Being Karkat Vantas: A DaveKat Fanfiction

Kanaya ==> Prologue

You and your best friend, KARKAT VANTAS, used to spend a lot of time together as children. His mother would bring him over to play while she and your mother caught up. You always enjoyed his company. Most of the time, the two of you would play dress up. You'd bring out your finest dresses and jewelry and go downstairs to put on fashion shows for your mothers. As time went on, it turned into something more. You'd sit on your bed, putting makeup on him as the two of you watched Mean Girls. During your sleep overs, you'd gossip about the people at school while reading Vogue. Being as young as you were at the time, the red flags didn't go up. It seemed normal to you because that's how it had always been between you and him. That didn't change until 7th grade.
You were at one of your sleep overs, sitting on your bed as his new favorite movie, Hitch, played in the background. You'd been keenly aware of his quiet nature as soon as he'd arrived, but you said nothing about it, assuming he would tell you about it if he felt the need to. At the time, you were in the process of painting his nails, biting your lip in concentration. He'd been going on about some guy in his English class who supposedly broke up with his girlfriend because she was talking to some other guy who turned out to be her cousin. You weren't really listening, too absorbed in your work to fully process the story.
After a short while, once you were halfway through painting his toenails, he grew silent a moment. It took him a minute for him to find his voice. Once he finally did, it was quiet and timid, "Kanaya...? Can I ask you something...?"
You glanced up at him, studying his worried expression a moment before returning your gaze to his nails once again, "Of course, dear. What seems to be the trouble?"
Karkat swallowed thickly, staring at the television so he wouldn't have to face you, "You'd be my friend no matter what, wouldn't you?"
You stopped, lost in hesitation before quickly finishing his last nail. You screwed on the lid of the nail polish onto the bottle and set it aside, sitting up straight to give him your full attention. Moving cautiously, you tilted his chin so he'd be looking at you, "Absolutely. Why would you ask something like that?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish, "I guess I should just get this over with, huh? Just promise that you won't hate me..." You nodded, motioning for him to continue. He took a deep breath and looked you dead in the eye, "Kanaya, I think I want to be a girl."
You couldn't help but break into a wide smile, pulling him into your arms and holding him tightly, "I'll teach you everything I know," You whispered to him, and you did. His confession brought the two of you closer than it ever had. You were his rock and he was yours. The two of you went shopping together, got your nails done together, and did everything you used to before. You taught him how to do his makeup and his hair (at least once it grew out more). You also passed down all your knowledge on fashion. It was almost as if you'd become his mentor. Once you began to make your own clothes, you made him a whole new wardrobe. He often volunteered to be your model, just as he did before you knew his secret. You were there to support him when he told his parents, too. Both of them were very accepting, especially his mother, who was more than happy to hand down her own knowledge of the feminine ways. You'd even gotten him his first bra and showed him how to stuff it until he could get his gender medically changed.
Everything was wonderful and content for a long time. By the time the two of you were in college, he was a pro. The two of you couldn't have been happier and you personally couldn't have been more proud.

That is, until Dave Strider strutted his way into the picture and turned both of your worlds upside down.