I had to sit down.

The two chairs that made up half of the furniture of my apartment were too far away for my wobbly legs, so I sat down on the edge of my small bathtub.

My brain, usually in perpetual overload actually shut up for once.

I don't know how long I sat there, my head down, my hands holding it.

It may not be glorious, but I wanted to call my mum.

But my phone was KIA. After yesterday's fiasco, it didn't turn on anymore.

Being a hero is definitely overrated. You get no recognition, and you break your stuff doing the heroics. Nothing good about it.

Well you don't have to look at a dismembered body. That's a plus I guess.

Oh ! It seems my overheated brain got back in action.

I got up and went to the balcony, really small, but the best part of where I lived, the pinnacle of my apartment, a sixth floor outside terrace, with a nice view of a park surrounded by buildings. It was usually super sunny too. Except that the weather decided to resemble my current mood. It may not have been raining but it couldn't have been more grim.

Having taken a new breath of fresh air, I got back inside, it was too chilly for me.

I proceeded making myself a cup of tea and a bowl of cereals. Like nothing was wrong.

No drug-induced body transformation, nope, nothing to see here.

I opened my laptop, it showed me that I had overslept.

Of course I had, my alarm was my phone.

« Eleven PM ? Shit am I nineteen again ? » I mumbled.

I saw my reflexion in the screen.

I closed my laptop.

Not facing it would be worst.

I knew it, I studied it, and I had said that very same thing before to a depressed friend, like a condescending University/College student who believes he knows everything better than the actual person concerned.

I frowned.

Self-depreciating wasn't helpful either.

I had to act, not stay in shock like a cute hamster.

Cute.

The vision of my face flashed in front of me.

« Fuck. » I cursed.

I was gonna act, fine.

But first I was finishing my tea, priorities right ?

I cleaned up my breakfast before going back to the bathroom. A five minutes delay before facing reality. Every second was good to take.

I looked at the small mirror. Same face, but not quite.

I noticed something new though. Something that wasn't quite right. I was sure I had a light stubble the day before, I didn't shave everyday, and I didn't yesterday. But my face was now devoid of any semblance of beard.

That was impossible.

I knew the sex-change drugs, heard about them from friends. My best friend had transitioned when she was a teen, and another girl friend had become a guy friend while I was studying. She, erm he had answered my questions about the different types of medicine given to him. What they were, what they did, I found it pretty cool and researched about it too. Estrogens, Testosterone, or derivatives of those particular hormones, that's what you used in those particular cases.

But even in a crazy amount, no drug could remove hair. It could prevent it from growing sure, but not make it dissapear.

Motivated by my new findings, I quickly undressed.

Nothing had quite changed, still not muscly, but thin and slightly toned. I sighed of relief at my chest and penis, untouched. Wait that sounded wrong...

I got cut in my thought, my body hair was almost completely gone.

« What the... ? »

Was I getting crazy? What other explanation was there? Hairs are still something, things don't vanish, not without heat propagation. Enough heat to create a mini-sun in fact.

My apartement had not become hell on earth, so I think that theory was out.

« Phew, I didn't get dosed with female hormones! I'm only fucking hallucinating ! Yaaaaay ! » I said sarcastically out loud.

But another idea popped in my mind.

I got back to my bedroom/living room and inspected my bed.

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« Eww... » Was my first reaction.

A pile of body hair was littering my litter. I mean my bedding. That was a bad joke, I chuckled anxiously anyway.

At least that part of the mystery got solved.

But answered questions only brought new ones.

« What fucking drug causes your body hair to fall overnight and makes your face slightly more feminine ? »

What if it wasn't the drug ? A genetic disease ? Crazy ideas were popping in my head.

So you know what I did ?

I took an appointment to the doctor.

It was 1PM, I shouldve been hungry, but my unusually recent breakfast was still currently satisfying my stomach. The smell of antiseptic and the white room wasn't good for my appetite either. This was probably in my top three worst places to be. The inside of a coffin was 1, number 2 was sewers or related foul places. And number 3, medical cabinets and hospitals.

I was nervously fiddling with my fingers.

There had been two elderlies and three children with their mom before my turn finally came.

I would be delighted to write my conversation with the doctor in japanese, but erm, you definitely would not understand. We don't want that right ?

It has nothing to do with the fact that my kanjis are horrible and I can barely recognise them, let alone write them.

Seriously.

The doctor was a sweet looking mid-aged woman in white clothing. She wasn't really beautiful, but she gave an aura of gentleness that was making me miss my mom.

Even though that one is more like an angry wolverine.

It wasn't the first time I met with Doctor Hisaya. But looking back at it, the bad sushi last month were pretty trivial considering to what was happening to me now.

« Jôrudinu-san, how are you ? » She immediately asked me.

Why did doctors always have to begin with that kind of question ? What would happen if I answered 'Oh, I'm perfectly fine thank you, what about you ? '.

I let the thought float away. Never a good idea to antagonize the one who was supposed to help you.

« Erm, well something bad happened to me yesterday, and I feel pretty strange right now. »

« Bad sushi again ? » She asked.

She definitely already knew that it wasn't sushi, but I think she wanted to show me she remembered me.

I did not really care about that, so I responded truthfully, trying my best to answer in my most comprehensible japanese.

« No, I think I got drugged, I vomited a lot, and I lost all my body hair this morning. »

She looked at me quizzically, probably trying to determine if I had made a language related mistake, or if I was still drugged.

I decided to remove the upper part of my clothing. Better to show than to tell.

As I looked down on myself something seemed weird, but I couldn't quite pinpoint what.

The doctor studied me for a bit, looking a bit lost.

« I am sorry to ask, but is this a joke ? »

That was an obvious reaction if there ever was one. I sighed.

« Nn, nn » I answered « I promise you, I am not pranking you »

It looked like she believed me.

« And you vomited yesterday night ? And got drugged ? Did you call the police ? »

« Yes and yes, and erm no, I have no proof, and I barely remember who they were. » I think I could find them again if I wanted to, but I certainly didn't want to involve the cops.

They looked like young rich japanese kids in their early twenties and I am a stranger barely a few years older. Hoping the police would be able to do anything to them was naive.

She didn't push the subject.

« I see, I would like to take some of your blood so the lab can run some tests to find out which kind of drug they injected you with, did it make you feel anything else ? »

I explained about my black-outs and how I felt after having that drink. I had to use english when it became too technical, but fortunately it looked like she understood.

She scratched her head with her pencil.

« It is most unusual. I believe the drug could be something like GHB, and you had a strange reaction to it, but I honestly have never heard about body hair loss as a result of a bad trip. I am really sorry to ask, but are you certain you did not take the drug yourself, do you really have no idea what it was ? » She had an anxious expression. She knew these questions usually brought really bad reactions. But even so she asked, because that was the professionnal thing to do.

I respected that.

« I would have told you if I knew, really. » I answered with a smile.

But internally I hesitated : did I want to talk about the strange feminization effects ? She had not noticed, so maybe it wasn't as obvious as I initially thought ?

It would show up if there was Estrogens or some kind of strange hormone in my blood, so I didn't add anything.

I payed her, and finally got out of the cabinet.

I was none the wiser, but at least I would be getting more info soon.

And anyway, things would probably get back to normal once the drug got out of my blood.

I had nothing to worry about.

My gut feeling was telling me the complete opposite.

Nothing to do about it though, so I just dismissed it.

I stopped by a 7/11 to buy some groceries, stopped at a library and got myself a nice book even though I didn't finish the previous one, and went back to my apartment.

Regaining your normal lifestyle after a traumatic event is really important.

Even though it's not that traumatic.

I could have been put in a coffin for two days, that would have been really traumatic.

I was almost joyful when I entered my room. I decided to walk the stairs instead of taking the lift, and I was a bit sweaty.

In the shower something felt weird. I had felt it in the doctor's office but had not been able to put my finger on what was wrong.

But as the first droplets of lukewarm water fell, it dawned on me.

My pecs, my chest may be normal in appearance, but in truth, the muscle was pretty rapidly transforming into fat.

The now warm water on my back couldn't prevent the horrible shudder going through my body.

« What the fuck is happening to me ? »

I tried to forget this new incident by sending a mail to my parents, quickly telling them what had happened, and saying that my phone was broken and that I would try to find a store to buy a new one tomorrow evening. I tried to be as reassuring as possible and was pretty vague, I would tell them in more details when I was gonna be able to speak to them.

For the rest of the day I read my book, finished it, and began my new one.

I made myself a quick meal at 7PM, and ate it in front of my laptop, looking at the local news. Best way to improve your hearing skills in a foreign language if you can't speak to a real person.

Rice and cooked salmon, nothing fancy, but oh so delicious. I'm a pretty good cook if I can say so myself.

I smiled, my fucked up body wasn't far in my mind, but at least I pushed it back a bit further.

I didn't smile for long as my laptop showed me the latest news.

A clinic and a lab had been burnt down in the beginning of the evening.

A clinic in Kyoto.

A familiar face was beeing carried to an ambulance. She wasn't looking good.

« Hisaya-san ? » I whispered softly « What the fuck is happening ? »

I stood there watching my screen.

My meal was getting cold.

And for some reason my throat was aching.

I guessed what it was. 

I could still see the corpse being buried. Made sure of it. Multiple times.

But I knew. He may be dead, but his legacy was not.

 "Shit."

My instincts are terrifying. Because when it's about something bad, they are never wrong.