Kobudai 0.5

Kobudai reached out for the maroon and charcoal BioNen Suit that conformed to every part of the body. Enter Passcode pulsated in an aqua hue on the palm of the suit. Kobudai entered the four-digit code used for the past 15 years: 8-2-4-5.

A sharp hiss exuded from Kobudai’s BioNen Suit as it morphed to hug every fiber of the wearer. Biometrics and Nen energy of the user verified a proper fit.

“Perfect!” cheered Kobudai who relished in smooth transitions in all aspects of life.

Of the 2.5 sexes on Cossyphus, Kobudai is one of the 0.5. Androgenous, Kobudai proclaims neither male nor female…yet. This form of sex only counts as 0.5, because once a partner is realized, Kobudai will fully become one or the other.

Kobudai and the remaining 0.5s uncomplainingly await the day they are no longer an in-between straggler of a failed human experiment based on remnant recessive or mutated genes.

“Labridae, there you are!” exhaled Kobudai gasping for wind to replenish the lungs. Kobudai found a primary friend of many years lingering alongside the sparkling brook on the eastmost edge of their territory. The rivulet matched Labridae’s inquisitive eyes.

“Mid-day greetings, Kobudai. I thought it would be a waste to spend my break in Stellar 7 when Partition D is experiencing such a beautiful day.” Labridae’s salutation remained the same even after 15 years. The only portion that changed was the time of day.

Something about the predictability always struck Kobudai. Maybe it was like what they called a mother’s love or father’s protection in the Written Relics.

“You won’t believe what I just found in the Written Relics,” squealed a jubilant Kobudai. Kobudai clearly wanted to blurt out the most recent findings without even waiting for Labridae’s acknowledgement to continue.

“Ah, the Written Relics again,” puffed Labridae, twirling a pointer finger whimsically in the air as if doodling a caricature. Labridae’s body was the same general shape as Kobudai’s, give or take. But Labridae always stood out in a skin-tight layer of hunter green and lacquer black.

“There used to be this practice called kissing. At the most basic level, two people would press their lips together. Other stages advanced to opening the mouth and inserting one’s tongue in the other person’s mouth. If I remember correctly, this was called the French version. The most advanced levels included doing the practice of kissing not just on the lips. And there is this mystery that men could find another set of lips to kiss on a female.” Kobudai was nearly winded after spewing out the latest findings.

“Whoa. Slow down, Kobudai. Would you like a drip of Di-hydrogen Mono-oxygen?”

“Do you want to try it?”

“Try what?”

“The practice called kissing.”

“I guess it sounds interesting. But what would be the point?”

“You like testing out theories and exploring…”

“…Yes, but that is science and items on the terraform surface.”

“‘Expand your horizons’, as they say in the Written Relics. Try something a little different from your normal, Labridae!” Kobudai ended the suggestion by squinting the right eye closed for a second, tilting the head slightly to the right, and opening the right eye again in rapid succession.

“What are the requirements and parameters for this practice of kissing?”

“Hmmm. I would say the main requirement is our lips. The parameters seem to include a special place and time. But there are instances of the surprise factor, the practice happening suddenly.”

Kobudai and Labridae met that evening under the venerable tree with long hair dangling from withered, weathered branches during the Congregation of Endless Nights.

“Hello, Labridae. This is so exciting!”

“End-day greetings, Kobudai.” Labridae’s salutation kept the same format even after 15 years. The only part that changed was the time of day. “You find equal excitement in all things old and new. So how does the practice of kissing begin?”

For the first time, Kobudai relied on actions instead of words to explain. Kobudai, with chin pointing upwards, touched top lip to Labriade’s top lip, touched bottom lip to Labridae’s bottom lip, and pushed forward gently with a steady application of pressure.

A jarring vibration emanated from Kobudai and Labridae’s BioNet Suits. This was pain. Nothing like the thing called warmth from a mother’s love or father’s protection. A crimson glow from the palm of the BioNet Suit drew their attention. A message never seen before by either held a fixed orbit on their palm, Reset Your Passcode.

“What do we do, Kobudai?”

“There is no Written Relic about this.”

In a time where there are 2.5 sexes (male, female, and androgenous), does biology trump human ingenuity? The androgenous become male or female when a partner is chosen. But what happens when biology selects a 0.5 to be with another 0.5? Does it equal 1, 2, or something else? And what determines which one becomes male and which one female?