Chapter Text
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WAKE UP. GET DRESSED.
Go to class. Attend meetings. Exorcise curses. Eat them. Gag. Repeat.
The first few days were filled with panic. The first week, denial. Now, a month in, it all felt like a blur.
Everything moved in patterns—like she was trapped in a cycle she couldn’t break, a loop where her body followed a routine it remembered, even if she didn’t.
She barely reacted to the curses anymore. At first, she flinched, recoiled, even screamed when she saw them, but now? She stared, she exorcised, she swallowed, she gagged. The first time it happened, she nearly tore at her throat, the taste of vomit and shit clinging to her tongue.
She didn't eat for two weeks
The second time, she barely made it to the sink before vomiting up her dinner.
This should be normal right? Her body acted liked it was.
So clearly it had to be, right?
The worst part wasn’t the curses, though. It wasn’t the routine or the fact that she was starting to forget what her own voice used to sound like.
It was the mirrors.
The first time she caught her reflection, she nearly clawed at the mirror, a choked scream forcing itself out of her throat. The second time? She bashed her head against the glass.
She stopped looking at them.
Avoided bathrooms now, turning away from reflective surfaces, keeping her head down when she washed her hands. But she couldn’t escape it completely—there were moments when she’d catch a glimpse, when she’d see the sharp jawline, the dark eyes, the face that wasn’t hers, and her stomach would twist with something sick and wrong.
But just as sickening as the situation was the body she was trapped in.
Flat. Broad. Heavy.
No softness, no curves, no familiar weight on her chest—just a firm, unyielding plane of muscle. And below, a foreign appendage that sent a deep-rooted revulsion through her whenever she was forced to acknowledge it. She avoided it as best she could, but it was always there, a reminder that she wasn’t herself anymore.
Her voice was deep, her hands too big, her shoulders too wide. She moved and felt a strength that had never belonged to her. When people looked at her, they saw someone else entirely. Someone they called Suguru.
And every time she caught her reflection, every time she was forced to confront the reality of him, she wanted to scream.
And then there was the other thing.
Her secondary gender
The word made her nauseous to the core. Omega. A designation stamped onto her very being, something that determined how the world saw her—how they treated her. She couldn't understand— why?
omegas—these so-called secondary genders dictated everything. How people behaved, how they were treated, how they saw themselves. It was to her horror that they didn’t just accept it—they embraced it, indulged in it like mindless beasts.
They sniffed at each other, rubbed their scents onto one another like animals marking their territory. And the worst part? Heats. Ruts.
The first time she witnessed someone in a rut, she nearly gagged. The way they whined, trembled, begged to fuck something—pathetic. It was unbearable.
Filthy animals who had the nerve to call themselves human.
It was the little things that kept gnawing at her. The way people looked at her—at Suguru. It wasn’t just the stares, those probing glances that she couldn’t escape. No, it was the expectation behind them. The way everyone expected her to know what to do, how to behave. As if she was perfect.
“Hey, Suguru,” a voice called out as she walked past the courtyard, the same voice from yesterday. What was their name? She couldn’t remember— that's a lie. Its a fucking lie but she doesn't want to think, “Got a second?”
She nodded mechanically, though she could feel every muscle in her body stiffening, resisting. Every inch of her skin prickled in discomfort, but she didn’t dare show it. The pressure to maintain composure was overwhelming, and somehow, this person’s gaze felt heavier than it should.
They knew each other— somewhat. From what she could tell, this body was never really close with anyone. No matter how popular they were, how many people they were surrounded with they were still alone.
“Everything okay?” They asked, their eyes lingering too long on her face, “You’ve been a little... off lately “
She swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling the unfamiliar weight of her voice deepening as she spoke. “I’m fine,” she forced out, though the words tasted wrong on her tongue. She could hear Suguru's voice—calm, confident, smooth, and most of all, normal—coming through her own mouth. And yet it wasn’t her own voice. It wasn’t her tone. It was him.
Her stomach churned
They seemed to buy her answer, though something about their smile didn’t quite reach their eyes, “Alright. Just making sure,” they said, stepping back, “You’ve been a little distant, that’s all “
Distant.
She hated that word.
It wasn’t her that was distant. It was this life—this body.
It was the reality of the curse she was trapped in. The cycle she couldn’t escape.The reflection in the mirror that wasn’t hers. The body that she could never get used to, no matter how many days passed.
The worst part? She couldn’t even escape the instincts—the pull of what Suguru would do, how Suguru would act. It was like the second she let her guard down, the voice in her head would whisper louder.
This is who you are now. This is how you belong.
The moment she let herself pause, she would feel the unnatural stillness in her chest. It was the unmistakable ache of being stuck. And it wasn’t just physical—it was everything. The habits. The thoughts. The expectations that slowly began to feel like her own.
Her fingers twitched, as if they remembered something. The pull to conform. The way Suguru would have smiled back at them. Maybe even laughed. But she wasn’t Suguru. She couldn’t be.
Yet the words she’d just spoken? They weren’t her own. They were his.
And it didn’t matter that they tasted wrong in her mouth because they fit. They felt like they belonged to someone who wasn’t her.
A voice whispered again, quieter this time.
It’s okay. Just breathe. It’s fine. You’re fine.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Their voice broke through the fog, “ You’re... not looking too hot “
She snapped her gaze back to them, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Yeah,” she said, pushing past them with a curt nod, “I’m fine “
It wasn’t enough to convince herself.
She made her way home, her feet dragging as if the weight of her body was too much to carry. The thought of seeing her parents made her stomach churn. Suguru’s parents. Not mine. Not me.
Her parents aren’t here. The absence is a hollow ache in her chest, a gaping wound that never quite closes. Every time she thinks of them, the grief threatens to swallow her whole. She wants to cry, to break down, to feel the warmth of her father’s steady presence again, to hear her mother’s gentle voice soothing her worries away. She can still picture her—those twinkling green eyes, the way she smiled like she had hung the very stars in the sky.
When she entered the house, the scent of home hit her first—warm, comforting, familiar.
wrongwrongwrong
Her mother, an omega, was in the kitchen, her soft presence radiating a certain kind of warmth that only omegas could. Her father, an alpha, sat in the living room, flipping through a book, his gaze hard and steady. Suguru’s parents. Their expectations lingered in the air like a thick fog.
She couldn’t avoid them
“Suguru, sweetie,” her mother called, her voice soft and kind. There was an edge of worry in her tone, something that made her feel like she was being suffocated by the air, “Are you alright? You’ve been... off lately “
Her father didn’t look up. He merely gave a small grunt in acknowledgment, but the weight of his unspoken expectation settled heavily on her shoulders. His alpha presence always made her feel small, like a child playing at being an adult. But she wasn’t a child.
She was— how old was she again?
She doesn’t remember, but she wants to. It hurts when she tries to.
“I’m fine,” She—he?? muttered, brushing past her without meeting her eyes.
Suguru’s mother followed her into the living room, her expression clouded with concern, “You’ve been spending so much time in your room lately. I noticed you haven’t been using your nest“ Her voice wavered with a mixture of maternal worry and gentle reproach, “ You know, darling, you need your nest to rest properly. Omegas need to—”
“I'm remodeling it,” she interrupted, her tone sharper than she intended.
Her mother didn’t seem convinced, her gaze flicking to the to her room, where Suguru’s nest was located. She had shredded it, removed everything—every last trace of Suguru’s life. The nest, the blankets, the familiar comforts that she felt were more like chains than anything soothing.
She didn’t need a nest— she’s not an animal so why bother?
Her fingers curled into fists, the frustration rising in her chest. It wasn’t just the nest. It was everything. The fact that she was forced into a body that isn’t hers. The expectations of what it meant to be part of this society. The way people treated each other like animals without any fucking decency or shame. She hated it.Every part of it.
She isn’t an animal.
There is no such thing as a ‘ need ‘
There is no need to build a nest because she isn’t a filthy animal.
His—Suguru(?) mother didn’t argue. She knew better than to push Suguru when he was in one of these moods. She had no idea what was really going on, of course, but she had to know something was off with her son.
The door clicked shut behind her, and she sat in the middle of the room, the bare walls mocking her.
She wants to go home.
But where exactly is home?
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𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 ; 𝐉𝐉𝐊
𝚅𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙾𝚄𝚂! 𝚇 𝚂𝙴𝙻𝙵-𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙴𝚁𝚃! 𝙶𝙴𝚃𝙾 𝚂𝚄𝙶𝚄𝚁𝚄
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