Role

Imagine living your entire life being forced to be the opposite gender. The number of restrictions overflowing is unthinkable. Sometimes you'd be forced to wear clothing that you didn't like, or you'd spend your days with the people you didn't want to be with. To hear my family force their ideals, speak those exact words to condemn my gender, and toss it away just because they wanted a daughter was cruel and hurtful. It gave me no opportunity to be who I wanted to be or think what I wanted to think. Everything was already laid out for me, and I just had to accept it.

There would be many times when I would spend time with my family shopping with them, playing with some friends from school, or just playing with my toys at home. But every time I wanted to do something the way I wanted, my mother and father would always say, "No, Chiaki. We're shopping for dresses that'll look great on you. We want you to play with the other girls. We want you to play with dollhouses and makeup sets."

But I never chose to be a girl. I may have looked like one, but it didn't stop me from wanting to be a man. I wanted to wear men's fashion jackets and jeans, and I wanted to play basketball with friends, and I wanted to play with action figures like Galaxyman. But as a five-year-old child, I didn't have much say in the matter. I just had to live with the fact that my family never wanted a son in the family. They've always wanted a daughter, and they went to galvanic heights to ensure that was the case.

When I was seven, my family brought me into the hospital and forced a lead surgeon to proceed with a sex reassignment surgery that would remove my genitals, which would transform me into a female. I still remember the echoes of the yells and screams my mother and father would toss at the doctors for disagreeing with the circumstances. I was trapped in a dark hallway forced to wear a shaggy hospital gown nearly torn to pieces from previous patients. It felt like I was in a mental hospital or an asylum for that matter because I was going insane from the pressure that my parents placed upon me.

Why? Why couldn't they just accept that no matter what happened, I would never be their daughter no matter how much they wanted it? Why not make another daughter? Did they not want to risk having another son?

What's wrong with me?

But that night, the lead surgeon saved my life. He denied my family's request for me to have sex reassignment surgery and we were sent back home. I could remember the surgeon called my family delusional and demanding without hesitation or clarity on their wishes or needs. It was true. They never listened to me, and they never will. But because they were called such negative things by the doctors, I was the one to blame and took the punishment for it.

Later that night, I remember having my hair dragged against my own will and tossed on the garage floor like garbage. My hands and feet were covered in cement and dirt built up over the years. The cigarette ashes that my father would carelessly toss on the garage floor also stuck to my fingers and entered under my fingernails. Once again, I was tossed into another dark place with no glimpse of light to shelter the bitterness of my hollow environment.

"We don't want you anymore, Chiaki." My mother firmly stated.

"Look at how disgusting you are, boy," My father glanced down at me with such evil intent. His eyes were like the demons of my hell calling for me, dragging me down into the abyss with them to seal me there for eternity. "If only you had listened to us. The only one who's delusional is you for failing to understand what we want. Now that we'll never have the chance to change you, you're nothing to us."

Those were all just words. I could take them, but I wasn't sure if they could. I locked myself in my room that night without eating a single morsel of food. I wondered when it would be time to move on from their desires of having a daughter, but my hopes and dreams for them to love me the way I was born failed that night. I concluded that there was absolutely no alternative solution to escape their beliefs.

That same night, I sat on my chair and wrote endlessly in a journal that my family purchased for me in the past. I wrote about all the things that they've done, all of the lies and desires that they pushed upon me, and all of the places that I've been that mimicked prisons or insane asylums of being told that I couldn't do this or that. I had no control over anything, and I wanted to make sure I wrote that down.

After staying in that same room for days, my uncle decided to come and visit on the fourth day. The savior of my dreams finally arrived. Because the walls in my room were paper-thin, I could press my ears against the cold walls and listen from the opposing side of the room, which was the living room. My uncle decided to explore the house and accidentally stumbled across my room while I pretended to be asleep. He took notice of all the feminine items there: makeup kits, dolls held in their ornamental dollhouses, pink plaster wallpaper almost torn to shreds, white fluffy stuffed animals, and pink writing utensils on my desk. Because I knew he was soaking in the environment and judging me based on my false femininity, I made a run for the bathroom by dashing beside him. I locked myself in there for as long as a half-hour before I exited. My uncle wasn't in my room anymore, and neither were my written journals.

I locked the door to my room and placed my ear against the paper-thin walls to eavesdrop on my family's conversation with my uncle. Because my journals were missing, they must have had something to do with it.

"Is this all true? Is what your son wrote in these journals all true? Are you forcing him to become a woman just because you couldn't give birth to a daughter?" My uncle's voice stormed through my family's ears in such unheeded and explicit rage. "What kind of mother and father are you? What kind of brother are you? Chiaki doesn't deserve to be treated this way. He should come live with me instead!"

Yes... yes... yes. Please, come take me away from this prison. I'm tired of living my life as a lie. Just come take me away. Anyone.

Seconds after their conversation volume increased, I heard footsteps rushing towards my room. With one menacing and impactful force, my father kicked my room's door down. Several wooden shards and splinters launched themselves at my arms with the repercussions of my father's kick. My arm bled after the splinters made contact with my arm, but my father didn't seem to mind. He dragged my hair in the same manner as I was taken to the garage. They were all in the same manner that I had been used to in the past when something didn't go their way. There was nothing capable of severing the connection between my father's hand and my hair, until now.

My uncle slapped my father's hand away and shoved him against a wall. He grabbed me and proceeded to enter through the entrance of my house's doorway. Before he left with me, he stopped by the door and threatened my father to not come any closer as my mother watched the horror of it all. Otherwise, he would kill him.

The night I found myself at my uncle's establishment was a breath of heavenly air. I could sense my freedom as a little boy restoring. My uncle offered to let me stay with his daughter. But after seeing his daughter's room, the memories of what I was chosen to be from my family returned to me. I collapsed on the floor and froze from all those moments as my uncle watched. He kneeled and patted my head with a smile, reassuring me that everything was going to be okay.

"No, Chiaki," He said. "You don't have to be like my daughter. You can be who you want to be. Just the way you are."

But who was I? I've lived my entire life searching for that same answer, but every time I feel like I've concluded what I wanted to be, my family would always stop me in my tracks and force their ideals upon me. I feared it was too late. There would have to be major reestablishments of rules and daily activities that would have to hammer my brain until I understood who I was. Luckily, my uncle was ready to make that drastic change, and my aunt was also ready to support that transformation.

I knew it would be time for a drastic change the moment my uncle decided for me that I would switch elementary schools. Instead of attending Ki Genki Elementary, I began a new life at Seiya Elementary. This time, I was given clothes and items that befit my style, and I wore them with confidence and appreciation of the freedom I obtained. There would be some instances where students would call me feminine based on my appearance, but I didn't let it bother me too much. Overall, after a few years, I began to grow much more comfortable with my environment.

This all drastically changed when my uncle suddenly received a new job that gave him unexplainable riches and wealth. Suddenly, he began receiving large amounts of money from some kind of job I had never heard of called stock investing and trading. There was this one particular company that he invested in called Polycyclone Industries; it was a company that he would never stop talking about to my aunt. But because of his gradual investment in the company, he became one of the richest men in Asahikawa.

Not only this, but he would come up with such strange methods to maintain his wealth. He would wear these abnormally large bodysuits that he called nanosuits and fly home from work. He became a regular employee at Polycyclone Industries after actually being hired there, and he was able to acquire their inventions and technology to bring them home. I started to get interested in the parts he brought home, and I would examine them and take them apart. My uncle approved of it, of course. He had surplus amounts of these nanosuits, and they would be stacked in every corner of the household.

Of course, I had to keep this hobby a secret when I was in middle school. But that didn't stop me from being addicted to taking apart the machinery and learning about it. I finally discovered a hobby of my own that I dedicated my time to, and my uncle appreciated it because it was a big help for his work at Polycyclone. I became known as some nerdy technophile at school, and I did a great job of hiding it from people.

But I had never known the repercussions and consequences of acquiring and maintaining such wealth. My uncle started coming home late, and when he would come home, he would be drunk or jet-lagged out of his mind. Eventually, my aunt divorced him and took his daughter with her; it was just me and him afterward while I was in Seiya Middle School.

There was this boy that I hadn't met in one of my classes, but he always had such a look on his face that echoed loneliness and sorrow. The more I looked at him, the more I wanted to open up to him; but the thing was, he would always spend time with the school bullies. One of the most intimidating students, Sezan Fuma, was greatly feared even by school personnel; he would be impossible to get through with his intimidating aura.

But still... it didn't stop me from wanting to get close to that boy.

It was a cold and breezy morning during one of our physical education classes. And of course, with all physical education courses came the infamous mile run. I was in the same class with that boy and he would run more than just a mile, which surprised me. He was such a smart and athletic student that I wanted to get to know him. I wasn't envious of him; I was inspired. I wasn't hesitant; I was yearning.

In the last ten minutes where the mile cooldown period was taking place, I caught him sitting down on one of the metal bleachers by himself, drinking water from a plastic bottle. He was perspiring as he had just come out of an overly hot shower, but made out of dried sweat. He didn't catch my presence until I climbed up with him and sat beside him.

"What?" He asked me without batting a single eye.

I placed my finger on my cheek and peeked into his eyes. It was nearly impossible for me to read them, but I knew that he had this enveloping feeling of sorrow in his heart. I knew something was bothering him. No student in the school trained as hard as he did, achieved top grades as he did, or exercised as much as he did. I wanted to know his secret, and what drove him to such stupendous heights of academic and athletic excellence.

"What's your secret?" I asked him, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. "Every day I see you working out in some way. You're always at the top of our class and you push yourself every day. How do you do it?"

"What's it to you?" He replied with a belligerent scoff and attitude.

"I was just thinking I could understand what goes through your mind when you work so hard. I want to have the same multiskilled prowess as you," I explained even further. His face was so steadfast, but also in pain. His eyes were slim, and his eyebrows were stout. "Well... I was so interested because you always spend time around Sezan Fuma and his friends."

"So what...?" The boy turned to me with a sniveling expression, as if he was about to shove me off of the bleachers. But I wasn't afraid. I had been used to such daunting movements from my family, after all. "What, do you like me or something?"

"Maybe," I said, trying to mess with his emotions as if I was a female. "What do you say to that?"

"That's ridiculous," The boy said, tossing his plastic bottle into a nearby garbage pail like shooting a basketball. "Just because you think I'm outstanding doesn't mean I am. That could mean a lot more than you think. Don't go judging people like that. It's fucked up."

"But I'm not judging, am I?" I clarified. "Besides, if you thought I liked you, you'd feel stupid if I told you I was a boy."

"W-What?" The boy's eyes widened like a vampire seeking blood for fuel. He scooted back from his seat so he could get a better look at my appearance. I caught him looking down at my chest, and noticed I didn't have breasts as a female would. I will admit, my short poofy hair and style of clothing made it almost seem like I was a tomboy. "D-Don't be ridiculous. I've always thought you were a girl." He continued.

"I get that a lot," I said. "But don't worry, I don't like you that way. I'm just... interested in you."

"Isn't that the same fucking thing?"

"Not really."

The boy scoffed and placed his elbows on his knees, pondering about everything that had just occurred. I watched his eyes shift dramatically from his usual somber state to something much more uplifting than normal. Witnessing this flustered and bewildered side of him made me chuckle a bit, I will admit. It was the first time I had ever enjoyed speaking to someone, even though that person was known as an unreputable and villainous bully.

"So, you want to know how I'm able to achieve so well in school?" He asked me, smirking as if I didn't want to hear the answer. "If you know the truth, then you're going to be entering a long-term commitment. My friends and I are going to have to keep tabs on you to make sure you don't tell anyone. Are you willing to risk that?"

"Yep," I immediately told him without a fear in the world. I wasn't really afraid of anything anymore. With a numb mind and heart, most fear passes off as some kind of apparition that doesn't exist.

"Why are you so confident? Man, you're weird. You're willing to risk your future just to know how I do so well in school? There's no going back. Are you sure?" The boy asked me with genuinely concerned eyes.

I nodded. "Yes. There's not much of a future for me anyway," I explained. "I might as well find out. I have nothing to lose."

The boy stopped and glanced in front of his view, watching a soccer game unfold during physical education class. He turned his head around and confessed his secret. "I'm a Yakuza member. I have to do well academically so the school and my parents aren't suspicious. I have to work out and exercise so I'm fit and in top shape for training and missions. I head to the underground every day after school and I fight others to become to the best of the best."

"Ooh, interesting," I stated. His method of becoming smarter and well-built was something I wasn't truly expecting. "Does this mean... if I were to join you, would I become the same as you?"

The boy laughed aloud, slapping his knee in hysteria. "You? Join the Yakuza? What kind of fucking idea is that? You don't even look like a man, let alone some guy that's willing to spill blood to become the best of the best. You better just run along and go back to playing with your dolls."

"Maybe I don't look like a man, but weren't you the one who told me not to judge? Just because you think I look like a girl doesn't mean I am," I quoted his same words back as I scooted in closer to his face to appear more menacing. Not sure if it had the same effect in the end. "Don't go judging people like that. It's fucked up." I repeated.

"Haha, okay, whatever you say," The boy sarcastically remarked, minding his business afterward.

"Maybe you guys need brains in your group," I gladly offered. "I've been studying technology for quite a while. I know some tools and weapons you guys might be able to use to get an advantage. If I join, that is. Otherwise, you guys get nada."

"Man, you're serious about this, aren't you?" The boy chuckled and raised his hand out. "Fine, you win. Join us then, but don't come crying to me and Sez if you pussy out. I'm Ryo Nakai."

I shook Ryo's sweaty hand with happiness, believing I could gain the same intellectual and athletic abilities as he could. But deep down, I wanted to cure his loneliness. I wanted to get closer to him to help him recover because I know my uncle would have done the same thing to save me from my family. I didn't want someone as impressive as Ryo to be controlled by something he didn't want to be controlled by. I went into his life, believing I could change him and make him into a much happier person.

"I'm Chiaki Sasaku," I introduced. "It's nice to meet you, Nakai-senpai."

"Ew, don't fucking call me that cringe shit," Ryo slapped my hand away. "Now that you're in the Yakuza, you can't call us or anyone for that matter that name. Once you meet Sez and the others, you need to watch your mouth and make sure you're in it to win it."

"But what if I want to?" I suggested, wanting to be different in his life. Perhaps there was a hidden bubbly personality underneath the depths of my heart that wanted him to open up in a joking manner. The establishment of my enlightening personality could cause him to break his inner shell and confess his sadness. "Maybe... just senpai, then? Ryo-senpai?"

"Stop fucking calling me Senpai, how about that?" Ryo exclaimed, covering his ears.

"No." I denied.

"Does anything get through to your head?" He asked me. "Don't you have any friends? Are you seriously this stubborn and persistent?"

"I am. But that doesn't change anything. I'm going to call you Senpai, no matter what happens."

Ryo sighed with extreme denial. "Fine, whatever. Just don't call me that shit in front of Sez and the others. Got it?"

I smiled with pleasure. "Got it." I declared.

I shook his hand once more, solidifying my bond with him so I could become closer to him. I wanted to decipher his true feelings about the world and understand why he chose the path to becoming a Yakuza. Just like how I was played for a fool and treated like the daughter of the family, I wanted to understand people's intentions and feelings, and to decode them as if they were tiny microscopic chips like those nanosuits I examined from my uncle's belongings. I found human interaction so unbelievably interesting that he piqued my interest the most. And it had been my lifetime goal to find out who exactly he was, no holds barred with full honesty.

Now, it seems like I won't have to look very far.