The Otaku’s Dilemma: Family, Finance, and Gender Fluidity

In the end, I only allowed the golden-haired boy to call me “Sister.” Any “onee-sama” or “onee-chan” was strictly forbidden.

Those terms were simply too “two-dimensional” for my tastes; I couldn’t possibly accept them.

Even though I was still an otaku, I no longer held the same mindset as when I first delved into the world of anime and manga.

I no longer stayed up all night binging shows, nor did I get excited leaving comments on bullet-screen videos. My 2D waifus hadn’t changed in years.

I couldn’t be bothered with “masterpieces” or profound works anymore; I simply enjoyed lighthearted yuri and comedic anime.

These days, I barely even qualified as a casual fan; at most, I was a mere bystander. If anyone dared to call me “two-dimensional,” I’d definitely have words with them.

One must learn to grow in life. Even though my grades weren’t stellar, I understood that passions were merely exploited, and faith yielded no profit.

The ease with which money was extracted from otaku was evident in my own lavish spending on games compared to my otherwise frugal daily life.

Of course, I wasn’t claiming that the “two-dimensional” world was some kind of monstrous flood. However, to constantly numb oneself in an idealized utopia meant being trapped forever within a fabricated paradise.

The best way to be a NEET without becoming a burden on my parents was to learn how to earn money from home.

Thus, I had taken to self-studying C language and financial knowledge.

Furthermore, once I began learning C, I discovered that it was, unequivocally, the best language in the world, and I refused to entertain any arguments to the contrary! 🙂

After all, even a “salted fish” otaku like me harbored dreams. My aspiration was to create independent games and become a game developer.

For game development, C language was undeniably effective: fast compilation, excellent compatibility, and robust library and tool support. Apart from accelerated hair loss, I could hardly think of any drawbacks.

Naturally, making games without funding was impossible, which was why I was self-studying finance and currently experimenting with fund investments.

A true otaku, I reasoned, could sustain themselves even if they didn’t leave home for a decade!

I was precisely such a man: self-aware and skilled in long-term planning. My life had been meticulously organized.

For instance, what if I ended up dying alone? To address this, I had already calculated the minimum savings I would need for retirement and had even begun researching the advancements in artificial intelligence, hoping to secure a robot wife in the future.

Human fear, after all, stemmed from the unknown. In a sense, the selling of knowledge anxiety served to cater to people’s dread of an uncertain future.

Consequently, a large part of my panic that morning originated from the fear of my meticulously planned life being completely disrupted.

After splashing cold water on my face in the bathroom, the icy shock pulled me back to reality.

My pounding heart and highly strung nerves temporarily calmed. The refined face staring back from the mirror, a stark contrast to my originally unremarkable features, left me feeling utterly bewildered.

I had already confirmed it: even the posture required for using the toilet would need a permanent alteration.

The thought of which restroom I would use at school in the future filled me with a pang of vexation.

Speaking of which, boys, to varying degrees, usually harbor some curiosity about women’s restrooms, don’t they?

Yet, a man entering a women’s restroom was far more startling than encountering a cross-dresser in a men’s restroom.

Consequently, men typically kept their distance from women’s restrooms, unlike how their female counterparts might hang a sign outside the men’s restroom, allowing them to enter en masse without a second thought.

One should never underestimate the dilemma of which restroom to use; in truth, it represented a formidable hurdle.

It encompassed issues of self-cognition, gender identity, and ethics, among many other domains. A single misstep could lead to the tragic outcome of social ostracization, or even worse, the complete loss of self.

“Rumble, rumble…”

The sound emanating from my stomach momentarily halted my internal debate. Clenching my abdomen, I muttered, “I’m so hungry.”

The morning’s commotion had caused me to miss breakfast entirely. Hunger aside, I had no choice but to endure.

Lunch was only a few hours away, so there was no need to bother with breakfast now. After all, frugality was a tremendously important life philosophy!

Hearing my stomach rumble, the golden-haired boy tied an apron around himself and bustled into the kitchen.

“Sister, I’ll make you noodles!”

…

How could this guy be so tactless? And coming from the mouth of someone who had just become a woman, why did those words sound so utterly bizarre to my ears?

I instinctively imagined an intimate scene unfolding between myself and this handsome, yet broad-shouldered, younger brother. Reversing the roles, it was like that classic morning scene from Yosuga no Sora…

Meow, have I become some kind of awakened pervert? My sanity points are plummeting! Besides, I don’t even like sister-brother tropes, nor do I have a thing for shotas!

“No! That’s horrifying!”

“Sister, what are you talking about?”

The golden-haired boy had already dropped the noodles into a pot of boiling water, while simultaneously frying eggs in a pan. The aroma was truly delightful.

Unsure what to wear, I simply donned my usual hoodie and sweatpants, wrapping myself completely. I even found a mask to cover my face.

Truth be told, with the hood up, my appearance looked far more neutral. If others’ perception of my gender hadn’t shifted as the golden-haired boy suggested, this outfit might just allow me to pass unnoticed.

Apart from a certain pointed area feeling a bit sore, everything else was manageable.

“Sister, just a moment.”

I dutifully sat at the dining table, scrolling through my phone. Just as I was pondering how to greet the Goddess, the golden-haired boy placed a bowl of beef noodles before me.

However, seeing the bland broth, my mood was almost indescribable.

“What is this?”

“Beef noodles, of course.”

“You call this beef noodles?”

I was surprisingly infuriated. I slammed my hand on the table and accused, “You are absolutely not my brother!”

The golden-haired boy looked utterly bewildered. “Huh? Why?”

“If you’re truly my brother, you should know I can’t possibly eat beef noodles without chili! Where in the world would you find non-spicy beef noodles? Are you an alien?”

“What?”

The golden-haired boy grew angry in turn. “I made you noodles, and you’re still complaining? Sister, do you know how many pimples you get because you love spicy food? You need to change your spicy eating habits and embrace being a refined, beautiful girl!”

“I’m not sacrificing my hobbies! If that’s your logic, then I’d argue beautiful girls are angels who don’t eat, drink, or even poop!”

“Sister! Watch your language!”

“Who am I maintaining an image for? I’m a man of steel! I won’t give up on turning back!”

As we bickered, I suddenly caught a waft of an enticing aroma. I glanced down, and somehow, these clear-broth beef noodles had begun to look rather appealing.

I was a little hungry; perhaps I should just try a bite? As a hard-hearted, unyielding man, did they expect me to utter a “that smells so good” like Wang Jingze? Dream on!

“Sister, if that’s not enough, you can have mine too.”

“Then I won’t be polite about it!”

Happily, I slurped down the noodles, even finishing the broth. I looked up to see the golden-haired boy watching me, his small head propped in his hands, a playful expression on his face.

Blushing, I retorted staunchly in a Northeastern accent, “What are you staring at?”

The golden-haired boy didn’t catch the reference. Instead, he happily swung his legs, which dangled in the air.

“Sister, don’t you think we feel like real siblings?”

“Are you referring to the arguing?”

“Something like that.”

I began to ponder why I had, without realizing it, accepted this new dynamic. Did I genuinely harbor a subconscious desire for a younger brother or sister?

I suddenly recalled many years ago, when my parents asked if I wanted a sibling. At the time, I believed I was about to be abandoned and cried, proclaiming, “You can beat me to death, but I don’t want any brothers or sisters!”

After spending a great deal of time comforting me, my parents never raised the question again. It wasn’t until I developed a fondness for sister-themed stories that I finally understood what I had lost.

I hadn’t lost just a sibling; I had lost an entire youth! These were all the mistakes I had made in my younger days!

I secretly observed the young boy before me, dressed in my loose clothing, a blissful smile gracing his face.

I had to admit, the golden-haired boy perfectly matched the image of an ideal younger brother in my mind: sunny disposition, culinary skills, caring towards me, and, setting aside the muscles, an ultimate “fresh meat” idol.

Compared to a mischievous “bear child” of a brother, he couldn’t be more excellent. So, what exactly was I still agonizing over?

I lowered my head, gently tapping the table, and made a difficult decision.

“Let me make one thing clear: you have to listen to me, or I’ll kick you out!”

“No problem at all. I’m Sister’s closest family; how could I not listen to Sister?”

Family? It felt like ages since I’d last had a meal with family.

The golden-haired boy, who would rather go hungry himself than let me starve, ignited a flicker of warmth within me.

Alright, I’ll see how things go. Until I change back, having him as my brother isn’t entirely unacceptable.

“Sister it is, then. Ling Chen, from now on, we’re family.”

Although I desperately wanted to say “my brother,” the words simply wouldn’t come out. Was it truly still so hard to accept having an extra brother?

Ling Chen joyfully blew me a kiss.

“I love you, Sister!”

“That’s so mushy!”