The twist of the mind
The Saturnian Mineral and the Scent of a Stallion
The weekend in Tomobiki had been a blur of high-voltage shopping sprees and deeply confusing introspective silences. By Monday morning, the atmosphere at Tomobiki High School was so thick with tension that one could have sharpened a katana on the air itself.
Lum, currently trapped in the lanky, slightly tan body of Ataru Moroboshi, walked through the school gates with a slouch that she hoped conveyed "troubled masculine depth." She had spent the last forty-eight hours practicing Ataru’s walk in front of a mirror, but she kept accidentally adding a hip-sway that made the local stray dogs howl in confusion.
"Okay, Lum, stay focused," she whispered to herself in Ataru’s raspy voice. "You are a lecher. You are a pervert. You are a menace to society. Just... try to look at a girl’s skirt without wanting to offer her fashion advice."
She spotted Shinobu standing by the lockers. Lum-as-Ataru took a deep breath, puffed out her chest, and stomped over.
"Hey, Shinobu!" she barked, trying to sound sleazy. "Nice... shoes. They really emphasize your... ankles. Want to go get a beef bowl and talk about how strong you are?"
Shinobu turned, her eyes widening. She didn't reach for a desk. She didn't even scowl. Instead, she reached out and pressed a hand to Lum-as-Ataru’s forehead.
"Ataru, you’re doing it again," Shinobu said softly. "The 'Gentleman Moroboshi' act. Mendō told me about your confession at the fountain. I didn't believe him at first, but looking at you now... you have this look in your eyes. Like a wounded poet."
"I’m not a poet! I’m a trash fire!" Lum-as-Ataru insisted, panicking. "Look! I’m picking my nose! See? Gross, right?"
"It’s a defensive mechanism," Shinobu sighed, her voice dripping with misplaced sympathy. "You’re trying to push me away because you’re afraid of your own sensitivity. It’s okay, Ataru. I forgive you for all those years of chasing me. I see the real you now."
Lum-as-Ataru let out a groan that sounded like a dying radiator. She was failing. She was failing so hard she was accidentally becoming popular.
Meanwhile, at the second-story window, the real Ataru Moroboshi—currently inhabiting the radiant, tiger-striped form of Lum—was leaning against the sill, blowing bubbles with a piece of alien gum. He had spent the morning being offered three different marriage proposals and a free box of premium donuts.
"This body is a cheat code," Ataru-as-Lum chuckled, his voice a melodic chime. "I don't even have to try. I just stand here and the world provides."
Ten hovered next to him, looking increasingly frantic. "Ataru, stop eating those! Those are 'Gravity Gums'! If you swallow them, you’ll drift into the stratosphere!"
"Who cares? I can fly anyway!" Ataru-as-Lum said, doing a graceful backflip into the air. "Hey, look! It’s Shū-chan! He looks like he hasn't slept in three days. Let’s go say hi."
Shūtarō Mendō was indeed looking haggard. He was sitting at his desk, staring blankly at a portrait of his family crest. The "confession" from the man he considered his greatest rival had shattered his worldview. If Moroboshi wasn't a pervert, but a secret admirer of the Mendō legacy, then every victory Mendō had ever won was actually a cruel rejection of a sensitive soul.
"Master Shūtarō, your caviar sandwich," a member of the Black Glasses Squad whispered, offering a tray.
"Take it away," Mendō muttered. "How can I eat when the ghost of Moroboshi’s longing haunts the very air I breathe?"
Suddenly, the window flew open. Ataru-as-Lum floated into the room, landing on Mendō’s desk with a soft *thud* and a flash of tiger-striped thigh.
"Morning, Shū-chan!" Ataru-as-Lum chirped, leaning forward until their noses almost touched. "You look terrible. Did you spend all night thinking about my... I mean, Ataru’s confession?"
Mendō scrambled backward, nearly falling out of his chair. "Lum-san! Please, decorum! And yes... I am haunted. To think that I, a Mendō, was so blind to the inner turmoil of my rival. It is a stain on my perception."
Ataru-as-Lum suppressed a giggle. He reached out and twirled a lock of Mendō’s hair around his finger. "You know, Shū-chan, maybe Ataru isn't the only one with secrets. Maybe you like the attention? Maybe you’ve always wanted a 'brother-in-arms' who understands the burden of being beautiful?"
Mendō’s face turned a brilliant shade of crimson. "I... I admit, the prospect of mentoring a reformed Moroboshi is... not entirely unappealing. To mold him into a gentleman... it would be my greatest achievement."
"Then why wait?" Ataru-as-Lum purred, leaning in closer. "He’s right outside. Go to him. Show him what a real Mendō mentor looks like. Maybe give him a hug? I hear he’s very huggable today."
Mendō stood up, his eyes suddenly burning with a renewed, noble purpose. "You are right, Lum-san! I shall not shy away from this challenge! I shall go to him at once!"
Mendō sprinted out of the room, his white cape flapping behind him. Ataru-as-Lum collapsed onto the desk, howling with laughter.
"This is better than TV!" Ataru-as-Lum wheezed. "Ten, did you see his face? He’s actually going to try and hug himself!"
"You’re a monster, Ataru," Ten said, though he couldn't help but watch the courtyard with morbid curiosity.
Down below, Lum-as-Ataru was trying to escape a group of girls who wanted to know if "Ataru" would join their poetry club. She was backed against a tree when Mendō burst through the crowd like a charging bull.
"MOROBOSHI!" Mendō bellowed.
Lum-as-Ataru winced. "Here we go. Finally, he’s going to try and kill me. Come on, Mendō! Do your worst! Slice me! Dice me!"
Instead of drawing his sword, Mendō skidded to a halt and threw his arms wide. Before Lum-as-Ataru could react, she was pulled into a crushing, aristocratic embrace. Mendō smelled like expensive lavender and desperate pride.
"I am here, Ataru!" Mendō shouted to the heavens. "I accept the burden of your admiration! We shall be rivals no longer! From this day forth, you are the ward of the Mendō Zaibatsu! I shall teach you to appreciate the opera! I shall show you how to properly fold a pocket square!"
Lum-as-Ataru stood frozen, her face pressed against Mendō’s chest. "Mendō-san... please... people are looking."
"Let them look!" Mendō cried, pulling back but keeping his hands firmly on Lum-as-Ataru’s shoulders. "Let them see the dawn of a new era! Come, we shall go to the infirmary and have Sakura-san check your vitals. You look pale from the sheer weight of your emotions!"
"I’m pale because I’m being kidnapped!" Lum-as-Ataru yelled, but Mendō was already dragging her toward the school building.
Ataru-as-Lum watched from the roof, clutching his stomach as he laughed. But his victory was short-lived. A shadow fell over him, cold and sharp. He turned to see Sakura standing there, her priestess robes billowing in the wind, holding a massive, glowing crystal.
"Ten-chan called me," Sakura said, her voice like ice. "He told me about the body swap. And he told me that you, Ataru, were planning to stay in that body forever because you’re a lazy, opportunistic lecher."
Ataru-as-Lum gulped, his flight reflex kicking in. "Now, Sakura-san, let’s not be hasty! I’m just... I’m providing a service! Lum gets to see what it’s like to be a guy, and I get to... well, I get to be a goddess!"
"The balance of the universe is not your personal playground, Moroboshi," Sakura said, raising the crystal. It was the Saturnian mineral Ten had mentioned—the one that was "out of season." Sakura, however, had connections in the spirit world that didn't care about seasons.
"Ten! You traitor!" Ataru-as-Lum shouted, looking for the brat.
Ten popped his head out from behind Sakura’s shoulder. "Sorry, Ataru! But Lum promised me she’d make me a five-course meal if I helped her get her body back. And your mom said if I didn't help, she’d stop making those little sausages I like!"
"You sold me out for sausages?!"
"They’re really good sausages!"
Sakura didn't wait for further debate. She began to chant, the crystal glowing with a fierce, violet light. "By the power of the shifting stars and the scent of the stallion, I command the souls to return to their rightful vessels! Polarity, reverse!"
A beam of purple energy shot from the crystal, striking Ataru-as-Lum mid-air. At that same moment, a secondary beam arced down toward the courtyard, striking Lum-as-Ataru just as she was being forced into a chair by Mendō in the infirmary.
The explosion was silent this time, a ripple in reality that smelled faintly of ozone and old library books.
Ataru felt his soul being yanked through a straw. The softness vanished. The long hair disappeared. The ability to fly was replaced by the heavy, familiar weight of gravity and a slightly itchy school uniform.
*THUD.*
Ataru hit the ground in the courtyard, flat on his face. He scrambled up, checking his chest. "Flat? Flat! I’m flat again! Noooo! My glorious curves! My free donuts!"
A few feet away, Lum sat up, her tiger-striped bikini perfectly in place. She felt her horns, let out a tiny spark of joy from her fingertips, and immediately flew into the air.
"DARLING!" she screamed, her voice back to its beautiful, melodic self.
"Oh, no," Ataru muttered, looking up.
"You were a very naughty boy, Darling!" Lum shouted, her hands crackling with enough electricity to power a small city. "You tried to stay in my body so you could go into the girls' locker room! You’re the worst husband in the galaxy!"
"It was a social experiment!" Ataru yelled, already beginning his sprint toward the gate. "I was learning about the female experience!"
"I’ll give you an experience!"
A massive bolt of lightning slammed into the pavement behind Ataru’s heels. He didn't stop. He didn't look back. He was home.
In the infirmary, Shūtarō Mendō sat on a stool, blinking in confusion. He looked at the empty chair where "Ataru" had been sitting a moment ago. He looked at his hands, which were still shaped as if they were holding a friend’s shoulders.
"Moroboshi?" Mendō asked the empty room.
Sakura walked in, tucking the Saturnian mineral into her sleeve. "He’s gone, Mendō. The 'sensitive' Moroboshi was a temporary side effect of an alien mishap. He’s back to being the same old lecher he’s always been."
Mendō stood up, his face hardening into a mask of pure, aristocratic indignation. He reached for his katana, his grip tightening until his knuckles turned white.