Part 2

She was still on my mind though as I made my way back to campus housing. While there weren’t many dormitories, especially with the limited enrollment on campus, a number of regular houses around were owned by the college and used as rented housing. The house I rented with three other roommates was smaller than my uncle’s house where I’d been living before but it was still plenty of room for me.

I didn’t need to use my key because the front door was already unlocked. After tossing my stuff on my bed, I found Allison in the living room, sprawled out on the long couch against the wall, sleepily rubbing at his twitching nose.

When we first met over a year and a half ago when I moved in, I thought for sure he was the younger sister of the roommate I was expecting. Flawless, soft skin. Airy, brown eyebrows. Thick, rippling brunette hair which flowed past his shoulder. A white t-shirt with a fringe of watercolor tulips which gave a questionable swell at his chest. Bracelets of every color lined up on his right arm. A glittering necklace. Snug-fit denim pants with pale, pink hearts like cake icing at the cuffs.

I would be lying if I didn’t admit that he looked adorable and triggered a confused sense of arousal in me when we first met. I even once admitted this reaction to Allison, who was quite delighted to hear it and gave me his breathiest imitation of a girl’s voice through his normal, crackly one.

After stretching, I settled onto one end of the long couch, leaving Allison plenty of space where he was cozy. One of his golden-flecked, green eyes flicked open and focused on me. I waved once and said, “Hey, Ally.”

Crawling cat-like, he made his way next to me and laid his head against my side before he muttered a sleepy, “Hi, Sean. Good first day? Gonna be an anime girl soon?”

I leaned back a little with a sigh and offered, “Fair. I saw Lissa. Just one class with her this time. And not for a few weeks. I actually…literally…ran into an anime girl at the Fairplace shopping center.”

Both of Allison’s eyes popped open and he dug for more information. I described the anime girl in as much detail as I could offer. I recounted the incident. I tried to make myself sound a little cooler in dealing with her. And I worked my way back to the class lecture and Lissa’s fun with Quilla.

Eventually, Allison released me from his head press, sat up, and stretched. He brushed lightly at his dense hair. Today, Allison wore tiny black socks, a pair of pale-pink pants which looked somewhere between jogging pants and pajamas, a v-neck black top, and a black rose-covered jacket with long sleeves. As always, his thick, naturally-bright lips looked like he’d just given them a coat of gloss.

Leaning back against the couch, he rubbed at his eyes and began to talk about his day. He took special delight in the reactions of campus freshmen as they gave cautious double and triple takes at him before giving in to confusion. Plenty of theories were offered up by those same freshmen that he was transgendered, gay, somewhere in between, or other. Allison would always answer “other” with a coy smile. Most people just ignored him.

With a calm expression, Allison noted, “I’m fine with that. Better than wanting to punch and kick me every day till I’m spitting up blood.” I glanced downwards. There was so much I didn’t know about Allison. Some of it I wanted to ask. Most of it I figured he would tell me if he really felt like saying it. So, I just listened.

His acting class sounded amazing and I could vividly imagine the moments Allison recounted. I smirked a little that he was already planning for a layered “girl disguised as a boy” role from a particular play I’d never heard of. He demonstrated a few bits he’d learned from his dance class in an open area of the room. The recount of math and other classes was passed over with tidbits about “earning stares”. He was still waiting for another instance like last term when he got asked out on a date by a male student and then a female one on the same first day of classes. Allison teased the actual details of the “double date” for weeks after that.

Twirling his way out of the room, he soon returned with two sodas. I expected Clayton would get back soon with Malcolm probably wandering in much later into the evening. Allison had earlier offered to cook his favorite dish of sweet and sour stir fry for dinner. But we all knew Clayton would probably be dragging along a large pizza with him and Malcolm usually ate with family on Mondays.

The kitchen was Allison’s sanctuary and, despite whatever general disorganization occurred around the rest of the house, no one ever messed up the kitchen. Allison made sure of that. Malcolm’s sanctuary was the spare room across from the bathroom. Although ‘work-in-progress’ was probably the better name.

While we weren’t allowed to alter the house under the rental terms, Malcolm got pretty close with his movie-watching and gaming setup in there. He promised to hide all the holes he’d made before we moved out.

Clayton’s sanctuary (and workspace) was the garage, where he would often fall asleep between tinkering. For me, I considered my sanctuary to simply be my room, but I also enjoyed this spot on the long couch right next to the bookshelf I’d brought with me and filled with as many of my books as I could manage.

As I sipped my soda, Allison mentioned the backyard, which wasn’t really the most fitting term for the green-fuzz and fork-shaped little pine wedged between the patio and the back wall. He wanted to add a boxed herb garden. I figured Clayton would be able to recreate whatever pre-made thing from the gardening store across town. Allison had plenty of other ideas but I wasn’t sure that all of them would be doable.

Our discussion drifted into a few rounds of the fighting game Malcolm had imported from Japan. I picked a swift, kick-focusing female character in a rippling dress (none of the names were translated but I called her Maemi because that sounded like what her name was when they announced her on the selection screen). Allison always picked a big, burly guy with shock-white hair piled high on his head, who we both called Boris.

I kept Boris down for a few rounds but no amount of dodging could stop Allison’s skill with his body slams. Before long, Clayton staggered through the front door. Allison gave him a wide wave while still slamming my character into the ground with one hand.

Clayton had on his usual blue, high-collared shirt with khaki pants. He scratched at his slight, dirty-blond hair which clung high on his forehead like fuzz then pushed his dipping, narrow glasses back on his nose as he asked, “Anything explode today?”

From anyone else, the question would’ve been strange but, from Clayton, it simply meant, “How is everything?” It began just a week after he’d moved in and the kitchen faucet burst. This was soon followed by one of Clayton’s power tools suddenly “exploding”, with little pieces lodged in the garage walls ever since. We never got a proper explanation from Clayton as to why it happened but I was fine with that. It left plenty to the imagination when I told the story to others.

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I responded together with Allison, “Nothing today.” Our usual answer. Clayton gave a look halfway between relief and disappointment as he set his heavy bag against the wall and staggered into the living room. He widened his eyes and blinked a few times, as though the light in the room was somehow jarring.

He plopped onto one side of the long couch and peered at our paused game with a glance of surprise and a nod. Most people I’ve talked to aren’t sure what to make of Clayton and figure he’s either constantly-stoned, sleep-deprived, crazy, or some combination of those things. The only one I had any evidence for was sleep-deprived, due to the work he put into his garage projects. Allison scooted over to Clayton’s side and announced his “herb box” idea.

Clayton listened with a bent, frozen expression like a stunned opossum that had just face-planted into a tree. When he was done explaining, Clayton began drafting on a scrap of paper lying next to the couch. Allison smiled at the crude sketch and Clayton said only, “Okay” before slumping back on the cushion to suddenly take a nap.

A few seconds later, he bolted up and staggered over to his bag. He produced, as predicted, a pepperoni pizza. It was rolled up like a tortilla and glossed with nacho cheese. Walking towards the bathroom, he started chewing at one end. Allison hid a grin, scooted back over to me, and asked softly, “Cooking time?”

I prepped the veggies for the stir-fry as Allison cleaned out her wok. It was like helping my uncle cook back home. He was a professional chef (among many other things) but Allison had enthusiasm. Leaping at the ingredients, they danced over the stove. The smell of the sauce steamed in the air. Before long, two plates were set with a pot of leftovers for communal use.

Eating slowly, it didn’t take long for Allison to notice, lean forward with his hand to his chin, and ask, “Something else on your mind?”

A lot of things really. But I didn’t want to say that, not over dinner. I took a breath. Aside from the faint footsteps of Clayton wandering around one end of the house and the pinging of the cooling coils on the stove, things were so quiet. Even all these months on, it always felt so unnerving for things to be still. I used to count the number of lines zig-zagging the ceiling and trace their patterns to fill time. It felt like I always had too much time for everything, except to be still. A remnant of before I lived with my uncle.

I stirred my meal and just told him, “It’s the Kinrae imitation thing for class.”

Allison nodded and offered, “Meaning...you’re excited for it?”

Excited was too simple an emotion. I was everything, especially after seeing a Kinrae. The idea of being like that... A little shiver again. What I said in class was right. Only more so. It was just so hard to say without people getting weird, wrong notions about my intent.

And what was my intent? I wanted to be an anime girl. Why? I’d defer to Lissa’s words of “why the hell not?” I could come up with plenty of explanations, plenty of reasoning. But, ultimately, I wanted it for pure, irrational self-interest.

So, I wanted it for sexual reasons? I’d be lying if a sexual motivation wasn’t there. But it wasn’t my goal, just a perk. Allison gave a concerned look at my silence. I flashed a brief smile to reassure him.

Words came into my thoughts and I spoke them without vetting them, “I’m in love with the possibility. I’m in love with being an anime girl.” Reflecting on the words, I doubted them. I wondered if they were too big or not big enough. But they were the words I’d thought and felt and spoken at that moment, words true to me.

Allison gave a calm, soft expression in reply. I’d alluded to my words, I’d said them in numerous, different ways to Lissa and Allison. But those few words felt like the best words. I reserved the right to change my mind but I liked those words.

After a lull, Allison said, “Shame you aren’t receiving more than one of those things. We could really have some fun if we got everyone in the house to wear one.” He topped his words with a giggle as I couldn’t resist imagining that.

For Allison, it would be an easy imagining. He already had the attitude down. Her appearance would probably be much like it was now but with little touches, such as a new voice. Clayton’s image was a little tougher to envision. I’d seen his sister once or twice when she came around and she had really curly auburn hair and wore glasses like his. But she was a lot shorter. I liked the mental image of anime girl Clayton handling her power tools. Malcolm was even harder, so I just gave myself a random vision of an anime girl dressed professionally, like he once was for a job interview. Only I gave her a skirt and a confident flip of her long, dark hair as her wide, brown eyes peered out and she folded her arms.

By the sly grin on his face, I figured Allison knew what I was thinking. Twirling his fork, he advised me on how he suspected he would look as an anime girl. Not all that different than how he looked now.

“After all, isn’t all this adorable already?” He gestured to his soft, slight form and laughed. There was nothing to say to that. Well, I could remind myself and Allison that the devices came with a preset assortment of forms recorded from volunteers and modified through methods still poorly-understood. So it was unlikely any of us would find anime girl versions of ourselves in such a limited set. But it was food for the imagination.

Then Allison’s eyes suddenly jerked open and he raised a finger, saying, “Oh! There was one thing I forgot. I had another dream like the one I told you about last week.”

I remembered. One of those dreams. The kinds of dreams many had been having since not long after the Kinrae first arrived. Although not many documented the dreams in the early months and cases were still under-reported. My first dream of that type was a year ago. The most vivid dream I’d ever had. I woke up like normal in this house. Allison was cooking breakfast. But he was a she and her boyfriend was around. In the dream, this seemed normal. I did my normal routine, I got ready for class, got through the first session, and was preparing for my lunch when I woke up back in my bed with a strange sense of disconnect.

What struck me most was the realistic passage of time. It felt like I had been up for several hours and walking around. It wasn’t compressed time or just a feeling of time which went away once I realized it didn't make sense. The whole thing felt logical. All the senses were real. There was no break in reality. There was no break in time. It just felt like a normal day but not in my world.