When Button awoke to the ringing of his dorm phone, he groaned as he rose from the bed and shambled through the darkness to the table upon which the cacophonous device sat. “Mmmhullo?” he said, as he rubbed his dry eyes. Without any windows in his room, there was no natural light and no judging time outside, so his tired mind was left with nothing to base on other than it’s probably morning.

“Oh, are you just waking up?” the caller asked, her voice hesitant. “I can call back later if now’s a bad time.”

He dragged his palm down his face before glancing at the digital display on the dresser beside his bed. Apparently, it was just after noon. “You actually woke me up, but it’s fine, Sweetie Belle.” Ruffling his mane, he turned back to flick on a desk lamp. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. I think I maybe got three hours of sleep at most. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to check up on you,” she replied. From her end of the phone, he could hear the occasional clicking of a pen, and it wasn’t hard for him to imagine her sitting at the table in her dorm room, poring over an assignment as they spoke. “After everything that happened yesterday, I was kinda worried about where your head was at.”

It was... surprising to hear that from her. Yeah, Silver Spoon’s letter said Sweetie had feelings for him, but it was the way she said it; it wasn’t just a friend’s concern. She spoke like someone who would be more than genuinely hurt if something happened to him. But she said so herself; she doesn’t swing that way.

“A little worse for wear, but I’m nowhere near as bad as I was last night,” he replied after a moment’s thought. “I’m just tired more than anything else and... I guess I really don’t know what to think about all this.” Sitting on the edge of the table, he eyed the newspaper that was left open on the local events page. On it was a posting about a gaming tournament. “I kinda wanna talk about it all, but at the same time, I want nothing more than to just do something that makes me feel a bit more like me. Are you free this afternoon?”

On the other end of the line, there was a shuffling of papers and a grunt from Sweetie. “I was going to spend some time on the music program’s monthly extra credit work, but I can hang out for a bit,” she said happily. “Did you have something in mind? Or did you just wanna meet up somewhere and see where our hooves take us?”

His lips pulled up into a grin, and he couldn’t help but giggle. “Are you still as good at Hot Trot Fever as I remember?”

“Well, I still hit the arcade when I’m feeling nostalgic to see if anyone’s beaten any of my scores. Why?”

“Arcade Heaven, over on the corner Platinum and Clover is holding an open doubles HTF tourney in a few hours,” he answered happily. Sliding off the table, Button stared at the chest of drawers holding some of his feminine outfits. “You interested?”

“A tournament? Really?” The offer seemed to have caught her off guard. “I remember a colt who scoffed at being seen at such a girly tournament back when there was one in Ponyville. Why now?”

“Because now, I have a chance to reconcile what I’m becoming with who I am.”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. “What you’re... So you’re going to keep going then?” She sounded confused and hurt, but not angry. “After what they put you through, you’re still going to keep up with the hormones?”

Button’s smile left him then, as the train of thought that had kept him awake all night and most of the morning returned. With a sigh, he cast his eyes to the floor. “I know what you’re probably thinking, Sweetie Belle, but it has nothing to do with the sex.” He replied softly. “I can’t deny that what they did to me hurts, and that I was taken advantage of, but at the same time, I have a lot more self-esteem than I did before. It might be taking the easier way out, but that hardship and all of their training... it’s made me a better pony.” He snapped his fingers and a lopsided grin spread across his face. “So they stole a bit of my dignity. For all the confidence they’ve given me, I think it’s a fair trade.”

After a shower, some thorough brushing, and a dose of hormones, Button felt much better than he had upon awakening. It occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten a thing since yesterday afternoon but there would be no getting fed without first dressing. Oh, it’d create quite a stir, me walking out clad in nothing but a pair of panties and the nightie I wore to bed. But if I’m going to really make this reality of my choosing, it has to be done with elegance and poise.

Standing before the dresser, he pondered just what to wear. I know some of these are out of the question in regards to going public. Nothing Dia—none of the clothes they got me are outright slutty, but I want to send the right message. Some of the things in here were clearly intended to be sexy, which while not inherently bad, did not get the right point across; there was no point in giving anybody the wrong impression. Something feminine, but not overly showy; it has to say that I’m confident and comfortable in who I am.

It still needed to be something he’d be comfortable exercising in, so none of the tight-fitting jeans or skirts would do any good in the tournament. Likewise, whatever top he wore would need to be loose enough to allow him to keep cool. Were it not for the fact that it had yet to go through the wash—nevermind the fact that he had only just worn it—he would have gone with yesterday’s choice. Needless to say, there weren’t many choices in his current wardrobe that met the criteria.

In the end, he ended up going with a dress he’d worn on an excursion with Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara to a fancy party. It was a light pink affair, not unlike the purse he often used. With its ruched front, loose-flowing sleeves, lace-paneled shoulders, and waterfall hem, the dress was nothing if not cute, feminine, and confident. As a plus, it was cut in a way that emphasized his developing chest rather than relying on the silicone inserts necessary to fill out some of the other outfits. Even with the flowy skirt, so long as he wore compression shorts, not a thing could be said about his modesty.

Adorned in pink, and accentuated by white knee-highs and a pair of stylish, but comfy, trainers, Button strode out of his room. While being in public en femme was old hat by this point, the anxiety stemming from crossing the point of no return—or had that happened in days long past?—was a new beast entirely. The familiar weight of the purse bouncing at his hip helped ease a bubble of self-doubt that was forming in the pit of his stomach, but it could do nothing to lessen the excitement taking hold of him.

This early into the afternoon, there were plenty of other students in the hall, coming to and fro their dorm rooms. All of them stopped and stared as he walked past, either dumbstruck or amused. A few of them even took out their mobile phones to snap a picture. In spite of it all, nobody he encountered seemed outright appalled by his garb. A few from the gay crowd were even flashing him a thumbs-up. There were smiles all around, and he couldn’t help but blush and return some of them.

The bolstering effect of their good cheer added a happy bounce to his step. Maybe my unease was unfounded, he thought with a smile as he exited the hallway into the common-room lobby. Maybe everybody is a lot more accepting of transmares than I first thought.

“Are you seein’ what I’m seein’, Snails?” a familiar and much dreaded voice said off to his left.

After a moment’s pause, a monotonous voice spoke up. “I think so, but it seems kind of early for the Pride Parade.”

Button didn’t look; he couldn’t. If he acknowledged their presence, he would only give them exactly what they wanted. They weren’t worth his time anyway; his time spent with the girls had shown him that the extent of their power was in words and brute force, and that even with his newfound confidence, it was unladylike to lower himself to their level. Just keep walking. There’s nothing they can—

A hand clamped down on his shoulder before he could go any further. All too soon, he felt himself being lead into the corner of the room by Snips and Snails, the blundering unicorn duo responsible for his initial involvement with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. The smiles on their faces as they boxed him in were nothing like the encouraging smiles from the guys in the halls; these were of gleeful malice, like a cat that had cornered a mouse after a months-long feud.

“Heya buddy,” the shorter unicorn said in a mocking tone. “We couldn’t help but notice you ain’t under the protection of them bitches no more.”

How could they even know that?! his mind screamed in protest. That only happened last night, and I didn’t even get a say in it! Had they really turned on him so quickly after only one night? Was all of this really enough to rat him out to Snips and Snails as they had done when he was trapped in the women’s room?

The taller one let out a chuckle. “Yeah,” he added loudly, turning just enough to give anybody looking a look at what happened next. With a loud guffaw, he grabbed the hem of Button’s dress and flipped it up, revealing his tight gray compression shorts and the panty outline to all who would look. “We just wanted to check in with our favorite little sissy-colt and make sure we’re still friends.”

He smacked the taller jerk’s hands away from the hem of his dress and glared. “Back off, guys,” Button said firmly. “You really do not want to do this.”

Snips raised a bushy eyebrow. “Oooh, ya hear that? We don’t wanna do this after all!” he parroted mockingly. “With how you’re dressed and how girly your voice sounds now, I bet you’d crumple in a stiff breeze.”

Again, Snails guffawed and, lighting up his horn, once more lifted the hem of the dress. “Heh, stiff,” he mumbled. “I bet I know something stiff that Butts here likes, and it ain’t a drink, ya know? Such a fag.”

Rolling his eyes, he tried to keep his cool as he spoke. “I know in the past I haven’t stood up for myself, but you know that the institute doesn’t look kindly on bullying.” He bared his teeth. “Imagine Celestia and Luna will take you harassing a transgendered student in the process of transitioning simply because they’re different. Never mind being expelled from this institute—you’ll never get into any college or university in Equestria with a hate crime on your records. Not a one.”

The shorter ruffian blanched at the implication that he might not be able to get into barber college. The taller of the two, on the other hand, didn’t seem to get the picture. “Hate crime, what are you talking about?! It’s not a hate crime!”

Button was saved on that point by the dorm’s approaching resident advisor. “Actually, Snails,” the gruff stallion said, “Laws were recently passed making bullying a crime throughout Equestria.” The RA nodded towards Button before pulling Snips and Snails away. “If what... she says is true, and you are harassing her out of bias, I think that you’ll find that you’ll be packing your bags a lot sooner than graduation. Not just for bullying, but sexual harassment. Drop it.”

The gravity of the situation finally began to sink in for Snails, and he released his magical grip on the hem of the dress. “Uh, we don’t want any trouble, really!” Snips whimpered, backpedaling. “We were just messing around, honest!”

“Uh, yeah!” Snails agreed. “Messing around.”

The RA gave them both a stern look before turning to Button. “Do you wish to lodge a complaint?” he asked. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

Button shook his head. “They may be a pair of idiots, but I’m not vindictive enough to ruin their lives out of spite.” He fixed his eyes on the pair of young stallions and shrugged. “So long as they remember that I chose mercy and leave me alone, I am content letting them go.”

“You heard her, boys,” he said, waving a hand in dismissal. “Get while the getting’s good.”

Heart pounding in his chest, Button smiled as he watched his bullies retreat into the hallway with haste. They’d left him alone when he was with the girls because they were Sunset Shimmer’s goons, and as her goons, they had to respect the wishes of her associates. They ignored him then because he’d been one of their toys, but now they were backing off because he had taken a stand—well, and because they’d been caught. This wasn’t possible because he’d rolled over and taken it; it was because he became Dee Pad.

Stepping forward, he was once again stopped by a hand clasping his shoulder. “We need to have a talk about this, Button Mash,” the RA said. “The resident advisors are usually notified when one of their charges begins transition so that we can begin making arrangements with the other dormitory. I haven’t heard a word about this from the councilors or any of the staff. To say this is outside protocol is a bit of an understatement.”

His ears drooped, and he turned to look past the RA. “I understand, sir,” Button replied. “Can it wait until later though? I kind of had plans with a friend, and it would be rude to renege at the last moment.”

The stallion gave him an appraising look. “This evening, then,” he replied. “It will work out better schedule-wise for everybody you’ll need to speak to anyways.”

Button nodded before taking a step forward. “Of course, sir. Oh, and from now on, the name is Dee Pad.”

Author's Notes:

Sorry for the big delay on this relatively short chapter. A variety of things came up, up to and including creative drain, video games, not feeling incredibly great, editor's life, video games, and LP watching, that resulted in this chapter getting delayed by quite a bit. Hopefully the wait will not be as long for the next chapter.

That being said, I've got some Dee-lightful news. The way the next chapter works is going to be a bit Dee-fferent. Dee-pending on your expectation, you might not be Dee-ssapointed. You might even say you're in for some Dee-licious drama next chapter.