Debts And Credits

Despite seeming to be of small stature, she was rather heavy as I pulled her arm around my neck and struggled to get her to stand. Looping my left arm around her waist, I flinched as her head lolled onto my shoulder, her breathing slow and even as though she were sleeping.

Left to carry her the few minutes left to my car, my mind began to spin elaborate stories about how she ended up like this- the most prevalent story being that she was abused by a shitty boyfriend and abandoned in the alley. And so, my mind continued spinning tales as I piled her into my car, retrieved my computer bag, drove home, and somehow got her into my condo.

Balancing my weight on the front door, I lethargically dragged her to my couch before setting her down, exhausted. Now in the safety of my own home, I tried once again to wake her up, growing more desperate.

"Miss? Miss??" Shaking her shoulders slightly, I gave up and instead jumped to action with my first aid kit, doing my best to clean her face and bandage the small cuts I could see. Looking at her, I was briefly reminded of sleeping beauty. With her chapped, though rosy lips, sculptured face and long eyelashes- I knew that if she wasn't so beaten up, she'd be very beautiful. Looking at her long yet slender nose, I was reminded of the Greek statues of Athena- that kind of tactical, subverting look. Breaking from my daze, I gently leaned her shoulders forward to tie her tangled hair into a bun so it wouldn't stick to her face, my mind debating whether I should check under her clothes for any other injuries.

Mildly growing uncomfortable, I set her back down as the smell from before fanned from her hair, sweat trickling down my neck as my pulse hammered incoherently. Grabbing a decorative pillow I had tossed to the side, I propped her head up before digging through my bag for my rut medication, a pounding assault beating against my skull. Swallowing the pills in one go, I wet a washcloth and wrung it in the sink before holding it to my forehead, feeling as if I were going to vomit. Taking a deep breath, I set the rag down before returning to the unnamed sleeping beauty, deciding I would look at the bloody wound on her leg which was now ruining my cushions.

Rolling up her right pant leg, I let out a drained breath before cleaning and wrapping the gash in her shin and praying to god she didn't need stitches or have any broken bones. If I looked at her peaceful expression, I was hopeful that she wasn't as badly injured as she seemed, but rolling the pant leg back down, I felt too nauseated to continue treating her, my feet rushing me to the bathroom where I dry-heaved for a few minutes until I calmed down.

Deciding to change out of my now disgusting sweaty clothes, I waited for the water to heat up for a much needed, relaxing shower. Catching a glimpse of myself in the vanity mirror, a lump formed in my throat as another new, unbridled thought sat upon my brow.

I knew what an alpha was, roughly- but when it came to female alphas... there were more than a few things I didn't know. My fingers twitched in nervous curiosity, but the morbid anxiety which crowned me was more dominant as I harshly clasped my hands together and turned away from the mirror. It would be odd for my body to suddenly sprout new body parts in the span of a day, right? Perhaps, because I'm such a late bloomer, nothing will really change in that way...

Yet, somehow, my eyes were fixedly ignoring the lower half of my body as I showered- too scared to find out the truth for myself. After all, wasn't that what made one an alpha regardless of their primary gender? Wasn't it the ability to...

Shaking my head, I quickly finished washing myself before peeking out the bathroom door to see if the mysterious, injured princess sleeping on the sofa had woken up yet. All I was met with was silence as I walked into the living room, so I decided to retreat into my actions rather than my chaotic mind. Getting dressed, I started to make an easy pre-arranged dinner of salmon and broccoli, grateful that everything could be baked together in the oven. As I sat at my dining table, I kept an eye on the girl; ignoring the informational packet which seemed to be melting a hole into the wood of the table.

If I could ignore it for a little longer, and live as if this was all a dream; I would do just that.

So, it was with that sentiment that I opened up my laptop before responding to emails that I had missed since passing out, and working on material which would be useful in the future. All the while, sweat tickled my brow as if I was being intensely stared at by the informational packet; my inner conscious telling me I was being childish. Though I ignored it for as long as I could; the very heat of the room felt as if it were rising, and the weight upon my shoulders only grew more and more crushing with each second until I caved under the pressure of my own responsibility.

Flipping it open to the first page, I felt a heavy, thickness settle in my throat as I was graced with the title 'So You're An Alpha'. Shaking my head, I forced myself to read through the information even though it made my skin crawl.

"At Warner Hospital, we understand that you may have a lot of questions when your child manifests their secondary gender-"

Confused, I flipped back to the front before huffing a dry chuckle to myself.

So the nurse had given me the parental packet? Or perhaps this was all they had, given that most people manifest their genders at 12 years old? I didn't have it in me to be embarrassed, so instead I rubbed my head before pressing on.

"How can I help my child feel less self-conscious about being different? How will their secondary gender affect my child long-term? Are there any serious side-effects to medication? We've tried to provide some answers to those questions in this pamphlet and our doctors can explain your child's condition to you fully.

There are three secondary genders:

Beta is the most common secondary gender, making up about 45% of the population. Betas are described as individuals who do not exhibit omega or alpha traits. For more information on betas, ask your care physician for our 'So You're A Beta' informational packet."

So there's a beta packet too? My heart fumbled in my chest as I took another deep breath, trying to stay in control. Somehow, this whole day felt fake. Between my gender and now finding a woman passed out in an alleyway, it was hard to swallow new information- especially when it felt so threatening. Though I shook my head and continued, each new bit of information spurred new worries and scenarios in my mind.

"Omega is the least common secondary gender, making up about 25% of the population. Omegas are described as individuals who experience heats (See pg. 6). Omegas have the capability to carry offspring no matter their primary gender. For more information on omegas, ask your care physician...." My eyes unfocused as the same thought from before rose to the surface, this time flickering vibrantly. Would Father want me to marry an omega? Would he pressure me to give him alpha grandchildren? With that sentiment, a bitter taste melted on my tongue, and with it was an inkling of resentment.

So this was what he was proud of? Something I couldn't control- something I could never make for myself? My heart throbbed with an aching pang while I struggled to take in a calm breath. Covering my face, I drew in a slow, shaky inhale as I felt the first tears trickle out from the corner of my eyes.

I'm so pathetic.

It was a distant, yet familiar thought. Pressing my fingers into my clenched eyes, I fought against the unfamiliar turmoil which gathered in my veins and hummed in my sinews. This anger- this magnified and wild irritation- perhaps it was what scared me the most. I wasn't usually one to cry, but I could only describe it as horrifying; it was the premonition that I was slowly unbecoming myself. My goals, my lifestyle, my emotions, my thoughts- they were at once undermined and vulnerable. Though I knew if anyone at work could read my thoughts, they would chastise me for being 'an ungrateful alpha'- somehow, I couldn't shake away my dread and anxiety.

Was this event something akin to not wanting an opportunity? The desire not to 'climb the latter' or 'rise up'? Comparing it to phrases which I was intimately familiar with set my mind at ease, my heart deciding I would treat it as nothing more than that. Ultimately, wasn't it my choice to announce to the world if I was an alpha? Wasn't it my choice to decide how I would live?

With that realization, I felt the heavy, thick feeling completely vanish as a new resolve gathered in my veins. Nothing has to change. I can keep living as a beta- and no one will ever know as long as I take my medication.

Peeking at the sleeping girl on my couch, I swallowed the cotton in my throat and felt a drained smile glow on my lips for the first time that long, long day. Somehow, I was reassured that Tuesday, I would go back to work and simply tell anyone who asked that I passed out due to low iron, and even if Mr. Hans had a slim idea, I'm sure that he would respect my wish to keep it secret.

Just like that, I would take back my life and put it back into order: breath by breath, day by day. Clearing my throat, I returned to the packet with the goal of keeping my life as private as I was before.

"Alpha is the second-least common secondary gender, making up about 30% of the population. Alpha's are described as individuals who experience ruts (See pg. 3). Alphas have the capability to generate offspring no matter their primary gender. Alphas..."

I froze as I heard a faint groan echo from the couch- my body springing into action as I quickly filled up a glass with cold water before waiting at her side as she struggled to sit up. A twinge of pity wilted my insides as she hissed painfully before drawing up her shirt, revealing dark, purple bruises.

"That looks painful..." I don't think she had realized I was next to her until she jumped slightly, her head whipping in my direction as if I was a ghost. Nervous, I quickly offered her the glass of water and the kindest smile I could muster.

"Hi! I'm Aisha Yanaka-" Biting back my words, I tried my best to not overwhelm her with the rambles which wanted to pour out of my mouth. "You asked me not to take you to the hospital, so I took you to my home instead."

Making sure to speak slowly and calmly, she nodded before handing me back the empty glass, a mute sigh rolling of her rose lips. For a split second, I waited for her to ask me to get her more water, but her lips seemed completely sealed. Shielding the concerned look which wanted to erupt on my face, I refilled the glass before returning to her side, her eyes following my every movement.

"If there's someone you would like me to call, I will gladly do so..." Those words did little to incite a reaction on her face, and it only made my mind flourish with more questions. How old are you? What's your name? What happened to you that you've been beaten up this badly? Why don't you want to go to the hospital?

But, keeping a relaxed expression, I kept them to myself.

"Would you like to take a shower? I have my first aid kit in the bathroom, if you want to take care of the rest yourself."

As I said the words 'the rest' I saw, for the first time, an emotion flicker across her face as she tightly clasped the glass, her knuckles turning white. Eager to fix my wording, I got up and returned to the kitchen to give her some space- sure that she was uncomfortable around me. Facing my back to her, I pretended to be checking on the oven.

"I only patched up the gash on your leg because I didn't want to be invasive. After your shower, dinner will be ready..." Wetting my throat, I risked a peek back to her as she slowly rose from the couch- timid and silent.

"Do you like salmon and vegetables?"

Finally, for the first time since waking up, she looked me in the face. Nodding her head, she retreated towards the bathroom before closing the door behind her, the water starting up. For a few moments, my body felt as if it had turned to stone, and shortly after, had crumbled.

Meekly wiping away a nonexistent tear, I had only one prominent thing on my mind, and it was simple:

How could someone be so pretty despite being wounded? It was like an actor from a superhero action movie. Sighing, I bit my nail in childish envy.

How unfair.