.”

…Girlfriend? …Baby?

“Surprised? I know having children out of wedlock’s illegal in your parts, but where I’m from only the devoutly religious bother with marriage, especially since there’s none of the legal bullshit involved with marriage in the old world. Honestly, I might as well just buy cheap shitty rings for ourselves and call my girlfriend my wife. We’re really not all that different from a married couple in the old world.”

Well, no, I’m shocked that you’re not a homosexual. I had heard about how common babies out of wedlock were in the territories and LOVE before.

“…Ah well, you seem happy.”

I’ll have to have children of my own someday. Most likely it’ll be with Gloria. But if I’m to continue my bloodline, I have to get used to the of sexual activity and my body…

“You got anyone special in your life kid?”

Elliot doesn’t notice anything wrong with me and keeps talking.

“Ah well, there’s a girl from school I’m seeing, and it’s looking likely we’ll be wed once school is finished.”

“Oh, you love her?”

“Well, I like and care about her, and that’s what’s important.”

People who aren’t raised in religious societies always go on about ‘marrying for love’ and other such nonsense. But relationships shouldn’t be viewed in such a childish manner. All that does is give people far too high expectations that cause them to live a life of loneliness. As long as you like the person and aren’t repulsed by them, it’s really not an issue if that person wasn’t your first choice for marriage or your ‘true love’, which is a concept that only exists in fairy tales.

“…Well, okay. If you’re fine with it.”

Elliot has the face of someone who wants to say more, but he probably wants to avoid an argument based off of cultural differences.

“It’s just…I can’t help but think about how miserable I’d be growing up here. You seem like a nice kid, and the other people I’ve met seem okay enough, but I know I’d never fit in here. Even though I’m not a LOVER. But the people here would see me as no different from a LOVER because I don’t agree with how HOME does things wouldn’t they?”

He’s not wrong. Although we may rely on the people from PearlCoin to sell us goods and protect us from LOVE, people around here still see the territories as a light form of LOVE. Some think that the territories are even worse than LOVE since there aren’t any laws or governance whatsoever.

“Well, it’s not like I agree with everything in my society. And there are things that I could never talk about to others about. But that’s life. I’m sure it’s the same for you. Just because the territories don’t have governments doesn’t mean they don’t have social norms.”

“Sure, I get what you’re saying, but I’m really not a religion kind of guy, and I like having access to modern technology. I also just don’t like the idea of government controlling me whatsoever.”

“Couldn’t it be argued that you cryptocurrency people are the ones controlling the territories since you all have the most power?”

“…I guess, but it’s not like we’re forcing people to share ideology with us. We only bother people when they don’t pay for the services we provide. I’d say it’s more like a business.”

Isn’t that what a government is? The government provides you with comfortable living and protection, and in return you follow the rules. I brought this up with Mr. C once before, and it only led to an argument, so I don’t feel like bringing up the argument again. Father soon comes out and he looks ready to leave. Sometimes we don’t buy anything during the monthly visits, although it isn’t common.

“Well, we’re going to be heading on our way.”

I give a goodbye to Elliot.

“Sure thing kid, and uh, if there’s anything you ever want to talk to me about, feel free to do so. I promise not to tell anyone else about it, especially if it’s one of those things you could never talk to others about.”

What an odd thing to offer. Is he trying to befriend me? That seems foolish. Father and I proceed to head home.

“So…How was the new guy?”

Father asks with concern in his voice. That’s right, he was worried about Elliot doing vile things to me. It wouldn’t surprise me if his suspicion of Elliot was a factor in him not buying anything today.

“He’s a bit strange, but I wouldn’t say he’s a bad guy.”

“Sure, but you said that about Mr. C as well…”

The two of us get into the horse carriage. I can’t help but feel bothered by his comment about Mr. C, but I know it’s best not to say anything. Me and father don’t talk much on the way back home, and my thoughts are focused on Elliot’s promise about having me talk to him about anything that I felt I couldn’t talk to others about. This is of course a chance for me to talk to someone who’s not a priest about the camisole, about the strange discomfort I feel in my own body, the mild unsatisfaction I feel whenever I think about my future. But is it really such a good idea? Being from a completely different culture most likely means that Elliot’s not going to look down on any of that, and he may even encourage my strange proclivities. But it’s obviously not good if he tries to encourage any deviant behavior in me.

The days seem to pass by swiftly, and my mind’s been feeling blank. I can’t seem to stay focused or really pay attention to anything. My grades aren’t falling, and my relationships aren’t faltering, but life just seems to be moving on. I believe Mr. C would’ve referred to my current state of being as ‘being on autopilot’ as a reference to auto-driving vehicles in more technologically advanced areas. It doesn’t help that outside of the freakout regarding Jewish members of PearlCoin visiting in the area, nothing interesting has been going on here. It doesn’t take too long for Gloria to notice my ‘autopilot’ behavior, and brings it up during a walk home from school.

“Marco? Is something bothering you? You’ve been acting strange for the past week.”

I don’t know how to respond to her. I’m just living life as I should after all, it’s just that life isn’t very interesting.

“…I’m fine. What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“It’s just…It seems like your soul’s not in you most of the time. You just seem to be existing. Sure, I’m not sensing any sadness or anger from you…But I’m not sensing any joy either.”

“I mean…Isn’t that just life most of the time? Not feeling any real emotion regardless of if it’s positive or negative?”

I messed up. Gloria’s face grows far more concerned after hearing my questions.

“What!? Of course not! Life is something to enjoy! It’s a gift the lord gave us, and to not be happy with the gift of life…Well that’s just a tragedy!”

Gloria gets close to me, the concern on her face being deep.

“…You don’t need to keep any secrets from me Marco. Please, if there’s anything on your mind, don’t be afraid to tell me!”

I can’t help but feel irritated. I get it, she’s my future wife, she means well and care abouts me. But I really doubt my lack of strong emotions is really much of a problem. But Gloria’s more of an innocent optimist. The type to think that the world could all be at peace if we just showed each other enough kindness. Someone like her doesn’t understand that just because someone’s not brimming with joy it doesn’t mean they’re miserable.

“…I…I get why you’re worried, but trust me, I’m fine.”

Gloria seems willing to drop the subject but it’s clear that she doesn’t believe me.

“O-Okay…”

The rest of the walk home was spent in awkward silence. When I arrived home, I immediately went to my room and locked the door. I searched through a drawer in my desk before finding the camisole (I have to move hiding spots for it every now or then or else I risk mother finding it while cleaning). And take my school shirt off in exchange for the camisole. I’ve been wearing the camisole more often lately. It gives me a sense of peace and comfort that I can’t really explain. But it seems to be getting bad. I’m going to get caught eventually if I keep this up, yet I can’t stop indulging in my habit. Ideally, I should burn the damn thing, but then I’d be burning one of Isabella’s possessions…But if I simply placed the camisole back in her room, I’d feel dirty seeing her wear it again.

 ‘…If there’s anything you ever want to talk to me about, feel free to do so. I promise not to tell anyone else about it, especially if it’s one of those things you could never talk to others about.’

Those words from Elliot spring into my mind. Should I bring this up to him? It’s not that I doubt his promise on spilling the beans to everyone else, it’s that the lawless degenerate culture of the territories means that he’ll say some crap about how I just need to learn to accept myself and how this isn’t a big deal. If I am going to bring this up to him, I need to make sure that he knows I don’t want my questionable behavior rewarded, I want to purge myself of it. I take the camisole off, put it back in the drawer, and put my shirt back on. This behavior needs to stop, and if Elliot proves to be useless, then I’ll just have to figure it out on my own.

I spent the next week forcing myself to not wear the camisole. I thought this was something I could easily do, but it turned out to be far more difficult. There were far more times than I could count where I had to stop as soon as I locked my bedroom door or picked up the camisole. I tried moving it to another place every time I was tempted, but that obviously didn’t work since I would know the new place it’d be hiding. While I did manage to avoid directly wearing the camisole, the temptation wasn’t going away, in fact, it got worse, as if I had a drug addiction. I found myself feeling more anxious and fidgety. God, is that camisole really that important to my mental state? What a joke.

“…Marco, I know you’re not fine. Talk to me.”

And of course Gloria was able to pick up on my stress during a walk home. I’d been struggling to sleep the previous night, and it must be showing on my face. There’s no way I could lie and tell her ‘No I’m actually fine’, because I’m not and it’s clear to anyone who sees me. I’m a disgusting pile of excrement who can’t function without wearing a camisole that I stole from my older sister at least once every few days. There’s no way I can confess this to Gloria.

“I…I guess you could say I’m feeling anxious about the future.”

Thankfully, I’m smart enough to avoid speaking the truth without lying. It is true, I am somewhat anxious about the future, but isn’t that the case for most people? Gloria squeezes my right hand tightly.

“Oh no, has the harvest this season not been good?”

“N-No, we’re doing great actually. We’ll have plenty of extra money to hold us over during winter. It’s just…Well, I get nervous thinking about the future.”

Again, not a lie. And this causes Gloria to stop walking.

“…Marco, look at me.”

I turn to face her way, and Gloria puts her hands on my face, staring directly into my eyes.

“I know that we’ll be adults very soon, and that we’ll have new responsibilities hoisted upon us once we’re finished with school. And that’s terrifying. But that’s why we have our families, our friends, the church, and each other. No one can live in this world alone. People need other people to survive in this world. There’s nothing more tragic than a human being who spends their whole life in isolation.”

Gloria leans in to give me a warm embrace.

“You’re not alone Marco. I know the future is scary, but I’ll always be there to support you no matter what.”

I can hear how genuine Gloria is with her words, and I truly believe that she earnestly cares about my wellbeing…But I also know that it’s far too risky to admit what I’m anxious about.

“…Thank you, Gloria.”

I hug her tightly in response. It was at this moment I realized that perhaps I should talk to Elliot about my problem. Even though I know he’ll try to convince me that there’s nothing wrong with what I’m doing and that my perversion isn’t destroying my life, I also need to at least open up to an outsider about this.

Author’s Note: Yeah, my struggles aren’t improving much are they? Is there any point to me continuing to write this dumb story? I’m getting far more success with working on AI bots and I just feel frustrated and annoyed when I come back to LOVE. I originally started the story due to some writing group I joined that’s pretty much dead and people rarely if ever post on these days. I doubt anyone who visits this website even enjoys reading it and just wants to check out posts related to my AI bot work. I dunno, I guess I won’t completely give up on this story, but I also have to realize what gets me anything resembling success on the internet.