I got isekaied but not the way I wanted (wished to be a girl♀ but I’m a guy♂ again)

「Katsumi」

I imaged it’d be easier but it totally isn’t.

Not fair! This is the whole weapon summoning debacle from a few months ago all over again. I can’t deal with this again.

This is so frustrating!

It’s all her fault. Last time I saw her, Mrs. Fox-spirit left me a note with instructions and two videos on my phone. She filmed them in my flat while I was asleep, which is mildly unnerving. But she was staying the night, so it’s fine I guess.

She wants me to learn two spells.

And I’ve been trying the past days, but this is more a months long affair it seems.

One is supposed to produce a flame whose temperature and intensity I can control and the other is an illusion spell.

According to her rundown the last one doesn’t require an incantation to be spoken but it does need a substitute like a small leaf or pebble. Sounds familiar. And if the illusion is particularly well cast it will be corporeal instead of only a visual illusion. So far so good.

The videos show off the hand movements necessary. Calligraphy in midair Hotaru had called it when she had explained magic to those nice old ladies, and it’s damn accurate.

Aaaand I’ll never be able to do any of that!

Not that I can’t see my teacher taking no for an answer, so I’ll keep trying and practicing anyway.

What is that damn kitsune thinking? Calligraphy? Me?

She literally hexed my writing because it was so bad!

Okay, I did learn I can still write normally if I concentrate, it’s more like she changed my muscle memory or something.

Not that it matters. I’ve been practicing my hand movements the past few days. Whatever good that does.

During the day the weather had played around with the idea of a rain shower—dark clouds and all—so I’m glad that the night has remained dry so far. I can do without getting drenched, thank you.

Me and Haruki are out on patrol, checking out some bigger disturbances and bagging any F or D-class demons we might happen upon. So far it has been rather quiet, but the night is still young.

Walking side by side, she raises one eyebrow glancing at my not so graceful hand flicks.

“Are you following Hotaru?” She asks with a smirk.

“Not really. My teacher wants me to, but I think I’m hopeless.”

“Giving up so soon? If you keep working on it, it will eventually click. It’s a matter of practice. According to Hotaru.”

I give a long drawn out sigh.

“So…”Haruki opens “You saw her again, your spirit?”

“Yes. She just… showed up.”

There is a small pause and I can feel her judging me. Probably thinking something like, 'you should’ve told us'.

“I think you should talk to someone about your encounters, maybe a priest, or even write them down?”

“That’s the last thing I’m gonna do.”

“Why?”

Because it’d be like, totally embarrassing?

“Because!”

I get a second look, heavy with unvoiced questions and opinions, but Haruki thankfully doesn’t pry. Which is good, because everything is a bit too much right now. The downright invasion of images of future girl-me next to Hikari is the most distracting and—if I’m being honest—uncomfortable thing like, ever.

It makes my current predicament like some kind of broth torture. Because I want to be that girl in my future right now! I need to be her! But I can’t. So I’m stewing slowly in this whole mess unable to get out. Fuck!

I need to take some heads, demon heads that is.

Haruki looks at me funny.

Yes, my mood is probably radiating off me like the heat of a fire.

Luckily she doesn’t say anything. She's most likely waiting on me to say something.

Ha! She can wait the whole night for that, I so don’t wanna talk about any of this.

Not about the kitsune and her weird antics, not about the looming threat of my sister, not about me behaving all wrong, not about the Hikari situation, any of it.

What good would talking do at this point?

I have a plan!

I just need to get through this and become A-rank as soon as possible, before I implode or my sister catches wind of what I’m actually doing and drags me back home. I don’t want to find out what some noble warrior clan might do to a son that is dead-set on turning himself into a daughter. Nothing good, that’s a given.

A frustrated sigh leaves my mouth.

Have I become more moody?

I'm getting the distinct impression that I’ve been more moody. Another girl-puberty thing?

Doesn’t matter, I’m not stopping. I need this.

Also that train has left the station. Got a pudgy ass and thighs and a squishy sensitive chest.

Also I never in my life want to smell like a guy again.

The only way is through.

Haruki and me fall back into our silent stride with her checking the app infrequently throughout. Our main hunting grounds for tonight is this faux industrial area full of low warehouses and spaced out narrow streets.

It’s about an hour into our patrol that we hear the distinct shouts of a battle.

The rumbling comes from around the next corner, which is far off.

Both of us go into a full sprint.

“Other Hunters.” Haruki remarks.

There is an unspoken rule. If you were to happen upon other hunters, you would generally not interfere or steal their kill, but you always made sure to check if they need help and if so, lend a hand.

It’s how you stay alive in a business like this.

At full speed, we skirt around the corner of the four way intersection, high perimeter walls boxing us in. The scene comes like a gut punch. I wince instinctually.

Two people, a tall guy with a sword and a girl with a spear.

They're dark silhouettes against the row of street lamps, their glowing blades marking them as hunters. They're cornered, and the girl is holding her visibly stained abdomen—blood.

Their prey is two ink tigers, but currently their roles appear to be reversed. One of the demonic tigers has a small wound glistening with their signature ink blood.

When it comes to demons, Ink Tigers are about as straight forward as it gets, pure people eater D-class brutes, who look like lion-dance costumes or parade floats come to life and twisted into monsters, neither harmless nor pretty. Sharp teeth, sharp claws and fiery red eyes.

Shortly after I started at the konbini, I spotted one of those beasts on my way home, but it was far away enough to evade and go around. I shudder at the memory.

To now have to face two demons like that head on is super daunting. I don’t feel ready.

But retreat is out of the question.

It’s clear if we don’t intervene those two hunters are done for.

We watch as the two demons split the pair from each other. Something about them feels familiar.

“The girl,” Haruki yells.

I’m in agreement, she doesn’t seem to be holding out much longer. The grip on her spear with only a single hand is far from firm and her steps are uncoordinated. She is fighting for her life while clutching whatever wound she has.

Haruki summons her large blade and I my naginata—the reach will come in handy.

Haruki gives a loud scream alerting everyone to our presence as we jump in the fray. The ink tiger closest to us—the one engaged with the struggling girl—reacts to our sudden appearance and shifts focus.

Good.

We trained this. Haruki is in front and I right behind her, more or less obscuring myself behind her wider frame. I hold the blade of my weapon low to the ground. She takes a wide arching swipe with her sword and turns with the swing.

The demon evades it, but in that moment I emerged from Haruki’s back and attack with a long upward cut.

Unable to dodge two attacks in such short succession I carve a deep gash into the ink tiger’s right hind leg, which immediately buckles.

The demon roars and jumps down the street towards his ally, and the second hunter.

Mine and Haruki’s eyes meet.

“Help him,” she commands.

I understand. She’ll assess the girl's wound and then decide on further actions.

I give a huff of resolve. I can do this.

My gaze flashes over the girl's face half illuminated by the light of the street lamp.

Rin!!!

That’s Rin! So the big guy with the sword must be Tarō!

The figure slashing at the ink tiger a few meters away definitely has his build.

There is no time to waste, I have to push the advantage.

I dance quickly forward, weaving steps left and right, keeping my true intention obscured from the injured demon. My pony tail and skirt swinging like an erratic pendulum.

The demon's eyes follow me. It stands with its side facing me and its head to my right. I see it crouch low, ready to react, but I can almost taste its uncertainty. Hesitation in its hunches shoulders.

Yes demon which of my steps is the one I’ll use for my strike, from which direction will it come? You have no fucking clue, do you?

I feign a hard stop and the demon jolts.

I continue onwards and my naginata races forward not in one of the forms I trained but a simple stab to its right.

The demon pushes it self backward to my left—towards the wall—with its front legs, intent on avoiding my weapon, trying to have it miss its head.

I catch my polearm’s trajectory, rotate its blade, shift my weight on my left foot and let the momentum of my weaving sprint carry over into a long leftward swing.

The demon notices its mistake too late.

It should’ve jumped further down the road, not to the side. It can do nothing. Its fate is sealed.

My blade digs into its flank. I feel the resistance of flesh and skin fighting my cleave. My muscles burn and for a moment I almost think I don’t have enough strength to pull through. Then the release. The blade freely flies through the air, throwing a giant splatter of ink blood against the wall. A long, deep wound, runs along the whole length of the beast.

It’s done.

No stopping.

I vault over the faltering ink tiger and let the blade of my naginata trail low to the ground behind me. I’m not letting the other demon readjust to its ally no longer guarding its rear.

Facing away from me, not a meter from its dying comrade, the second ink tiger is still trying to get a good jab at Tarō. Tarō’s familiar face is clearly now lit, the exhaustion and desperation visible.

I see the demon flinch as my feet hit the ground.

Yes, you’re done for too.

Two steps and my upward cut leaves no room for it to turn around or evade my attack.

I clip its left hind leg and cut deep into its belly.

The demonic tiger gives awful yelp, staggers and tries to face me.

I halt my cut at chest-height, keep the blade there and press forward, another step closer, and jam it down hard on its head. With an awful crunch, the light in the demon’s eyes goes dark in an instant.

YES!!!

Oh no.

My weapon is stuck.

And I still have my full momentum.

It has my upper body overshooting my legs.

I’m stumbling.

I'm going to face plant hard!

Shit!

The ground is coming towards me!

My arms are still at my side.

No cushioning this fall.

Well…

I collide with something firm —not hard pavement—pressing against my chest and waist.

I’m caught.

Strong arms and hands are holding me.

I expect Haruki, but with a slight turn of my head, I stare directly into Tarō’s eyes.

They’re wide and the expression on his handsome face speaks to his shock.

We stay locked in this position, him holding me in his arms, staring at each other, while I become aware of my heaving chest and racing heart.

Nobody says a word. I can smell his after-shave. It’s nice.

It takes a few more beats, then I notice exactly where one of his hands resides, or at least the tips of his fingers.

Why are these barely raised cones on my chest so fucking sensitive!? Even through the silicon insert it feels as if he is fondling me directly!

Also why is he holding me like some damsel he just rescued!?

I’m the one who saved him not the other way round!!!

The heat in my cheeks can probably cook an omelet.

FUCK!!!

This is super undignified and so fucking embarrassing.

I’m still a guy. I’m a guy.

“I’m a gi-” rl! Guy!—Fuck!

I catch my own words with my hands before they ruin everything. Damn kitsune and her stupid hex making me yell things I don’t want to.

“What?”

I snap to look away.

“I’m-m-m good.”

“Hu?”

“I said I’m good! No need to hold me. Just… put me the fuck down Tarō!”

My trained voice shoots through the upper register and in some kind of embarrassed girly falsetto shriek.

Startled, and in a very awkward fashion, he finally sets me down. His gaze falls to his hand and he evidently realizes where it had just been.

His eyes dart to me and I give him a death glare surely powerful enough to obliterate an entire army.

The color drains from his face and he quickly averts his eyes.

I fully turn away and start dusting myself off and fixing my clothes in some desperate attempt to do something, while I feel the distinct heat of flushed cheeks.

It dawns on me… how this must have looked from his perspective. Fuck! This so fucking embarrassing! Lying there, wide eyed in his arms, looking up at him with blushing cheeks, turning away all red-faced and demure.

Fuck, I even smell all flowery and sweet!

It’s bad enough that he saw me dressed the way I am, but this…

I begin walking over to Haruki who has a rather confused expression, which she quickly loses as I come closer.

“It’s a deep cut. She’ll need to have this stitched.”

Haruki has pulled some sort of bandage from her miniature first aid kit and is in the process of wrapping it around Rin’s abdomen.

Rin winces and beholds me with visible reservation. Or maybe its hatred, hard to say. She still thinks I’m the same old sadistic bully pretty boy was back in the day. His reputation hasn’t haunted me much, but it isn’t exactly gone either. My family and Rin being the ones most eager to remind me of it.

“Glad to see you’re okay Rin. Need us to call you an ambulance or cab?” I try in my softest most honest tone.

“No. Awfully convenient that you were around.”

The implication is clear that I had somehow set the whole thing up, to… I don’t know… hurt them and make them look weak, or whatever Rin thinks of me. Which is all manner of insane, but okay.

I roll my eyes. That probably doesn’t help my case, but I don’t have it in me right now to not get mad at her.

His footfalls announce Tarō’s approach, “Rin! Are you okay?”

“Yes—fuck.” She hunches in pain.

Haruki changes position to address Tarō. “She needs a doctor. That cut needs a good cleaning and stitches.”

Rin huffs angrily. “Yes, yes, I’ll go and have it looked at.”

Together Tarō and Haruki pull Rin gently to her feet.

She looks so fragile and hurt, it kinda breaks my heart.

No. She is a major bitch who hates me and didn’t even say thank you, so fuck her.

Tarō tries to catch my attention.

We are leaving!

I take Haruki’s hand and try to pull her away. “They’re fine, they don’t need our help anymore.”

To my back I hear Tarō.

“Katsumi wait!”

I do not.

“Katsumi!”

I'm so not stopping.

I'm leaving.

I'm putting as much distance between me and him as possible.

He's running after us.

Okay, I’m not running away from Tarō, I want to hold onto what little dignity I have left.

I halt and let him catch up.

“Katsumi…”

Before he is able to say anything further blurt out, “I’m not a girl, okay?”

I receive a stare of utter confusion in return, and in the corner of my eye I glimpse a disapproving frown from Haruki. Whatever.

“Hu?”

“It’s complicated, okay! Just so you know and stuff.”

I’m not telling him about silicon inserts or pills that give you a girl-puberty. Nope not happening. But I need him to know, because… well, just because!!!

He nods with his wide look. “Okay?”

Reaching into his pockets he pulls out two pitch black gems and holds them in my direction—demon hearts, the ones from the ink tigers most likely.

“For you, they’re yours.”

“Why?” I growl.

“You defeated those two demon in like, three seconds. If anyone deserves them then it’s you.”

I cross my arms.

“Oh, well, I had help from Haruki on the first, and you had the second well distracted. And I'm not a poacher."

His voice drops lower almost pleading. “You… saved our lives. Please take them.”

“You would’ve done the same.”

He smirks with a humble jovial confidence.

“Probably. But it wouldn’t have been this elegant.”

I…

Why am I blushing again?

I’m definitely blushing.

Fuck.

I snatch the two gems from his open plam and turn around mumbling, “Thanks.”

I stomp off into the night.

And by the sway of my skirt, I’m probably not doing that in very manly manner.

I’m giving haughty bitch aren’t I?

WHATEVER!!!

Not like I care.

I'm gonna be a girl one day anyway, so it hardly matters.

Hopefully that day is soon, because I can't take this anymore.