Chapter 2 – The Bell(e)
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Content Warning: Slur use (Neurodivergent and WLW related)

I truly hoped that despite how real the previous night had felt, that it would turn out to be a dream after all, some weird continuation of the dress from the deepest dream. All hope of that was dashed the moment my eyes opened, only to gaze upon Potato Bun’s visage mere inches away from me. “Goooooood morning! It’s a new day, another chance to start your duty as a Magical Girl, and to protect the worl--” She was interrupted by Mom grabbing her head and throwing her over her shoulder. 

“I told you to not try recruiting my child, you warhawk. How’re you doing, David?” 

“Good. I-I had hoped last night was a dream, because of… because of the whole tur-turning into a g-girl thing.” I rubbed my shoulders, looking down, avoiding Mom’s eyes. I would have been tapping my foot were I not sitting in bed, so tapping my fingers would have to suffice. Mom sighed and ruffled my hair. 

“I remind you of what I said last night: Take your time sorting those feelings out, I’m here to talk if you need to. Both as your mom and your general practitioner. Now come on, get dressed, breakfast is going to be done within ten minutes.” I nodded to Mom as she left the room, and got out of bed. Potato Bun had flown back in by that point, and looked confused as I opened my wardrobe. 

“Where’s your school uniform? Don’t all students wear one?” I actually managed to snort a bit at her question. 

“N-no, my school doesn’t, doesn’t have uniforms. It’s not a Cath-catholic or private one.” Thanks to the fact it was October, I didn’t have to worry about heat stroke from wearing my favorite oversized hoodie that I could hide in if I needed to. That plus a simple t-shirt and jeans was, in effect, my uniform. As I finished dressing, I turned to Potato Bun. “Why, why’d you expect uniforms?” 

“All that I saw for research and training for my job as a guide suggested every school had uniforms.” 

“What did you w-watch?” I asked, surprised that a supposed magic guide would have to study for their job. 

“Magical Girl shows. A lot of them. Basically all of them. At once. Just uploaded right into my brain.” Potato Bun kicked her feet in the air. “And then I started watching them the regular way, since they seemed nice.” That went a long way towards explaining her behavior. If she thought Magical Girl Shows were normal reality instead of a marketed lesson on how to conform to femininity right, then of course she wouldn’t realise the inherent dangers being a Magical Girl brings, since I doubted she had watched Madoka or its not great derivatives, like the battle royale one or Magical Girl Site. With that little explanation out of the way, I left my bedroom to join Mom in the kitchen. 

She was busy making pancakes, but took a quick peek behind herself to make sure I was sitting down. That also let her know Potato Bun was following me. “Important question, Miss Potato Bun: Do you have to eat?” 

“No, I don’t.” Potato Bun began, as she sat down on the table. “But I like to.” 

Mom got the last pancake off the pan and onto the stack, which she put down in front of me, giving Potato Bun the most sinister smile imaginable. “Good. If you dare touch this, I will whack you with the morning paper. As a warning shot. The rolling pin will be next.” Mom sat opposite of me, with a bowl of müsli. Bun just sighed and shook her head. 

“This is why we usually don’t get the parents involved. They throw a wrench in the operation.” She sat with her arms crossed. But following her remark, I could see Mom tense up. It was blatantly obvious she wanted to slam her spoon down on the table. She instead carefully put it down, shot me a smile and signed ‘You’re okay’ at me, to reassure me, before she turned her gaze on Potato Bun, all the warmth disappearing from her face, like a fire doused with a bucket of water. 

“You recruit children for a secret war, and then keep it from their parents. A secret war they could die or get injured in. Leaving their parents clueless about what happened to their child. Is this correct?” Potato Bun nodded to answer my mom’s question. “Okay. How many kids are there currently?” 

“Four mostly girls in this town, not counting your daughter.” Potato Bun’s answer caused another warm confusing pang in my heart. I really wasn’t sure why that was the reaction it elicited, but it did. 

“And none of their parents know. What if they get hurt? What if they die? What then?” Mom clenched her fist “Do you go and make the parents forget their kid ever existed, to make them not suffer?” She stood up, grabbing Potato Bun by the back of her neck “Do you leave them feeling guilty about not being there for their child, by making their death look like a suicide?” Mom tossed Potato Bun up ever so slightly, to adjust her hold on her, before she threw her across the house and into my room. “Look at what you caused! My criticism of your nonsense is triggering my child!” Mom quickly grabbed hold of my shoulders and rubbed up and down my arms. It was only then I noticed I wasn’t breathing. While Mom’s questions made sense, they were also hard hitting and terrifying, and made me worry for the four ‘mostly girls’ in town. The phrasing of it still made me question stuff. 

Was one of them also a boy, like me? No, that couldn’t be it, Potato Bun had said you had to be close enough to being a girl to have a Spark. Why was it then that I had one, when I was supposed to be a boy? The closest thing I had pointing to me possibly being a girl were the avatars I used online, of cute girls made in character creators. And I didn’t mind being mistaken for one either. Others usually corrected people for me.  Throughout that train of thought, I had managed to regain my breathing, and I dug into breakfast to calm myself further. “I’ll go double check you’ve got everything for school today in your bag, you just keep eating.” Mom let go of my shoulders, ruffled my hair and went into my room, leaving me to my thoughts and my pancakes. 

 

The ride to school was uneventful, except for the fact Potato Bun had snuck into my backpack after Mom had checked it, something I found out when I double checked it in the car. She was sitting in it along with the wand, and I didn’t want to just toss her out. Thus, she was making me anxious. Incredibly so. What if somebody saw her, what if they saw the wand, what would they say, what would they do, to either me or Potato Bun? Okay, considering Mom’s treatment of her, Potato Bun appeared pretty sturdy, so the question came back to what they’d do to me. Another scalding nickname? More teasing? Maybe an extra slur added to what they shouted at me, an F joining the R. Thoughts to ponder later, as we reached our destination and I got out of the car. “Love you, sweetie,” Mom said to me as I was closing the door. 

So I signed at her. “Love you too, Mom, see you after school.” She nodded in reply, I closed the door, and began walking to the front door while she drove off. 

“Ouch, nonverbal already, Dave? The shooting drill’s tomorrow, what’s got you so shaken up?” said the second most familiar voice I knew. Emily Hope, childhood friend, confidante, meat shield, shoulder to cry on, and a way for the school to skip out on paying for a social worker for me. 

I shot her a nervous smile, got closer, and began signing. “Something wild and unexpected happened last night,” I began, which earned me a nod. “And the consequences of that are kind of in my backpack right now, and I don’t want anyone to see them.”

Emily raised her eyebrow. “What could have happened that made you bring it to school?”

I continued. “A mascot character declared me a Magical Girl, and she’s currently in my backpack, with the wand I can transform with.” 

“I would ask if you were joking, but you wouldn’t have gone nonverbal from making a joke. Alright, I’ll have to check later.” 

“Thank you,” I signed, and then sighed, as I heard the footsteps from a specific individual. 

“The retard’s lost his voice again I see.” The slur was shouted by Horton Aisle, the most consistent bully I’ve had, somebody I encountered in middle school who seemed untouchable. “Hey, Dial-up Dave, why don’t I break your fingers so your hand talk matches your speech.” He was getting awfully close to comfort, but Emily got in between him and myself. 

“Horton, do you hear the Who do you fucking think you are picking on my friend.” Emily’s arms were crossed, and Horton just sneered. 

“Dave, when’re you gonna stop depending on your girlfriend to cover your ass?” he asked, knowing full well that she wasn't my girlfriend. “Then again, you’re the one wearing the panties in your relationship, Dave, the dyke’s the boyfriend.” 

“Wow, that’s the third ‘dyke’ I’ve got from you this week, and it’s only Tuesday. You really need to come up with better insults if you want to fuck me straight with your magic super-dick.” Emily leaned in closer. "Oh wait. You don't have one because that's not how this works." 

Horton clenched his fists and was about ready to either resort to violence or fire off another round of verbal abuse when the bell rang. “And that’s your cue to fuck off Horton.” Emily did a shooing hand motion, and Horton growled and started walking in. 

“Just wait until you’re alone, Dave, your dyke of a boyfriend won’t save you then,” he scoffed. The moment he was out of earshot, Emily sighed.

“Four times, four times in two days, and two misgenderings. I’m nowhere near butch enough to use those terms, I’m just a tomboy.” Emily turned to me. “How’re you doing, Dave? Shaken up? Need a minute?” I shook my head at Emily’s question, and started making my way towards my locker. I hoped I wouldn’t run into Horton for the rest of the day, but even if I did, Emily and I shared classes. The only time we couldn’t be together was in bathrooms or changings rooms. I spent most of the rest of the day wondering whether to show Emily Potato Bun and the wand. In the end, I decided against doing it at school. It was simply too public a place for such a thing. 

There would be a time and place for me to share my burden with Emily, but it was not at school during class or lunch.

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