Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 23

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***

Faith

12 Months Earlier

“Mom, Dad, I’m trans,” I said, staring at them through my computer screen, clad in my new light blue dress, a feeble attempt at makeup adorning my face, my disgustingly low voice cracking with anxiety. 

They were both wearing their dress uniforms, Dad’s silver-white hair short-cropped and managerial, Mom’s darker locks bound in a tight regulation bun. They both sat on the white sofa I’d used to watch cartoons on, in the living room where I used to do my homework on the mahogany coffee table, framed photos of myself and DJ hanging from the white walls behind them. He was the picture of an all-american boy, grown into the kind of son any parent would be proud of. 

And then there was me. 

Mom’s jaw hung open, while Dad’s frown betrayed his usual stoic neutrality. 

“Please say something,” I said, fearing a repeat of Olivia the other night. I hadn’t wanted to do this so soon, but they started calling me on FaceTime, and after a few minutes sitting there with my hands trembling, bunching up the hem of my dress, I called them back on my computer. 

And there they sat. 

“You’re trans,” Dad said, finally, slowly, chewing on each word like he was trying to avoid swallowing the truth. 

“I am,” I said, still bunching up my dress in my hands. I could hear my heart echoing inside my chest, sweat pooling on my brow, everything so damn loud. 

“How long… How long have you known this?” Mom asked, her voice struggling to decide on a tone. 

“A really long time,” I said. “A little less than ten years.”

“Ten years?!” Dad said. “And you’re just telling us this now?”

“I… I… Yeah,” I said. “I was scared.”

“Well you should be, this is gonna make your life a lot harder,” Dad said. 

I blinked. “I know.”

“Do you? Have you really considered this from every angle? About what the costs will be?” Dad said. “You’re now a double-minority. You realize that, right?”

“I-”

“Take this from someone who’s a minority in a major institution- it makes things harder. You’re held to a higher standard, and if you don’t meet that standard, they come down on you vastly harder than they would otherwise. And there aren’t that many women in STEM, let alone trans women in STEM-”

“Dear,” Mom said, putting a hand on Dad’s shoulder. 

“What- it’s true,” Dad said. “I’m just giving our daughter the warning she’ll need to-”

“Daughter?” I said, leaning forward, my vicious pulse slowing ever so slightly. “So you’re… You’re not mad?”

“What? Of course I’m not mad,” Dad said. “You’re my kid. I don’t really understand all this trans stuff, but you’re still my kid.”

I choked back tears. “A-a-and you, Mom?”

Mom exhaled slowly. “If… If this is what you really want, I won’t get in your way. I don’t really understand these things either, but… I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you still love me?” I whispered. 

“Of course I still love you,” Mom said, tears streaming down her face. 

“Ca-can you please call me Faith, then?”

“Faith?” Mom said, struggling to smile. “Faith. Okay. My daughter, Faith.”

“Our daughter, Faith,” Dad said, squeezing Mom’s hand. 

I wept openly, not caring about the mess I was making of my mascara. “Thank you. I love you both. Thank you.”

Mom wrung her hands together and said, “Your father… He’s right, though. This is going to make your life a lot harder and a lot more complicated. Are you prepared for the level of scrutiny you’re going to start being subjected to?”

“I… I don’t know yet,” I said. “But I don’t think I really have a choice. This is who I am. And I want to show her the world.”

“Okay,” Mom said. “Then we’ll support you.”

“Absolutely, we will,” Dad said. “Life is gonna be tough, but we’ll help in any way we can.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sure I’m gonna need it.”

After a bit longer, mostly the folks asking me to tell them the whole story of how I realized it all, how I kept it all inside, how I’d promised myself I’d come out when I was a champion. They said they would help me find a clinic in LA that would take our insurance, Mom said she had a few outfits and accessories she would send me, and Dad said he would get a hold of DJ and tell him for me. 

And when it was over, they were gone. And I still had to face the world. 

I wasn’t sure I was ready. But there wasn’t really much of a choice.

A day later, my Dad emailed me some paperwork to help me file my name change, as well as a list of common reasons people’s petitions got rejected. A day after that, I filed it.

A week later, I started sending out job applications under my new name. It only took another day before I started getting rejections left and right. They all used the same neutral, nondescript language, saying they’d ‘found other candidates more suited to their needs.’ I looked up from my laptop after opening five of those emails at once, over to the college diploma on the wall, the one I’d crossed out the deadname from and wrote ‘Faith’ over with a sharpie, as well as the Valedictorian sash hanging on a hook next to it. I sighed deeply, trying not to torture myself with pointless questions like ‘what could they possibly mean by that?’ 

A week after that, I found out my petition had been rejected, meaning I had to start the whole process over. It turned out I’d forgotten to initial something, so I refiled, only to get another rejection. After a dozen calls to City Hall, I found out I was missing a form. So I filed again, ate through the fee again, only to get the hearing scheduled for six months later because that was all they had available, if only I’d filed sooner they’d have been able to book me for next week. Oh, the tragedy.

A month later, I saw a doctor and they prescribed me Estradiol and Spironolactone. A month after that, I finally got a job. Waiting tables. I needed something, and it was the only gig I could find that wanted someone like me. 

I got fired in less than a month. Some little kid kept screaming ‘why’s that boy wearing lipstick? Why’s that boy pretending to be a girl?’ I’d finally had enough and screamed ‘shut the fuck up.’ Very loudly. 

That was how I found out restaurants don’t offer severance pay. 

I’d gone home that night and collapsed sobbing on the couch, woke up having a panic attack. Zeke rushed in and held me tight, helped me through it.  

I got another job, this one for an engineering firm. As a secretary. I hadn’t even applied for it, they just called me for an interview and told me they wanted to hire me as a secretary when I got there, right as I was about to show them a portfolio of all the projects I’d worked on. 

I swallowed my pride and did what I had to do to keep the lights on.

I’d been working on my voice over the months, and I sounded better, so there wasn’t too much misgendering happening when I answered the phone. Usually, anyway. 

I couldn’t stop thinking about what Dad said, about how this was going to make things harder. I hated it when he was right. And I hated it even more than I hadn’t been honest with him and Mom: I wasn’t ready. I’d already known that.

I wasn’t ready. And I wasn’t sure I ever would be. 

***

Present Day

I woke up in Zeke’s arms, heart beating so fast it made my chest vibrate, the cold, locked-in feeling of a panic attack oversaturating my conscious mind. Like I was still there on that day I’d blown up at a kid; like I was still sitting in my apartment reading the tenth rejection email, bundling up under my blankets and wanting never to leave my room again; like I was still sitting in front of my laptop waiting for my parents to pick up the Facetime call; like I was still sitting there while they processed the sight of me en femme, too shocked to say anything and forcing me to go first. 

Like I was still in the seconds before I’d come out to Zeke and Olivia.

Like I was still biting Kate Calloway’s head off when she was just trying to be nice and congratulate me on my win. 

I didn’t feel like a winner. I don’t even remember the last time I did. 

Zeke’s eyes flickered open, green and gentle, at first brimming with joy and recognition as he looked at me, only for it to shift to concern within a second of the wakefulness. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I whispered. 

“You okay?”

I shook my head.

“Bad dreams?”

“Mixed with very real memories, yeah,” I said. 

He ran a hand through my hair, cupped my cheek, and kissed my forehead. “It’s okay. I’m here. And you’re here. Now. In this moment, with me.”

I gulped, and I nodded, and buried my face in his bare chest, his musk helping me wake up and ground me in reality. 

And it was a pretty great reality- I had a boyfriend I adored and a girlfriend I adored just as much, I was a champion, and if I won another fight, I’d have an opportunity to defend my crown. I lived in the greatest city in the world, and I did what I loved for money. 

But I hadn’t seen my parents in years, my brother in twice as many years, and my attempts to find work in the off season had proven largely fruitless. And I… I was getting better, but there was still a part of me that I really didn’t like. A version of myself who was stubborn and cowardly and more than a little stupid. 

I didn’t just want to do better. I wanted to BE BETTER. 

“Zeke, am I a good person?” I asked, pulling my face free of his chest. 

“Yeah, of course you are,” he said. 

Didn’t even hesitate. But then again, he wouldn’t. He’d only ever seen me through rose-colored glasses. What would happen as we went further in this relationship, and he saw more of me, the parts I didn’t like? Would he still feel the same way?

Would Kate still feel the same way?

“Thanks,” I said weakly. 

“You don’t seem convinced,” Zeke said. 

“I… Yeah, I dunno. Maybe that’s one of those things you can’t really hear from other people. You have to come to the realization on your own, or it doesn’t take?”

“Isn’t that what you said about being trans? You know, the whole ‘Prime DirEggtive’ thing?”

“Heh. Yeah. I guess it is kinda like that,” I said. I kissed him on the cheek, then sat up. “C’mon, that’s enough ruminating for one morning. I believe that it’s your turn to make breakfast, up and at ‘em, big guy.”

I swung my legs off the mattress and climbed out of bed.

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled. “Happy to be of service.” Then he reached over and smacked me on the ass. 

“Eeep!” I squealed. “What was that?”

“Think of it as a tip. For the service.”

“Hm, I see,” I said, mincing across the room, showing off my bare legs, only a barely-buttoned pajama top covering my chest. “Well, I require a tip of my own.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because I’ll be cleaning while you cook,” I said. 

“You raise a good point,” he said, sitting up, brushing his dark curls out of his eyes. “And what tip may I provide you with?”

“Cook naked,” I smirked. 

“I think I can arrange that,” he smiled, before pulling the covers off of his body and climbing out of his bed. “I’m already dressed for the part.”

“Indeed you are,” I said, drinking in the sight, calming myself down by satisfying my thirst. 

Zeke ambled into the kitchen while I traded in my pajama top for a sports bra, a baggy t-shirt, a pair of basketball shorts, and a Pride-colored LA Dodgers cap. I tied my hair into a ponytail and set to work scrubbing the toilet and sink and shower while Zeke put some Lupe Fiasco on our speakers and started frying sausage and potatoes together on the skillet. 

All was going well, the exercise-induced endorphins and gender euphoria I got off of cleaning helping to clear my head. And then our doorbell sang out. 

“Babe, what time is Kate coming over today?” I said, stepping out of the bathroom and wiping my face off with a damp wad of paper towels. 

“Not until she gets off work. Which should be, uh… Ten minutes ago, actually.”

“Cool!” I said, “shame she has to see me all sweaty-”

“So take a shower, I don’t think she’ll mind,” Zeke laughed. 

“Pfft, good point,” I said. “Though the blushing virgin’s mind might get blown by all that.”

“Heh. Blown,” Zeke chuckled. 

My heart sang. I reached for the doorknob and turned it… 

And the other side was my older brother and parents. 

“Surprise!” Mom and Dad said at the same time while DJ’s eyes bulged as he looked over my head, at, presumably, Zeke’s bare ass. 

“What the hell,” my brother said. 

That was when Mom and Dad both blinked and registered my naked boyfriend in the kitchen. 

Zeke turned around and yelped, “Oh God!” He ran off into the bedroom shortly thereafter. 

“What the hell indeed,” Dad said. 

“I can explain,” I said weakly, anxiety and shame slamming into me once more, a tidal wave of dread and mortification that swept me up and threatened to drown me. 

A few moments of silence went by. It really didn’t help that Dad and DJ were both in their dress uniforms, while Mom was wearing a skirt suit that made her look like some sort of rich businesswoman. She was wearing diamond earrings- I didn’t even know she owned diamond earrings. “Well?” Mom said. 

I sighed heavily. “Please come in.”

Why. Does. This. Keep. HAPPENING. TO. ME?!!!

They followed me inside, at which point Zeke came back out in a pair of jeans and a button down shirt he’d neglected to tuck in. “Colonel Watanabe. Mrs. Watanabe. Nice to see you. And, uh… Is it Major Watanabe?”
DJ nodded, clearly unimpressed. 

“Nice to finally meet you. Faith told me so much about you-”

“I doubt that. She and I have never been exceptionally close,” DJ said. Well, some things don’t change, and my brother’s brutal absence of tact was apparently one of them. 

“You, um… You surprised me,” I said, scratching the back of my head. “I was, uh, cleaning.”

“And I was making breakfast,” Zeke said. 

“Do you often do that while naked?” Dad asked. 

“No,” Zeke said awkwardly.

“No, what?”

“... No, sir?” 

“Better,” Dad said. 

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH- “Okay, look- let’s just deal with the proverbial elephant in the room. Zeke and I are together now. Okay? I know this is probably a surprise to you-”

“Not really,” DJ said. 

“It’s not?” Mom said. “I thought you were gay, Faith.”

“I did too,” Dad said. 

“All I know is that you’ve lived with the same guy for years and according to Dad he’s all you talk about,” DJ shrugged. 

“How long has this been going on?” Mom asked. 

“About a week,” Zeke said, then hastily added, “Ma’am.”

“You don’t have to call me that, Zeke,” Mom said with a gentle smile. “I’m a civilian. You can just call me Mrs. Watanabe.”

“You still have to call me sir,” Dad said. 

“Same with me,” DJ added. 

“Right. Sirs,” Zeke said. “So, uh, what brings you to the City of Angels?”

“We knew Faith’s final match of the regular season was tonight, so we decided to surprise our daughter who we hadn’t seen in a while. If you make it to the playoffs, we’ll probably stick around a bit longer,” Dad said. 

“I’m on leave for a few weeks so I figured I’d come too,” DJ shrugged. He looked like he was struggling to hold back a tidal wave of raucous laughter at the sheer uncomfortableness of the situation. “Aren’t you going to offer me something to eat or drink, Mr. Underhill? Where’s your sense of decorum?”

I swear I heard Zeke groan under his breath. If I hadn’t been all sweat and gross, I’d have sat down next to him and squeezed his hand. Instead, I simply said, “What would you guys like? Zeke already made some hash, and there’s coffee in the percolator-”

“I asked your young man, Faith,” DJ said. 

Zeke stood up. “Coffee? Water? Something to eat? I, uh, know how to make mimosas because I used to have to make them for my mom growing up, but I think I got rid of all the booze already-”

“Coffee is fine,” Mom said, putting a hand on Dad’s knee. And just like that, I saw my father relax by a very small margin. He was still staring at Zeke with an uncomfortable intensity, but he looked at least one percent less homicidal. 

Zeke rushed upwards and began assembling a makeshift collection of coffees. I, meanwhile, stood still as a statue while holding my breath. Oh God, they were disappointed, they were freaked out, they hated this, I was letting them down again by boning my roommate and not telling them until I was literally forced to! Goddammit shit- okay, no, breathe. Breathe. You can salvage this. You just have to put all your cards on the table right this second and if you are LUCKY they won’t think you’re a lying liar who lies to her own family and Dad will stop looking at Zeke like he wants to sic a black ops team on him. 

I breathed a very deep breath and said, “Okay, um… There’s one other thing you should probably know about.”

“Oh yeah?” DJ smirked. “And what’s that?”

“You see-”

The door shot open with a quick push, and my beautiful goober of a girlfriend of course came rushing through, looking like twenty million dollars in a red house dress with white stripes and a ring pearls around her neck. “Hey, cuties! Don’t worry about putting clothes on, I don’t mind this… Time…”

Kate blinked rapidly as my family met her gaze. Zeke, carrying four coffees on a tray, sighed and groaned simultaneously. “Um… Hello.”

“Hi,” DJ said. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m-”

I buried my face in my hands, parted the fingers and mumbled, “I can explain.”

***

“A polycule?” Dad said. 

“A polycule?” DJ laughed. 

“I’ve never even heard the term before,” Mom said. “We used to just call them swingers. So… You and this Kate girl, you’re sharing Zeke?”

“No, no it’s more like we’re all dating each other,” I said. 

Zeke and Kate had gone out to get doughnuts for everyone, at my request. This conversation was going to be a lot easier for me alone. The family had given me a few minutes to wash my face and put on people-clothes, and they sat down on the living room couch while I stood in front of them and explained my deviancy to my star-spangled parents and brother. 

“That’s… Very unusual,” DJ said. 

“Yes, it is,” Dad said. 

“That Kate girl… She looks awfully familiar,” Mom said. 

“That’s… Probably because you’ve seen her on tv. She used to go by Keith. Keith Calloway.”

“From the tournament?” Mom said. “Don’t you two hate each other?”

“We did,” I gulped. “Then I came out. Then she came out. Then we started getting to know each other and… Things escalated.”

“I’d certainly say so,” DJ snickered. 

“Don’t start with me,” I snapped. 

“Hey now-”

“No, seriously,” I said. “I can take this from Mom and Dad, but as you yourself said, we’ve never been that close, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t judge me on my lifestyle.”

He held up his palms flat. “Fair enough. Sorry to judge.”

“Faith,” Mom said. “We’re just a little taken aback by all this. You’ve always been… A bit different from other people-”

Oh God, here it comes. 

“-A bit on the strange side, to be sure-”

There it is. 

“-But we never expected you to do something so… Unorthodox. Even after you… You…”

There it fucking is. Guilt lanced my chest, sharp prongs tearing through my resolve. Screw it, time to be direct about this. “Are you disappointed in me?”

Mom blinked, and her jaw dropped. “I… I…”

Don’t know how to answer that question. Duly noted. 

“We’re disappointed you didn’t tell us,” Dad said. “It’s like how you knew you were trans for years but didn’t tell us-”

“I didn’t tell anyone,” I protested. “It wasn’t personal.”

“Is this?” Dad asked. “Was you not telling us about this personal?”

Then it was my turn to blink. 

“Just be honest with us, Faith,” Dad said. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted from you. Honesty. Please.”

“... Yes,” I said, surprising myself. “It was personal. I was scared of how you two specifically would react, so I was putting off telling you.”

“When were you going to tell us, then?”

“... Probably after I won another championship,” I said, running my bare feet across the floor in a horizontal line. 

All three of them looked at me in a way that made me feel even more ashamed than I already was. I tried to think- what would Kate or Zeke do in this situation?

Kate would stand her ground. Zeke would be honest. They’d both try to do the right thing. 

“Look, guys,” I said, “I know I should have told you about this. About a lot of things. But this is ultimately my life, and I can live it how I want. With who I want. And I’m financially independent-”

Dad said, “That’s not entirely accurate, Faith. We’ve had to float you money on numerous occasions in the past year.”

“... Okay, fair enough. But I’m working on it. You know I am. And I really think if you got to know Kate and Zeke you might see what I see in them. They make me really happy- isn’t that good enough for you?”

“... Of course it is,” Dad sighed. “It just… I worry about you, out here, doing what you do, being… Who you are.”

“And I know that, and I appreciate that,” I said, stepping forward and putting a hand on Dad’s shoulder. He flinched- I don’t think I’d ever done something like that before. “But I’d also really appreciate it if you would trust me. Trust that you raised me to look after myself.”

Dad sighed lightly. “Okay.”

“Okay?” I said, smiling hopefully. 

“Okay,” Dad repeated while Mom nodded. 

I looked at DJ, who said, “I mean I don’t really think I get a say, I was mostly just messing you.”

I squinted. “Seriously?”

“It’s my God-given right as your big brother,” he smiled. 

I flicked his forehead. “Jerk.”

Then I extended my arms and pulled all three of them into a group hug. I felt them all go rigid with shock- I’d never been the huggy type growing up. Honestly, we’d never been a very huggy family, all things considered. But… Things had changed. I had changed. For the better. And I had Katie and Zeke to thank for that.

***

My heart nearly stopped beating while Mom and Dad looked over Dai Gurren. Somehow, this was more nerve-wracking than them walking in on my boyfriend making hash browns while naked. The three of us stood in front of the bot, inside the garage while Kate and Zeke clung to the back desperately trying to avoid getting caught up in my parents’ wake. 

“Hmmm,” Dad said. “Interesting design choices.”

“Interesting how?” I asked, barely able to squeak out the words. Please don’t say you hate it, please don’t say you hate it, please don’t say you-

“I don’t hate it,” Dad said. “But I don’t love it, either.”

FUCK. 

“It’s certainly ambitious,” Mom said, walking around it and examining it from all sides. “Show me the picture of the robot you’re fighting tonight?” 

I pulled up a photo of Jolly Roger from google images and handed the phone to my mom. “Hmm,” she said. “Okay, I think I see what you’re going for. Though I’m worried about balance- you have a lot of weight on the front and I’m afraid you might wind up falling on your face, so to speak. Who’s idea was it to use this many drills?”

“Uh, it was my idea, ma’am,” Kate shouted from the back of the garage, tentatively raising her hand. “Zeke also contributed to the concept.”

Please lower your hand, Kate, I thought.

“Please lower your hand, Kate,” Zeke muttered. Heh. 

Kate lowered her hand. 

“I see,” Mom said. “Ms. Calloway-”

“Please just call me Kate. Or Katherine.”

“Ms. Calloway,” Mom reiterated. “May I ask where you studied?”

Kate went stiff as a board. “Uh… CSU.”

“CSU?”

“Cal State,” Kate said, looking at the floor. “Northridge.”

“I see,” Mom repeated. “And you did graduate, yes?” 

Oh, Goddammit.

“Yes, ma’am,” Kate said. 

“Kate is a good engineer,” I said firmly.

“I never said she wasn’t,” Mom said. 

“She’s also the best bot driver I’ve ever known.”

“That’s what you said about Olivia,” Dad said. 

“She’s better than Olivia.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Kate said. 

“Take the compliment, babe,” I said, not looking back at her. 

“Oh… Okay,” she said nervously. 

“Fair enough,” Mom said. “I just hope you’re thinking things through when you listen to her advice. I know you’re dating her, but you’re also in competition with her.”

I flinched. That idea had been on my mind lately, and I’d been avoiding thinking about it… But the ideal situation was that Kate and Zeke and I all made it to the tournament, at which point there was a real chance of our rematch. My hands trembled, and I closed my eyes and choked out, “Look. You two are the best engineers I’ve ever met, and yeah, I’m biased because you’re my parents. But I still trust your judgment, just like you’re supposed to be trusting mine. Do you think this design will work against Jolly Roger, in your expert opinion?”

“I think so,” Dad said, squatting low and inspecting the installation work on the faceplate. 

“You mean it?” I said, his words a mild balm to the wound of my anxiety. 

“Yeah,” Dad said. “Like your mom said, there’s the balance issue to be concerned about, but given that you’re expecting to lose at least one of these drills during the course of the fight, it will hopefully make that less of a problem. My dear, what do you think?”

“I think it’s workable, though it’s not how I would have done this,” Mom said. 

I winced. “I know. But it’s how I’m doing it.”

Mom looked at me, long and hard, then at Dad, then at Kate and Zeke, before she finally sighed and said, “Then it’s good enough for me.”

The anxiety decreased in intensity, little by little. Maybe if it kept going like this, I wouldn’t be having a panic attack right before the fight. 

***

I started having a panic attack right before the fight. 

Zeke and I were in the pits, and I could feel it coming on, but I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Ice cold fear, biting at my chest and stomach, cranking up my pulse and freezing out rational thought. I stood in front of DG, opening and closing my hands. My parents were in the audience tonight. My parents and my brother. And they were trying, yes, and they wanted to be better than they’d been, yes, but they also at their core had tendencies towards being hyper-critical and judgemental, more than a bit condescending, and prone to getting hung up on what could go wrong. 

All of which were tendencies I’d inherited. So that certainly didn’t help. 

I blinked and realized Zeke was waving his hand in front of my face. “Hey. You still with us?” he asked, conjuring up that dorky, winning smile. 

“Yeah,” I said, trying to muster up a smile of my own. “Just, uh, got lost a second. Where’s Katie?”

“Getting interrogated by your brother,” Zeke said. 

“What?!”

“Kidding!” Zeke said with an awkward laugh. “Kidding. She’s running late, is all.”

“Don’t joke about that, please,” I said, scrunching my brow and poking his chest. 

Zeke grabbed my hand and gave me a twirl, and we waltzed a few rounds. The ice in my chest started to melt, fear and dread slowly evaporating with each step. Amazing. He hadn’t said anything, he’d just gone for it, and… It made me feel better right away. Seen. Heard. Taken care of.

Loved. 

My eyes bulged (heh, bulge) wide when that last word sounded inside my mind. I tried to push it away- it was too soon for that, we’d only been together a very short time, even if we’d been friends for years. I didn’t LOVE Zeke… 

… Did I?

I breathed in through my nose and concentrated on dancing, letting each step calm me further. Whatever words I wanted to apply to it, at the very least, Zeke made me feel very, very good, and that was what was important. 

Zeke cupped my chin and leaned in for a kiss, which I lovingly (don’t read into it) returned. “Better,” he smiled, his lips barely parted from mine. 

“A bit,” I smiled. 

“Alright then,” he said. “Let’s do this thing.”

***

“AND IN THE RED SQUARE! THIS SHIP HAS SAILED THE SEVEN SEAS! IT’LL TAKE YOU AN WORLDWIDE VOYAGE AND SINK TO POSEIDON’S DEPTHS! THESE LADIES WILL MAKE YOU WALK THE PLANT AND BURY YOU WHERE X MARKS THE SPOT! IT’S… JOLLY ROGER!!!!”

Nia Westfield and Lenora Li stood at attention is their sailor uniforms alongside their additional three crewmates: Sasha Cunninghma, a statuesque blonde with guns of steel; Georgia Wilder, a medium-height black woman with long braids and longer legs; and Vera Quincy, a lean and short redhead with close-cropped hair. They were stoic pictures of feminine strength, and I was both very turned on by them and very afraid of them at the same time. 

We wheeled our bots in the box, and when we heard the ‘Robots! Activate!’ recording play, I punched the button and drove DG directly towards the enemy. 

Perhaps as a show of respect, JR did the same with us. 

We collided at the exact middle of the box. Drill met drill. 

Drill shattered drill. 

Our centerpiece drill was destroyed immediately, but so was their primary weapon. And we still had five more, all of which were penetrating the ship’s bow. I pushed DG forward against the massive weight of JR. JR shoved us around with its superior mass, but it just pushed our drills deeper and deeper in until cracks began to form in the wooden shell. Gurren chipped away at the enemies’ wheels while DG was shoved into the screws even as we shattered the wooden shell entirely and started digging into the metal interior. The screws, however, whittled away at us. 

“TEN SECONDS HAVE GONE BY- JOLLY ROGER HAS GOT TO LET DAI GURREN GO!” Derek yelled. 

“I DON’T KNOW IF SHE PHYSICALLY CAN, DEREK!” Marty countered. 

Indeed, she couldn’t. JR wheeled us out, and I tried to backtrack and get free, but we were stuck. 

Well, most of us, anyway. Gurren was busy taking out JR’s back tires. One was successfully destroyed, that just left the other one-

Only for JR to keep wheeling back and crush G under its weight. 

“No!” Zeke cried out as the minibot was broken beneath the battleship, a sickening crunch as the wheels popped off and the smaller parts were flattened. 

Up to me, then. 

Everyone was watching. My parents. My brother. My partners. The whole damn professional robot fighting community. With my shaking hands, I pushed forward. I breathed into it, and remembered what I was doing this for: love. Of my family. Of my relationships. Of engineering, and of this sport. It was a big word, a scary word, but… I was ready for it. 

I was ready to love myself. 

And I was ready to fucking win. 

I applied maximum velocity and drilled and drilled and drilled, only for JR to start turning and shaking. A metallic snapping sound shot out, and DG’s faceplate was torn off in a violent tug. 

“OH HELL NO! DAI GURREN HAS BEEN DE-FACED!” Marty cackled. 

Shit. Shit shit shit that was bad shit shit shit-

Wait a second. 

The faceplate was still drilled into the front of JR. The pirate ship’s weight was totally out of balance. And it was missing its back-left wheel. It could only go back-right. 

This would be tricky. Desperate. Probably wouldn’t work. But I needed to do this if I wanted to go to the playoffs. And I wasn’t doing it for my parents- at that moment, I didn’t care about living up to their expectations. I was doing it for me, and for Zeke, and hell, even for Katie. I wanted to prove her right. 

I did a lap around the box, letting JR position itself towards me. It was clearly planning on ramming me into the screws again. It was near the exact center of the battle box, just as the kill-saws were sprouting up. I found the appropriate angle, forty-five degrees on their right hand side, and floored it. I slammed into the side of the ship, at a small patch of exposed metal not taken up by my faceplate, kept going even upon impact. 

The ship tipped. 

Slowly, slowly, it tipped over, and landed on its back, directly onto the kill-saws. 

Its mast was devoured by the saws, and it was left on its side by the opposing force, unable to move. I didn’t give them a courtesy shove. I just started crying tears of relief as the countdown went by and my victory was announced. 

And just like that, I’d done it. I was going to the playoffs. Zeke looked too stunned to move, but I took him by the hand and guided both our respective index fingers towards a face in the crowd. Not to my family, as happy as I was not to have embarrassed myself in front of them. But to Katie. We both pointed, and then I drew my hand back and blew Katie a kiss. And Zeke did the same.