The day after the party was warm, too warm; I had a fever. Nothing serious even for a baby; but my parents looked panicked all the same. The person I assumed was the doctor stayed next to me while I laid in bed. After the first couple of hours she had kicked everyone out of my room because they were being too noisy. In the newfound calmness of not being around these people that doted on me far too much; I finally remembered to take a proper look around the room. My eyes had finally gotten rid of the last vestiges of blurriness. It was a simple: well constructed room with wood walls and a Japanese style paper sliding door on one side. Small simple windows lined the opposite wall on the top edge, letting in lots of natural light. When it was dark out candles or interesting looking glowing rocks were used instead.
Considering the complete lack of technology I had seen, it was pretty easy to deduce that whatever world I was in now had yet to experience an “industrial revolution” of any kind. It was fascinating to watch the doctor work as she talked to me in a calm voice who’s words I couldn’t understand. She was able to conjure some kind of warm light that made me feel a lot better; I was entirely transfixed by the light, magic! I tried to feel the energy pulsing through me and found it to almost flow like water throughout my body. This warranted more investigation!
Closing my eyes I attempted to focus only on the energy flowing inside of me and the energy that the doctor was pushing into me. Only to promptly fall asleep as soon as my eyes closed. Curse this infantile body of mine!
I was fine at the end of the week much to the joy of my family. My mother and father were both crying tears of joy, having been prevented from doting on me too much over the course of the entire week. I sighed. My family seemed to be very over the top with their emotions. I didn’t hate it but I felt like it may become tiresome at some point. From this day on I started sleeping with mom and dad on their bed as I had outgrown my crib but wasn’t quite big enough to have a bed to myself yet.
It was clear I was developing quite slowly as I started piecing together the timeframe of how long it had been since I was born so I decided to put in a little more effort. I learned how to walk by the end of the next week. My first steps were very well received by my family as I toddled my way very slowly towards my mother; my Dad and Brother cheering me on quietly. I still hadn’t found my voice since the night of the party however. I wasn’t really sure why myself. Base emotions were hard to come by as well. I was able to have fun and laugh and cry in my head but I was unable to make most of those feelings visible to those around me. Mom and Dad quietly murmured in worried tones in conversations that I’m sure were about me while they thought I was sleeping between them. Their gentle strokes on my head comforting and warm. I missed my old parents despite their now obvious faults. I wondered how they were doing after I had died. Not that there was much point in worrying about it anymore.
My observations about slow development were shattered after a few more days of toddling around as growing pains wracked my body. These were far worse than the kinds of growing pains I remembered. My bones hurt, skin stretched, and a splitting headache made me bedridden for a couple days as my horns grew several inches. During the downtime in-between the agony I wondered if my determination to finally accept this new life a little more and work harder had affected my growth. After all I wasn’t human anymore, and magic was very much present.
After the horrific growth spurts ended I was finally able to make my discontent with the diapers known, finally having developed enough control in my lower half to decide when I would defecate. Though the control brought sensation to lower parts and the lack of some parts I used to have. I convinced myself that it was just something to do with how my new body grew, after all I was still a boy right?
Finally they brought me into the bathroom and allowed me to sit on the toilet as long as I was supervised. Still being small enough to fall in if I wasn’t careful. The toilet fascinated me much to the amusement of my family. It was simple and made out of wood but pressing your hand against an intricate looking iron circlet on the side of it caused a ball of water to form above the bowl before gently flowing down the bowl to wash it out. And instead of toilet paper there was a small wooden spatula that had two circlets on it. One side made a ball of water float above the spatula for washing out and cleaning and the other side blew warm air to dry you off. All a very hygienic process.
After inspecting the circlets I noticed they were made of small symbols and words! Not that I could read them but it was amazing! Real magic circles! Straight out of something like a game! Taking advantage of the privilege toddlers have I refused to let go of whatever magic circles I could get my hands on. But they were always able to distract me with interesting new foods and treats long enough to snatch the vital devices away from me. I was determined to copy down those circles someday! Once I finally got a hold of the small child running around in my head…
I had gotten better at walking, though I was still confined to the gigantic feeling house. Being a toddler was amazing, everywhere felt so huge and fun to explore. I was able to lose myself for hours within the many rooms of our house. The house itself felt like being inside of a traditional Japanese home. It wasn’t quite Japanese but it felt very similar to the anime and manga I remember looking at before. Paper sliding doors all except for the front door which I never found a chance to look outside of; unable to catch Dad or Brother coming in or out of the house; and I was too small to reach the door handle on the top of the door. Why was it all the way up there anyways??
And yet even with the size of the house the only mirror was in the bathroom above the sink, which I was too short to reach or look into. My hair had gotten quite long and I kept wondering why they wouldn’t cut it. Maybe it was tradition for all children to keep their hair long? I hope they'll let me cut it as short as Dad or Brother soon. Long hair was annoying. It was nice when Mom brushed it though.
Fortunately I had been starting to be able to use my voice more often lately. It was mostly gibberish but it was nice to be able to make noises finally. Communication had gotten a lot easier and I was finally able to voice my desire to look in the mirror.
“M-ira!” I said, with a little too much enthusiasm, startling my mother. We were having a bath and she had just nodded off in the hot water.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Hmm? What is it my darling” she replied. I couldn’t understand the words but I could tell she was wondering what I wanted
“mirah” I said again, pointing at the mirror
“Do you want to look at yourself in the mirror?” she asked, she had developed something similar to simple sign language to talk with me alongside the doctor. They understood that I was very intelligent for my age but was unable to understand most of their words still even if I could infer the meaning behind them through the context of the situation and intonation of the words. My mother gestured towards the mirror, asking if I wanted to look. I nodded enthusiastically. She sighed a bit but lifted both of us out of the tub to dry us off first.
My first look at myself since I had entered this new world a little more than a year ago! Mother lifted me and I saw myself for the first time. Pale skin that even on a child could be described as beautiful, the same as my mother’s. Bright emerald eyes that were like… no… they were jewels seated into my eye sockets much like my brother, adorned with pitch black vertically slitted pupils, unlike my family and long black hair to match my mother’s. A thin doll-like face. Two little horns poking out of my forehead and small red markings near my collarbone, that I was unable to see without the mirror, which looked like Father’s. As I took in the sight of myself the most important part became readily apparent. My heart raced with this new discovery, a kind of excitement and trepidation about the future. Staring back at me from the mirror was a small, incredibly cute girl. The girl who was myself. My confused expression must have been noticed by my mother who chuckled a bit. Holding me close then pointing to me while saying
,“Inalia”, then pointing back to herself “Kahni”.
I just looked a bit confused again. When she pointed back to me and said “Inalia” once more I felt stupid for not getting it the first time, my name, Inalia. And my mother’s was Kahni. Excited by the knowledge of my name I managed a “eeee-nabeea!” while raising my hands a little. Pointing to Mom and spouting “mama” then snuggling in close. I needed some time to process the idea of being a girl and hoped Mom would put me to bed for a nap so I could have some alone time. I yawned to get the point across.
That night I let myself silently cry a little. ‘Nathaniel’ was truly gone. After crying for a few more minutes I steeled my resolve once more, this time to live my life as Inalia. Though my resolve would once again be shattered once I woke up: I had wet the bed. I silently cursed my child’s body while watching Mom wash the sheets that morning.
After the ordeal that was waking up to something so embarrassing it was hard to motivate myself to do anything of note. The sudden revelation of my sheer obliviousness to my new gender was internally embarrassing. It was a lot to process inside of the hiding place that was the bedding closet in the master bedroom. Kahni would call for me every once in a while but I knew she knew where I was. She had found me here several times before. Despite that it still felt like a safe small space to hide away in. the comfort of the winter sheets and feather blankets in the small dark space becoming quite cozy rather than claustrophobic.
Once again I silently cursed my toddler’s physiology, having fallen asleep among the blankets entirely. I curled up even further into a fetal position and just absently played with my long and silky hair, the meaning behind the length had finally become apparent. Glancing around in boredom I noticed the door to the closet was open much further than I had left it. Someone noticed me while I was asleep. Crawling to the open gap I peeked out, revealing my brother, Zenna, sitting on the floor while reading a book; waiting for me to emerge. His face lightened into a grin as he put down the book. Gesturing to come over while saying something. Begrudgingly I crawled over to him, not bothering to stand up for the short distance it took to get to his admittedly comfortable lap. Internally embarrassed I thought to myself how I wouldn’t have ever willingly done anything like this before, but had since changed now that I was Inalia. Whether due to the hormones of a new body and gender or maybe the very chemistry that made up my brain had changed me, either way the embarrassment didn’t last for long as I decided to accept it without much thought.
Zenna kept trying to talk with me, but the words were lost. The expression of confusion and frustration must have been apparent because he just chuckled a bit before standing up, hoisting me into the air in his arms as he did so. I made a small noise of displeasure before my expressions and voice were once again lost to whatever mental block they hid behind.
Zenna caught my attention with a hand wave and signed to me while speaking slowly “you want to see mother?” He said each word with a sign slowly so I could understand far more easily. I nodded and he carried me down the stairs to the kitchen. Kahni was a whirr of activity while preparing enough food to feed a small village. Several small jars were scattered around various surfaces full of the incredible amount of soup stock she was making. She was canning it for winter storage. Zenna called to her and she brightened up while coming over to see both of us. I was promptly handed off to my mother while Zenna waved goodbye and walked to where the front door was. Most likely going to help father with something.
“Do you want to help?” asked Kahni, looking at me with a smile only a mother could give to a child. It was a bit hard to reconcile the sheer amount of affection she gave to me and Zenna. It was appreciated but overwhelming at times. I nodded in response to her question. For some reason I was able to understand her a lot better than anyone else I had seen so far.
She set me down at the table in front of a veritable army of jars. She pointed to a wooden crate full of small metal disks and rings. Showing me how to match the various sizes with the empty jars and put on the lids. Once she was sure I understood she left me to it and went back to running around the kitchen
Standing on the chair to get a better vantage point over the whole sea of jars, I started working. My tiny hands were not yet used to the surprisingly delicate work. Clumsily grabbing various disks and rings and dropping them more often than affixing them to the jars. I wondered to myself if this was normal work to give to a child that’s barely more than a year old. Despite it being apparent to my parents that I was growing and developing slowly the amount of growth and effort that was apparent to me was intense. Apparently Oni grew much faster initially than humans and my body was closer to that of a 3 or 4 year old’s in terms of human growth.
The rapid growth hadn’t helped much though. It was already a hassle to get used to a new body, let alone while it’s changing so much. I sighed while thinking about needing to go through puberty again. A loud clatter rang out as I dropped a stack of rings. Unable to control my emotions for a split second I made a frustrated noise and stomped my feet on the chair a bit. Mother looked over to watch, her hands too occupied to sign something to me properly. I huffed and regathered my emotions. Stepping off the chair; my accursed tiny and clumsy body failed to lower me slowly and I tumbled off. A dull pain reverberating through my chest and ribcage. Becoming quickly frustrated I just gave into my emotion and began to cry. Mother quickly stopped what she was doing and picked me up. Shushing and comforting me while murmuring gently to me. It was a lovely feeling I had forgotten; to be comforted by someone who loves you so dearly. I fell asleep in her arms and drifted away to a warm fluffy slumber