Silaqui and I became a loose pair after that moment. She was loving and kind, gentle and patient, and funny as hell. Surprisingly, I was able to be charismatic in return, finally able to express myself with the body and gender that I truly needed. Sometimes, I was the stoic, cool one, planning dates and leading her by the hand. Other times, I was the shy, soft one, being held during the movie or comforted after an overwhelming day. But they were all me, and I no longer felt afraid to express myself, all because of her. We kept our relationship as pure romance; I did not have the parts or desire for anything more, and she respected my wishes. She had other partners, both romantic and sexual, and I felt conflicted about it: one one hand, I felt comfort and relief that she felt confident and free enough to feel love wherever she could; on the other, I thought of my parents and their eternal connection, and wondered if that was ever in the cards for me.

  Regardless, the weeks passed by, and I decided to lay low, as to not draw too much heat to myself. I delegated myself to stopping simpler crimes, ones that weren’t so heavy or involved, while trying to keep myself level-headed and make sure everything was without needless death. A few of the crimes I stopped were being committed by Othersiders; against those opponents, I did end up having to give my all, but still found the combat to be fairly easy. I thought of the Siphoner, and how I had to lay my life on the line to kill them. Now, against a Dullahan of comparable power, I was able to subdue and restrain them without sustaining major injuries. Maybe I was getting stronger, or at least more used to my new form?

  School went by peacefully; I was able to finish assigned homework before I even left campus due to my heightened brain activity, freeing up my outside life considerably. Unfortunately for me, my place of work had let me go, and so my usual time drain was now gone. Silaqui offered me a job at the Apothecary, but the idea of her being my savior, romantic partner, and boss sounded overwhelming, and so I politely turned her down. Unable to use my previous employment in my resume, and looking the way I look, I struggled immensely to find work, and ended up using the last of my grandfather’s money to pay the last month of my rent. Realizing that a home might not be in the cards for me right now, I started selling everything I owned except for essentials, and before the next month’s rent was due, I was gone. Silaqui offered to let me rest at her place whenever I needed to, and I agreed, but with my newfound immunity to sleepiness, I reckoned I wouldn’t need it often. Luckily the school let me go into excruciating debt instead of costing me money to go to their school, and so I was able to continue college, which would now be my new resting place during the day. Every other time would now be spent working as Silaqui’s Champion.

  I listened to the news as the Lonely Hearts Club began to dismantle slowly; according to sources, a high-ranking gang member had flipped and was giving up their bosses. My joy at the news was replaced with horror as I found out the informant had been assassinated in protective custody two months later. February Winter had given way to April Spring, and the cherry blossoms at school had bloomed. I was sitting in the library, reading “The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms” by N.K. Jemisin, when my earbuds whispered the news to me. I felt myself seethe for only a moment before coming back down, trying to be collected in this crowded area. I thought that she would be safe with the police. I put the book back in its right place, and started making my way outside when I saw Kall reading a book by themselves, their black hair hiding their mask-covered face. The book in their hand was “No Longer Human” by Osamu Dazai, a book I hadn’t read in a long time. I stopped for a moment, considering whether or not they would want my company, before I found myself walking over anyways.

  “Hey Kall,” I whispered, sitting on the bench beside them. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, and you can tell me to go away if I am, but I saw you reading something really interesting, and I wanted to see what you thought.” I realized why I was sitting here now, trying to converse with them; I wanted connection, in this moment where I was feeling destructive. I was learning from my mistakes.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Oh, hey Avery. Yeah, I don’t know how I feel about it,” they said, turning their head the other way.

  “Oh? Why is that?”

  “The main character is so forlorn and depressed… I don’t like seeing him suffer so much. I want to know what happens next, but I feel like every page just makes me feel worse for him.” They seemed so sincere in their empathy, in a way that I never realized when reading the book myself.

  When I first read the book, it was during a time when I felt as if death might be better than whatever life had to offer; I had lost my mother, and was being bullied in a strange land with no friends. As I read the novel, it pulled me deep into Oba Yozo’s suffering, for it was my suffering too. I thought I might drown in the abyss that those pages presented, and I wanted to drown there too. But as the epilogue reveals how the world viewed Oba Yozo, I felt a pang in my heart, something that made me feel a deep longing. I wanted people to love me, to miss me if I were gone, and the only people who would either died or were left behind in America. I was alone in this world, and there would be no epilogue. Meeting Aera was a revelation, cold and sweet like a poisoned apple, and reading it after that, I never felt much. But ever since I got my feelings back, since Silaqui gave me my heart back, the sorrow of the book and the hope that love and memory would find their way to me have found their way back into my heart.

  I felt a single tear fall from my face. “Sorry, I don’t know why, but… Your empathy was beautiful to me.” I smiled at them sweetly.

  Without turning towards me, they said, “oh, um… Thanks, Avery. Uh… Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just felt something I hadn’t in a long time. That book is really special. I hope you stick with it to the end, but I understand if you don’t want to.”

  “Well, with that kind of reaction, I guess I have to keep going.” I could hear the smile in their voice, and it carried a warmth with it. “What are you up to now, Avery? Were you studying for tests?”

  “Nah, I’m already prepared for those. I just wanted to read in some quiet before I went out again.”

  “Oh, are you going to work? I went back to the cafe after visiting you that one time, and I didn’t see you there.”

  “Are you stalking me?” I asked jokingly, before answering. “Nah, I got let go. They couldn’t handle the new me, so they were itching for a reason to fire me. Finding a job looking the way we do is difficult, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” they responded, “it took me forever to find mine.”

  “Where do you work?” I asked, with a hint of hope that there may be room for me.

  “I work in data entry for Quill and Ink, you know, that huge tech and distribution company. They always seem to be hiring, and don’t seem terribly picky when it comes to Othersiders or personal appearance, even though it’s run by a human. Maybe you could try there?”

  Quill and Ink would hire someone like me? I didn’t want to do factory work, in a place where the work is monotonous and the obligations are long; but data entry, something in an office, might be just what I need.

  “Thanks for the info,” I responded, “I’ll definitely try to look into them.” I stood up from my seat, straightening my sweater dress. “I’ll be heading off now. Thank you so much for talking with me. Hope you enjoy your book.”

  “You can talk to me anytime Avery. I’ll let you know when I finish it.”

  No Longer Human has informed me in so many ways. I remember the first time I read the book, during my first trip inpatient psychiatric. They had a book cart, and most of the books on the shelf had soppy titles like "How to Help Yourself," or something like that. Things that made me disinterested immediately. But the title of the book stood out to me, and when I looked at the cover, it was a neon pink with a silhouette, alien and strange, but humanoid. I read the whole thing while listening to a jazz radio station quietly in my room, only stopping to attend meetings and meet with visitors. It changed my perspective of myself, and of the disease I was dealing with, in such a monumental way that it forever became my favorite novel.