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Snip, snip, snip came the sound of scissors as the hair fell to the floor around him. Admittedly, cutting his own hair might not have been the best decision, but he wasn’t sure how his parents were about to take what he was about to tell them.
He swallowed hard as he assessed his reflection in the mirror. Good enough, he thought to himself. He kind of liked his long hair, so he left it choppy, with enough to pull back into a small ponytail. It wasn’t perfect, but he looked like himself.
Chuuya swept the hair off of the floor and threw it into the trashcan, taking deep breaths to himself. He could do this. All he had to do was tell his parents that he was a man, and that he would be going by Chuuya, now.
He crept down the stairs as quietly as he could to find both of his parents in the living room, having just finished dinner and doing the dishes. Chuuya was supposed to be doing his homework, but he obviously wasn’t.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, hey. Mom, Dad. Can I tell you something?”
“Of course sweetheart,” his mother started to say, and then her eyes turned as wide as saucers. “What did you do to your hair?” she shrieked.
His father stood there, eye twitching.
“That… that was what I wanted to talk to you guys about,” Chuuya said, scuffing his foot on the floor. “I- I wanted to say that I’m transgender. I’m a man.”
His parents glanced at each other, and then burst out laughing.
Chuuya felt his face fall. He could feel tears building in the corners of his eyes.
“Honey, you’re becoming a beautiful young woman,” said his mom. “It’s just a phase.”
“I-I had a name picked out and everything,” whispered Chuuya, his voice breaking.
“You’re our daughter. You are not our son,” said his dad. “No one in this household is allowed to be one of those.”
Chuuya turned and ran back up to his room, tripping over his own feet. He could feel tears running down his face, landing on his baggy sweatshirt.
He could hear the sounds of his parents’ laughter behind him.
In that moment, he knew that his parents would never accept him, would never call him Chuuya- he would always be their little girl.
The thought made him sick.
He went to bed early that night, ignoring the texts and calls from his many, many friends. After tomorrow, he was sure he would have far fewer, but hopefully some would still stay by his side.
The next morning, Chuuya woke up bright and early for school. He put on his most masculine outfit, which wasn’t easy considering that all of his clothing was very feminine. His parents always insisted upon buying him floral dresses and skin-hugging clothing, so he ended up in a pair of jeans and the only button-down that he owned. It still looked too much like a blouse for his comfort, but he felt better with his favorite choker around his neck.
He snuck out of the house before his parents were even up, getting to the bus stop before they could see his outfit.
On the bus ride to school, Chuuya made posts on instagram and snapchat, using each one to come out as trans and to let all of his friends and followers know to call him Chuuya. The gossip wheel would do the rest.
“Oh my god, are you serious?” one girl said, poking her head into his seat. “You think you’re a boy? Oh my gosh, you’re so weird. I’m so telling everyone.”
People were whispering in the hallways by the time he got to school. People glared at him and he noticed. Usually, other students would stop to talk to him, pulling him aside into conversations as he walked down the hallways.
Now, though, people just shot him dirty looks, stepping away from him instead.
He found some of his best friends in homeroom. “Hey, Shirase,” he said with a wave.
Shirase looked at him like he was dirt on the bottom of his shoe. “Are you really one of… those?” he asked, his voice dropping low.
“You mean, am I trans? Please, call me Chuuya,” Chuuya said with a shaky smile.
“What the fuck. I thought you were going to go out with me one day,” Shirase said, shaking his head. “I can’t be seen with you anymore. You just committed social suicide.”
And then he turned and walked away.
Chuuya gaped at his retreating form.
That was when his phone started buzzing with text messages, all from people he thought were his friends.
Weirdo.
Freak.
What is wrong with you?
We can’t be friends anymore.
All day, people avoided him like the plague.
At lunch, he sat alone for the first time in years.
When he checked his phone, he saw that he had lost almost all of his friends on snapchat and insta. He sighed, pushing his food around his plate with his chopsticks. He was completely alone- no friends, and his family denied that he could even be trans.
Just great.
Suddenly not hungry, Chuuya pushed himself up from his table and threw away the remainder of his lunch, opting to go to the library instead.
He sat at a table there, all by himself. At least no one was here to glare at him or whisper about him behind his back.
Chuuya scrolled through his phone for a minute before pocketing it and just putting his head in his hands.
He jumped when a chair was pulled back next to him. It was someone who he didn’t recognize. Great. He was about to be tormented.
Chuuya sighed, glancing at the newcomer. “Can I help you?” he asked.
The boy grinned. “It’s Chuuya, right?”
Chuuya blinked in surprise. No one else had called him that. “Uh, yeah, why?”
“Well, Chuuya- I wanted to officially welcome you into the Social Rejects Club.”
Chuuya squinted at him. “That’s a thing?”
“No, but we can make it one.”
Chuuya scoffed out a laugh. “What’s your name?”
“Osamu Dazai. Want to be friends?”