Kiri to Human
 

One of my oldest characters (who time turns into something of a badass) gets the bright idea to try being human for one year. this is the chaos that ensues. it isn't perfect, and i welcome and appreciate suggestions, but please keep them polite. this is, also, an original work, and it belongs to me. do not copy it, or use characters or pieces of it for any purpose without express permission

The vial of clear liquid sat on Kiri’s workbench and looked innocent; she didn’t dare think of it as such. Her abdomen throbbed and she took out a pen, two sheets of paper and an envelope for each; then she began her letters. She wrote the one to her brother—Ambrey—and her partner in crime—Soten—first, then she started the one to her spouse—Youko—to give him the instructions to care for their home. She’d taken over the maintenance when she’d been injured, but had been forced to do it very slowly; she hated that; she couldn’t stand any more of it.
She wanted to explain what she was thinking and feeling to the people who were close to her, she wanted them to understand. So she wrote until her head was empty of words and then she sealed the envelopes, and put them on the stool when she stood up.
Kiri went to her Bloodplant in the corner, and held her palm over the leaves. She slit it with one claw and waited until the cut healed of its own accord, the blood seeped onto the leaves and was drawn inside immediately. When the cut was healed she went back to her workbench and began putting away her bottles and jars—she put them on their shelves where they had corresponding labels and dusted the worn wooden shelves that she’d brought with her when she moved to her spouse’s home. The Bloodplant called to her; told her that she should stay—she just shook her head and continued her work. Everything was dusted one last time and then she scrubbed her workbench with harsh soap. To give herself a little time, she watched the wood dry; she decided that she wasn’t going to back out—she took the cap off of the vial and drank the contents; the last sight she had was the wet wood of her workbench and then it was black.

Sarah’s alarm went off at 6:00 AM and she rolled off of the couch to turn it off. She stood and considered the boxes around her—which one was clothes again? —and fought a wave of dizziness. She decided which box it was that she wanted by the permanent marker on the top and rummaged for her clothes; she went to take a shower. The utilities hadn’t been turned on yet; the water was cold and the stove wouldn’t turn on so she couldn’t make breakfast from the instant oatmeal on the counter. The lights weren’t on yet either, and she had to use a flashlight to make sure that she had all of the paperwork she needed before she left her brand new apartment. She’d chosen it because the tenants had left good reviews online—for both price and a pleasant owner, who was his own manager.
She was early, and as her half dead car sputtered down the main street, she decided to stop at the coffee shop for a caffeine fix and a bagel. She ate half of the bagel before nerves took over; she threw away the last part of the bagel and continued to the high school. She brought her paper work to a receptionist who didn’t seem to want anything to do with Sarah or her papers.
“You know, because you’re transferring in as a senior, you wont qualify for valedictorian.”
“If that was a problem, I would have stayed in Michigan.” She smiled nicely at the woman.
“…Well. Do you want a guide for your first day? … Just so you don’t get lost.”
“If there’s someone who can.”
“There is, he’s signed up for all of the classes you are, so I’ll put you in his periods.”
“Alright, thank you ma’am.” She forced a smile as the receptionist paged someone on the loudspeaker. The woman ignored Sarah after that, and she went to sit in one of the chairs by the window. She finally allowed her head to spin; moving on your own was a lot of work.
A tall boy with dark hair and blue eyes that she could see across the room walked in; the receptionist turned to him with a vicious frown on her face, “Christian Alexander Hunter! I’ve had about enough of you skipping your classes! You will keep your butt in class or I will make eight hours of your life a living hell! I’m not going to give you detention, because I know you have to watch Chad while your mother’s at work, but if I have to call her in the middle of the day, she’s not going to be happy. In the meantime, you have to take the new one around the school, she has all of your classes.”
“Alright.” He grimaced.
“It’s your own darned fault—you were the one who was ditching class.”
“I know. Are you coming over for dinner on Wednesday, Linda?”
“Yeah, Bob and I’ll bring the kids.”
“I’ll let mom know. See ya.” He led Sarah outside and the tour began