Work Text:
Otae had once compared Kyuu-chan to an onion: layers upon layers of conflicting gender roles – a man's heart and behavior, a woman's soul and body. The outermost layers were easily discarded, but the more she peeled off, the more her eyes began to sting.
Otae could not fathom the pain of being raised to become something you're not.
*
Kyuubei was tempted to wrap her many skins tighter around herself, so she would not make Tae-chan cry again. Although Tae-chan could easily say she embraced Kyuubei the way she was (they were best friends after all – whether man, woman or neither did not matter), the kind of embrace Kyuubei longed for was different. Her feelings went beyond simple adoration, but she had sworn to herself never to burden Tae-chan with them again.
This way, Tae-chan could stay by her side without feeling guilty for not returning them.
*
Once again, Kyuu-chan did not consider Otae’s side of the matter – or pretended not to. Was she so used to assuming what other people thought or felt that she was unable to see Otae’s tears roll down her cheeks whenever she diced onions?
(Neither of them could be happy if the other was not.)