Chapter 1: Won't You Make Us Proud?
Sometimes, there are words in life you itch to hear- words that the very phantom of their utterance causes your skin to buzz and your blood to dance. They're the type of words which make us mute, ghost-like people feel- even if it is only for a brief moment- completely and utterly real. For me, those words could be counted on one hand- and perhaps if I worked hard enough- maybe they would total as six. You see, I never was particularly fond of "I love you"s- they felt too easy and shallow. Nor did my heart hammer at simple compliments like "you're so pretty" or "how can you be so perfect?". Perhaps it's the human condition to crave that which you haven't had before- and for that reason, all I ever wanted to hear growing up was a simple, simple phrase.
"I'm so proud of you, Aisha."
For 20 years and 96 days, I had made myself worthy of those words.
In my head, I practiced how I would respond when my ears laid grace to those words. Just thinking about it made my muted heart flutter and incited my dead bones to hum to life. In the mirror, when no one was around to see it, I perfected a dazzling 'victory' smile that I would only ever show on that day. Looking back, I idiotically placed all my idyllic musings on thin, black suited letters. And why was that?
Was it because I knew, perhaps deep down, that everything about myself was an illusion? Was it because in my heart's of heart, I wanted to exist without the cage of expectation- no, that I wanted to feel accepted even with my faults?
Even just thinking about it caused my head to grow heavy and my focus to grow hazed by unorganized thoughts. Looking to the curio in the corner of my office, my tired eyes traced over the countless metals and trophies from my high school and college days, and in their image my mind reminisced of the academic awards which my father helped me hang on my walls and the countless textbooks I used to read so religiously. Was it because I was usually so busy that I didn't notice this emptiness which now threatens to consume me entirely?
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I knew that it was the opposite. I was only ever so busy because I so desperately wanted to escape that feeling- that dark, frigid ache which hunts me like a wild beast no matter where I go. Volunteering during the weekends; hidden among the faces of friends and families in the thousands of team pictures I was in- wasn't that feeling always there? And so, even though it was draining, I also felt as though I was becoming the best version of myself I could be, because the more I worked the less I had to feel. I didn't exist fully yet- but I was getting closer and closer. Hard working, diligent- I loved those words too. With those words draped around me like delicate lace, I was wrapped in a world of self-made reassurance. I was proud of myself to an extent; after all, who wouldn't be when their successful father parades them around as 'the best' and 'most talented' person he knows?
'Hard working', 'talented', 'diligent', 'focused', 'best'...
No- perhaps those words didn't matter at all.
All I really cared about was that he talked about me to his friends and coworkers. Somehow, it made me feel as if I existed outside of that dark, heavy feeling. Being 'the best' didn't mean nearly as much as it did to be a boasted and cherished daughter.
So, after years of imagining and picturing what this moment would be like, I thought I would be overflowing with stomach-floating satisfaction and cheek-warming joy. Especially since it had taken him 20 years- 20 years and 96 days- to say those words, though simple they may be. Ironically, I never once was angry at him for not saying them, even though when I was younger I so desperately wished he did. I always assumed that he just wanted me to get even better, or that he knew I hadn't yet reached my fullest potential. Graduating high school early? That's just something a Yanaka does. Acceptance into one of the best universities in the capital of the country? Impressive, but it's only the beginning, right? Acquiring an internship at a high-priority firm despite being so young? Amazing- what are you going to do next? For me, there wasn't an hour to my life which I dared to waste. I often imagined hearing those words at my graduation, or when my mother or father would treat me to a celebratory meal due to another time-consuming accomplishment.
Yet, they never came. Not even when I landed a high paying job at said chemical firm did I hear those words. And, having accomplished all those feats without showing any characteristics of manifesting a secondary gender despite being well passed the age of puberty, it only seemed to make my work all the more jaw-dropping. I felt that even without receiving the praise of those it mattered, like my family, my work provided my life with direction and fulfillment.
So, why is it now that it feels like everything has come crashing down?
"I'm so proud of you, Aisha."
Why.... Why?
Waking up in the stiff hospital bed, the paper sitting on my lap was a bomb which would soon destroy everything I had built in this life. To my side, Father sat in a hospital chair, his hand tenderly cupping mine as I read the letter over and over- the blood retreating from my face. My tongue felt dry and hollow as I suddenly had the sensation as if I were in a desert all these years instead of a developed city. And now, after begging for just one drop of water, being provided a full glass so callously made me want to throw up.
"I knew you were exceptional- after all, how could my daughter be anything else, right?"
The hand over mine suddenly felt like it was a vine coiling against my skin- the heat from his palm melting my flesh. The smile on his face was so tender and gentle- perhaps the most emotional expression he had ever shown me in my entire life.
Where was my victory smile now?
"You always made it look effortless."
My left hand rose to my head as chaos imploded upon my brow- confliction thrashing against my insides. The strange incongruency of hearing such words made me want to scream. Effortless- my mind repeated. When did it ever look effortless? All the hours of studying? The cram schooling- the reading, the tutoring-
"That's to be expected of an Alpha, of course."
Suddenly, the dark haze of my mind cleared as a wet chill pricked at the back of my neck.
Alpha: the leaders and 'doer's of society which get to enjoy the pleasures of dominance and excellence. Looking to Father- an alpha himself- I wanted it to be a good thing. I wanted it to be something I could brew the acceptance I always craved out of, but intrinsically the gaping pit in my stomach told me that I couldn't. After years of chasing visions of who I wanted to be, of believing I was a beta; now that I had finally been given the results- I completely despised it.
"Father," I clenched my jaw once before taking a deep, slow inhale, trying to steady myself against the torrent of emotions which where chipping away at my composition with each second. "Can you step out and find a doctor for me? I feel like I'm going to be sick."
"Of course Aisha, I'll be back in a minute." Giving me a quick peck on the forehead, I was grateful that he turned away to open the door because tears already started to pool in my eyes. My nails raked into my arms as if to check if this was really reality and not some nightmare- a feeling of self disgust so palpable I had to cover my mouth and take deep breaths to keep myself from throwing up. Bringing my knees to my chest, my limbs felt stiff as I wrapped my arms around my legs, shielding my eyes from the vision of the hospital room by seeking haven in my own ignorance.
Was it also my first time ever feeling such strong and hideous emotions? It felt odd- no, surreal- to be sitting here with this body; the body that I felt had betrayed my grand vision. A sharp gasp escaped my clenched teeth as an unfamiliar urge to punish this body flashed against my mind's eye- a fluttering craving for destruction settling in my hands.
At that thought, my emotions snuffed themselves out in muted horror- I had only woken up after passing out at work for a few minutes, but I already felt a spry resentment rearing- and following it, was a debilitating guilt.
Out of all the feelings simmering in my chest, the worst was the fear of knowing that, as soon as I get back to my office, my work will cease to be mine. Even as a child, I had never particularly admired alphas like my peers. Anyone could be born an alpha, but genuine success? It relied so much more on the internal value of a person's determination, of their dreams and goals.
Balling my hands into firsts, I knew what was coming because I had witnessed it thousands of times.
The click of the door opening brought me back to the present as a nurse walked in with a tray and box of pills.
"Hello Miss. Yanaka, how are you feeling?" Quickly wiping my eyes, my gaze had fallen back to the paper which had drifted down to the floor, and bitterly, a brash wish slipped through my teeth before I could even register what I was saying.
"There's no way you can make me back into a beta, right?"
"That bad? It's quite early in the morning for such jokes." The nurse's laugh caused me to mute myself, a harsh, fake laugh following theirs as if I actually was joking.
"No... I just feel really hot and clammy- a bit nauseated too."
Setting the tray on my lap, the nurse checked my temperature before walking over to the small dial thermostat.
"That's common for first ruts, especially since you're such a late bloomer. You can experience heat flashes so I'd recommend keeping the temperature down. Expect to undergo mood swings the first time until your hormones level out, and then it'll proceed like normal. "
At my lack of response, the nurse continued.
"The pills on the tray are for making the rut more manageable, and there should be an informational packet beneath it explaining how to control your pheromones and the like. As a female alpha, things won't be the exact same since most alphas are men, but I've heard the differences are negligible."
Walking back to the door, the nurse turned to me once more.
"I'll let your father in, but you should settle for a few hours and take your medicine so you can leave around lunch time. Oh and, congratulations on manifesting your second gender!"
Luckily, I didn't need to respond before my Father rushed back in with a bottle of juice from a vending machine for me to take my medication with. It was safe to say I was in shock- one minute, I was simply staring at my computer screen drinking coffee, and the next I was in a hospital bed being told I had manifested my second gender 8 years late.
Holding the bottle of juice meekly, my mind found solace as it usually did by busying myself with easier worries like my work. Thinking about the meetings I would miss; the issues which would arise from my lack of leadership like project proposals- anything other than this. The motion of my Father bending down to pick up the paper from the floor ended my daydream as he smiled at the paper once more, flattening out its creases.
"Can I have this?"
For a moment, I had thought I had imagined him saying that- only because it wound a tight knot in my stomach.
"What?" But upon seeing the expression on his face, something in my chest snapped dully- my tired sigh breaking his question as he said it once again.
"Sure. Sure, Dad." At my response, he chuckled softly before sitting back down beside my bed, the paper safely tucked into the inside of his suit jacket.
"I can definitely tell you are hormonal right now. You're a little out of it, huh Aisha?"
Somehow, his carefree demeanor as he said that only made me feel worse. With his words, new doubts and fears sprang to life without a moment's warning- my eyes stinging once more in frustration. Are all these feelings only because I'm so overwhelmed? Because of my hormones?
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I found a bag of some of my old clothes from his house waiting for me on the ground- the thin material of the hospital gown uncomfortable. Catching my gaze, he got up to leave the room before pausing once more- his mouth opening and closing silently.
"Aisha," He started. "Do you want to get lunch with me? My treat."
Were it any other occasion- the promise of free food was always a welcomed excursion- but this time, it was my turn to hesitate.
"I actually don't feel all that well. I just want to pick up my car from work before turning in early."
If wasn't exactly a lie- I did want to get my car- but, even though he said I seemed hormonal, I didn't feel all that different. And, though normally I enjoyed being in his company, I knew I would only be making myself feel worse today by staying close to him.
Giving an understanding nod; after I had changed back into my clothes, we proceeded to check out of the hospital before riding together in his car to my work, the entire ride silent. As we pulled to a stop in front of my building, he leaned up onto the dashboard to pass me my new medication and belongings.
"I meant what I said you know- call me when you want to have a nice dinner."
Without realizing it, I had been holding my breath as he spoke, the lump in my throat squirming uncomfortably as a harsh swallow kept my face blank and my emotions hidden away. Forcing a smile, I gave him a one armed hug over the center console before stepping out of the car.
"I will. Thank you for taking care of me."
"Of course sweet heart!" As if on que to the break in our conversation, his mobile work phone rang, his eyes semi-apologetic before he answered with a tone so cheerful it gave me whiplash. With a casual wave, I watched as he drove away, the belongings in my arms feeling as if they were made of glass.
Though we had interacted as if it were natural, to be honest, I think it was the most he had ever paid attention to me in a single day- in all my days, months, and years on Earth. The confused muddle of emotions within me only continued to complexify, so instead of thinking, I took out my access card and entered the building with the same relief and devotion as if I were a priest entering a church.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
jcrownlit
jcrownlit Thanks for reading this story! I wanted to try out more common tropes while still making them new and interesting.
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