Chapter Text
Kato Haru would give anything to be anywhere other than on the way to her aunt’s house. Summer break was here, and instead of spending it at the mall with one of her rich friend’s black cards, she was stuck in the middle of Shit Town with her aunt, who she’d never even seen before. All because of her parents’ vacation. What about her vacation?
“It’s just for a week, Haru.” Her mom reminded her during the drive. She was well aware that she was sulking; being a “sourpuss” as her mom would say. It probably didn’t make her much more confident that she was old enough to be left home alone, but she couldn’t stop pouting now or she’d think everything was fine. And everything was not fine. Far from it.
“You know Shen is going to Hong Kong?” It was probably the fifth time that day that she’d brought it up. “He was going to take me!” Haru was getting on her mother’s nerves, if the twitch in her eyebrow was anything to go by.
“For the last time Haru, you are not traveling unsupervised with that Ricky boy. It’s never gonna happen.”
Haru suppressed the urge to scream.
“God mom, Ricky’s just a friend, he’s not even into me like that.” Haru sighed, slumping downwards in the passenger seat before mumbling, “nobody is.”
She tried not to lean into the touch when her mother softly petted her shaggy shoulder length hair.
“I’m sorry love. Just a week, then you’ll be back home. Ricky can always take you another time, that kid has more money than anyone should have at that age.” She muttered the last part through gritted teeth. Haru could feel herself brightening up. Maybe she could actually go to a different country with Shen, wear YSL and Louis Vuitton and maybe Shen would want her then and they would go to a fancy hotel and–
“Of course your father would have to go with you,” came the woman’s quick remark. Haru growled, crossing her arms. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother grin warmly. “You’re like a little spoiled puppy sometimes, you know that?"
Haru leaned her face against the window, gazing forlornly as the trees whizzed by. She didn’t want to be a cute puppy anymore. She wanted to be a woman, a real one like her mother, all curves in the places where they mattered. Instead, Haru was stuck with the same tits she’d had since she was thirteen, practically flat chested with awful hip dips that never went away despite the endless workout tutorials she followed. The estrogen felt pointless. Haru sighed again, watching her breath fog up the glass. At least she had her vagina. Even though it wasn’t her choice, she wasn’t old enough to have one, she was somewhat grateful to the doctors for the surgery, for assigning this identity to her. It felt right. Mostly.
Haru glanced over at her mother, hands firm yet gentle on the steering wheel. Her lipstick and long hair didn’t look stupid on her. She wore womanhood like she knew it belonged to her. Her seatbelt stretched over the curve of her breasts while Haru’s was slack across her flat chest. They should’ve made her a boy, left the penis between her legs and raised her as a man. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so out of place in this body.
“Well, we’re here, love. I have to rush to the airport so tell your aunt hi for me, okay?” This was it. One week. Haru tried to calm her beating heart. She could make it through five days, right? Her panic must have shown on her face when she turned to her mother because her eyebrows knit and she cradled her face in her hands.
“Hey girl, it’s gonna be okay. Your Aunt Muti is my best friend, even closer than a sister. She’s gonna love you, just like I do.” Haru smiled weakly as her mother patted her cheeks gently, and reluctantly opened the car door.
“You know, she’s like you. Different.” Haru paused, one foot on the ground with her other knee bent on the car seat. She couldn’t say she liked the word. She didn’t want to be different, she wanted to be like Shen’s hot model friends, perfect girls who didn’t grapple with their intersex identity, didn’t feel like there was a phantom boy part of them that they couldn’t cut off, despite the doctors discarding that part. But if Aunt Muti could relate, if she really was different, like her well meaning mother had said…
“Okay, mom. I’ll see you in a week.” Haru grabbed hold of her mini suitcase and stepped fully out of the car, gripping the legs of her too long jeans to keep them off the ground.
“Yeah? You’ll be okay sweetie?” Haru gave a wry smile to her mother’s concerned face.
“Yeah, mom, I’ll be fine, just bored out of my mind.” Her mother tsked.
“I’m sure your aunt has plenty of fun things to do and stories to share. Just try not to be–”
“A sourpuss,” Haru finished, well acquainted with this conversation. “Yeah, yeah, now go already before you’re late.” The engine started up again and just before she drove off, her mother rolled the window down, thrusting a pink teddy bear into her arms.
“Mom!” Haru whined. She was hoping she’d forget about that.
“It’s okay to still play with toys, Haru.” The car began pulling out of the driveway. Haru sullenly waved goodbye. “You’re the one who wanted to bring it anyway!” Her mother’s voice sang as she left, rumbling into the distance and taking all familiarity away with her. Tears welled up in her eyes as Haru stared at the stuffed animal in her arms. At least this was familiar. If Haru was honest, she would’ve chased after the car if Miss Bubblegum had been forgotten.
The path to Aunt Muti’s house was cobbled and littered with the leaves of autumn. The house itself looked as unremarkable as Haru anticipated, but at least it looked big enough. Whatever. She was still going to pout.
Her aunt opened the door before she could ring the doorbell, and Haru froze as her face came into view.
“You’re finally here!” A bright smile danced across her glossy, plump lips, tinted red and stretched wide to display her pearly teeth. Haru struggled to keep her face downturned in her presence. She was quite possibly the most gorgeous woman she’d ever seen.
“Well come on in darling!” Haru found herself ushered into her home with gentle arms enveloping her in a hug. The swell of the older woman’s breasts pressed against Haru’s chest, making her feel hot all over. She instantly maneuvered herself out of her grasp, looking down at the floor. Certainly her aunt’s touch shouldn’t be evoking such weird feelings. It never felt like that when her mom hugged her. Haru shuddered just thinking about it.
“Oh don't make that face." Aunt Wumuti cooed, squishing Haru's face in her hands, her grip surprisingly strong. "I know, you miss home and your friends but I promise," Wumuti paused, smoothing her hands down Haru's arms with a warm smile, "I'll try my best to make this week fun for you, okay?" Haru kept her face downturned, staring at a spot on the colorfully patterned carpet as she pouted. She only felt a little bit bad when Aunt Wumuti sighed softly, her stomach turning when she found herself chasing the warmth of her hands on her skin again.
"Well," Aunt Wumuti clapped once, a cheerful smile on her face again, "you must have yourself a bath, I've got it all set up for you already."
The tub in the bathroom is ridiculously large and round and filled with perfectly warm water and bubbles, lavender streaks bleeding into the soap from the bath bomb floating along the surface. Stripping and sinking into its warmth, Haru can't recall ever having such a lavish bath in her life. She sunk deeper, tipping her head back and closed her eyes, her mind blissfully empty for once. For a while there was no sound other than the quiet popping of soap bubbles against her skin, until a new sound filtered into her unconscious. Haru sat up slowly, lukewarm water sloshing around her as she craned her neck to discern the noise. It was quiet enough that she could've just ignored it, but the longer it went on, the more curious Haru got.
Bottom lip caught between her teeth, Haru hobbled out of the bath, shivering as she wrapped a towel around her body that was still covered in soap suds, too eager to rinse off properly. Softly, she trailed wet slipper-prints down the hallway and towards the room where the source of the sound drifted from, that feeling in her tummy growing stranger and stronger as the noises increased in volume. Freezing in her tracks, Haru gasped and brought a hand to her mouth. This was Aunt Muti's room, as evidenced by her comfortable presence in it, so comfortable that she was nearly naked on her recliner, save for a sheer robe and lacy panties. A hand moved lazily under her panties, touching herself in ways that had Wumuti's mouth falling open in beautifully musical noises, her eyes fluttering closed. Hypnotized by the undulating movements of her hips, Haru stayed rooted to her spot behind the cracked open door. Shame coursed through her veins. Aunt Muti was family, and Haru was pretty sure family didn't stare at each other's breasts like this. But it was all Haru could do, transfixed by the way Wumuti reached one hand up to caress them. They weren't like big and voluptuous like her mom's, but they were easily visible, plum sized and supple, with just enough flesh to spill a tiny bit between her fingers where she squeezed them. Subconsciously, Haru drew a hand to her own breast but retreated upon remembering how small hers were. Surely it couldn't feel that good, right?
Haru squinted, eyes picking up on the movement of Aunt Muti's mouth. She strained as hard as she could but she couldn't pick up what she was saying. I shouldn't care. Whatever Aunt Muti's was doing or saying, it clearly wasn't for Haru's eyes or ears – nevermind that she left the door cracked open. Haru lingered for several long moments, her breath growing quicker and heavier as she watched Wumuti caress herself. The movements of her hand inadvertently slipped her panties to the side, the exposure of her aunt's pussy snapping Haru out of it as she silently closed the door, pattering back to the bath to rinse off properly.
Under the torrent of water from the shower head, Haru regarded her naked form wiyh a frown etched into her features. Tentatively, she tried to touch herself, mimicking her aunt's earlier ministrations. She squeezed and caressed and massaged but no matter what, it didn't elicit any of the sounds Wumuti made. Belatedly, Haru realized she was crying, big drops of salty tears mixing with the warm water. It felt so wrong, touching herself this intimately, and Haru just knew it was because she was wrong. She didn't have the breasts or the hips or the figure that would encourage anyone else to touch her this way, let alone herself. Haru dropped her hands from her chest like it hurt to touch, because it did, a deep, uncomfortably familiar ache taking root inside her until she felt like clawing out of her body, as if her skin didn't lay right over her bones. Her breaths came rapid and choked, her vision clouding at the edges as water trickled into her eyes. All of a sudden it felt too much, the feeling of her skin touching where the insides of her arms met the barely there curve of her chest, her wet hair sticking to the back of her neck. It felt like she was taking too big breaths, like she was sucking all the air out of the world and it was going to run out and she was going to die.
Haru could barely hear Aunt Muti's voice over the ringing in her ears.
"Haru, dear, are you almost done in there?"
Between big, wheezing gasps, Haru managed to stutter out a response of "I'm coming!"
"Haru, are you alright?" Wumuti's voice turned concerned, and suddenly Haru remembered she left the door unlocked, and she was very afraid her aunt was going to walk in, her disapproving eyes ogling at her. With a shuddering breath, Haru collected herself, her anxiety over making sure Aunt Muti didn't see her like this overriding the sheer discomfort and panic over her body.
"I'm fine, I'll be right out, I'm just getting dressed." Haru's voice remained surprisingly even as she wobbled out of the tub.
"Do you have clothes in there?" Shit. As if Wumuti knew, her next words were to "hold on" and "I'll get you something babygirl". Haru's cheeks colored and she stood, too shell shocked by the easy pet name to remember to tell her aunt where her clothes were. Babygirl. Her mother seldom ever called her that, always walking on self made eggshells because she thought maybe Haru didn't want gendered terms. As if all Haru hadn't wanted to be was a girl.
The seconds ticked by and Haru's cheeks were still glowing when Wumuti returned with a pink striped pajama set.
"I looked through your clothes and," Wumuti paused as if she'd finished her sentence, an oddly shy smile playing on her lips. Haru tightened the towel closer to her body, tentatively reaching for the clothes.
"But these aren't mine," Haru said in bewilderment. Aunt Muti moved her hands like she was shooing Haru's confusion away.
"I figured these would suit you more."
"So you're saying my style sucks ass." Haru felt a bit of glee enter her as she watched her aunt's eyebrows jump all the way to the top of her head, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find words.
"No, I didn't mean–" Aunt Muti seemed genuinely distressed. Haru had to bite back a giggle. The word cute replayed in her mind too many times to be normal.
"I was joking," Haru confessed, and took what she presumed were Wumuti's clothes properly in her hands.
"Don't scare me like that," Wumuti sighed, but there was a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. It made Haru feel warm inside. "Get dressed and we'll have dinner. I made meatloaf?" Aunt Muti framed it as a question, her shoulders rising up in anticipation of Haru's disapproval. As much as Haru had wanted to give her trouble, the woman was just too sweet. And pretty, really pretty, like wow, holy shit look at those–
Haru caught herself before she ogled Aunt Muti's tits any further. "Meatloaf is nice, thanks."
Within Aunt Muti's sleep clothes Haru found her own underwear, and she couldn't decide if she was relieved or disappointed about it.