First Laying
"An egg."
The light drained from her eyes the moment the words left my mouth. Her pupils went dull and vacant, as if her soul itself had slipped free, and she looked up at me with a gaze so pitiful it hurt to meet.
"Ah… uh…"
Her lips trembled, fluttering as though she were trying to form words, but all that escaped was a thin, broken whimper. The grip she had on my sleeve steadily lost its strength.
"Hey—hey!"
Her legs gave out. She crumpled, and I lunged to catch her before she hit the floor, throwing my arms around her collapsing body—
"Aaaagh!!!"
The arm I'd thrust out in panic caught her square across the abdomen. A scream tore out of her, raw enough to shred the air. The hand that had been going limp seized my sleeve again with sudden force; she clung to my arm and writhed, thrashing in pure agony.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—I'm really sorry!"
She was already on the brink of oviposition; the pain in her abdomen must have been unbearable. And then her full weight had come down on it all at once…
I yanked my arm free of her stomach as fast as I could and scooped her up properly, supporting her under the hips. The shift of position settled her head naturally against my shoulder, and the ragged, desperate sound of her breathing filled my ear.
"Haa… hhk…"
Miri trembled in fine, continuous shivers, shifting faintly in my arms as she searched for any posture that might hurt a little less. Even that small movement seemed to cost her; she pressed deeper into my chest with a stifled moan. Something warm and wet seeped against the arm cradling her hips.
"Miri. Stay with me."
"Ngh…"
"We're going to the infirmary. Now."
I adjusted my hold and broke into a run, cutting straight down the corridor.
"I'd rather take you home, but I don't think we have the time."
I kept talking, deliberately, even though every word must have been an ordeal for her. If she wore herself out and lost consciousness like this, things could go very badly.
"I know it's hard, but if you can hear me, answer."
"Y… yeah…"
Her voice came out thin and cracked—probably from that earlier scream.
"Don't wanna… I said I don't wanna…"
By the time we reached the infirmary, a wet, pleading murmur was brushing against my ear.
"Don't wanna lay it… why do I have to…"
The tear-choked muttering circled and circled, refusing to leave me alone.
"I'm sorry."
"Ugh…"
For Miri—who had once been an ordinary human, and a man at that—oviposition was something she could never have imagined. Even we dragon shifters hadn't expected it. Half dragon or not, the other half of her was still human; none of us had truly believed she would end up carrying an egg. Everyone had assumed she would simply get a period like a normal person, and we'd prepared for that. No one had imagined she would go through a laying instead—and at the Academy, of all places, with no one around to help.
I held her shaking body tighter and bit down on my lip.
"Miri. This is going to be really hard, but I need you to listen."
The infirmary was empty when I pushed the door open. Breathing hard, I lowered her carefully onto one of the patient beds.
"Dragon shifters don't get periods. We lay eggs."
"…"
"I know you hate this. I know it hurts. But you have to lay it. If it stays inside you, you're in danger."
I didn't wait for an answer. I drew the privacy curtains around the bed. Beyond the thin fabric, only the blurred outline of her shadow swayed faintly.
"And keep telling me how you feel, as much as you can. That way I'll know right away if something goes wrong."
The shadow on the curtain hesitated for a long moment, then slowly nodded. Without a word it shifted again—hands working at a waistband—and then came the soft rasp of fabric sliding over bare skin. In the silence, the sound of clothes being peeled away cut unnaturally cold against the ear. Through the haze of the curtain I could make out the vague, doll-like silhouette carefully lowering her pants.
"I—something keeps coming out, nngh… it's coming…"
"That's fluid your body secretes to help the egg pass. Is there any blood mixed in…?"
"N-no… it's just a little cloudy…"
I let out a quiet breath of relief. When she'd collapsed earlier I'd caught her across the stomach without thinking, and that scream had been bad enough that I'd been terrified the impact might have cracked the egg inside her. Apparently it hadn't.
"What do I do now—ngh… haah…"
Her body heaved hard, a wet moan spilling out of her. The way she curled in on herself was heartbreaking, but I couldn't just stand there and watch.
"Miri. I know it hurts, but staying like that will only make it worse."
"Ahhk… no… j-just leave me alone… wh-why do I have to…"
Her voice shook, thin and threaded with pain.
"Why do I have to lay an egg…! If I had to become a girl, I'd rather just—just get a period…"
The tearful protest sounded strangely familiar. It overlapped with the voice that used to yell through the phone that she didn't want to go out—that same day, that same tone.
"Hhk… no… don't come down… don't come out…"
Her wretched pleading made my eyes squeeze shut. My closest friend was falling apart just beyond a curtain, and I had no real way to help her. Was the best I could do really just stand here, watch her suffer, and throw empty words at her?
Maybe. Maybe there was nothing I could actually do.
But still—
"Hey. I'll hold on to you. Lean on me and push."
"I took my pants off…"
"Shit… just stick your upper body out through the curtain."
I pushed both hands through the gap in the fabric. The curtain swayed, and for a flash I saw her face—bloodless, eyes wet—and it burned itself into my vision.
"Grab on. I've got you."
It might not help her at all. But the thought of her suffering alone felt worse than anything. At least this way she wouldn't have to face it without seeing another person.
The shadow on the cloth wavered. Through the shifting fabric I caught glimpses of her hesitating for a long time before she carefully took hold of the arms I'd offered. I felt her weight settle into them and drew her gently toward me.
"…You look like hell. What are you so scared of?"
"Hhk… you try it… you bastard…"
Only her upper half visible through the curtain, she clutched my arms, buried her face against my chest, and sobbed out a stream of curses.
"I'm sorry."
"What the hell are you sorry for…"
"Just… I keep thinking it might have been easier if someone had warned you ahead of time."
Instead of answering, she fisted my shirt tighter and shook against my shoulder. Behind the curtain, her tail went rigid, then drooped limp, then stiffened again.
"Fuck. I hate all of it…"
Still leaning into my chest, she lifted her head just enough to look up at me. Her yellow eyes, glassy with tears, met mine. The rims were already swollen red; tear tracks streaked her cheeks.
"I hate the egg, I hate everything, all of it—nngh… I'm half human, aren't I…"
She sobbed and weakly punched my chest with a closed fist.
"I'd rather just get a period… no. I hate that too. I just… I just…"
The stretches of time her tail stayed rigid grew longer and longer.
"I—ahh—haahnn!"
A sudden convulsion arched her body like a drawn bow, again and again. Even the complaints she'd been forcing out dissolved; all that remained was ragged breathing and the thin, aching sounds that slipped from her mouth.
Drip. Drop.
Her pain-soaked moans filled my ears, and yet the sound of fluid striking the sheets cut through with unnatural clarity. Every time her body jerked, the curtain swayed, and through the gaps I caught flashes of her large tail and bare skin.
"Ah? Aagh… just come out already!!! No—don't come out… I don't want to…"
She was caught in the contradiction of it—desperate for the thing tormenting her to be over, and at the same time refusing the act of laying itself. Confusion and dread warred across her face.
And the only thing I could give her was this:
"It's okay. Laying one egg isn't going to change who you are."
"…nnh."
"So ease up. You're going to hurt yourself."
I gently cupped the back of her head where it rested against my chest and tried to soothe her as best I could. I wrapped empty reassurances in kindness and fed them to her, hoping—without any real certainty of my own—that she might suffer a little less.
Whether my cowardly comfort helped or not, I couldn't say.
"Ah… ahhnn."
A fine, trembling moan mixed with wet breath and tangled in my ear. Her tail stayed rigid. She clung to my shirt and her whole body kept shuddering.
She shook like that for a long time—and then, abruptly, the trembling stopped. Her head snapped up as if something had released her.
"Ah…"
Thud.
Something heavier than fluid dropped onto the bedding. Her wet eyes lost focus and drifted, unseeing, through empty air. Then her body went slack, and she buried her face against my chest once more.
I carefully brushed the sweat-matted hair back from her forehead.
"You did well."
"…"
She didn't answer. She just stayed there, face pressed into my shirt, trying to steady a breath that wouldn't settle. The place where her breathing soaked into the fabric was hot and damp.
"Rest inside the curtain for a bit. I'm going to make a call."
"…No. Don't go."
I'd started to ease her back toward the bed, but she grabbed my shirt and wouldn't let go.
"I don't want to look… I don't want to see what's back there…"
Her voice shook with raw fear.
"Please don't leave…"
The tear-soaked plea rooted me in place. I couldn't take a single step.
And… I didn't know.
I felt something I didn't understand. That unfamiliar feeling was small, barely there—but it was already fretting at a corner of my heart.