I was still shaking off the most recent of Kiritik’s advances by the time my sister and I got home.
Being born female had been a bit of a shock, but not one I hadn’t at least passingly considered the possibility of over the past two lives. And, being non-human, I really didn’t think it was going to be that big of a deal.
Of the worlds I had lived in so far, being born female in this one was certainly better than my last one. Had I been born as a female Uli, I very likely wouldn’t have fared well beyond my creche, and I would have gained practically nothing from it. I don’t think it would have affected the magical part of my life in Argadia—assuming I still could have stumbled into meeting the admin and learning [Mana Manipulation]—but it would have changed just about everything else in it, including the most important bits.
There wasn’t even that much sexual dimorphism between male and female squirrels in this world, at least before they starting altering themselves with the growth skill and Love, and those changes were cultural. The only major fundamental differences, externally, were genitalia, which were mostly covered by fur. At least until the boys reached puberty.
I was actually kind of even glad I wasn’t walking around with a big set of nuts on display.
My problems began shortly thereafter. As a species with such a short lifespan, the squirrels were fairly sexually promiscuous and open. There weren’t marriages, and since the tree gave us everything we needed with so little effort, providing for and raising a litter wasn’t particularly hard on a female. By what would only be a few months old on Earth, the children were basically able to be independent, if they needed to be.
Children still stayed with their mothers beyond that, being cared for while learning about the world and growing to sexual maturity. Then most set off, sometimes leaving the area to explore the length of the branch or even attempting to travel between branches, before eventually claiming an empty burrow or digging a new one.
That was the case for my brothers from my litter, who had long since left. If I were being honest, I was probably overstaying my welcome in my mother’s burrow—incidentally influencing Rukechi to do the same—because she was a kind squirrel lady who I liked being around. I enjoyed the company of her and my sister, and was comfortable there.
Unfortunately, the only constant in life was change.
“Girls, there’s something I need to tell you,” my mother said as we sat down to share a leaf bud for dinner.
Since Rukechi and I were fully grown, our mother wasn’t any bigger than us. The main difference between us was the patagia that she had grown between her arms and legs, a membrane which shimmered with the same iridescence as the leaves of the world-tree. She also had two slender crystal antler spikes growing from her head, which was fairly common for this part of the branch on both males and females, though males tended to grow them larger, like our teacher, Tochiki.
“What’s up?” Rukechi asked around a mouthful of leaf-bud.
“Well… I’m pregnant.”
I stopped myself from shuddering in revulsion and put on a smile. “Congratulations,” I managed to say, while Rukechi expressed more natural excitement and support.
Our burrows weren’t very large, since it was hard to gnaw out a hole in the tree. They were mostly just for sleeping in. Even that wasn’t really necessary after a squirrel’s fur had grown in; burrows were predominantly for nesting in, particularly to protect litters while they were young and bare.
If our mother was going to have another litter, Rukechi and I would have to move out. I couldn’t say I was surprised, since I knew this would come eventually, but it was a bit disappointing. It was also the aspect of being female that I absolutely could not come to terms with.
Once I reached an age that I was able to get pregnant, boys like Kiritik had started propositioning me. That was just how these people lived, so I tried not to take it poorly, at first. We only had a handful of years to breed before we died, after all.
But when I actually imagined becoming pregnant, I found myself viscerally uncomfortable. As the propositioning continued, discomfort grew into outright disgust.
It was part of the reason I hadn’t yet picked up the growth skill yet. So long as I was unchanged, I could feel like I was still a child, like I had before this gender dysphoria started to become an issue for me. It hadn’t stopped the propositioning entirely, but it had limited it to younger males. I wasn’t sure how I would react if some old guy like Tochiki made a pass at me.
My discomfort wasn’t really an issue of attraction. I wasn’t attracted to the squirrels at all, even the female ones, which was similar to how I felt about the Uli as Mali. The Sheowon weren’t quite so unattractive to me, though thankfully, most of the year I could avoid thinking about attraction at all.
In my years living among the Sheowon, and with the visceral intensity of the ruts each breeding season, I had been able to open my mind a bit. I wanted relief and needed companionship, I just didn’t want to leave kids of my own behind in that world. The Sheowon had their own ways of managing the ruts without their population growing out of control. So it wasn’t like I couldn’t fathom being with a male partner now that I was female.
Living on the Mother tree was a peaceful, easy life, and I liked children. I had loved my family with Felris. Knowing any kids I had would have a good life here, I wasn’t opposed to having a family again, in theory. The fact that it could happen at two years old was… very difficult to swallow, but when death came at six or seven years old, I understood that this was a completely different situation from being human.
But being bred, myself? Giving birth? It made me sick to my stomach. It felt absolutely wrong.
It was an incredibly complicated feeling. It forced me to look back on my lives and re-evaluate, particularly the life where I had children.
Felris had, of course, complained about her pregnancies and the general discomfort that came from them, but that was different. She had actively wanted to get pregnant. It wasn’t like I was dismissive of her aches and pains, and I considered myself quite the supportive husband, but I had never truly considered myself in her situation. How could I have? I had always been male, and thought I always would be. To me, having children was about my ability to be a provider, to support them and their mother, and to raise my children to the best of my capabilities. I didn’t have to think all that much about the physical aspect of bringing them into this world.
Unless, of course, I was a reincarnator with [Metasurvival].
I looked down at my current, squirrely body. Was being born female in this world a mistake, or was I just inflexible and unable to adapt? Did other Metasurvivors have this issue? Was this squirming wrongness inside of me a product of my memories, or was it an aspect of my soul itself?
While I might never truly know, at least I wouldn’t be dealing with this particular life for that long. But as I watched my sister hug my pregnant mother, it was clear that my childhood in this life was over, and I needed to figure out how I wanted to live out the rest of my years here.
*
Just a bit away from the Mother’s trunk of our burrow, there was an outgrowth on the branch, a fork which grew upward. I scampered up the incline to the fork, then following the right path. It forked a few more times before I started reaching new growth, though I wasn’t looking for buds.
A squirrel lounged on what was only a twig for the Mother tree, but was still a sizable platform for creatures of our size. He had barely functional patagia and a small rack of antlers, which meant he was either somewhat young or someone who hadn’t spent much time and effort into pursuing his growth. I approached him, standing over him until he opened an eye.
“Oh, hey there, Cheokit,” the squirrel drawled.
“Hi, Dad.”
The squirrel frowned. “I told you, just call me Teotikit.”
I shook my head and lay down beside him, looking up at the twisting branches above and the shifting skies beyond.
No one could call Teotikit an absent father, since they all were. Actually, the fact that I knew my father was better than a lot of other squirrels. Many males moved on after getting a girl pregnant, but my father was lazy. He was actually getting fairly old for a squirrel, and his unimpressive patagia and antlers were due to his lackadaisical attitude toward life. I couldn’t fault him for that, as I wasn’t feeling all that driven, either.
“So, Mom’s pregnant,” I said, breaking the silence.
“Oh, good for her,” he said through a yawn. I waited to see if he would continue, but he just let out a sigh and closed his eyes again.
“Huh. I take it congratulations aren’t in order for you, then.”
“Hmm? Oh, no. Not mine this time.”
I envied my father, in a way. The man was arguably too at peace with himself, though I supposed that his world made that easy for him. Despite the fact that I considered this life a bit of a vacation, I still struggled with the idea that I could just veg like him for years.
Days passed quickly for me after multiple lifetimes of experience, but even still, I wasn’t good at being totally idle. I could meditate to pass the time—and I had been as needed—but I couldn’t just fully laze about for very long.
“I’ve got to move out of the burrow, since she’s going to have another litter,” I told Teotikit. “And… I’m not sure where to go.”
The squirrel opened his eyes properly, and turned his head to look at me. “You haven’t moved out yet?”
I shook my head. “I wasn’t in a rush.”
“No boys you want to have a litter with?” he asked, and while it was an innocent enough question, my disgusted sneer came too quickly to suppress.
“No,” I said after I composed myself.
My father frowned slightly at seeing my reaction. “Well, that’s fine,” he said after a moment. “But that’s usually what keeps people in place. You could still dig a burrow for yourself nearby, if you wanted.”
He turned his gaze back up to the tree, and mine followed.
“But it’s a big tree,” he finally continued. “Lots to see.”
“You think I should leave?”
The older squirrel shrugged. “What’s keeping you?”
“Well, you, for one,” I said. “And Mom. And Rukechi.”
“I won’t be around forever,” he said plainly. “Neither will your mother. Rukechi will probably have a litter of her own, eventually. She has her whole life ahead of her. But so do you. You’ve got to live it for yourself.”
He wasn’t saying anything I didn’t already know, not that I expected much else from a person whose entire life would remain in an age range that would never exceed a single-digit of years.
I had already lived two full lives, both of which resulted in me leaving my home. But both had also seen me return, in some capacity. I hadn’t really cared about home in my first reincarnated life, so jaded from Earth that it took me years to come back around to the idea of family, but then I built a home for both my old and new family. One that I could be proud of, and lived out my days in.
In my next life, despite wanting a home, I couldn’t find peace in the one I was born to, so I fled. In doing so, I found a new home, but even then, I returned to make my original home better. And in the end I would up with two homes I was proud of.
I had no such problems in this life. I had a peaceful home that I liked. I couldn’t really improve it in any substantial way, but it didn’t really need improving. At the same time, if I remained stuck in place, would I be in the way of the lives of the people I loved? My mother had a new litter on the way, and wouldn’t really have time for me. I could help with her kids, my half-siblings, but that wasn’t common for these squirrels, and she hadn’t asked for it. The same would be true for Rukechi, if she had a litter. She might have even already had one if not for me being stuck in place, holding her back.
Unlike my last two lives, if I left—and went far enough to really explore this tree—there would be no coming back home. My squirrel lifespan wasn’t long enough for it, and neither were the lifespans of most of the people I would be coming home for.
For all the ways that I had grown used to being separated from those I cared about, by death and reincarnation, I had grown into a person that depended on tribe and family. I didn’t think that was a bad thing, but perhaps I was holding myself back as a result of that, at least when it came to this life.
Kiritik could go fuck himself, but he was right about one thing: it was time to grow up.
I rolled to my feet. “Thanks, Dad. I guess I’ve got some things to think about.”
He lazily lifted a hand, then it flopped back onto his belly. I chuckled, shook my head, and wandered back the way I came. I still didn’t know exactly what the future held for me, but it was time to shake myself out of this fugue and figure it out.
And it was long past time that I figured out how this world’s energy worked and picked up some new skills.