Warnings: description of dysphoria
Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22336981
Tired Of This Body
Ouma walks into class with his nails painted, one day.
Kaito is left awkwardly staring at him for longer than he’d like- longer than usual, at least. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d spent too long glaring at the other boy, but normally it’s after he does something purposefully annoying to incite Kaito.
“Aww, what’s wrong, Momota-chan?” Kokichi croons, his voice just a tad bit curious, “Am I really so pretty that you can’t look away?” As he talks, he gestures vaguely with his hands, and Kaito can see the rainbow spread out across his nails.
Kaito clears his throat.
“Nothin’s fuckin wrong,” he mutters, “Just-”
Kaito remembers how his grandmother had once caught him surrounded by her makeup in the bathroom, smearing purple eyeshadow all over his lids, trying to apply eyeliner with shaky, imprecise hands.
He remembers how she had screamed at him afterwards, how she had told him that he was responsible for being the man of the house, now that his father was dead-
Kaito clears his throat once more, looking away with guilt clear in his eyes. “Nothing’s fucking wrong,” he repeats, his voice firm, confident- manly.
--
Shinguuji tells him that they think he’d look nice with his ears pierced, one day.
Kaito stammers, mouth opening and shutting wordlessly for a moment. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea,” he finally admits, “Just wouldn’t go with my look, y’know?”
“Oh?” Shinguuji replies, head tilting just slightly to the side, their long hair shifting across their shoulders and catching the light like a snake’s scales, “I think you would look quite fitting with some galaxy-themed earrings; stars, or whole constellations, perhaps.”
Kaito immediately shakes his head. “Nah, that’s just not- just not somethin I think I’d look right in.” He nervously pulls at one of his earlobes, looking down and away. Orion is one of his favorite constellations, and for just a moment, he wonders if he could find earrings in the shape of it-
“Sorry,” he says quickly, “But no. Definitely not.”
He doesn’t quite know what he’s apologizing for. Maybe it’s just because he’s not the type that likes discouraging other people’s ideas.
Or maybe, it’s for the word he had called Shinguuji at the beginning of the year, before he’d quite realized the gravity of it. Maybe it’s for the fact that he still doesn’t know how to look at Shinguuji right, how to refer to them, how to forget the sound of that word coming out of his grandparent’s mouths.
How to not flinch in fear when the anthropologist mentions once that they wear lipstick.
--
Gender is a tricky thing, Kaito quickly realizes.
Hope’s Peak is different than where he grew up- people talk about themselves, here. People talk about futures that don’t involve a husband and a wife and 2.5 kids.
Ouma talks proudly about being gay, about being gender non-conforming. Shinguuji had asked them all halfway through the year to refer to them using they/them pronouns, something Kaito hadn’t even realized was possible. Miu is trans, something she’s not at all ashamed of, exclaiming that she wants as many people as possible to look at her tits considering how much she’d paid for them. Shuichi, meanwhile, is trans but prefers to keep it quiet, only mentions it when Kaito works him a little too hard during training and his binder makes breathing difficult.
Gender is a tricky thing, Kaito thinks, as he stands in front of his mirror and gels his hair up and grins wide as he makes himself into someone recognizable, someone his grandparents are proud of.
He sprays on cologne even though he doesn’t quite like the scent of it, doesn’t shave off his goatee even though it has a tendency to itch, because it accentuates his jawline, makes him look older.
Gender is-
Kaito doesn’t know. He is a man, he thinks. He wants to be a husband with a wife and 2.5 kids one day, he thinks.
He wants his grandparents to be proud of him, he knows.
So he keeps his cologne, his facial hair, doesn’t touch the nail polish Shuichi brings out during a boys’ sleepover, rejects the eyeliner Amami offers him while they’re getting ready one day.
He knows who he is.
Or at the very least, he knows who he’s supposed to be.
--
There comes a point where he can’t quite deny it anymore.
There comes a point when he looks at himself, and his gelled up hair, and his clean white button-down, and he is no longer in his own body. His grandparents call and he talks to them about how happy he is at school, how well he’s fitting in, and yeah, of course there’s a girl he’s got his eye on, yeah, yeah, he’ll ask her out when he gets a chance.
Kaito takes a shower hot enough to turn his skin raw, hot enough that he’s able to feel something, and he throws on the loosest T-shirt he owns, pulls his hair into a low ponytail at the base of his neck, goes for a run around the school until it gets dark enough out that he can’t see himself in the mirror when he gets back to his room.
His chest heaves for breath and he pretends it’s just from the exercise. There is sweat running down his face and maybe something else too, something he won’t admit to as he rubs at his eyes, as he scratches at his arms and imagines them as belonging to someone else, someone that knows what to do with them.
He sleeps with his knees pressed to his chest that night. Thinks about waking up and stepping out of his body as if it were a cocoon, something temporary, something he could abandon and be celebrated for.
How wonders how they all do it- Ouma, and Shinguuji, and Miu, and Shuichi- wonders how they know who they are. Wonders, if at any point, they didn’t, wonders if they had to find out, how long it took.
He wonders how long it will take until he knows.
--
“You know,” Ouma drawls, rolling over onto his stomach to stare directly at Kaito, “You don’t have to try so hard.”
Kaito blinks at him. “What?”
Ouma just scrunches up his nose. “You wear too much cologne.”
Kaito just scoffs, chooses to take that as an insult. “Yeah? Well, if we’re doin critiques, you’re not nearly cute enough to be this damn annoying.”
“Oh? Do you think I’m cute, Kaito?” Ouma laughs, a bright, delighted noise as he flutters his eyelashes and props his chin up in his hands.
“Wha- how is that what you took out of what I just said-”
“And you know what else?” Ouma says, speaking right over Kaito to continue making whatever point it is he wants to make, “I think you could stand to use a little less concrete in your hair, too.”
Kaito stammers, and Ouma takes advantage of his indignation to reach forward and run his hands through Kaito’s hair, scruffing it up and ruining the style in the process.
Kaito tackles him, and Ouma laughs and scrambles away, and Kaito laughs just a little bit, more than he’d ever admit to.
Later, he ties his hair into a ponytail once more instead of bothering to fix it.
--
“How’d you know?” Kaito asks idly, kicking his legs back and forth off the roof’s edge, gazing out at the wide spread of stars in front of them, “About the whole- gender thing, I mean.”
“Ah,” Shinguuji answers, looking contemplative for a moment, “That is… a bit of a difficult question, for me. But it doesn’t have to be.”
Kaito turns to look at them, brows furrowed. “Huh? Whaddya mean?”
Their eyes drift shut, their voice beginning to go light and reedy as they speak. “... Gender, as a concept, has differed greatly across cultures. What many believe to be true right now- the fact that there are only two genders, male and female- is both wrong biologically and socially. As a scientist, you probably know that hormones and sex characteristics, as well as chromosomes themselves, can get complicated. The same can be said about the different genders associated with different cultures, subcultures, and religions, along with the pronouns that are associated with each-”
They clear their throat, their hands falling back down into their lap from where they’d grabbed onto their own shoulders in some facsimile of a hug. “Ah, but I am rambling,” Shinguuji says, “My point is- gender can be complex, and highly varied, on a larger scale. But on a personal scale, you should do what feels right for you; I feel best when people use they/them pronouns for me, and I prefer to dress femininely. It is as simple as that.”
Kaito nods slowly, just taking that in for a moment. “Right. So you… realized you didn’t feel comfortable with how people referred to you before, and you just changed things up?”
Shinguuji laughs a little, their expression almost soft despite the sharpness of their cheekbones. “I suppose… yes, that is one way to put it. If you don’t mind me asking… Why are you asking, Momota-kun?”
Kaito shakes his head. “I’m just new to this, is all. I’ve been… thinkin about it.”
And he does, indeed, proceed to spend the next few weeks thinking about it.
--
And then, one day, everything clicks into place.
“Hey, hey, Momota-chan, let me do your make-up!” Kokichi exclaims, a pilferred tube of eyeliner and some lipstick clutched tightly in his hands.
“No fuckin way am I lettin you touch my face,” Kaito scoffs, “You’d probably just end up writin some shit.”
“Ah- may I, then? I think I may have a bit more experience than Ouma-kun,” Shinguuji says, their eyes curious, tone careful.
Kaito considers that for a moment, two. Finds he’s not as opposed to it as he thinks he should be.
“Fine, but-”
“But I get to do his nails!”
And that’s how Kaito winds up with Shinguuji less than an inch from his face, gently holding him still as they trace across his eyelids, Ouma’s touch just as light as he holds Kaito’s hand in his.
“Hey,” Kaito murmurs, careful to keep his mouth from moving too much so as not to mess up Shinguuji’s work, “I think I’m… y’know.”
“Gay?” Kokichi chimes in.
“Um-” Kaito stammers, and Shinguuji leans back for just a second to allow him time to compose himself before they continue moving, “I- maybe. I meant though, the whole gender thing, I think I’m… neutral on it? Or, like, I just don’t… when it comes to masculinity, I’m-”
“You don’t have to try so hard, Momota-chan,” Kokichi interrupts, his small fingers rubbing soothingly across Kaito’s knuckles.
“Indeed- like I said, it’s more simple than you’re making it out to be. We can look into labels later, yes? Thank you for trusting us with this.” Shinguuji caps the eyeliner, takes only a moment more to clean up the edges of it with their finger.
Kaito’s brows furrow, and he has to look away, mouth growing dry at their support. “I… thanks. For- for helpin me with this shit.” He slowly meets both of their gazes, a faint smile on his face as the shame slowly dissolves away from under his skin.
“And, hey,” he murmurs, “I got somethin else to say.” They both raise an eyebrow at him, looking curious. “... I think I wanna kiss you two.”
And that, too, goes better than Kaito could’ve ever hoped.
Besides the nail polish and lipstick that end up smeared all over his skin, of course.
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