Upside Down – Alternate Destiny

After they leave, there is little for me to do, except to think over everything I’ve been told. It still doesn’t seem real to me. Plus, all of this has left me depressed and confused.

I pull open my gown, look, and blush again. Nope, it wasn’t my imagination, they’re still there. Well, what am I supposed to do now? A better question is: was the girl in the mirror truly me? I have to admit, she’s beautiful. Or, should I say, I’m beautiful?

I get up and carefully make my way over to the mirror. Looking at the reflection, her expression gives you the impression of her being a little lost, but that only serves to increase her appeal in my mind. She’s not very tall, maybe 150cm or so with long, red hair. Slim, without being overly skinny; narrow shoulders taper down to a slender waist; and wide hips give her a great start on an hourglass figure. Her boobs aren’t all that large, but given how petite she is, they look much larger on her than normal.

All I can think is, ‘If this girl was in my school, every guy would be chasing after her.’ Just a second. This is me I’m saying this about. I don’t want that. I’m male, and with everything that has happened over the years, I’m afraid of other boys. Now I’m expected to date, marry, and have children with one? Even thinking about that is too much for me. Tears begin to stream from my eyes as my emotions finally bubble up and overwhelm me. I don’t know how to deal with this! I don’t want to deal with it; I want to go back to how I was! Slipping down to my knees, I lean my head against the mirror, cover my face with my hands, and let go of any attempt at reigning in my rampaging emotions.

Moments later, a nurse opens the door, and kneels beside me. She urges me to stand and guides me back onto the bed. She sits next to me, holding me close while gently rocking me, and quietly murmuring something in my ear as I continue to cry. I don’t understand what she is saying, but, somehow, I understand she is trying to comfort me. She envelops my small body even more tightly, holding me close until I finally exhaust myself and fall asleep.

　◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇

[Saturday, May 4th]

When I wake up the next morning, I’m embarrassed and ashamed when I remember how I acted. Even more so, when I finally notice the same nurse sitting in a chair beside the bed.

“Are you feeling better now?” She asks me with a concerned expression, which causes me to blush even harder and turn away from her.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. From what I understand, you’ve been under a lot of stress, so, naturally, you would cry. Most girls would.”

She glances at her watch and sighs. “It’s almost time for rounds, so your doctor should be here soon. Let's get your face washed. Give me a moment,” she tells me while smiling as she stands and heads for the bathroom. She returns momentarily with a small basin and washcloth. Sitting down next to me, she gently begins to clean away the tear stains from my face. “There we go, do you feel a little better now?”

“Yes, thank you. I mean, thank you for last night, as well as for this, too.”

She smiles again, reaches up, and softly lays her hand against my cheek as she says, “I didn’t do much. I just held you while you let it all out. Sometimes crying is the best way to help us feel better.” She stands up. “I’m sorry, but I need to go. My shift ended a long time ago, but I wanted to stay with you until you woke up. I didn't want you to be alone again.”

“Why? Why would you stay with me? You don't even know me,” I ask her because I’m confused. What reason could she have to do that for someone she doesn’t even know?

“Why? Well, one: it’s part of my job to take care of patients, and two: I love children. I’ve always wanted them, especially a daughter. If I were able to have one, I’d have hoped she would be as lovely as you,” She states while smiling sadly. She stretches out her hand and softly strokes my hair.

I get what she’s saying. There aren't a lot of children in the world now. Not long ago, I heard my parents mention that they comprise around 13% of the total population. I ask myself, ‘What can I do for her? She is so nice and even after her shift was over, she stayed for someone like me.’

“Bye. Take care of yourself. I hope I get to see you again,” she says and turns to leave until I grab her hand.

“Wait! What’s your name?” I ask her a little desperately.

“Oh, Tashiro, Mayumi Tashiro. Why?”

“I’m Sora. Uh… can we keep in touch? I can’t be your daughter, but I’d be happy to be friends.”

Her eyes get a little misty, and she leans down and hugs me, then quietly says, “I’d love to be your friend. May I call you Sora?” Somehow, I hit exactly the right thing to say.

“It would make me happy if you would. What should I call you?” I ask as I hug her back, burying my face in the crook of her neck.

“Mayumi’s fine. Ms. Tashiro would be too formal for friends, don’t you think?”

I giggle brightly for a moment. “Thank you, Mayumi. Not only for last night but for everything.”

She chuckles. “Sora, I do believe that's my line. Who wouldn’t want such a lovely young lady as a friend?”

Then she takes out a pen and pad and writes down something on it, tears it off, and hands it to me. “That’s my phone number and email address. Whenever you want to play or even if you want to talk, call or email me. I do need to leave now, or I might get in trouble. I hope to hear from you soon.” She smiles again, gently touches my cheek for a moment, blows me a kiss, and turns to leave the room.

“Bye Mayumi, I promise I’ll call you soon.”

She waves to me as she closes the door. Leaving me alone again as I wait for my family to show up.

　◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇

I must have dozed off because the knock on the door startles me awake.

“We’re here, sorry we’re a little late,” Chinatsu says cheerfully, as she almost runs over to hug me.

As I hug her back, I notice Dad isn’t here, and ask, “Mom, where’s Dad? I thought he would be here to pick me up too.”

“He was going to be, but something came up.”

Someone knocks on the door at this moment, stopping the conversation in its tracks. “Pardon my intrusion.”

Dr. Sato comes into the room, smiling and nodding at everyone. “Good morning. How are you feeling? Any changes?”

“Uh, I’m fine, except my chest is still tender. Other than that, I feel great.”

“Good, good. I’m glad to hear that. I need to check your vitals and take some blood.”

“Blood!” I state loudly, startled and afraid.

Okay, I know what you are thinking, but I have always been deathly afraid of needles. I darn near pass out at the mere sight of them. I don't know why, I simply do. It’s something that will probably never change.

“You can't hurt her!!!”

Chinatsu jumps in between us, protective of me, as always. Yes, yes, haha, funny. Laugh if you want, but for as long as I can remember, I’ve been timid and she has been protective of me.

“Stop that, Chinatsu. He isn't trying to hurt her. He has to make sure she is alright and taking blood for tests is part of it.”

“But Mom…”

“No buts, Chinatsu. I know you don't want to see her get hurt, but this has to be done. Simple as that,” Mom tells her as she takes her by the arm and pulls her out of the way. She walks over, sits down beside me, and takes my hand.

“It’s okay. I told you yesterday that we would always be here for you, didn’t I?”

I believe her because I know she would never let anyone hurt me. Regardless, I don't want to see this happen. I tightly close my eyes as I bury my face in between her breasts and hold out my arm in the doctor's direction. I can feel Mom’s arms wrap around me as she laughs at my antics, but whatever, I feel safer this way.

After the doctor takes my blood, I hear him mutter, “Eh?”

“Is something wrong doctor?” Mom asks him.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Nothing at all,” he says while looking at the inside of my elbow where he took the blood from.

Mom follows his gaze, and her eyes widen momentarily, then immediately shift to a neutral expression.

Mom pushes me back a little to tell me, “A bit more and we can leave, alright?”

I nod looking at Mom with damp eyes. Yes, I’m all for it, if it means we can leave this place soon.

The doctor has me stick a thermometer under my arm, then he checks my blood pressure, and listens to my heart, as well as looking in my ears and eyes, nodding each time as he does so.

“Her blood pressure, temperature, eyes, ears, and heart all check out, so she’s free to leave. Remember, she’ll be weak for a while, so don't try to do too much at once and take breaks often until she gains her strength back. If you want her to go to physical therapy you need to call the hospital to set up appointments. Also, she’ll need to come back in every Saturday at 9:00 in the morning so we can monitor her health and overall progress. Do you have any questions?”

I ask the one question I most want the answer to, “Yeah. Doctor, is there any way to turn me back into a boy?”

He shakes his head for a moment as he answers, “I’m sorry, but you were under 24-hour care, and you almost died several times. In my opinion, another attempt would be foolhardy and, most likely, result in your death. Anything else?”

I shake my head while feeling a bit sorry for myself. I don’t know why either. I’ve never been all that attached to being a boy. Heck, I detested most aspects of being male, period. Probably something to do with me being afraid of changes, while at the same time, afraid things will remain the same. Dumb, right?

“No, thank you, doctor. I will make sure she gets here every week for the check-up,” Mom tells him.

“Well, then have a pleasant day, and I will see you on Saturday, Ms. Ito.”

“Her name is Kobayashi, not Ito,” Chinatsu says firmly. She’s always like this. I've never seen her afraid of anyone or anything, other than Mom and Dad that is.

“Is it now? Well, I apologize for using the wrong name, Ms. Kobayashi.”

The doctor nods his head at us, leaves the room, and closes the door behind himself. I could hear him laughing in the hall as he walked away.

“Well, Sora, you heard the doctor. Get dressed, and we’ll leave,” Mom says, handing me a bag. I look inside and see some folded clothes. “Before you even say anything, I’ll tell you right now: there is nothing else for you to wear. So, if you want to leave, you will be leaving wearing that outfit,” she states firmly. Okay, I know that tone of voice all too well. That’s her, ‘don't even think of arguing with me,’ tone. Even Dad immediately gives in when she uses it.

I have a bad feeling about what’s inside, but I take the items out of the bag and a piece falls to the floor, which unfolds as I pick it up. Aren’t these? “What are these?” I ask.

“Panties. What else would they be?” She again states in her no-nonsense tone.

Sighing, I pick up the clothes, head into the bathroom, and close the door. I set them down on a shelf. Why are girls' panties so small? Before that, will this tiny thing little scrap of cloth even fit me? I crack open the door and poke my head out. “Mom, are you sure these will fit me?”

“You and Chinatsu are close to the same size, so you will be fine until we can get you measured. By the way, there is no bra in there because I’m sure that Chinatsu’s would be too small for you, so I bought a camisole for you to wear. Now get dressed. We have things to do.”

“Okay, Mom,” I say resignedly.

Stepping back, I close the door again. Opening the panties, put my legs through, and pull them up. Wow, girls' panties are snug, aren’t they? Plus, they’re nothing like the boxers I’ve worn before. It’s not that they feel bad, as a matter of fact, the material they are made of feels soft and smooth against my skin. It’s merely that they are so different from what I am used to. That said, what am I supposed to do now? If I take the gown off, I’ll see my boobs and be embarrassed again. Then again, if I take too long getting dressed, Mom is going to get upset.

Someone knocks on the door startling me, and then Chinatsu’s concerned voice drifts through the door asking, “Are you alright? Do you need some help?” 

It’s as I thought, I’m taking too long and something still needs to be done about my hair as well. Who would I rather ask for help, Mom or Chinatsu? Well, that’s an easy question for me to answer. “Chi, would you help me?”

Chinatsu opens the door, steps inside, and gives me a thoughtful look. “Okay, leave it to me this time.”

I close my eyes as she takes the gown off.

“Okay, now go Banzai!” When I do she slips the camisole over my head, and of course, she just had to embarrass me by saying, “Your boobs are bigger than mine,” as she moves my breasts into the built-in cups of the camisole.

I groan and look down as I say, “Please, don’t say things like that. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing. You have a great figure. Okay, go banzai again!”

When I do, she pulls the dress over my head and zips up the back. She then takes the waist ties and ties them into a bow behind me.

“You look amazing. Look at yourself.”

I look in the mirror, and there stands a pretty girl, with quite messy hair, in an ivory one-piece dress with dark blue lace trim, which falls to mid-thigh. If I’m honest, and I always am, I have to agree with her.

Chinatsu opens the bathroom door. “Mom, I need the brush and ribbon you brought.”

After she receives them, she turns back to me and begins to brush my hair to smooth it out. Once she accomplishes that, she gathers it up in the back and sides and uses the dark blue ribbon to tie my hair up into a ponytail.

Finished, she hugs me from behind with her chin resting on my shoulder. Points at the mirror and states, “Look, Sora, that’s you. Not someone else, but you, and you’re beautiful.”

After we look into the mirror for a few moments longer, she lets me go, takes me by the hand, and leads me back into the room. When Mom sees me, she covers her mouth with her hand. Her eyes look a little misty as she says, “Oh my, Sora! That suits you perfectly!”

Chinatsu looks at me as if saying, ‘Told you so!’ Then she leads me over to a chair, gestures for me to sit, and hands me a pair of lace-trimmed white ankle socks decorated with little hearts and white sandals. Once I have them on, I stand back up, and Chinatsu takes my hand again.

“Okay, girls let’s get out of here, so lead the way,” Mom tells us, seemingly impatient to leave the hospital.

Chinatsu takes my hand, refusing to let go, as we walk slowly out of the hospital.