Not my fault

It started like every bad idea: with a hiking trip.

Jake and his younger sister Emma had wandered off the main trail, driven by boredom, sibling rivalry, and a shared talent for ignoring "Private Property" signs. That's when they found it: half-buried in the dirt, glowing faintly like a nightlight forgotten under a pillow.

"Is that a crystal?" Jake asked, poking it with a stick.

Emma didn’t wait. She grabbed it. “It’s warm. And kinda humming?”

Jake frowned. “You think it’s radioactive?”

Emma grinned. “Even better.”

They brought it home, tucked inside a shoebox, like a pet. For the next few days, they poked it, yelled at it, even microwaved it (Emma’s idea), but nothing happened, until Emma accidentally sneezed while holding it. A flash of light popped, and the sandwich she had in her other hand suddenly separated into two neat piles: bread in one hand, fillings in the other.

“…Okay, that’s new,” she muttered.

Over the next week, Emma experimented. The crystal didn’t cut things, exactly, it separated concepts. Hot from cold. Crunchy from soft. Left from right. It was like having a metaphysical scalpel.

Jake mostly stayed out of it, especially after Emma separated “sweetness” from his cereal, leaving behind a soggy bowl of existential sadness.

But Emma grew obsessed. She kept notes. Diagrams. Giggled at night.

Until one morning, she had an idea.

“Hey Jake,” Emma said, holding up the crystal. “Wanna help me test something?”

“Not if it’s like the time you separated the carbonation from my soda.”

“This is better. Trust me.”

Jake, poor fool, agreed.

Emma pointed the crystal at him. A shimmer of light, a pulse, and then...POOF.

Jake stumbled back, blinking. “What the hell did you do?”

Floating in the air beside him was a pale blue orb, hovering gently. It pulsed like a heartbeat.

“Um… what is that?” he asked.

“That,” Emma said proudly, “is your masculinity.”

Jake stared. “…Huh?”

“I separated it from you! Don’t worry! It’s reversible. I think.”

Jake lunged at the bubble. His hands passed through it like mist. He swatted, slapped, headbutted, it dodged everything like a smug balloon.

“This is not funny!” Jake snapped, his voice just a little bit higher than usual.

Emma was doubled over, laughing. “Oh my god. Your jawline! It’s already softer!”

Over the next few days, Jake’s body began to… adapt.

He stopped growing stubble. His muscles shrank a little. His voice cracked like a preteen going in reverse. Worst of all, his mood swings hit like a soap opera.

Emma kept the blue bubble safe, in a birdcage. In her room. Like a trophy.

“Put it back!” Jake shouted one morning, his voice now a soft mezzo.

“I told you, I don’t know how yet!”

“Well figure it out! I just spent ten minutes trying to manspread and I couldn’t!”

By the end of the week, Jake’s reflection showed a slim girl with big eyes, smooth skin, and a ponytail she didn’t remember tying.

Emma still giggled every time she walked past the cage.

Jake, now reluctantly going by “Jade” to avoid confusion, sat on the couch, arms crossed.

Emma peeked into her room. The blue bubble still pulsed gently in its cage, like a cat napping in sunlight.

“You still mad?” she asked.

Jade didn’t answer.

“…You’re still kinda cute, though.”

“Shut. Up.”

But even as Jade fumed, she couldn’t stop staring at that damn bubble. So close. So out of reach. And with every day that passed, it felt… a little less like it belonged to her.

By the second week, Jade had learned three things:

1. Lip balm was now mandatory.

2. People, especially guys, treated her very differently.

3. She looked annoyingly good in a crop top.

Her reflection was no longer foreign. Her hips had curved. Her hair had grown longer and darker. Her chest… well, she tried not to think about that too hard. And her voice? It had a sing-song lilt now, one that sounded almost flirty, even when she was angry.

And she was very angry.

Emma, meanwhile, strutted around the house with a smirk and zero guilt. She even bought Jade a pink phone case.

“It’s practical!” she had said. “You’re gonna need a new aesthetic, sis.”

Jade stared at the caged blue orb every day, feeling like a caged bird herself. Her masculinity hovered there, so close, so untouchable. Emma swore she might find a way to re-fuse them eventually, but "not anytime soon" and "only if you stop being so grumpy about it."

So Jade made a decision.

If Emma wouldn’t give her old self back... then she’d even the playing.

Late at night, the house was silent.

Jade tiptoed barefoot down the hall, crystal in hand, heart pounding. She peeked into Emma’s room. Her sister lay sprawled out, one arm dangling off the bed, snoring softly. The blue orb still floated in its cage.

Jade inhaled deeply, whispered, “Payback,” and raised the crystal.

The flash was quiet. A gentle shimmer passed over Emma’s body. And then… a soft pop.

A second orb materialized. This one was pink and faintly glowing, hovering gently above Emma’s chest.

Jade froze. “Oh my god… I did it.”

She reached out to poke it, and immediately felt something shift.

Emma stirred slightly but didn’t wake. Jade, panicked, tucked the pink orb under a scarf on the desk and tiptoed out, barely containing her triumphant grin.

The next morning, Emma stumbled into the kitchen, blinking, rubbing her eyes.

“Something’s off,” she mumbled, pouring cereal.

Jade raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Emma looked down at herself. “Did I… always have such square shoulders?”

Jade bit her lip.

An hour later, Emma was pacing the living room, staring at her reflection.

“My hips are… flatter?”

Jade smiled sweetly. “Weird. Maybe you’re just retaining... anti-estrogen?”

Emma froze. “What did you do?”

Jade calmly stood up and pointed toward Emma’s room. “I found out how to separate your femininity.”

Emma bolted, threw open the door, only to find the pink orb gently floating above her desk.

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“You had no right!”

“Oh, I had the right,” Jade snapped. “You’ve had my masculinity in a cage like a hamster for two weeks. You laughed while I forgot how to pee standing up.”

Emma folded her arms. “You think this is the same?”

Jade leaned in. “No. I think this is leverage.”

They sat at the kitchen table, glaring at each other. Two glowing orbs, blue and pink, rested in a mixing bowl between them like awkward fruit.

Jade broke the silence. “Here’s the deal. We both return them. At the same time. Clean slate.”

Emma frowned. “But… you’re like, really hot now.”

Jade’s eye twitched. “Not the point.”

“Okay, okay. Hypothetically… what if we just keep them separated a little longer? Like, a month? For science?”

Jade leaned forward. “If you don’t fix this, I swear I will superglue your femininity to a Roomba and let it wander the neighborhood.”

Emma considered. “Fine. Deal.”

They both reached for their respective orbs. Jade clutched hers, trying to will it to rejoin. Nothing happened.

Emma frowned. “Same here. It’s not working.”

Jade panicked. “You said it was reversible!”

“I thought it was! Maybe they got... used to being out?”

Both sisters turned to the orbs. Silent. Glowing. Unfused.

“Great,” Jade muttered. “Now we’re both stuck.”

Emma shrugged. “At least you’re not alone.”

Jade groaned. “You’re the worst.”

Emma smiled. “You’re the prettiest worst I’ve ever created.”

It took three days before Emma’s denial cracked.

At first, she laughed it off.

“Okay, so my waist is a little straighter. Big deal. Maybe I’m just bloated from chips.”

Then, her voice dropped half an octave.

“…Okay, puberty jokes aside, this is just temporary. Totally fine.”

By the fourth day, she’d stopped wearing tank tops. Her chest had completely flattened out, and even her shirts fit differently, tighter in the arms, looser in the torso. Her reflection didn’t smile back with bright eyes anymore, but with a squared jaw and the beginnings of faint stubble.

Jade watched from across the hallway as Emma, now halfway to Ethan, stared into the bathroom mirror, poking her new Adam’s apple.

“You okay, bro?” Jade smirked.

Emma turned slowly. “Don’t.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jade said with exaggerated sweetness. “I just assumed we were using accurate pronouns now.”

Emma shoved past her.

By the sixth day, Emma, now clearly male in every physical way, sat at the kitchen table, silent, brooding, and hunched. She wore Jake’s old hoodie. Her hair was messier, her gait different, heavier. She kept adjusting her shorts, visibly uncomfortable in her body.

Jade popped down beside her. “Morning, handsome.”

Emma didn’t even glare. She just sighed.

“Feel weird?”

“I woke up with morning wood,” she muttered flatly.

Jade snorted into her cereal. “Told you. Gender-swapping sucks.”

Emma pushed her spoon around the bowl. “I feel like a stranger in my own skin. I don’t like how people look at me. I tried smiling at a barista and she flinched.”

Jade raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess: you want your femininity back now?”

“…Yes.”

“Beg for it.”

Emma looked up, deadpan. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Absolutely,” Jade beamed. “But let’s not forget, this was your invention.”

That night, they sat in the living room with the two orbs between them. They glowed faintly, Jade’s blue masculinity and Emma’s pink femininity. Still as distant as ever.

“We tried touching them at the same time,” Emma said. “Didn’t work.”

Jade paced. “What if it’s not about touching? Maybe it’s about wanting it badly enough. Reconnection. Like… identity syncing.”

“You sound like a yoga teacher.”

Jade pointed. “You sound like a linebacker.”

Emma folded her arms over her now-broader chest and scowled. “Let’s just try something new. What if we use the crystal again, but together this time?”

Jade nodded. “Synchronized shot?”

“Exactly. Aim it at ourselves. Will the orbs back in. If it blows us up, at least we’ll be evenly exploded.”

They each held the crystal. Counted down.

“Three…”

“Two…”

“One..!”

A blast of energy shot from each side, lighting up the room. The orbs flickered. Wobbled. Pulled toward their owners, but just as quickly, bounced off their bodies and hovered back into place.

Jade swore. “Still nothing.”

Emma collapsed on the couch. “This is hell.”

Jade joined her. “Welcome to the club.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, sweaty, tired, and still in the wrong skin.

Then Emma muttered, “You think this means we’re stuck forever?”

Jade tilted her head. “Or maybe we’re just not done learning.”

Emma groaned. “You’re starting to sound like a cartoon mentor.”

“And you sound like someone whose balls just dropped yesterday.”

It started subtly.

The pink orb, Emma’s femininity, began drifting. Just a slow, lazy float across the hallway while no one was watching. But by noon, Jade spotted it hovering near her doorway, pulsing faintly like it had a purpose.

“Um… Emma?”

From the living room, the now-broad-shouldered and gravel-voiced Emma mumbled, “What?”

Jade gestured. “Your orb’s… migrating.”

Emma stood up and stared. “Why is it… moving toward you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it thinks I need a double dose of estrogen.”

Before Emma could respond, the pink orb gently bumped into Jade’s side, and stuck.

“…What the hell?” Jade gasped. “It’s not coming off!”

Emma rushed over and tugged at the orb. “Seriously? That’s mine!”

Jade tried to shake it loose, but the orb clung to her ribcage like a magnet fused with skin. “What does this mean?”

Then came the worst part.

The blue orb, Jade’s masculinity, began wobbling from the bowl where it rested… and floated straight toward Emma.

Emma backed up. “Nope. Nope. Don’t you dare.”

It bumped into her shoulder.

It stuck.

They both stood there, staring at each other, mirrored expressions of panic on faces that no longer matched their old selves.

Later that night, Jade sat cross-legged on her bed, arms crossed over her now even softer chest, watching Emma, who now looked like she could bench press a motorcycle, pace the room.

“I don’t get it,” Emma said. “The crystal doesn’t respond anymore. It’s like it’s… dead.”

Jade nodded. “I tried zapping the orb again. Nothing. It’s like the crystal was only ever a trigger. But now the orbs are doing something on their own.”

Emma flopped into the bean bag. “And they’re smaller.”

“What?”

Jade looked down. She hadn’t noticed it before, but the pink orb at her side had shrunk slightly. Emma’s blue one too. Still glowing, still fused, but fading.

“Yours is about the size of a lemon now,” Jade said.

Emma glanced down. “Yours is like a peach. God. We’re turning into fruit metaphors.”

Jade looked up slowly. “What if… the orbs are being absorbed?”

Emma blinked. “You mean like… becoming part of us?”

“Yeah. I mean, think about it. I’ve been feeling a little… fluttery. And emotional. Like, I almost cried at a commercial this morning.”

Emma scratched her now-faint beard stubble. “I’ve been craving bacon. And trucks.”

They locked eyes.

“…Oh no.”

By the end of the next day, there was no doubt.

The orbs were fading. The crystal was completely inert. And their bodies had continued to change.

Emma’s voice was no longer recognizable, rich, masculine, confident. Her jawline was sharp, her figure straight, and her mannerisms no longer felt like an act. The femininity was gone.

Jade, meanwhile, had started instinctively sitting with her legs tucked to the side. Her voice sang even when whispering. The pink orb had melted entirely into her.

As they stood in front of the mirror, side by side, there was no mistaking it.

Emma, now a young man in every physical way, let out a breath. “So I guess we just… switched.”

Jade nodded, her fingers brushing against the side of her waist where the orb used to be. “Looks like it.”

“Forever?”

Jade hesitated. “Maybe not. But… not today.”

Emma turned toward her. “I’m sorry, you know. For starting this.”

Jade sighed. “Yeah. I’m sorry too. For finishing it.”

They stared at their reflections, two strangers who were, well, still brother and sister.