I'M BACK IN THE FUCKING BUILDING

the mental image of that is hilarious

i just be writing whatever, posting whenever

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Typically, Eto would wake up and think, This house is too big.

It isn’t, and never will be, a statement without merit. Arima was a ghost in his own home, which meant she was the only one roaming its halls, and to her, for this kind of house and for her to be alone, she’d come to recite the complaint like a mantra.

Despite leading with the word “typically,” she doesn’t not wake up and think, This house is too big. Rather, the word “typically” is meant to emphasize that that was where the day ended. After that, she would roll out of her bed that’s a half-size too large, grab her pajamas and glasses on a dresser that’s a half-centimeter too long, and stumble to the kitchen with a ceiling that’s half a head too tall.

And at that point, the atypical appears.

First, a smell. There’s a smell coming from the kitchen, and while it’s smoke, it’s unfortunately not smoke alone. It’s accompanied by something… pleasant, and disgustingly pleasant at that. The stark difference from the normally stale air she breathes stops her in her tracks, and the tingle in her brain at the prospect of food— not just stale bread, but actual food— makes her recoil.

Second, some noise. There’s someone causing the smell, and they’re humming while stepping about the one creaky floorboard before the stove. Humming, in her household? It’s so odd, so foreign. Thankfully, when she pokes her head around the corner, all humming and other related good-natured noises come to a complete stop as Haise Sasaki freezes in his tracks— because she’s glaring. At him. She’s glaring at him in her flower-patterned pajama pants and maroon sweater. Truly a frightening sight. He might as well already be dead.

Then again, he’s not much better, wearing a white tee and blue shorts that are a little too high up his bare legs (really bare, to be clear. So bare and smooth, she could mistake them for the delicate legs of an insecure lady instead of some random Washuu lackey). There’s also an apron around his waist and a dirty spatula in his hand, neither of which are helping.

And that’s the third and final thing. Not Haise Sasaki’s taste in fashion— though that’s part of it— Haise Sasaki himself. The fact that he’s not only where Eto can see him, but that he’s also in her house. Her house. The house that she bought, because Arima was out working and apparently, they needed to “take the next step” in their relationship (‘relationship’)— a step that he wasn’t even there to take with her.

I must admit, I am not an expert on transgenderism. I struggle to understand so much of it, and the science is conflicting. When in doubt, however, I always try to err on the side of kindness, mercy, and compassion. I also try to get proximate, and I am learning so much from our transgender community. They are great kids who face enormous struggles. Here are the numbers that have most impacted my decision: 75,000, 4, 1, 86 and 56. 75,000 high school kids participating in high school sports in Utah. 4 transgender kids playing high school sports in Utah. 1 transgender student playing girls sports. 86% of trans youth reporting suicidality. 56% of trans youth having attempted suicide. Four kids and only one of them playing girls sports. That’s what all of this is about. Four kids who aren’t dominating or winning trophies or taking scholarships. Four kids who are just trying to find some friends and feel like they are a part of something. Four kids trying to get through each day. Rarely has so much fear and anger been directed at so few. I don’t understand what they are going through or why they feel the way they do. But I want them to live.