Chapter Text
It took Riz a long time to realize that something about his gender seemed off to him. In those days, he was "she" and she was a name he had tried to bury a long with all the dumb nicknames he had at his old school. There was a sense throughout grade school that something was off, a weird feeling in his stomach when his teachers did roll and called his name like it was no big deal. Except it felt like a big deal to him, but he had no idea why. The thought that maybe he just didn't like his name stuck throughout grade school. Every flinch at a pronoun was brushed off as anger that people were talking about him like he wasn't there, because what other explanation was there? He was already a poor goblin, there was no need to make things harder on himself than they were.
In middle school it only got worse. Puberty sucked so bad, but he found no justification in the way his classmates complained about the same thing. Girls complained about having to remember to carry around pads now but never talked about a deep pit in their stomach that made them want to crawl out of their own skin when they needed to use them. They muttered behind hands hiding their mouths from the boys how awkward it was shopping for bras with their moms, and didn't mention wishing more than anything that their chest would just stop growing already. He held back scoffs of jealousy when boys excitedly showed off their new facial hair. But girl puberty just sucked worse than boy puberty and that was that and nothing was wrong with Riz.
His hair itched constantly on the back of his neck until the day he stared in the mirror and gave himself the most lopsided bob he had ever seen. There was a moment when he stared in the mirror and realized that it didn't make him feel any better and Riz thought to himself that this was supposed to fix things. But it was still too long, and the word occurred to him as he floundered that it was too girly. This was his only justification when Sklonda found him later clutching the scissors and trying not to cry.
There was a note of hesitation in her voice when she asked if "Feeling too girly" made him feel bad but there was no hesitation when Riz's head pivoted up and down in a desperate nod. And Sklonda Gukgak would be the first to say that she was far from perfect, but when a problem presented itself to her she rolled up her sleeves and went to work. When the problem just so happened to be the mess that was her child's hair she went to work with no less fervor.
There was a hushed conversation Riz listened to with an ear pressed against the wall that night between Sklonda and Pok about finding the words for this and some gentle questioning and Riz really did cry that night with no idea what was wrong with him but the knowledge that his parents were going to help.
And then Pok died, and things really did have to get worse before they got better. Because there was a funeral and a "daughter left behind" and obituaries printed with a name he had learned to despise. There weren't any family pictures taken recently enough with his newly shortened hair and instead there were picture frames filled with his parents and a shy looking child that wasn't really him. Funerals were a stressful time filled with crying and reheated casseroles made from extended family and friends and there wasn't time for a kid with no idea who they are asking to change their name.
But there was time to grab a roll of bandages when sent to get groceries Sklonda no longer had time for with money saved up from a time when she could still afford to give Riz an allowance. And there was time to think about how each breath hurt but now he could pass reflective surfaces without burrowing deeper into his clothes purposefully bought too big.
And there was time for Sklonda to find out in that way that good mothers always find out when their kids are doing something dumb. And there was for a conversation where Riz cried and apologized but he just couldn't take being her anymore, I'm sorry Mom but I just can't.
And there was time for reassurances and aparentaly in Sklonda's words there was always time for him. And he wasn't a bother, and his health was important, and they were going to figure this out together, because she wanted him to be happy so badly.
Money was tight, but there were second hand binders given out in free give-aways online, with people who have been where he was and understood. And there was a word, trans, that apparently didn't mean wrong or a freak but just meant that he really was a he, and what it said on the piece of paper he had been given at birth didn't matter. Other people like him were out there, with binders and packers and happiness despite feeling as lost as him at one point.
The last year of middle school was spent with a ducked head and a refusal to talk about why his hair was short and why his mom called him a different name when she picked him up from school every Thursday on her day off. It wasn't worth it, to try and get people who had known him since oversized crayons in tiny plastic chairs learning the Common Alphabet to see him as anything but that so very hated name. But highschool brought with if a new opportunity. To change from the briefcase kid into the briefcase boy. Or, maybe just no nicknames at all. A guy could dream, okay.
No one at Augefurt knew him as anything but Riz Gukgak, the poor goblin unlicensed detective, or The Ball, the unlucky victim of Ragh. But even that was a step up and Riz would take it if it meant being seen as who he was.
And he had friends now. Real friends that liked him, and indulged his insistence upon investigations even when they thought there was nothing to find. And friends that were willing to waste a spell slot healing him when his stealth check failed except they didn't call it a waste and called it their job. And there was Fabien, who acted like a Real Guy, who played blood rush and everything, but still smiled at him in that soft way when he talked like he actually thought what Riz said was important and not just background noise.
And there was Gorgug with an extra hoodie to spare and no questions to ask at sleepovers when the binder got too tight. And when worst came to worst and there was no other option there was Fig handy with a Minor Allusion and there was Kristen always ready to distract anyone who looked at him a little too closely with an animated discussion about the glory of Helio and later a deep theological debate. And there was Adaine, who would sit and listen and nod when everything spilled out of his throat and sit and read quietly beside him while she waited for him to be able to put it all to words.
Because they were the Bad Kids, and they had each others backs even when the world threw nonstop shit at them. His dad may have never gotten to meet the real him, but now he had friends that did and if he was watching, Riz had to imagine that that made him infinitely more proud than teaching him how to tie a tie ever would have.