Chapter 6: 0x05: Kuraokami

Tomorrow is just like any other day, of course. The same classes, the same people. No matter if you might have other thoughts in mind, no matter if it’s hard to not think more about your beautiful prosthetic designs. No matter if you want to rush home and work on it more, like every moment you don’t is a moment wasted. It’s fine, it’s the normal reaction, to be this excited about a project, right?

It’s okay, though. This morning’s Spaceflight is a huge gimmie, as classes go, so you’re free to focus on whatever you like. You’re mostly taking it every year for academic purposes; it’ll help your university applications when you make them. Annoying, but it is what it is; you’re pretty used to it by now, having outpaced your STEM classes since elementary.

But it’s not a bad class. Not because you learn a lot in it (you’ve read and worked way too far ahead of the class), nor because it’s easy (you prefer an intellectual challenge), but because of the teacher. Her passion, her love of the subject, her bravery, and of course…

“The human body is not adapted to space, but there are advantages. The JAXA has flown demonstration robots capable of maneuvering and attitude control like a human, using their limbs in accordance with Newton’s third law, without expending propellant; these robots are not dissimilar to the UGVs used in war today! Of course, that’s no replacement for getting humans into space – certainly, we can’t colonize space with machines alone. Machines, well…” Nabeshima-sensei smiles and bows nervously to her students. “They can’t replace a human soul, right? Ah – but not in, um, I mean, machines can have a soul too! But it’s, ah, different, one is just a drone and the other…”

her far too gentle personality.

Everyone in the class starts snickering, except for you. You, you just smile to yourself and appreciate Nabeshima Shiori’s vision…no matter if she’s not the best at delivering it.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we didn’t need to travel through space with proxies and robots,” you whisper to yourself as you fold up a piece of paper. You know exactly what she means, after all.

“A-anyway! Getting humans into space reliably has proven an enduring challenge. Even a century after Yuri Gagarin flew into space, it’s a big challenge! For instance, if we consider reusable spaceflight systems…” Your teacher draws on her smartboard, bringing up different file photos. “A spaceplane might seem quite normal today, for relative values of ‘normal’, but it took a very long time to develop them in a usable capacity. For instance, there’s the Space Shuttle developed by the United States of America. Envisioned as making space travel cheaper and more routine, the challenges of spaceflight proved to be anything but. For instance, ah…”

As she so often does, Nabeshima-sensei stumbles over her words, and the tittering already starts, which only makes her all the more nervous.

Just another day for Nabeshima Shiori, better known as ‘Nabeshima-sensei’ to the student body. But really, you can kind of understand why everyone teases her, but at the same time…you really, really can’t.

You smile, and toss your paper airplane over toward Nabeshima-sensei, the thing landing in her hair with your pinpoint throw.

“Ack!”

“…you were going to tell us about reentry,” you say, as Nabeshima-sensei pulls the plane out of her hair.

“Ah, of course!” She smiles, and without a beat, continues on her lecture. “Dealing with the heat of reentry was perhaps the biggest challenge of creating a Space Transportation System…”

You’re different from the others, after all.

You know that Nabeshima-sensei was the ‘golden girl’ of her own classes, a lot like you are right now. You know she’s brilliant. You know she’s honestly kind of amazing – she worked hard to become a teacher, and even left her country behind to accomplish her dreams. She even got to teach here at Pedersen – a school so fancy you somehow have school uniforms in the goddamned late Reiwa era. And most of all, you know that spaceflight is a passion for her, as much as it is for you.

But it’s frustrating, isn’t it?

Even at an elite school like Pedersen – no, especially at such a school – people have given up on the dream of outer space. Humans are made for Earth, so let’s quietly use the planet up until we die, right? At least the Sunset types are honest with themselves. The people who associate any kind of spaceflight with the ghost of American imperialism? Idiots. Footholds in the vastness of space aren’t the same as subjugating a native population for profit and manifest destiny.

Tch. What’s next? Can’t save a species from an asteroid because of the Prime Directive? Morons and reprobates, the lot of them.

And people are willing to trample over her for an accent? It’s not like her English is bad, even! God, it’s like your fellow students have…mmf…have no taste ????

You squirm happily in your seat as Nabeshima-sensei continues, in secret, far enough that no one will notice – this is the only class you sit so far back in normally, so thank fuck – as your new tail once more gets a mind of its own. Nabeshima-sensei is making it excited, and why wouldn’t she?

Of course you didn’t take it off.

Of course you couldn’t take it off.

It’d be like removing your arm or leg. You’d only do it to replace it with something…nnh…something better ????

Where else to hide it during school but inside you? It’s so easy, too. The metamaterials coating it are absolutely perfect for filling you up. The only issue is that it has a mind of its own sometimes, but…who cares? It just makes it all the more fun ????

Nabeshima-sensei is…mmm…she’s beautiful. No wonder it’s so excited. If only she had the strength to back it all up…

---

“Ah, Richard? Could we, perhaps, have a word?”

(You know, you’re getting awfully tired of hearing that name.)

You turn around in the doorway as you try to leave class, Nabeshima-sensei tugging at her braid as she averts her gaze – as if she’s apologising for trying to discipline you. It’s weird having a teacher so much shorter than you, on some level. Honestly, you’d hardly believe there was a gap in your age like this. As disgusting as the idea is, Nabeshima-sensei really is all so much the ‘yamato nadeshiko’…

“Um, I know your marks are brilliant, of course, Richard. There’s no mistaking that, but…” She fidgets, she averts her gaze. So scared.

Normally, you would just play it off. You’re not brave enough to say what really lies in your heart, to a teacher no less. She never escalates it, and she never stops you, so it’s not worth the trouble. It’s not like she would listen to the truth, after all.

But you can feel your tail, squirming inside you. You know you’re better than ordinary humans. That like Nabeshima-sensei can say when she’s so excited and passionate, you can feel your consciousness expanding through space…

“So, why me?”

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“Eeh?”

“Why just me, Nabeshima-sensei? It’s not like I’m the only one who does this stuff with you. Hell, there’s a lot of people who have done worse.” You shrug and smirk. “Without me, you’d never get through your lectures on time, right?” You have to admit it’s a stressful situation, so helping her along is nice – in your own way, of course.

“It’s still no good, Richard…” Nabeshima-sensei can’t even hold your gaze. “It’s worrying. If you keep doing things like this, it might affect your prospects in the future!”

“And you’re not concerned about me following the rules? Or your own self?”

You can’t stand it.

At least Windam has backbone when it comes to you. At least he can say what he means. And at least, in his writing, he can show his true self. Nabeshima-sensei is worse. She’s a Showa girl in a Reiwa world – someone to look pretty and do as she’s told. Does she want that? Is that really what she came to Southern Sun to be? Could someone who dreams of outer space really be so weighed down by the gravity of Earth’s history, by disgusting men who are content to drown in carbon until the seas boil rather than reach beyond their frail and fleshy bodies and transcend humanity?

You can’t believe that. You won’t believe that. Surely, somewhere within her soul, she wants to lash out. She wants to flourish within the stars. She wants more than she’s been given, than she’s been allowed to grasp.

(And within your soul, too, something is straining to escape, already reshaping the very way you think…)

“Ah, one moment.” An insistently vibrating watch is tapped, as Nabeshima-sensei no doubt checks some texts. “It’s my fiancé…”

“Is he telling you you’re wearing too much makeup again?” you say, bluntly. “Or shitting on your friends? Calling you an ‘otaku’? Come on, he even says you’ll end up a ‘Christmas cake’ like it’s the goddamned Showa era.”

“Richard!” Nabeshima-sensei finally raises her voice in anger. “You can’t…don’t just pry into my private life! You shouldn’t even be looking at such things!”

“Don’t tell me you’re okay with that guy. You really want to be stuck in his shadow?”

Nabeshima-sensei quickly goes back to averting her gaze. “It’s…a matter between adults, Richard. You’ll understand one day, when you fall in love.”

God, she’s a terrible liar. As if an arranged marriage with someone ten years older, who spends half his time in Japan, could really be ‘falling in love’.

And that’s you saying that – Windam’s best efforts aside, you’re not the best with people, are you? Imagine how transparent she must be to everyone else. The world is made of such twisted facades…

You’d love to turn the tables. Bring those with empty bluster and abuse to their knees, and elevate those who have true vision. Watching her say things like that, it sickens you. That can’t be the real Nabeshima-sensei. That can’t be what truly resides inside her soul. You’ve seen Windam bare his own in those writings, and surely, Nabeshima-sensei has dark dreams of her very own crawling through the back of her mind.

(just like you.)

“Whatever.” You sigh, and wave off, your tail squirming inside your ass. “If you wanna keep this talk up, save it for after Golden Week. Without me, you’d never keep your lectures straight – go punish the guys who have been putting your face over nudes first.”

“What?! Wait, Richard –”

You sigh, and walk off, tuning her out. If she doesn’t pursue it herself, it’s not worth it. Not yet…

No. Not yet. It’s not time yet. You need to get home. You have much better things in mind for them. For her. For you. Your tail is already vibrating, throbbing in anticipation. You can’t waste your time on a woman who still can’t stand up for herself, when you’re ready to move so much further than you ever have, when visions of science are dancing in your head…

Maybe, when all is said and done, you can teach Nabeshima-sensei to reach for the stars, too? ????

---

You dream. This time, of Nabeshima-sensei…of Shiori.

Someone like her needs a full makeover in body and mind. To let out the best parts of herself, she needs to be reshaped on a deep and personal level. So you’ve enveloped her entirely in your tail, the expanded tail a black rubber coating over her squirming, pleasured, ecstatic body. Putting pressure on her, vibrating, throbbing warmth and tendrils within and whispers in her ear and black magic reaching into her soul.

You could just leave her in there to melt. To melt entirely, into a base form of slime and ooze, undifferentiated yet filled with her soul, with your circuit of consciousness. But such a form would be anything but helpless…

You’re going to teach Shiori, the joy of subjugating humans –

---

and then you wake up.

Napping on the train really isn’t like you, huh…hopefully no one noticed anything untoward, especially with your tail squirming the entire time. ????

Oh, but it’s a wonderful day. Absolutely wonderful, and not just because of your tail. Golden Week is here. Your family will be off on important trips. Most of the group chat will be away. You’ll have so much time to work on things. All these projects you want to try. All these dreams.

There’ll be nothing left to stop you. Consumed by these thoughts and images. The final piece is almost complete…

You don’t know what it is you’re waiting for, or why you’re so insistent on pursuing it. You think part of you is even scared of it, as if it foresees an irrevocable change in everything.

But you have the chance to find out, don’t you?

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