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When Fransizka arrives home from work one afternoon, there’s a package on top of the dining table. That in itself is not unusual—Maya has a habit of dropping the mail on the table when she is too lazy to sort through it, and her Steel Samurai merch collecting hobby meant that packages were to be expected.
No, this time the package is addressed to Franziska, and he knows exactly what it is for.
He doesn’t receive mail often, considering that he’s frequently abroad working with Interpol and never in one spot long enough to anticipate mail. However, Maya invited him to move in with her recently and he had gracefully accepted, which meant he had a permanent address for the first time in his life instead of living in dormitories and the different hotels he had gotten accustomed to in his adult life.
Franziska doesn’t get that same gleeful expression Maya does when opening up mail, but there is still a sense of eagerness and anticipation as he pulls apart the plastic packaging. Inside is a chest binder, his first step out of many in discovering what gender truly means to him.
He purchased it a few nights ago after complaining to Maya that the appearance of his chest gives him more discomfort than he truly wanted to admit. Maya then helped get his measurements to order the right size.
“I was surprised to find out that it arrived so fast,” a voice calls, and Franziska looks up to find Maya standing in the entrance of the kitchen. A soft laugh bubbles from her, and she approaches Franziska to kiss his cheek. “Hi, babe.”
In return, Franziska kisses Maya’s forehead, pushing the bangs away from her face. “Hello, darling. And of course it arrived quickly, the website promised two-day shipping, did it not?”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ve got blood money to burn—go try it on!”
Maya doesn’t let Franziska get a word in before she gently tugs his arm to drag him to the bathroom to try on said binder.
Franziska can’t help but feel a little bit nervous upon staring at the garment. On the surface, it looks like a sports bra, though the lack of flexibility within the fabric proves otherwise. He peers at it for a moment, wondering if it will really help him the same way it has helped others like him.
He supposes there is only one way to find out.
Franziska undoes the buttons on his shirt and unclasps his bra before slipping his arms through the binder. Piece of cake.
… is what he would’ve loved to say, but he seems to have underestimated just how tough it would be to put this on considering the tough material.
He’s stuck—he’s in an awkward position where he can’t move his elbows to pull the binder down.
Franziska tries wiggling his way out of this mess, but he doesn’t get anywhere with his limited range of motion. This was a mistake, he should’ve never tried this. How his little brother’s foolish boyfriend manages to wear one every day is a mystery. Maybe he read the sizing chart wrong, or maybe his measurements are off, or maybe—
Before Franziska can stew in his frustrations, there is a light knock against the bathroom door.
“Franzy, babe, are you alright?” Maya asks.
“...Yes,” Franziska says, though there is a croak in his voice that gives him away.
“Unlock the door,” Maya says gently.
He complies, crouching down and blindly feeling the wall with his hand until he finds the doorknob. It clicks, and Franziska can hear the door creak open.
Franziska huffs. “Go ahead, laugh at me.”
Maya does nothing of the sort. “I’m not going to do that. Here, let me help you,” she says, and Franziska can only imagine the silly, fond look over her face.
“Nick got stuck in his binder quite often when getting used to wearing it,” Maya explains. “It just takes some practice getting in and out of it at first.” She carefully tugs on the garment to pull it down over Franziska’s bust. Franziska’s hair is all tousled now, but Maya carefully pushes away his bangs and combs through the back with her fingers.
She steps away, allowing Franziska to examine the way the binder looks in front of the mirror. Now that Franziska is wearing it properly, he finds that it fits well and serves its purpose of creating the illusion of a flat chest.
Stray tears roll down his cheeks. “I’m not crying,” Franziska says out of habit, which only makes him cry more.
“I think you look great,” Maya says with a hum as she wraps her arms around her boyfriend’s midsection.
“Objection,” Franziska mumbles, wiping the tears away from his eyes. “You’re biased. You think I look good in everything.”
“Which you do.”
“I appreciate the flattery, Maya darling.”
“It’s not flattery if it’s the truth,” Maya tells him, “you really do look great. And I know you know it too.”
Franziska wants to believe that, though he is still hesitant—he doesn’t really look like a boy yet, most people probably wouldn’t pay attention to the binder if he were to wear it out in public as his features are still that of a young woman’s. The most acknowledgment he gets regarding his transition is that scruffy detective calling him ‘sir,’ which started long before Franziska came to terms with his identity.
Yet, he concedes, because the only opinions that truly matter are his own and his girlfriend’s, not the unconscious part of his brain that tries to instill self-doubt and sounds dangerously like his disgraced papa’s voice.
His papa’s image of Franziska is not one that makes Franziska happy; it is up to Franziska and Franziska alone to decide what it means to be a von Karma. To him, a von Karma is confident in all aspects of life, no matter what.
A smile makes its way onto Franziska’s face. “Objection withdrawn. I love you.”
“Love you too,” Maya says with a grin. “I’ll help you out of this, then we can make dinner together.”
A warm feeling blooms in Franziska’s chest. He feels incredibly lucky to have Maya Fey in his life.