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Just ask him. Now’s the best time. Junior’s asleep, we’re alone— he’s right there. You’ve been meaning to talk to him about this for— okay, since Junior hatched, but whatever. Better late than never.
Bowser draws in a long breath. Just start talking. Just get his attention. He doesn’t even need to look away from the movie they’re watching. “Hey, Kamek?”
Kamek hums lightly as an inquiry.
“When… when do you think I should tell him?” He lightly touches his son, dead asleep in the bend of his arm— three years old, unbelievably tiny, and the brightest unexpected light of his life. He combs a gentle claw through his dull ginger hair.
The movement of Kamek’s turning head catches in the corner of his eye. “Hm? Tell him what?”
“That I… uh…” He can almost literally feel his throat close around the word. Stars, he’s had it for nearly five years now, and he still can’t use it. “You know, the big lie. Except I’d tell him the truth.”
“Oh.” Kamek’s silent for a moment. He’d probably made some sort of face that Bowser doesn’t really want to see. “Does he need to know? Surely, there’s no harm in letting him believe what the kingdom does.”
“Yeah, but… he’s gonna have questions eventually,” Bowser flicks his tail towards the movie, which shows the main character with his father… and mother. “He’s gonna learn how the having kids thing works and he’s gonna ask.”
“And we could tell him what we told the kingdom,” Kamek repeats, gently, not forcefully.
Bowser looks down at Junior, with his dusty yellow scales— far yellower than Bowser’s ever were as a child. A contribute from his other parent, he knows. He wonders which eye colour will end up dominating (it better be his). “Telling him that his—“ his throat tries to shut in on itself again, “his mother was an anonymous volunteer isn’t going to be enough for him. What if he asks more about her, what if he wants to find her?”
“Yes, but… what if he doesn’t care? If you show him enough love, he won’t think to look for more. It’s how I raised you, and to my knowledge you never desired more.”
“Yeah, I guess I didn’t, but… I don’t want to lie to him.”
And that’s the truth, isn’t it? Bowser doesn’t want to have to hide from his own son— he wants to include him in the tiny trio of those who know the truth (those who matter, at least).
“Oh. Are… are you sure that’s wise?” Kamek asks. “Children… aren’t very good at keeping secrets…”
“I wouldn’t tell him tomorrow,” Bowser says. “It’d be until he proves himself. Then I would.” Hopefully that wouldn’t be too late in his life— Bowser would rather it be told sooner than later, so then it doesn’t feel like it was something kept from him. Because if he thinks that, he might be angry— he’s seen that happen enough times in movies, and that’s been a long-held fear of his. “I want him to know. He deserves to know. And what if he ends up like me? I’d want him to tell me if that’s the case.”
Kamek’s quiet for a moment, and glancing at him confirms the suspected ever-worried wrinkle to his beak that he often gets. “If that’s what you want to do… then just be careful of when. Wait until he proves more than once that he can keep a secret. And please tell me when you’re thinking about it— just so I can be ready.”
“Ready?” Bowser tips his head.
“In case it…” Kamek squeezes a sleeve in his fist, “goes badly, with him.”
Bowser’s stomach squeezes. “Kamek, he’s just a kid, he— he won’t care, right?”
Kamek shrugs. “Perhaps he won’t. I… suppose I didn’t really care… It was never about you, it was…”
Bowser growls softly in affirmation. You’ve told me a hundred times, I know. He decides to be generous and keep that to himself— no need to rip open scars, young nor old.
Kamek jerks his head and shoulders in a little shake. “It’s better to… to be aware that it’s a possibility. Him not liking it, I mean. And it’s not just me needing to be ready to help you; he may have questions, and I’d rather know that he may come to me and say something instead of him making me choke on my tea over it.”
Preparing for the worst— that, Bowser can understand. It’s Kamek’s specialty, so of course he’d automatically go there. He chooses to note it and move on, “Why are you drinking tea when he comes to you?”
Kamek smirks, waving a hand. “It’s more of a metaphor. Bur you’ve made me literally choke on it several times with some of the truly out-of-pocket things you’ve said to me.”
Bowser grins, all teeth and cheeky. “But that’s why I save it for when you’re drinking, because it’s fuckin’ hilarious.”
“You’ll be the death of me one day.” Kamek sighs.
“Nah, I’ll just thump you on the back until you can breathe again.”
“That… is not how it works. You’d smash my shell in first, and then we’d really have a problem.”
Bowser barks a laugh and gets shushed for it, even though Junior barely twitches and he’s a proven champ at falling back asleep. He’s also consistently slept through sudden loud noises, but whatever. There’s still a good half n’ hour left on the movie, so he opts to leave their conversation there.
Junior is nearly six years old, now, and he still hasn’t been told the truth. Not even because he hasn’t proven able to keep a secret— that, he’s been doing well since he was four— but mostly because Bowser’s been grappling with anxiety around telling him. He’s probably literally had a million chances to drop the Bob-Omb, and they’ve all been thrown in the trash because of one excuse or another.
“Do you want me to tell him?” Kamek asks, after Bowser had complained to him about his apparent inability to open his mouth and say such a simple sentence.
“No, I want to tell him. I do, I just… grrgggh.” Bowser’s shoulders slump. “What if he hates it?” What if he hates me?
Kamek pats him on the shell. “He adores you, and this isn’t going to change a thing. It may confuse him, but I really believe he’ll take it well. Don’t let my worries take away your wish to be honest with him. Pick a time to tell him, and do it.”
Huh, that’s a real change in tune for Kamek, but he definitely is right about how much Junior loves him. That kid lights up every time he comes in the room, and Bowser’s never heard him call for anyone else with nearly the same joy as he does whenever he cries—
“Papa!”
Well, speak of the devil.
“Hey, kiddo!” Bowser turns a smile to him, arms spreading to catch the little spiked shell that slams into his chest. “What’s up?”
“Oh nuttin’,” Junior says, popping out and turning glittering opal eyes up at him. His smile squishes his round little cheeks to their limit. “I’m bored! Will you play with me?”
“Oh.” Bowser can’t stop the disappointment from biting off the edge of his smile, and then it turns and takes a chomp out of Junior’s, because he noticed (he always notices) and can surely smell the ‘no’ that’s going to hurt Bowser’s heart to say.
“Of course he can,” Kamek says, suddenly patting Bowser’s leg and making him jump. “I’ll take care of things. Your father has something to tell you, after all.”
“He does?!” Junior gasps.
“I do? Wait— Kamek— what the hell?!” Bowser yelps.
Kamek smiles up at him, but arches his brow in a warning not to chicken out. He pats Bowser’s leg again and shuffles off like he hadn’t just left him to his doom.
Bowser hisses after him. You didn’t even want me to tell him— fuck you. Now Junior’s looking up at him all excited, and unless he can craft a good lie— no, no. He wants Junior to know. Kamek is doing him a favour. He needs to stop leaping away from this every time it’s presented to him. “Let’s head to your room—”
“No! My toyroom! I got stuff all set up for us!”
Ah, well, good thing Kamek was able to give Bowser the rest of the day. It always hurts more when he has to tell Junior ‘no’ even when he goes through so much trouble. “Okay, your toyroom, then.”
Bowser shuts the door when they enter, and Junior launches himself out of his arms, running over to a very elaborate castle set-up that’s as tall as he is. “We’re gonna play territory!” Junior ducks behind the castle. “You’re gonna get your soldiers and stuff to take over mine, and I’m gonna fight you off and beat you up and take your castle!” A hand perks up over the castle’s battlements to point to a much smaller one that sits to Bowser’s right, with only a handful of toy Koopa soldiers and pathetic weapons because Junior always takes the good ones (like Bowser doesn’t let him).
He’s probably already forgotten about being told the secret, that’s an opening for— No, he’s telling him. He takes a seat on the floor, pulling in a breath and fixing on a little smile. “In a minute, kid. I got something to tell you, remember?”
“Oh yeah!” Junior knocks his castle to the ground trying to scramble over it, and he squeals on taking the tumble. He’s unharmed, only ruffled.
Bowser rolls his eyes. “It’s a toy, you don’t climb on it.”
“It’s so big, I should be able to,” Junior grumbles, shaking himself out before stomping over to plop down in front of Bowser. His hands pat the ground and his tail swishes back and forth, eyes big and awaiting.
Cold claws are squeezing Bowser’s chest, his heart thunders fast and heavy, snuffing out his breath and clawing his voice down. He draws his tail into his lap so he can fiddle with it and push back the worst of the hesitation.
Junior’s grin isn’t as big now, his excited squirming dialing down. “Is it something bad?” He stiffens, eyes widening. “Am I in trouble?”
“What? No.” Bowser shakes his head. “It’s just uh—“ He swipes his tongue over his muzzle. “I need you to promise me something, first.”
Junior nods, relaxing. “Okay.”
“What I’m going to tell you just stays between you and me. And Grandpapa— he knows. I’d…” He doesn’t want to say he’d get in trouble for it— it’s an understatement, but Junior doesn’t need that sort of weight hanging over him. “It’s a big family secret, and you’re finally old enough that I think you can keep it,” he says instead.
“Duh, I’m great at keeping secrets. Wait, what about Aunt Kammy? Does she know?”
“Oh, she knows.” She messes with it all the time. It’s literally her job. He won’t say that, but omitting it leaves his mouth empty. All that’s left is the damning confession. He’s too far in, he can’t go back now. He wrings his tail in his claws— and it kind of hurts, but he isn’t paying much attention to that.
“Now… can I know?” Junior scoots a little closer. “Can I be in on the family secret?”
Bowser nods. “Yeah, it’s just kind of— it’s—“ He’s fighting back calling it ‘weird’ or ‘odd’ because although both are true, he doesn’t want Junior’s impression to be skewed before he really gets the chance to think about it. Is there an avenue he can use to talk about this? Somehow it to something Junior likes or has watched? Or… he lifts a hand to carefully touch by his eyes. “You remember the we— that I have those black scales by my eyes, right?”
Junior frowns. “You do? When?”
Of course. He’s only ever had the chance to see them when he flees to Bowser’s bed to hide from his night terrors, and they’re black. “Grrugh, never mind.”
“No, answer my question!”
Bowser cringes, digging his claws into his tail— okay, ow, he lets it go and flicks it behind him, out of range. His palms are more durable for that kind of stress. “They’re always there. I cover them up.”
“Wh—“
“Because—“ He swallows, licking his muzzle. His flame chamber feels like it’s boiling over. “Because they’re something only girl Koopas have.”
And he fucking said it.
Junior’s muzzle wrinkles, brows flattening, and he snorts. “Someone did an oopsie, then.”
Bowser laughs, thick clouds of jet-black smoke sputtering out of his mouth. He can’t help it— because he’s so tense, and Junior’s reply is so perfect— “Yeah, someone did do an oopsie. A pretty big one, because—“ shit, shit his throat is closing up, his lungs squeezing so he can’t breathe— “when— when I was your age… everyone thought I was a princess.”
Junior sniffs, looking more offended than anything else. “Why? Because of some stupid black mistake scales?”
“Uh, yeah. B-because those are something only girl Koopas have.”
“But you’re not a girl. You’re my papa.”
A sweet and pretty true thing to say, but he’s completely missing the point— he must think that they’re just one biological glitch, when the truth is that all of Bowser is. “You’re right. I am your Papa, but— but that’s because I said I was. I asked to be crowned king n’stead of the queen everyone said I was gonna be.”
“Uhh… because kings are awesome, and you’re awesome?”
He’s doing such a shit job at this— it’s what he gets for never planning on how to say it. “You’re right, I am awesome, but… no, that’s not why. Gimmie a sec, then you’ll get it.” He wracks his brain— how is he supposed to just spell this out?
…By literally just spelling it out. No using titles, no big implications, he just needs to get down to the core of it. “You know how girls and boys have… uh,” he flips a hand, “those pieces that tell us whether they’re girls or boys?”
Junior nods, moving his hands to pat his knees. “Yeppers.”
“Well, uh… I have the pieces that tell everyone I’m supposed to be a girl.”
It take everything he’s got to maintain a gaze on Junior through all the screeching of his brain’s internal alarms. Junior isn’t reacting much aside from blinking as he turns it over, and continuing his chronic restless fidgeting.
Then his brow furrows. “Wait, but you’re a boy?”
Oh thank the— Bowser just deflates because at least he hadn’t been called a girl— or worse, mama. “Yeah, yeah, I am. Not because I have the right pieces, but because I said no, I’m a boy, and fuck what my body says.”
Junior’s eyes go round. “Ooohh, okay. I get it.” He frowns, lifting a hand to rubs his head. “So? Why’s that a big secret?”
Oof. “Well, uh…” Because the world hates it. Because if the kingdom found out that Bowser is transgender, everything would be over for him. But Junior doesn’t need to be burdened with that. “Because there are a lot of people who would side with what my pieces say instead of what I say. I don’t want to bother with it, and it would… make me very…” just be honest about your feelings, you bastard, “sad if someone tried to tell me my body is right. So I just let them think I’m a boy all the way through.”
Junior makes a face. “That’s weird. You’re the king, so they gotta listen to you.” He sniffs, jerking his tail. Then he blinks and tips his head. “But aren’t you a boy all the way through? You said fuck what your body says, because your body is stupid, and that’s what you want, right?”
—Oh. Junior’s words hit his heart through the quiet shame that kept him from telling him all this time. They heal something that he had processed as normal, instead of broken like it is. But then, he’s torn on how he should take it. Biology… doesn’t really work like that; it has clear-cut labels, and while the two main ends can intermingle, there are still hard rules on what’s male and what’s female. It’s just another example of the fantastical but unrealistic thinking of a child.
But then, rules are so much fun to break, and Bowser likes how Junior thinks; he’s not a boy hiding a girl’s body, he’s a boy in a different kind of boy’s body, but still one through and through because he declares it so. It’s a kind of acceptance that nobody’s ever given him before.
“You’re right,” he says, a soft smile crawling on his face. “A boy all the way through.”
Junior nods. “Exactly. Everyone who disagrees is stupid and dumb.” He hops to his feet and pats Bowser’s knee with a sweet little purr. “Can we play now?” he asks.
“Depends, do you have any questions for me?”
Junior puffs out a cheek. “No. Playtime.”
He really just straight-up doesn’t care. Bowser drops a hand on his head, scrubbing his hair and making him squeal. “Yeah, yeah, playtime. I love you, kid. A lot.”
Junior pushes his hand away. “Yep, I know. Love you too, but now I gotta take you down.” He turns and runs to heave up his fallen castle. He steadies it and growls at the mess of weapons that are strewn all over the floor. “Gr-ugh, I was ready for you! Now I gotta set up for you again!”
Bowser pushes himself to his feet— wow, his legs are not sturdy at all. He did not realise how stressed to high hell that made him— but he ignores it, he’s got a game to play. “I’m not even ready to attack yet.” He lifts bared claws. “But I’m gonna come after you the moment I am, so you better hurry up.”
“Ahh noooo!” Junior hurries to scoop up his toys, hurriedly stuffing them on the battlements and in the windows.
Bowser turns to his sad stock that will never stand a chance against Junior’s fort, tucking away one last controlled breath before he dives into the game. Once they start playing, it helps his hammering heart and shaking hands even more. Things feel normal between them— the news didn’t rock Junior’s world like Bowser was afraid it would. It doesn’t make him even question Bowser’s credibility as his dad.
The only other mention of it is after they’re fought a raging war of toys, when Bowser remembers he wanted to tell Junior that if he ever realises he’d be happier as a girl, that all he has to do is speak up, and it would happen.
“Nah, I like being a boy,” is his response. “Like you.”
That spawns tears in Bowser’s eyes, but he feels too fluttery over an admittedly simple little statement to beat himself up over it. He wipes them away and continues cleaning up. After that, Junior begs to watch a movie with snacks to go with it. They settle in the television room, food piled around them, and Junior’s favourite film starting up on the screen.
And later, after the movie has ended and Junior’s bedtime story has been attended to, Bowser gazes at himself in the only mirror he keeps in his room— the little one perched atop his small dresser that he references for applying his concealer every single morning. Usually, he never looks at it to wipe it off, but today, he does, staring at the spattering of eye ash scales that scar him female.
They still can turn his stomach, some days. But even though today was stressful, he only feels a light twinge of disgust. He grazes a claw over them. Boy all the way through, according to Junior’s logic. Meaning these belong to a boy… and that’s me. A little smile rises to his face. I’m the boy who has them. His tail flicks in a little wag. It doesn’t smother out the shame that’s dictated most of his life, but it quiets it.
He’s definitely going to invest in dedicating himself to that line of thinking.