Aftermath Part 1
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Alright, here we go, this one’s a little long, so grab a drink and bear with me. Everything you see here, including the images, is completely fictional.
The air in the room was suffocatingly warm, heavy with a sweet scent that made my head spin. I couldn't think clearly. My thoughts were wrapped in a thick, grey fog.
I felt this sensation of thin straps digging into my shoulders and the restrictive weight of a tight choker around my neck. A heavy chest pressed against my back, pinning me to the mattress. His hands were grabbing my breasts, sliding down my waist to grip my hips with a bruising entitlement. I couldn’t see the man holding me; his face seemed hidden by something, but his grip was undeniable. It was strong and possessive.
His breath brushed my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
"You belong to me now. You are my perfect girl, aren't you... Hina?"
My lips parted. I tried to scream. I tried to bite my tongue. I tried to force the name Haruto through my teeth.
"Yes, darling"
The voice wasn't mine. It was breathy, high, and desperate to please.
As soon as I felt something penetrating me,
I heard something loud. The piercing sound of my smartphone alarm shattered the dream.
I bolted upright, a sharp gasp tearing through my throat. My hands instantly flew to my neck, fingers frantically searching for the leather choker.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Inhale. Exhale. I focused on the real world. The faint hum of the refrigerator. The distant rumble of a delivery truck down on the Tokyo streets.
I opened my eyes. The hazy, repressive penthouse was gone. Cool, grey morning light coming into my room window. I was sitting on my own mattress, wearing my oversized grey pyjama pants and a loose white shirt.
I reached back, wrapping my hand around the thick mass of my waist-length black hair tied at my neck.
I was here. I was twenty-eight. I was Haruto Akiyama.
I ran a hand over my face, wiping away the cold sweat, and let out a long, dry exhale.
"Well," I muttered to the empty room, my voice settling into its familiar rhythm. "That's one way to wake up."
I threw off the blanket and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. The anxiety was coming back again.
Today was the day. After months of absence, of clinical adjustments, of isolating myself in this apartment to relearn how to be normal again, I was going back to work. Back to my old office. Back to the office lights, and the people who knew the man I was before.
I pushed myself up from the bed, feeling the heavy ponytail against my back. It was time to get ready.
I got up, my legs feeling a bit heavy, and walked out into the hallway. The faint, comforting smell of freshly brewed tea and toasted bread drifted from the kitchen.
"Good morning, Haruto," my mother's voice called out. She was already at the stove, her tone warm and perfectly steady over the sound of a sizzling pan.
"Morning, Mom," I replied back, my voice still a little tense from the lingering anxiety of the dream.
Morning light slipped through the frosted window above the sink, bathing the small room in a soft glow. The mirror was still slightly fogged around the edges from my mother's shower earlier. It blurred everything except the centre, where my face stared back at me.
I looked exhausted. Which was not surprising.
Nightmares had a way of making eight hours of sleep feel like none at all.
I quickly brushed my teeth, slipped into the bathroom and closed the door. The hot water of the shower helped wash away the cold sweat of the nightmare. I stood under the spray for a long time, letting the heat sink into my tense muscles.
Washing my hair still took longer than I liked.
Back when it barely reached my ears, I could finish showering in ten minutes. Now, I worked shampoo carefully through waist-length strands before rinsing it out and repeating the process with conditioner. It was routine now, but every so often I caught myself remembering how unfamiliar it had once seemed.
By the time I stepped out, wrapped a towel around my breast and another around my hair, the bathroom mirror had completely fogged over.
I wiped away a circle with my hand.
There I was again.
No dream this time.
Back in my bedroom, today's clothes waited neatly folded across the bed. I dried off and began the routine.
This was where the reality of my situation always hit the hardest. I pulled on a standard pair of men's dark underwear, but then came the issue.
I reached into the drawer and pulled out a normal, plain, white bra. It was purely an unavoidable necessity. Over the last few years, my body had changed drastically, and leaving my breasts unsupported beneath a dress shirt wasn't just uncomfortable; it was physically painful and painfully obvious. The familiar motion of fastening it behind my back had become almost automatic. I hated how natural it felt now, yet I couldn't deny the relief once it was in place. My breasts no longer felt heavy with every movement.
Next came my office uniform: the crisp white dress shirt and the navy-blue trousers. After pulling on my white undershirt, I slipped into my dress shirt. I'd hoped that it would hide a bit of the shape, but it didn't erase the shape of my body, but it softened it enough that I could stop thinking about it every few seconds.
I buttoned the shirt. Tucked it neatly into my trousers. Fastened my belt. Then tied my navy tie.
I sat down in front of the mirror to finish getting ready.
The hairdryer hummed softly.
Long black strands flowed over my shoulders as I brushed through them with care, making sure there wasn't a single tangle left. Healthy hair had become another responsibility I'd never asked for, yet neglecting it wasn't an option anymore.
Once it was completely dry, I gathered everything behind my head. Both hands moved almost entirely on instinct.
A ponytail settled neatly against the back of my neck, the long length falling straight down my waist.
"...Done."
Then my hand drifted toward the small organizer beside the mirror.
For a heartbeat, my fingers hovered over an empty corner.
Looking for my makeup pouch.
Months ago, after deciding to return to living as Haruto again, I'd packed everything away into a storage box.
Foundation. Mascara. Lip tint. Eyeliner.
I hadn't touched them since.
My hand stopped.
A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
"Almost."
Instead, I reached for my moisturizer.
Then sunscreen and a little lip balm.
I stepped out into the hallway and stopped in front of the full-length mirror near the entryway. I stood there, gripping my black briefcase tightly, the navy tie knotted at my collar. I looked at the reflection. Despite the men's cut of the trousers, the formal tie, and the severe lack of makeup, the person staring back at me didn't look like a male office worker named Haruto. Despite the softer facial features and despite the looser fit of the shirt, the way the white shirt stretched unavoidably across my chest or breasts despite my efforts, if someone passed me on the street without knowing me...They probably wouldn't think, That's a salaryman. They'd probably think...A woman wearing men's office clothes. I let out a soft sigh, my hand nervously adjusting my collar.
I walked into the small dining area and took my seat at the table. Mom set down a plate of tamagoyaki and rice in front of me, taking the seat across from me with her own cup of tea. She watched me for a moment,
"You look handsome."
I laughed softly.
"You don't have to say that just because you're my mother."
"I wasn't."
She smiled as she poured tea.
"I mean it."
I sat down across from her.
Breakfast was simple but comforting.
"Did you sleep alright?" she asked.
"Mostly," I deflected, taking a small bite of the egg. "Just... pre-work nervousness, I guess."
She nodded slowly. Her gaze tilted briefly toward my chest area before meeting my eyes again. "Did you put the bra on, Haruto?”
I felt a sudden, intense rush of heat rise to my cheeks, and I quickly looked down at my bowl. "Yeah, Mom. I did."
"Good," she said practically, her tone completely devoid of judgment. "You need the support, especially if you're going to be sitting at a desk all day or carrying files around. There's no shame in taking care of your body as it is right now. It's just clothes, Haruto."
She reached across the table, her hand resting warmly over mine. "You're going to be fine today. It's just a job, and they are lucky to have your back."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding out; this helped me a lot. "Thanks, Mom."
I finished my breakfast quickly, the clock on the wall ticking relentlessly toward my departure time. I stood up, grabbing my briefcase from the chair beside me.
"Good luck today," Mom smiled from the dining table as I headed for the door. "Call me if you need anything. Anything at all."
"I will. See you tonight," I replied. I turned the handle, pushed the door open, and stepped out into the morning air.
The morning rush had already begun by the time I reached the station.
Streams of people moved through the ticket gates with efficiency, barely looking up from their phones as they flowed toward the platforms.
Business suits, school uniforms, shopping bags, coffee cups—it was the same rhythm I'd once been part of without ever noticing.
Now every step felt strangely conscious.
I adjusted the strap of my briefcase against my shoulder and joined the crowd.
The low ponytail resting against my back shifted gently as I walked.
My center of balance had changed months ago, but my body still reminded me of it every morning. My stride had become naturally shorter. My shoulders no longer swung as broadly as they once had. Even beneath the support of the bra and the loose dress shirt, I could feel the subtle weight of my breasts moving with each step.
Some days I barely thought about it.
Today I noticed everything.
The platform filled quickly.
When the train arrived, the doors opened with their familiar chime, and the crowd rushed forward almost as one. I stepped inside with everyone else, finding a place near one of the doors.
There were no seats.
That was fine.
I wrapped one hand around the overhead strap while keeping my briefcase tucked neatly against my leg.
A child sitting beside his mother looked up at me curiously.
For a second, our eyes met.
He smiled.
I smiled back.
Then his mother gently tugged at his sleeve as the train pulled away.
No one else paid much attention.
Or maybe they did.
I'd stopped trying to guess.
The office building eventually came into view as I climbed the station stairs.
Three years.
It hadn't changed.
The polished glass entrance reflected the morning sky exactly as I remembered.
My feet stopped.
People walked around me without a second thought.
I stood there, staring at the company logo above the entrance.
Three years ago, walking through those doors had been normal.
Today it felt like standing at the edge of a cliff.
"You can do this," I told myself.
I wasn't sure whether I believed it.
After another deep, slow breath, I stepped inside.
The lobby was just as bright as ever.
Employees crossed the marble floor carrying coffee, greeting one another with polite bows before disappearing toward the elevators.
For a few moments...No one noticed me.
Then someone did.
"Wait...Excuse me."
I glanced sideways.
A man leaving one of the elevators slowed his pace.
He frowned slightly.
"...Akiyama-kun?"
Another employee turned.
"Wait... really?"
"I think it is."
There wasn't any harshness in their voices.
Only surprise.
"I heard he was finally coming back."
"So the training really ended..."
"He changed a lot."
"...He looks unrecognizable."
"Is he the one involved in that incident?"
"I don't know..."
The conversation faded behind me as I kept walking.
Don’t think, keep moving. Don't stop.
The reception desk stood ahead.
A young receptionist looked up from her computer and smiled professionally.
"Good morning," she said brightly. "Do you have an appointment, miss?"
Miss. It wasn't negative; it was just a reflex based on what was standing in front of her. A person with waist-length hair, soft features, and the undeniable shape of a woman's chest straining against a men's dress shirt.
I took a slow breath, grounding myself.
"Good morning. My name is Haruto Akiyama."
I replied, keeping my voice as steady and level as possible.
She blinked.
"I don't have an appointment. I am from the IT Administration department. I'm returning from the three-year external training program today. I need to see HR for my reinstatement."
Confusion struck her face for only a heartbeat before realization followed.
"Oh!"
"I'm so sorry, Mr Akiyama."
She bowed immediately.
"I sincerely apologise."
"It's alright," I said quietly, offering a small, tired smile to ease her panic. "It's a completely understandable mistake."
Her shoulders relaxed a little.
"Please give me just a moment."
She checked something on her monitor before picking up the phone.
"Ms. Tachibana? Mr. Haruto Akiyama has arrived."
A pause.
"Yes."
"I'll bring him up."
She stood.
"If you'll follow me."
Several employees glanced up as the doors opened on the HR floor.
Most quickly returned to their work.
Some looked twice.
One whispered something to another.
I caught only fragments.
"...That's him..."
"...Back already?"
"...Looks different..."
I kept my eyes forward.
The receptionist stopped outside a meeting room and knocked lightly.
"Ms. Tachibana?"
"Come in."
She opened the door.
Inside stood a woman in her early forties wearing a grey business suit. Her short dark hair framed a calm, approachable face that I remembered immediately.
"Welcome back, Akiyama-kun."
She welcomed me with a genuine smile.
"It's been a long time."
I bowed.
"It has. Thank you for seeing me, Tachibana-san."
The receptionist excused herself, quietly closing the door behind them.
Tachibana gestured toward the chair opposite her desk.
"Please, have a seat."
Once we were both seated, she folded her hands together.
"First and foremost, on behalf of the company, we are just incredibly glad you are safe. When we received the reports of the... incident during your training deployment, we were deeply concerned."
The simple sincerity in her voice caught me off guard.
"I appreciate that," I replied, keeping my tone dry to mask my nerves.
"We've all been looking forward to your return."
She slid a folder across the desk.
"Today's mostly paperwork and orientation. We'll go through your updated employee records, your new security credentials, and the schedule for easing you back into your department."
I nodded.
"I appreciate that."
She paused before continuing, her tone becoming a little more personal.
"I also wanted to tell you something before we begin."
I looked up.
"We've already briefed your department members. They understand that you've returned from an external training program under... unusual circumstances."
She chose her words carefully.
"No details about your private life have been shared. Those belong to you, and only you."
I felt some of the tension leave his shoulders.
"My primary goal right now is to ensure that this work environment is safe, comfortable, and accommodating for you and your condition."
She leaned forward slightly. "There is a zero-tolerance policy for harassment. Period. Furthermore, if you need any adjustments, whether that pertains to uniform allowances, restroom facilities, or simply needing a quiet space during the day, you tell me, and it will be handled. You do not have to force yourself to endure it if it causes you distress."
She took a pause, looked at me in the eyes.
"You deserve to work here with the same dignity and respect as everyone else."
I looked down at my hands, folded neatly in my lap. After so much time, this type of kindness was almost overwhelming.
"I can't promise people won't be curious," she admitted. "You're returning after three years, and people will notice you've changed. Curiosity is human."
She leaned forward slightly.
"But curiosity is never an excuse for disrespect."
"...Thank you, Tachibana-san, it means a lot to me." I smiled.
She returned the smile.
"Welcome back, Akiyama-kun."
For the first time that day, the office felt a little less intimidating.
Tachibana-san closed the folder with a soft tap and smiled across the desk.
"That should be everything."
"Thank you," I said with a relieved gasp.
She stood first.
"I'll walk you back to your department."
As we reached the elevator, Tachibana-san smiled and said.
"Oh, one more thing."
Haruto looked at her.
"Sato-san has been asking me every few days whether we'd received confirmation of your return."
"...Rina?"
She nodded.
"She was very happy when I told her you'd be coming back today."
I smiled a little, remembering her past self.
"She's still here?"
"She was promoted last year."
Tachibana-san chuckled softly.
"And if you ask me..."
She glanced sideways.
"...she's probably more nervous about seeing you than you are about seeing everyone else."
I blinked.
"I doubt that."
"I wouldn't."
Before I could ask what she meant, the elevator doors opened.
Several people stared as I entered the floor.
A woman near the printer glanced up.
"...Is that Akiyama-kun?"
"I think so," said the person beside her.
"He looks... different."
"I heard the incident changed him."
"What happened to his body and hair?"
"I don't know."
“He looks like a woman!”
Another voice answered quietly.
"...Let's not stare."
Someone else looked away immediately after realizing I'd noticed.
I kept walking.
I'd expected this.
But knowing it would happen didn't make it any easier.
When I finally reached our section, it was quiet. Nakamura-san and Fujimoto-san were out on a scheduled client visit, and Rina’s desk was empty, her chair tucked in neatly. According to the department calendar, she was scheduled for a morning briefing.
I settled into my chair and let out a long, shuddering breath. I placed my briefcase down, woke up my computer, and immediately pulled up the shared drive.
The familiar glow of the monitor washed over me. I opened a folder containing details of current business project updates and financial paperwork.
I leaned back, the tight band of my bra pressing into my ribs, but the anxiety from the commute was finally receding. I started working…
Rina
Earlier that morning
Rina Sato prided herself on her composure. In the IT Administration department, she was known as the cool, kind, and relentlessly reliable assistant. She could handle demanding executives, navigate complex schedules, and defuse office tensions without breaking a sweat.
But when it came to Haruto Akiyama, that composure always threatened to fracture.
Rina Sato had known exactly what day it was.
She had known for almost two weeks.
Ever since Human Resources had quietly informed the department that Haruto Akiyama would finally be returning from his assignment.
She had been waiting for this day.
And dreading it.
She still remembered their last phone call.
A year and a half ago.
His voice had sounded tired.
He had laughed when he spoke, but she had known him long enough to know that he was hiding something.
"I'm alright." He would say.
If she'd known it then.
There had been so much she wanted to ask.
So much she wanted to say.
The line had gone quiet.
That had been the last time she'd heard his voice.
Now he was finally coming back.
She should have been happy.
Instead...
She was terrified.
What do I even say? Welcome back? Are you alright?
None of them felt right.
She was hurrying toward a meeting room on the ground floor that morning when movement near the lobby caught her attention.
Someone had just stepped through the entrance.
Long black hair. A white shirt. A navy tie.
Her first thought was that a beautiful woman must be a newly joined employee.
Then...she looked closer: a men’s shirt and trousers…The face.
Her footsteps stopped.
"...Haruto...?"
She stepped behind a nearby pillar.
She peeked around the corner again.
He stood quietly speaking with reception.
The long ponytail rested against the back of his shirt.
She had been in absolute shock. She was ten minutes late to her meeting, her mind entirely blank, replaying the image of his face over and over. He looked like a girl. He looked incredibly, beautifully feminine.
If it hadn't been for the men's office clothes...
She honestly wasn't sure she would have recognised him.
‘What happened to you...’ she thought to herself.
The receptionist led him away.
Only then did Rina realise she was still standing there.
"...Oh no."
The meeting.
She hurried toward the conference room, arriving several minutes late.
She apologised.
Then spent the next forty minutes hearing almost nothing that was said.
Her thoughts never left the lobby.
She knew about the incident, or at least, the rumours of the "Incident" during his three-year training. She knew he was affected. She just hadn't known exactly how.
By the time the meeting ended, she still hadn't decided what to say.
Back on their department floor, she saw him sitting at his cubicle, typing away at his keyboard with an intensely focused expression.
Deep breath, Rina. Just act normal.
She smoothed down her skirt, forced her shoulders to relax, and slowly walked over to his desk.
As she got closer, she quickly realised how much he had changed. The smooth and delicate face. The way his long hair cascaded down his back. And, most impossible to ignore, his chest pressing against the crisp white fabric of his men's shirt. He had breasts. They were perhaps even slightly bigger than her own. And beneath the cotton, she could faintly make out the structured seams of a bra holding them in place.
She was shocked and confused.
Rina stopped at the edge of his desk and offered a soft, gentle smile.
"Akiyama-senpai?" she called out quietly.
Haruto looked up so suddenly he nearly startled himself.
His eyes widened.
Then softened with recognition.
"...Rina?"
A smile spread across her face before she could stop it.
"Good morning," she said, letting her smile widen just enough to show how genuinely happy she was. She kept her eyes locked firmly on his, refusing to let her gaze drift downward. "Welcome back. It’s... it’s really good to see you."
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then Haruto laughed quietly.
"Good Morning to you too."
She nodded.
"You've..."
He paused, searching for the right words.
"...You look exactly the same."
She laughed.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It was meant to be."
Silence settled between them again.
Neither of them quite knew how to say.
Finally Rina smiled.
"I wasn't sure if you'd recognise me."
He looked at her as though the idea itself were impossible.
"Of course I would."
That made her happy and glad.
"I'm really glad you're back," she said softly.
Haruto held her gaze for a moment before answering.
"...I'm glad to be back."
The smile he gave her was small. It looked a little tired & uncertain.
But was genuine.
For the first time in three years, she was looking at the same kind, gentle senior she'd quietly fallen for years ago.
Haruto
The morning disappeared far more quickly than I expected.
Perhaps it was because I finally had something familiar to focus on.
Or perhaps it was because Rina never once made me feel like I had to explain myself.
She pulled another chair over beside my desk, balancing a stack of folders against one hip.
"I was in a department meeting this morning," she said, setting the folders down. "There were a few changes while you were away."
"I figured there would be."
"There are."
She smiled apologetically.
"I don't think we could cover everything before lunch."
I laughed quietly.
"I'd be worried if we could."
"I'll bring you up to speed afterwards."
She began opening folders one by one, pointing out new procedures, software updates, and changes to the filing system. Occasionally she would lean closer to my monitor to show me where something had moved, speaking in the same calm, patient voice I remembered from years ago.
It felt...
Normal.
Wonderfully, unbelievably normal.
Not once did she ask about my appearance or hesitate over pronouns or names.
She simply talked to me the same way she always had.
As Haruto.
As her senior.
Eventually she closed the final folder.
"I think that's enough information for one morning."
"I think my brain agrees."
She laughed.
"I'll explain the rest after lunch."
As she gathered the papers, she hesitated for just a second.
"It’s really... assuring to have you back, Senpai. It's nice."
She lowered her eyes for a moment before continuing.
"The office... feels more complete somehow."
For some time, neither of us spoke. I almost got a bit emotional, but composed myself.
I smiled.
"...Thank you."
She looked back up.
"I mean it."
There was something gentle in her expression.
I appreciated that.
Because I knew she must have questions.
Hundreds of them. About the incident. About my appearance. About the past years.
Yet, she was purposefully holding them back, respecting my privacy.
But I was grateful she was giving me the choice.
The hours slipped away beneath spreadsheets, emails and reports.
Every few minutes someone would walk past my desk.
Some nodded politely.
Some glanced a little longer than necessary.
Most simply carried on with their work.
A woman from accounting, Naoko Ishida, stopped briefly to introduce herself again.
"It's been a long time, Akiyama-kun."
"It has."
"It's good to see you back."
She smiled kindly before returning to her department.
A little later, the Support team manager, Masato Shibasaki appeared beside my desk.
Dependable, and exactly as composed as I remembered.
He looked over my monitor before nodding once.
"Looks like you haven't forgotten how to use Excel."
I laughed.
"I'd hope not."
"We'll keep your workload light for the first couple of weeks."
"I appreciate that."
He gave a small nod.
"If you need anything..."
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't have to.
"...Thank you."
He walked away without another word.
It was just the two of us in our section for now; our team leader, a strict but fair thirty-seven-year-old man named Nakamura-san, and our senior colleague, a thirty-five-year-old woman named Fujimoto-san, were both tied up in a client visit for the day. Being immersed in the familiar work alongside Rina felt like breathing fresh air.
One o'clock. Lunchtime.
I hadn't realised how hungry I was.
The office gradually emptied as people headed toward the company cafeteria.
I looked toward the hallway.
My hand rested on my wallet.
Then stopped.
The whispers from this morning resurfaced.
Maybe tomorrow.
Before I could figure out an excuse to skip the meal entirely, Rina walked over
"Planning to skip lunch?"
I looked up.
Rina stood there holding two cafeteria trays.
"I had a feeling."
She smiled.
"So..."
She placed one tray in front of me.
"I bought yours too."
I blinked.
"You didn't have to."
"I know."
She smiled again.
"But I wanted to."
"Thank you, Rina... really. I was dreading the crowds." I offered a small, tired smile. "I suppose we will take one step at a time."
"Exactly," she nodded, "One step at a time."
For a moment I simply stared at the meal.
Curry rice.
Salad.
Tea.
Exactly what I used to order.
"You remembered."
"I remember a lot of things."
She seemed to realise what she'd admitted and quickly looked away.
"I-I mean..."
I chuckled.
"...Thank you."
Her shoulders visibly relaxed.
"So..."
She gestured toward the empty desk beside mine.
"Would you mind eating here today?"
I looked toward the cafeteria entrance again.
Then back at her.
Maybe...
One step at a time.
"I'd like that."
We pushed our desks together just enough to make space for lunch.
Before sitting down, I reached into my briefcase.
"What are you looking for?" Rina asked.
"My hair."
She tilted her head.
I pulled out a tortoiseshell claw clip.
"I forgot I'd thrown this in my bag."
Gathering my ponytail, I twisted the long length into a loose coil against the back of my head before securing it with the clip.
A few shorter strands framed my face naturally.
I adjusted one behind my ear.
"...Much better."
Only then did I notice Rina hadn't said anything.
I cleared my throat, suddenly hyper-aware of the very feminine clip holding up my hair. "Let's eat."
"Your hair..." Rina blurted out softly, "It’s really beautiful, Senpai."
I froze.
"...Eh?"
A sudden, intense heat rushed to my cheeks. I looked down quickly, a deep blush spreading across my face.
"I-I'm sorry!"
She shook her head immediately.
"I didn't mean- I mean, if that's something you'd rather not hear,"
"No..."
I hurried to reassure her, forcing myself to meet her panicked gaze.
"It's alright."
"It is?"
I nodded slowly.
"...Actually..."
A small, embarrassed smile found its way onto my lips.
"I'm... happy you like it. Thank you."
She looked relieved.
"I really mean it. I couldn't help but look at it. It’s so incredibly thick, and shiny, and completely straight. Even at that length, it looks so silky...
Senpai, do you know how much time and money girls spend trying to achieve hair like that? It's gorgeous."
She caught herself again, her own cheeks flushing pink. "Ah, sorry! I'm rambling."
My face felt like it was on fire. I ducked my head, intensely focused on snapping my wooden chopsticks apart to hide the shy, embarrassed smile I couldn't keep off my lips. The way she said it, the way she looked at me, made my chest feel incredibly warm.
"Oh..."
She covered her mouth.
"I did it again."
"I'm sorry."
I couldn't help laughing.
"It's okay."
I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly very aware.
"...You're making me blush."
Her own face turned just as red.
"Sorry..."
"It's a nice kind of embarrassing."
For a moment, we simply looked at each other.
"Let's just eat before it gets cold."
With a soft, shared laugh, we finally turned our attention to our lunches, the heavy tension of the morning entirely melted away.
Rina
Just act normal, I reminded myself for the hundredth time that day as I set the plastic-wrapped trays from the canteen onto his desk.
He was looking toward the hallway that led to the cafeteria, one hand resting on his wallet as though he wanted to go... and yet couldn't quite make himself stand.
He's hesitating.
After everything I'd heard about the incident during his assignment, after the last phone call we'd shared a year and a half ago—when he'd insisted he was "fine" despite sounding anything but—I couldn't blame him. If bringing him his usual Monday curry meant he didn't have to walk into a crowded room on his very first day back... then that was enough. The sheer relief I felt when he finally smiled and agreed to eat at our desks was almost embarrassing.
As we pushed our desks together, he reached into his briefcase and pulled out a black claw clip.
I couldn't look away. I watched as he reached back, his pale hands gathering the long hair, tying it back with the clip. A few strands escaped around his face. Without thinking, he tucked one behind his ear.
The gesture was so delicate that it made my breath catch. He didn't seem aware he'd done it. He simply adjusted the clip, gave his head the slightest shake to make sure it held, and smiled to himself. When he caught me staring, heat instantly rushed into my face.
He's changed so much.
When I'd first caught sight of him in the lobby that morning, I'd honestly thought he was a woman until I recognized his face. Now, sitting only a meter away, with my heart beating much faster than it should have been, the changes were impossible to ignore.
His white office shirt was intentionally loose. A clever choice. The heavier fabric and relaxed fit softened the outline of his body, but it couldn't hide everything. When he'd reached up to secure his hair, the movement had briefly drawn the fabric across his torso. It lasted only an instant, but it was long enough for me to understand.
...He's wearing a bra underneath.
My eyes dropped lower before I caught myself. His waist looked slimmer than I remembered. The trousers were unmistakably men's office wear, yet they followed a silhouette that had become softer, more tapered. His shoulders were narrower. His hips broader. His whole frame had settled into proportions I would never have associated with the Haruto I remembered from three years ago.
I quickly looked back at my own lunch.
Stop staring. He's still Haruto.
That was what mattered. Still... it was impossible not to wonder.
How difficult has this been for you? Is he still a man at all? How much did you have to relearn?
The questions came one after another. I swallowed every single one. If he wanted me to know... he'd tell me. Until then, it was better to be quiet.
Silence settled between us.
Then, before I could stop myself, the words slipped out. "Your hair... It’s really beautiful, Senpai."
He froze. "...Eh?"
Immediately, I wanted to crawl under the desk. "I-I'm sorry!" I waved both hands. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
His cheeks turned pink. Actually, pink wasn't the right word. He was blushing. Really blushing. Not embarrassed in the awkward, stiff office sense, but something softer. Almost... cute.
"No..." He smiled shyly. "...Actually... I'm happy you like it. Thank you."
He's... happy?
For reasons I couldn't explain, my heart skipped. I couldn't help smiling back. "I really mean it. I couldn't help but look at it. It’s so incredibly thick, and shiny, and completely straight. Senpai, do you know how much time and money girls spend trying to achieve hair like that? It's gorgeous."
I looked at the glossy black length gathered neatly in the claw clip, and only then did I realize I'd said far too much. "...I'm sorry."
He laughed. The sound instantly eased the tension in my chest.
"It's alright." He rubbed the back of his neck, another unconscious habit. "...You're making me blush." He actually looked away while saying it, and the sight made something inside me melt.
He's adorable.
The realization arrived before I could stop it, and with it came another. On the train that morning, I'd been afraid. Afraid that seeing him changed so completely would somehow change the feelings I'd quietly carried for years. Afraid that the Haruto I liked had disappeared.
Sitting across from him now... watching him smile, watching him blush, watching him quietly adjust a loose strand of hair behind his ear without even realizing it... I understood how wrong I'd been.
Yes, he'd changed. His appearance had changed beyond anything I could have imagined. His mannerisms had changed, and his movements carried traces of the three years he'd spent living under circumstances no one should have endured.
But beneath all of that... he was still the same gentle, thoughtful person who thanked me for remembering his favourite lunch. The same senior who worried more about making me comfortable than himself.
I didn't know exactly what words he would use to describe himself now. I didn't know how he saw his own body. Those answers belonged to him alone.
What I did know was surprisingly simple.
Looking at him now... I was quietly, helplessly falling for the person who had come back.
Haruto
The afternoon settled over the office almost unnoticed.
By the time Rina and I returned from lunch, the chatter around the office had faded into the familiar rhythm of keyboards, ringing telephones and the occasional quiet conversation drifting over the partitions. Morning curiosity had mostly burned itself out. People had work to do.
For that, I was grateful.
I lowered myself back into my chair, letting out a slow breath as my computer woke from sleep. Rows of spreadsheets filled the monitor, waiting patiently where I had left them.
"...Shall we continue?" Rina asked, rolling her chair beside mine.
I nodded.
"Please."
She smiled, opening another folder.
"Alright. So while you were away on the training assignment, this entire reporting system was changed."
I couldn't help smiling.
"It already looks completely different."
"I know."
For the next two hours she patiently walked me through every change the department had undergone. New software, updated reporting formats, reorganised clients, revised procedures.
She never rushed me.
Never once made me feel like I should already know something.
Whenever I hesitated, she simply explained it again.
"...This client prefers weekly summaries instead of monthly now."
"I see."
"And these files are shared with the support department automatically."
"...That certainly would've confused me."
"I figured."
Her voice carried the same quiet warmth it had all day.
Not overly cheerful.
Gradually my hands began moving across the keyboard without conscious thought.
I hadn't forgotten what to do.
A strange sense of relief settled inside me.
For the first time in years...
I felt competent again.
...
Then my body reminded me it existed.
I leaned forward to reach a file resting on the far edge of my desk.
The fabric across my chest/breasts tightened.
Without thinking, my forearm drifted across the front of my shirt before I straightened again.
The movement happened so naturally I barely noticed it.
Until I realised what I'd done.
...
No one had been looking.
No one had noticed.
Yet my body had reacted before my mind could.
I quietly lowered my arm and continued typing.
A few minutes later, I shifted in my chair.
The underwire of my bra was digging sharply into my ribs from my hunched posture.
Almost absentmindedly, I adjusted the band beneath the loose fabric of my shirt as discreetly as possible before sitting back down.
It had become second nature.
Beside me, Rina continued explaining a client history without even glancing my way.
Whether she genuinely hadn't noticed...
Or had simply chosen not to...
I appreciated it more than she probably knew.
Around three o'clock, my eyes started to blur from the spreadsheets. I needed a moment away from the screen. I excused myself and made my way down the hall to the private washroom.
I washed my hands, letting the cool water run over my fingers.
The silence was comforting.
I looked up at my reflection.
Then something caught my eye.
"...Ah."
The claw clip.
It had loosened.
Probably from leaning back in my chair all afternoon.
I reached behind my head to tighten it.
The clip slipped free.
"...Oh."
Before I could catch it...
My hair dropped down, sliding over my shoulders before cascading all the way to my waist.
The thick black strands brushed softly against my back, my arms and the sides of my shirt before finally settling.
Just then, the washroom door swung open.
A female coworker from the marketing department stepped inside. She froze mid-step.
"Oh!" she gasped, her eyes widening.
A woman stepped inside and immediately stopped.
I froze.
She froze.
For one painfully awkward second, neither of us spoke.
Instinct took over.
I hurriedly gathered the rest of my hair against my back, cheeks burning.
"S-Sorry..."
She blinked.
Then...
She laughed softly.
Not mockingly.
Simply surprised to see someone like me.
"I didn't expect it to be that long."
My ears grew warm.
"...Neither did I."
I meant it.
She smiled.
"It's beautiful."
Before I could think of a response, she offered a small bow.
"Have a nice evening."
"...You too."
The door closed.
Beautiful.
I looked at myself in the mirror again.
There had once been a time when hearing that word made my stomach twist.
It felt like another reminder that someone else's choices had been carved into my body.
Instead of tying my hair with the claw clip again, I grabbed the simple black scrunchie, which was in my pocket. Gathering my hair, without thinking, I fixed the ponytail slightly above the nape of my neck.
When I returned to my desk, the swish of the ponytail against my back felt lighter. Rina glanced up from her monitor as I sat down. Her dark eyes darted to my new hairstyle, and a soft, incredibly cute smile spread across her lips. She didn't say a word, just offered a subtle, affectionate nod before returning to her screen, her own cheeks slightly pink.
The afternoon passed surprisingly quickly after that.
Work gradually became familiar again.
The reports stopped feeling foreign.
The systems began making sense.
By the end of the day, I had almost forgotten how nervous I'd been that morning.
Almost.
Around five o'clock, Masato Nakajima, the Support Team Manager, stopped beside our desks.
"Settling back in?"
"I think so."
Masato smiled.
"I had a feeling you would."
"I've still got a lot to catch up on."
"We all do."
He rested a hand lightly on the partition.
"Don't worry about speed this week."
"Just get comfortable again."
I nodded.
"...Thank you."
He gave an encouraging smile before heading toward another department.
Across the aisle, Keiko Mori looked over her monitor.
"Looks like you've survived Day One."
"Barely."
She laughed.
"That's still passing."
A few nearby coworkers chuckled.
For the first time all day...
The laughter wasn't aimed at me.
I was simply part of it.
It was such a small thing.
Yet my chest felt strangely light.
Before I knew it, the digital clock on my monitor read 5:30 PM.
The office began to empty out. I meticulously organised my desk, sliding the project folders into my drawer. When I stood up, briefcase in hand, I noticed Rina was lingering by her desk, her sleek tote bag slung over her shoulder. She was clearly waiting for me.
"Heading home, Senpai?" she asked, falling into step beside me as we walked toward the elevators.
"Actually, no," I replied, checking my phone. "I'm meeting a couple of friends at a restaurant.
"Kota and Aoi?"
I looked at her, surprised.
"You remember?"
"You've mentioned them before."
A smile escaped me.
"...Yeah."
"We're meeting at Torikizoku."
Her eyes brightened.
"That's on my route."
"It is?"
"Mhm."
She hesitated for barely a second.
"...Would you mind if we walked together?"
"I'd like that."
The evening air carried the lingering warmth of summer.
Office workers flowed through the streets in quiet streams, everyone eager to catch their trains home.
"Rina," I started. I looked over at her, watching the streetlights reflect in her dark eyes. "I want to thank you. For today."
She looked back, her expression softening. "You don't have to thank me."
"I do," I insisted. "I was terrified walking through those doors this morning. I didn't know how anyone would react to... to this." I gestured vaguely to my changed body, the long hair swaying against my back. "To my change. But you treating me normally, eating with me, just being there... it saved me today. You respected my privacy when I know you must have a hundred questions. It means more to me than you know."
Rina stopped walking for a brief moment. She looked at me with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat.
"You're still the same hardworking, kind person I've always respected, Senpai," she said softly, her voice filled with absolute certainty. "A different look doesn't change who you are to the people who actually care."
My heart did a strange, completely unfamiliar flip. I had to look away, hiding the fresh, overwhelming warmth rising in my cheeks.
"Thank you," I whispered.
We turned the corner, and the familiar bright yellow sign of the restaurant came into view. Standing under the awning, checking their phones, were Kota and Aoi.
Rina stepped back slightly, giving me space. She offered a bright, encouraging smile. "Have a wonderful dinner, Haruto-senpai. I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow, Rina."
I watched her turn and blend into the evening crowd, her dark hair swishing behind her. I took a deep, steadying breath, gripping the handle of my briefcase with both hands, and walked toward my friends.
Both of them were waiting for me near the entrance of the restaurant.
I gripped the handle of my briefcase, took a deep breath, and walked toward them, standing under the glowing yellow sign of Torikizoku.
"Hey," I called out, my voice a little tentative over the street noise.
The moment Aoi saw me, she crossed the street without waiting for the light.
"HARUTO!"
Several people on the sidewalk turned to look.
"Aoi..." I muttered, stepping into the yellow glow of the Torikizoku sign. "Half of Tokyo knows my name now."
"Good." She grinned shamelessly, hands on her hips. "Saves me the trouble of introducing you."
Before I could reply, she marched straight over and stopped in front of me.
She looked exactly the same as I remembered. Shoulder-length brown hair, and the same bright eyes that had always made it impossible for her to hide what she was thinking.
Except now...
Those eyes weren't looking only at my face.
"...Wow," she finally exhaled.
"...That's all you've got?"
"No." She pointed directly at my ponytail. "That's ridiculous."
"...My hair?"
"Your hair! It's unfair. I'm a woman, I've spent years trying to get my hair to look good, and you disappear for three years and come back looking like you belong in a shampoo commercial."
I couldn't stop myself. I laughed. Properly.
Beside her, Kota, as tall and effortlessly dishevelled as ever, sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I knew that was going to be the first thing she mentioned."
"What else was I supposed to say?" Aoi shot back. "I don't know, 'Welcome back'?"
"Oh." She blinked. Then her teasing expression dissolved. "...Welcome back."
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. The joking disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. It was a good hug, warm and steady.
"I'm really glad you're here," she murmured into my shoulder.
"...Me too," I said, my body stiffening for only a fraction of a second out of old habit before I leaned into it.
When she stepped back, Kota finally walked over. He didn't hug me. He simply held out his hand with a calm expression.
I looked at it. "...Really?"
"What?"
"We're doing handshakes after two years?"
He shrugged slightly. "I was trying to be mature."
I smiled. "That doesn't suit you."
Ignoring the handshake completely, I stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. After a second's hesitation, he laughed quietly and hugged me back, his hand patting my shoulder. "...Yeah. I missed you too."
"Alright, enough lazing on the street, I'm starving," Aoi declared, grabbing my arm and dragging me inside the bustling, smoke-filled yakitori restaurant.
We slid into a corner booth near the window. As I settled in, the crisp white cotton of my dress shirt pulled taut, accentuating the new, undeniably feminine curve of my waist and the heavy, soft weight of my chest resting against the underwire of my bra. I shifted awkwardly, crossing my arms over my ribs to minimise my silhouette.
Across the table, Aoi rested her chin on her hand, watching my movements with absolute, unfiltered scrutiny.
"So," she started, completely ignoring the menus. "I know we saw the beginning of it at the hospital, but seeing you fully put together in office wear is a total trip. They really gave you the full package, huh?"
"Aoi!" Kota hissed, kicking her under the table. "Boundaries! We talked about this."
"What? He knows I'm not going to tiptoe around him," Aoi shot back, unfazed. She looked right at me, her gaze dropping briefly to my chest before meeting my eyes again. "I'm just stating facts. The flawless skin, the waist... Haruto, you officially have more cleavage than I do. It’s deeply unfair."
For a split second, I froze. But then a bubble of genuine laughter escaped my throat. I uncrossed my arms, feeling the defensive tension drain out of my shoulders. I had missed her utter lack of a filter; it grounded me in a way the pure politeness of the office never could.
"It takes some getting used to," I admitted, my cheeks flushing slightly.
The menus had barely reached the table before Aoi pointed at me with her chopsticks. "So. I'm asking."
I sighed. "I know you are."
"The obvious question."
"...Can I touch your hair?"
I stared at her. "...That wasn't the question I expected."
"It wasn't? I was expecting emotional trauma."
"We'll get there," she smiled innocently. "But first... can I?"
Kota rubbed his forehead. "Aoi. At least wait until he's finished his drink."
"It's okay," I laughed, reaching back to adjust the hair tie, gathering my long ponytail over one shoulder. "...Go ahead."
She reached across the table and touched the ends carefully. Her eyes widened. "Whoa. It's actually real."
"What were you expecting?"
"Extensions! I had to make sure."
Kota burst out laughing. "I told you she was going to say something stupid."
"I was curious!" She ran the silky strands between her fingers, looking genuinely offended. "It's unbelievably soft. This is criminal. My conditioner costs three thousand yen."
"Part of the medical regimen," I murmured, a little shyly. "My body... it just naturally maintains it now. Even I am confused."
Kota poured us each a glass of oolong tea, sliding one toward me. "Well, you're still Haruto to us. Just with a significantly better haircare routine."
Later, after the first round of yakitori skewers arrived, Aoi's bluntness shifted. She set her chopsticks down and looked at me again.
"...Can I ask something serious now?"
I nodded.
"...Do your breasts hurt?"
Silence.
Kota almost choked on his tea. "...Aoi!"
"What?! It's a medical and a…personal question!" She looked back at me. "...Well?"
I couldn't help laughing. "They used to."
"And now?"
"They're mostly just..." I searched for the right word. "...Heavy."
She nodded thoughtfully. "Makes sense."
"My shoulders are narrower," I added quietly, looking down at my shirt. "My hips changed, too. And my chest didn't go back. I wear a bra now. If I don't... my back hurts."
Neither of them stared, and neither of them made a joke. They simply listened.
Kota stared into his glass. "...I cannot believe this is our dinner conversation."
Aoi shrugged. "I told you I was asking. And honestly? If I start pretending to be polite around him... that's when you should worry."
"I know," I smiled softly. "I don't mind."
Aoi's gaze softened. "...You're still Haruto," she said, her voice so matter-of-fact it caught me off guard. "You look different. You sound a little different. You move differently. But you still argue exactly the same way."
"She has a point," Kota smiled.
We fell into an easy rhythm after that, talking about work, old high school teachers, Kota's promotion, and Aoi's impossible supervisor. For a while, beneath the warm amber lighting of the restaurant, it almost felt like college again.
But there was something new, too. A subtle shift in the earnestness between them.
When the server dropped off another plate of skewers, Kota naturally reached over, pulling the grilled onions off Aoi's chicken with his chopsticks before sliding the plate toward her. Aoi didn't even look up from her drink, just nudged her knee against his under the table in a silent, "thank you."
I watched the exchange, a slow, genuine smile spreading across my face.
"So," I said, leaning forward and mimicking Aoi's earlier scrutiny. "How long has that been going on?"
Kota froze mid-bite. Aoi actually choked on her oolong tea, coughing violently into her napkin.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she wheezed, her face flushing bright red.
"He just prepped your food without asking, and you're sharing a drink menu," I pointed out, gesturing between them. "You two are dating."
Kota cleared his throat, pushing his glasses up his nose as he looked away. "About... ten months now."
"We were going to tell you!" Aoi recovered quickly, pointing an accusing finger at me. "But then you went off the grid, and when we finally saw you again... well. Dropping our relationship status while you were in the clinic didn't exactly feel appropriate."
"I'm happy for you both," I said softly, and I truly meant it. Seeing them together, anchoring each other, made the world feel a little more secure. "You make a good team."
"Don't encourage him," Aoi muttered, though she was smiling as she leaned comfortably against Kota's shoulder.
But eventually, the laughter faded, and the table grew quiet.
"I'm sorry," I said, staring down into my tea. "For the last year and a half. We used to talk all the time, and then I just... cut you both off."
"You don't need to apologise," Kota said immediately.
"I lost my mind," I confessed, the words tasting bitter. "When the conditioning really took over, and I lost the will to be myself... I was so deeply ashamed. I didn't want you to hear the way my voice was changing, or see what I was becoming. I thought it would be better if I just disappeared."
Aoi reached across the table, her hand closing firmly over mine. Her bluntness was gone.
"We thought we lost you, you idiot," she said softly. "Do you remember when Kota and I first came to see you at the rehab centre?"
I nodded slowly. I remembered. It had been three months after my rescue; after my mom, they were the only non-medical visitors allowed. I had been a complete shell of a person, sitting in the centre's garden in an oversized hospital gown, trembling and unable to look them in the eye. Aoi had spent half the visit crying. Kota hadn't said a word about what happened; he had simply sat beside me for an hour, talking about baseball and a stray cat in the courtyard.
"I'm sorry I cried that day," Aoi muttered. "I wanted to be strong for you."
"You were," I said.
"We don't care if you come back looking like a supermodel, a girl, or an alien," she said, squeezing my fingers. "We just want you alive and in front of us."
Tears formed in the corners of my eyes, blurring the bustling restaurant around us. I quickly reached up, pressing the pads of my fingers beneath my eyes. "I know. Thank you. Both of you, for waiting."
"Alright, no crying into the yakitori," Aoi commanded gently, giving my hand one last squeeze before letting go. "Eat. You're too skinny now anyway."
For several minutes after that, nobody spoke. We just ate in comfortable, easy silence.
Finally, Kota set his glass down and looked at me.
"...You know."
"What?"
"You laughed today."
I stopped my chopsticks mid-air. "...Did I?"
"You used to," he said, smiling faintly. "Then you stopped." Another quiet pause. "...Today... it sounded like you again."
No one said anything after that. Not because there wasn't anything to say—but because that one sentence had already said enough.
By the time we walked out of the restaurant two hours later, the crushing anxiety that had plagued me all morning was gone. My chest felt remarkably light.
"Get home safe," Kota said, giving me a real hug on the street corner this time.
"And don't disappear again," Aoi warned, pointing a finger at me before offering a sharp wave. "Seriously, drop your hair routine in the group chat!"
I laughed, waving back as they headed toward the subway entrance.
As I turned the corner, my phone buzzed in my purse.
I reached inside and pulled it out. The screen illuminated the dark sidewalk: Mom.
I answered almost immediately. "Hi, Mom."
"Finished dinner?"
"Just now."
"How was it?"
I paused, looking back over my shoulder. In the distance, beneath the yellow yakitori sign, Kota and Aoi were just disappearing down the subway stairs.
"...It was good," I said.
No. Better than good.
"It felt..." I smiled to myself in the quiet street. "...Normal."
There was a gentle, relieved pause on the other end of the line. "I'm glad, Haru."
"I'll be home in about twenty minutes."
"I'll keep some tea warm."
"Thanks, Mom."
I lowered the phone and kept walking. For the second time that day, I found myself thinking something I hadn't believed I would ever feel again.
It was good to be home.
The apartment was already warm by the time I unlocked the front door. The comforting smell of roasted green tea and warm miso drifted through the entryway, cutting through the chill of the evening.
"I'm home."
"Welcome home," Mom answered almost immediately. She appeared from the kitchen in her apron, wiping her hands on a towel.
I slipped off my loafers and stepped up into the apartment, setting my briefcase down. She stopped a few feet away, studying my face for a second before a smile touched her lips.
"You laughed today."
I looked at her. "...How do you know?"
"A mother knows."
She stepped closer, gently straightening my tie even though I was about to take it off.
"You've been doing this since I was in high school," I pointed out.
"And I'll keep doing it." She patted my chest lightly. "Come sit. I made tea."
We sat together at the small dining table, wrapping our hands around warm ceramic mugs. I told her about the day, about the terrifying walk through the lobby, how seamlessly Rina had helped me navigate the office, and the dinner with Kota and Aoi.
"Kota's still impossible," I said. "And Aoi... she spent the first five minutes talking about my hair."
Mom smiled over the rim of her cup. "That means she was comfortable. They didn't treat you like a glass doll."
"No. They didn't." I stared down at my reflection in the dark surface of the tea. "I survived, Mom. Actually... it was a really good day."
She reached across the table, her hand covering mine. "I am so incredibly proud of you, Haruto. You have no idea."
I frowned slightly. "For what? It didn't feel very brave."
"It doesn't have to." She squeezed my hand gently. "Sometimes courage is simply showing up."
Sometime later, I went into my room.
The tie came off first. Then the shirt. The familiar pressure around my chest eased as I slowly undid the buttons. I stepped out of my slacks, folding each piece neatly and placing them on the chair beside my desk.
The room was quiet. Only the ticking clock accompanied me.
I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror. Months ago, looking at this exact image would have sent me into a panic. I would have covered the glass. I would have clawed at my skin. But tonight, I felt calm.
It was a jarring, contrasting picture that perfectly encapsulated my reality. On the bottom, I wore standard dark cotton men's boxer briefs. On top, my breasts were secured in a simple white lace bra, supporting the undeniable feminine curves I had been forcefully made to grow. My waist dipped inward, and my skin was unnaturally smooth.
But as I stood there, simply looking at myself, the undergarments were a part of me now. A part of getting changed. Nothing more.
I reached behind my head and pulled out the black hair tie.
My ponytail fell apart at once. A familiar weight settled across my shoulders as thick, straight black hair slipped down my back, cascading well past my waist. I gathered it loosely in front of me, running my fingers through the length to straighten a few strands flattened from wearing it tied up all day.
I traced a hand over my collarbone, down to the edge of the bra. It didn't feel like a foreign body anymore. It was just... me. My body had changed, my mannerisms had changed, and my life had permanently altered its course. But my friends still joked with me. My mother still saw her child. I was still Haruto Akiyama.
The face in the mirror belonged to me. That was enough.
Since I had already gone through my extensive hair-washing routine that morning, I simply twisted the heavy length of my hair up, securing it tightly with a large clip at the crown of my head. I took a warm shower, letting the heat soak away the physical and emotional exhaustion of the day.
By the time I returned to my room, I had changed into an oversized, worn-out charcoal T-shirt and comfortable lounge pants. I released my hair from the clip, letting the long, dark strands fall freely down my back. It felt strangely light after spending the entire day tied back.
I picked up the brush from the dresser. Not because my hair needed much, just out of habit. A few slow strokes through the silky ends before working upward. No tangles.
I set the brush down. "Good enough."
A gentle knock came from the door, and Mom peeked inside. "Just checking in," she said softly. She looked at my hair for a moment and smiled. "Wearing it down tonight?"
"It deserved a break."
She laughed softly. "I think so too. Get some rest, Haru."
After she closed the door, I walked over to the window. Through the glass, the endless, sprawling lights of Tokyo glittered against the night sky. The city was massive, indifferent, and completely unchanged by my absence. But as I stood there, feeling the quiet peace of my own room, I finally felt like I belonged in it again.
Tomorrow, I would tie my hair back again. I would put on the same shirt, the same tie, and walk into the same office. There would be more spreadsheets, more stares, and more complicated feelings to navigate.
But as I turned off the light and climbed into bed, the thought no longer filled me with dread.
For the first time in three years, tomorrow simply felt like another day.
END PART 1
Thank you for reading and sticking with Aftermath — Part 1.
Aftermath Part 2: Rebuild
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Alright, here we go again, this one’s a little long too, so bear with me. Everything you see here, including the images, is completely fictional.
Part 2: Rebuild
The stainless-steel doors of the elevator slid open slowly.
I stepped out into the familiar corridor, the polished floor reflecting the morning light spilling through the office windows. My footsteps were steady, my briefcase hanging comfortably from one hand.
I was wearing a classic, tailored dark navy men's suit, complete with a crisp white dress shirt and a neatly tied navy tie, my old office outfit. Yet the fit of the clothes was very different now: the jacket spread slightly at my hips, and the dress shirt was securely fastened over my breasts or chest.
Instead of my usual ponytail, I now had started wearing a single, neat braid that rested over my shoulder. I could feel its reassuring weight against my chest as I walked. It was more convenient than the ponytail as it kept the strands out of my face, and honestly, I was starting to enjoy styling it.
A month and a half had passed since that terrifying first day back.
Now...It simply marked the beginning of another workday.
I found myself smiling.
Yesterday had probably helped.
Kota and Aoi had dragged me out for a full Sunday in Shibuya. We watched an action movie, then completely lost ourselves in an arcade where Aoi aggressively dominated at the racing games, and ended the night with mountains of food at a bustling Korean barbecue spot. For the first time in a while, I felt like a normal person.
I swiped my ID card and walked into the team cubicle section. Everyone was already at their desks.
"Good morning, Senpai," Rina greeted instantly, as she peeked over her monitor.
"Good morning, Rina," I replied, my voice carrying a cheerful feeling.
"Morning, Akiyama-kun!" chimed Fujimoto-san from across the aisle. At thirty-six, she was the veteran of our administrative team. When I had first returned, the sheer shock of my hair and changed body had left her completely speechless. But that disbelief had lasted exactly one day before her fierce, maternal instincts kicked into overdrive. Since then, she had become my most vocal protector, making sure nobody from other departments gave me a hard time.
"Good morning, Fujimoto-san," I smiled, setting my briefcase down.
Finally, I looked toward the head desk. "Morning, Nakamura-san."
Our thirty-seven-year-old team leader glanced up from his tablet, adjusting his glasses. Nakamura-san was a pillar of quiet support. He had known the details of my incident before I ever stepped foot back in the building. And while seeing me in person had clearly shaken him that first week, he never let it show in his management. He simply supported our team, ensuring I had a stable, respectful environment to rebuild my career.
"Morning, Akiyama," Nakamura-san nodded, his tone steady and reassuring.
As I slipped out of my suit jacket to hang it on the back of my chair, Fujimoto-san leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands with a teasing grin.
"Well, well. Someone is in an awfully good mood for a Monday morning," she observed smoothly. "You're practically glowing, Akiyama-kun. Did you finally go on a date this weekend? Come on, you can tell us."
A sudden, intense heat rushed to my cheeks. "N-No! Nothing like that, Fujimoto-san," I stuttered, instinctively bringing my hands up to defensively wave off the idea. The motion caused my breasts to bounce slightly against the fabric of my shirt; I immediately tried to minimise it by crossing my arms. "I just... I spent the whole day yesterday with some old school friends. We went to an arcade."
"An arcade?" Rina echoed, a playful smile tugging at her lips.
"A likely story," Fujimoto-san chuckled, her eyes crinkling warmly. "I'm just teasing you. It's really good to see you smiling so brightly."
"Let the man settle in, Fujimoto," Nakamura-san said, though there was a distinct, amused warmth in his voice. "We have the reports to finalise by Wednesday."
"Yes, Boss," Fujimoto-san playfully saluted, and the team comfortably transitioned back into work mode.
I took my seat, booting up my computer. Without thinking, I smoothed my slacks underneath me and elegantly crossed my legs tightly at the ankles.
About two hours later, the workload of morning emails had been cleared. I leaned back in my chair, rolling my shoulders to ease the pinch of my bra straps. I let out a soft sigh, resting my hands in my lap.
Rina slid her chair slightly toward the partition between us, holding a steaming paper cup of green tea.
"Taking a breather?" she whispered, offering me a small, wrapped matcha candy from her pocket.
"Just a quick one," I smiled, accepting the candy. "Thanks."
"So," she leaned in, whispering. "You really went to an arcade yesterday? Who won?"
"Aoi, without question," I laughed softly, unwrapping the candy. "She is terrifying at Mario Kart. Kota kept trying to beat her, and she practically humiliated him in front of a crowd of middle schoolers."
Rina giggled, taking a sip of her tea. "And what about you?"
"I mostly stuck to the claw machines," I admitted. A fresh wave of bashfulness hit me as I remembered the embarrassingly large Pikachu plushie I had spent way too many yen trying to win. Without realising it, my hand drifted up to my shoulder. My fingers found the touching the end of my long braid, and I subconsciously began to twirl the hairs around my index finger.
"I... well, I might have spent an hour trying to win a stuffed Pikachu," I murmured, ducking my head shyly. "Kota had to literally drag me away from the machine to make our dinner reservation."
Rina watched my fingers playing with the end of my braid. "Did you at least win it?"
"I did. It's sitting on my sofa right now." I paused, a faint smile touching my lips. "And then we went shopping."
"Oh? That sounds dangerous."
"It was. We were in one of the clothing stores..." I rubbed the back of my neck. "...and one of the staff came over. She asked if my boyfriend and I needed any help."
Rina blinked. "...Boyfriend?" "Kota."
There was a second of silence. Then both of us laughed.
"What did you say?" she asked.
"I just told her there'd been a misunderstanding."
"What were you wearing?"
"A loose men's shirt. Light blue. Jeans. My usual loafers." I gently lifted the end of my braid. "And... this."
Rina looked at it for a second, nodding thoughtfully. "The braid. The shirt. Most people probably don't look much further than that."
"I suppose." I found myself still rolling the end of the braid between my fingers. "It didn't really bother me." I looked out toward the large window overlooking the city. "Actually... it felt surprisingly... ordinary."
Rina didn't answer immediately. Instead... she smiled warmly. "I'm glad."
"So am I."
The lunchtime bell echoed softly through the floor. Almost instinctively, chairs rolled back across the office.
Fujimoto stretched with an exaggerated groan. "That's enough Excel for one morning. I'm taking my full forty-five minutes, and not a minute less."
Nakamura didn't even look up from his monitor. "You'll be opening it again in exactly forty-five minutes."
"I know," she sighed dramatically, grabbing her tote bag. "Which is why I'm appreciating them now."
I smiled, shutting down the report I had just finished.
"Ready, Senpai?" Rina asked, stepping over to my desk.
"Yeah. Let's go."
The company cafeteria was exactly as loud and sprawling as I remembered. The smell of curry, grilled fish, and fresh rice filled the air. A month ago, walking into a room this crowded would have sent my mind into panic mode. It was much less frightening now,
There were still glances, of course. Someone always looked twice. I could feel the unavoidable eyes on me, and occasionally, a group of guys from sales would stare openly at my chest before quickly looking away. But I was slowly, painstakingly, getting used to it. Most people looked, then simply went back to eating.
By the time Rina and I paid for our trays, Fujimoto was already waving from a corner booth. "Over here!"
We slid into the booth across from her, and our conversation flowed easily. Fujimoto did most of the talking, complaining affectionately about her children's lunchbox demands, while Rina and I listened and laughed.
As we ate, I found myself slipping into habits that had recently become unavoidable. When my thick, heavy braid threatened to slip forward into my soup, I caught it gracefully with my fingers, sweeping it over my shoulder. Simultaneously, I used my other hand to subtly adjust the collar of my shirt; the underwire of my bra had shifted slightly against my ribs. A moment later, I caught a loose strand of hair near my cheek and tucked it behind my ear.
I didn't notice myself doing any of it. To me, it was just normal now. But when I looked up, Fujimoto was watching me. She didn't say anything, but simply nodded her head and smiled. To them, these little habits had simply become part of who I was.
When lunch wrapped up, Fujimoto stood first, waving us off to go catch up with the ladies from accounting. Rina and I carried our empty trays to the return rack near the entrance.
"Wait right here for a second," Rina said, checking her watch. "I just need to run to the restroom before we go back up."
"Sure, take your time," I nodded, leaning lightly against the wall, watching people come and go.
Five minutes passed. Then ten.
I started worrying a bit. The corridor outside the cafeteria was emptying out. Fearing she might have felt unwell, I stepped back into the adjacent hallway that connected to the restrooms and small, glass-walled conference rooms.
As I approached the adjoining corridor that connected to several meeting rooms, I heard familiar voices. I slowed my pace, stopping just before I turned the corner.
I recognised Rina's voice immediately. But she wasn't alone. She was talking to three women from the marketing department, younger hires who had joined the company while I was away.
I couldn't see them properly from where I stood. Only the edge of the conference room wall separated us.
“You haven't had lunch with us in weeks, Rina," one of the women laughed.
"We were starting to think we'd offended you."
"Or maybe you've just found better company," another voice chimed in. "...That Akiyama guy?"
"...Haruto," Rina corrected quietly. Her voice was uncharacteristically tight.
"Right. Haruto." The girl snorted. "Honestly... I still can't get used to looking at him. I mean, what even is he?"
I gasped. I pressed my back flat against the wall.
"Did you see him this morning?" the first girl continued, her voice dropping into a loud, gossipy whisper. "The way his suit jacket stretches... my God. I thought the buttons were going to give up. I've never seen someone wear a men's suit over breasts that big. It's so weird."
"He wears a bra too," the third girl added. "I noticed the outline through his shirt. I felt embarrassed just looking."
Someone clicked her tongue. "If you're going to wear a bra... then just wear women's clothes. What are you trying to prove?"
"And that hair! He just walks in with that stupid princess hair. I honestly thought he was some woman from another department the first time."
They laughed. As though they were discussing the weather.
"You know what I don't understand?" the main girl sighed. "If he wants to look like a woman, why cling to being a man? It's like he's trying to have both. Pick one already."
"I think he likes the attention."
"Seriously. No one accidentally grows their hair down to their ass. He could cut it tomorrow if he wanted. He doesn't. So maybe... he enjoys everyone staring."
The words sting. My chest tightened until I couldn't breathe. I felt loss for air. Without noticing, my hand had found the end of my braid, squeezing it so hard my knuckles turned white.
Therapy had taught me these moments would come.
That not everyone would understand.
That some people would always reduce another human being into something they could laugh about.
Knowing that...
Didn't make hearing it any easier.
"...Maybe..."
For one brief second...
"...maybe I really do look ridiculous."
The thought appeared before I could stop it.
"NO."
Rina's voice cut through the hallway. It was clear, firm, and sounded possessed. I had never heard her shouting like that before.
The laughter stopped immediately.
"No?" one of the girls echoed, sounding taken aback.
"No." I heard Rina take a step forward. "You don't get to talk about him like that."
"Oh, come on, Rina. We're just joking around."
"You called him a freak. You laughed at his body. You mocked his hair, and you questioned why he dresses the way he does. You think that's a joke?" Rina's voice didn't rise to a yell, but it sounded well with conviction. "Tell me. If tomorrow you lost your hair because of an illness, and people laughed every time you walked into the office... would that be funny?"
None of them answered.
"If your body was altered in a way you never chose, and strangers whispered every time you passed... would that be funny?"
Silence.
"You've only known him for a month," Rina continued, her voice trembling slightly. "I knew him before he left. I watched someone I cared about vanish little by little over phone calls until he stopped sounding like himself. You have absolutely no idea the kind of living hell he was put through, and instead of showing an ounce of empathy, you stand here gossiping like high school bullies."
"We... we didn't know," one of the girls stammered defensively.
"No. You didn't," Rina agreed sharply. "He is one of the strongest people I've ever met. He comes into work every single day knowing people like you are going to stare and whisper. He treats everyone with respect. And somehow, he still has more kindness in his heart than anyone making fun of him."
The hallway was dead silent.
Then, one of the girls muttered weakly, "...Still. I just think he's... strange."
Rina didn't miss a beat.
"I don't."
She paused. When she spoke again, all the anger was gone.
"I think he's beautiful."
Hidden behind the wall, my entire body went still. My heart skipped some beats.
"I like his kindness," Rina said quietly, but loud enough for them to hear. "I like how gentle he is. I like how hard he tries every single day. And yes... I even like his long hair."
"I like him. Exactly as he is. So keep your opinions to yourselves."
I squeezed my eyes shut, my hands flying up to cover my mouth to keep myself from gasping. I couldn't stop blushing.
For the first time in a very, very long time... I have felt something like this.
Rina.
The corridor fell silent.
None of the three women said another word. Yuka looked away first. Mio muttered something under her breath, and before I could say anything else, the three of them sped away, sprinting where they came from.
Their footsteps faded. Only then did the pressure finally leave my body.
I let out a long, shaky breath I'd been holding.
The adrenaline slowly began to drain away, leaving my knees feeling kind of weak. I leaned my shoulder against the cool glass of the conference room, covering my face with both hands."...What did I just do?" I whispered.
"...Idiot."My face felt like it was on fire.
I had actually said it. Out loud. In the middle of the company corridor to three coworkers who did nothing but gossip.
I like him. Exactly as he is.
AHHHH!
I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my cool hands to my burning cheeks, desperately trying to steady my racing heart.
Why had I said that? No... the real question was, why had I said it so easily?
A helpless, slightly hysterical laugh escaped me. "...Well. They deserved it.”
I stayed there for another minute, letting my heartbeat gradually settle. Calming myself, I couldn't walk back to the cafeteria looking like this. Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself away from the wall and began smoothing down my skirt.
"Rina?"I was stunned, spinning around.
Walking toward me from the opposite end of the corridor was Haruto-senpai. He was holding his phone loosely in one hand, as though nothing unusual had happened. His expression looked calm, with polite composure, exactly the way he always looked when talking to clients.
"Senpai!" I squeaked, my voice cracking slightly.
I quickly cleared my throat. "I…I'm sorry, I was just finishing up."
"I was looking for you," he said with a worried smile.
"You were taking a little longer than usual, so I thought maybe the queue was bad. I got a little worried."
"...Ah." My mind immediately began racing.
Did he... No. He couldn't have. Could he?"
I... ran into some people," I replied, trying to keep my voice perfectly steady. "They held me up for a minute."
"I see." He nodded naturally. "...Everything okay?"
"Yes." Far too quickly. "...Everything's well and fine."
"...Good. Ready to head up?"
"Yes! Yes, of course," I nodded quickly, falling into step beside him.
Thank god, I thought, a massive wave of relief washing over me. He didn't hear anything. He just got here.
We walked toward the elevators in silence. It was a comfortable, normal silence, but as we stepped into the steel cab and the doors slid shut, the bright overhead lighting caught his face. I stole a quick sideways glance at him.
My relief instantly faded.
His eyes were slightly red, the edges just a bit puffy, as if he had been aggressively rubbing them.
He looked exactly like someone who had blinked a few too many times and spent the last minute desperately trying to compose himself.
Oh no. He wasn't composed at all. He was faking it. He had heard everything. My face started getting warm all over again. I stared rigidly at the elevator floor numbers ticking upward, my mind screaming in panic. I didn't say a word, and neither did he, completely sealing us in the most awkward silence of my entire life.
Haruto
I couldn't let her see me like this. The moment I heard footsteps moving away, I finally let myself breathe. I stayed hidden behind the conference room wall for another few seconds, my heart beating far too fast."...Get yourself together," I whispered to myself.
My face was warm with an uncontrollable blush; embarrassing tears of overwhelming relief and shyness had welled in my eyes.
If she rounded the corner and saw me pressed against the wall, clutching my chest like a maiden, I would have absolutely died on the spot. I rubbed my eyes furiously with the back of my hand, smoothed out my white shirt and took some deep, slow breaths to calm myself.
Once I felt I was mostly back to normal, I walked a little farther down the corridor before turning back, just enough to make it look as though I had been searching for her.
Then I called her name. When I told her I had just come looking for her because I was worried, pure panic crossed her face for the briefest moment before she hid it with relief. The act was perfect. But it only lasted until we got into the elevator. In the confined space, the silence between us was so thick you could cut it with a knife. I nervously adjusted my heavy braid, pulling it over my shoulder and gripping the end with trembling fingers. I couldn't help it; I stole a glance at her. Rina was staring rigidly up at the floor indicator. But out of the corner of her eye, she looked at me. She saw my red eyes.
I watched the exact second the realisation hit her. Her polite smile completely shattered, her dark eyes widening in horror before she quickly looked away, her cheeks red.
She knows, I realised, my stomach feeling a bit sick. She knows that I heard her.
The elevator pinged, the doors opening to our department floor. We both rushed out, avoiding eye contact. When we returned to the team cubicle, Fujimoto-san looked up immediately.
She frowned. Then she looked at me. Then at Rina. Then back to me."...Okay," Fujimoto-san drawled slowly.
Neither of us answered.
She rolled her chair back, resting her hands on her hips, and narrowed her eyes.
"Alright, what happened? What is going on with you two?"
"N-Nothing, Fujimoto-san!" Rina blurted out instantly.
"Everything is completely normal," I added in a rush, my voice sounding higher than usual.
We stopped. Looked at each other. Then immediately looked away again.
Fujimoto-san slowly folded her arms. Looking at us with an amused smile. "...That was suspicious."
"It wasn't," I replied.
"Not suspicious at all," Rina added.
"Mm-hm." Fujimoto-san nodded with seriousness.
"So nothing happened. And that's why neither of you can make eye contact, and you both look extremely flushed. Understood."
"We're just focused on the Audit!" Rina defended.
Nakamura-san didn't even look up from his monitor. "Fujimoto."
"Hm?"
"Leave them alone.
"I'm just curious."
"So am I." Nakamura turned another page in his report.
"But they'll tell us when they're ready."
I blinked. "But...There's nothing to tell."
"Of course," Nakamura replied normally with a smile.
Fujimoto-san leaned toward Rina with a mischievous grin. "I'll ask again tomorrow."
"You'll get the same answer."
"We'll see."I couldn't help smiling.
The conversation drifted naturally back toward work, thankfully, because I wasn't sure how much longer either of us could survive being tense.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a heavy workload. Reports. Meetings. Phone calls. Every time I reached across the partition to hand her a document, our fingers would brush, and we would both violently retract our hands, apologising in rapid, hushed whispers.
Every now and then, I'd look up. Rina would already be looking. The moment our eyes met, she'd immediately return to her monitor. A few minutes later, I'd do exactly the same thing. My heart was a constant mess.
I found myself repeatedly crossing my legs tighter, adjusting my posture, and subconsciously tugging at the sides of my jacket just to give my nervous hands something to do.
By the time the clock struck five-thirty, we packed our bags in record time, exchanged a painfully awkward goodbye at the elevators, and I practically fled to the train station.
When I reached my apartment that evening, the exhaustion finally got me.
"I'm home."
"Welcome back," Mom answered from the kitchen.
"Dinner's almost ready."
"I'll get changed first.
"Back in my room, I loosened my tie, carefully folded my suit onto the chair, and unhooked the tight band of my bra, letting out a quiet sigh of relief. Finally, I reached back and untied my braid. Thick, heavy black hair slipped over my shoulders and down my back in one motion.
For a while, I simply stood in front of the vanity mirror in my T-shirt and lounge pants. I wasn't really looking at myself. Just... thinking.
I think he's beautiful.
I closed my eyes. "...Beautiful..."
The word still felt strange. No one had ever looked at me that way before. I remembered the certainty in Rina's voice. The anger. The way she had defended me. For the last t year, my altered body had been a source of sheer terror and shame. I had accepted it because I had to, but the idea that anyone could look at this confusing, delicate version of Haruto Akiyama and feel genuine affection had seemed impossible.
She hadn't pitied me. She hadn't apologised for me. She had simply stood beside me. A smile spread across my face.
"...She's incredible," I whispered to the empty room.
I reached up, absentmindedly gathering my hair over one shoulder, running my fingers slowly through the length.
For the first time in years, when I looked into the mirror, the first thing I remembered wasn't the nightmare. It was someone's voice. I like him. Exactly as he is. And somehow, that single sentence stayed with me, keeping my heart warm long after the apartment had gone quiet.
Days passed, then weeks
Before either of us realised it, the suffocating awkwardness that followed the hallway incident had settled into something much gentler. Not gone, exactly, but softened around the edges. The embarrassed silences gradually became comfortable ones. The stolen glances became smiles.
Life settled into a pleasant, almost domestic rhythm. Every morning, I arrived just before nine. And almost every morning, Rina was already there, standing by the coffee machine, waiting. Two coffees. Neither of us had to ask anymore.
Client meetings slowly returned to my schedule. The first few were nerve-racking; I was quite aware of every curious glance. But once the meeting actually began, something familiar took over. I stopped thinking about myself and focused on the client, the numbers, the solutions. By the time we left the room, I almost forgot how anxious I had been walking in.
Outside, Nakamura-san gave me a single nod. "Good work."
That was all. But coming from him, it felt like receiving an award.
Rina
Watching Haruto-senpai work still amazed me.
The quiet, hesitant man who blushed whenever someone complimented his hair completely disappeared once a client sat across from him. His posture straightened. His voice became calm and confident. He answered difficult questions without hesitation and smiled at exactly the right moments.
Every time I watched him, I remembered why everyone had spoken so highly of him before he left. The assignment had completely changed his body, but it hadn't touched his brilliance. If anything, seeing both sides of him only made me admire him more.
By the middle of the second week, the feelings between us felt as heavy. We were so close, yet neither of us had dared to cross the line.
Late Thursday afternoon, the office had quieted down. Nakamura-san had asked us to retrieve a series of archived physical contracts from the supply room down the hall.
The archive room was small, dimly lit, and lined with towering metal shelving units. We were working in comfortable proximity, the scent of old paper mixing in the air.
Senpai crouched down to check a heavy cardboard box on the bottom shelf. As he stood back up, he didn't realize how close he was to the exposed metal framework.
Snag.
He winced, his head jerking back slightly. The end of his thick braid had caught squarely on a jagged metal bracket. He reached back quickly, trying to free it, but his clumsy, panicked pull only made it worse. The small black elastic snapped with a sharp pop, and the braid immediately began to unravel.
"Ow, wait..." he murmured, setting his files down and blindly trying to untangle the mess behind his back.
"Hold still, Senpai," I said softly, stepping directly into his space. "You're going to pull it out."
He froze instantly, his hands dropping to his sides.
I reached out, but hesitated with my hands hovering just an inch over his hair. I knew exactly how he guarded his physical boundaries now. He only ever let himself or his mother manage his hair. Letting someone else touch it; it was a terrifying vulnerability.
"Is it okay?" I whispered, looking at him.
I saw the nervous flutter of his long eyelashes. But then, very slowly, he gave a tiny, trusting nod, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "Okay."
My heart squeezed. I gently unhooked the tangled strands from the metal bracket, my fingers sinking into his silky hair.
His braid had almost completely come undone now.
When I gently removed the hair tie, the remaining twists loosened all at once.
His midnight-black hair flowed down his back.
It reached almost to his butt.
For a brief second...
I forgot to breathe.
It was even more beautiful loose.
"...Sorry," I murmured before I realised I'd spoken aloud.
"For what?"
"I..."
"...Nothing."
I carefully gathered the hair strands in both hands.
They were unbelievably smooth.
Soft.
Cool against my fingers.
I had expected thick hair to feel heavy.
Instead...
It flowed through my hands like water.
Haruto stood completely still.
I could see the faint pink creeping across the tips of his ears.
"...You're very gentle," he said quietly.
"I don't want to pull."
"My mother says the same thing."
The words slipped out before he seemed to realize it.
He gave an embarrassed laugh.
"...I mean..."
"I've never really let anyone else do this."
That somehow made my heart beat even faster.
I divided the heavy silk into three even sections and began to weave them together. When I reached the end, I pulled a spare hair tie from my own wrist and secured the braid perfectly over his shoulder.
"There," I breathed out, my voice inexplicably thick. "Good as new."
Haruto
The lingering warmth of her fingers against my scalp left me completely breathless. I turned around to face her, the heavy braid settling securely against my breasts.
"Thank you, Rina," I whispered. I felt incredibly exposed, yet safer than I had in years.
She offered a cute, brilliant smile. "Anytime, Senpai. Now... I think the previous year files are on the top shelf."
She turned away, stepping up to the towering shelf. She stood on her tiptoes, reaching her arms up toward a heavy, grey binder just out of reach.
But as she shifted her weight to push the binder free, the heel of her shoe caught violently on the frayed edge of the carpeted floor mat.
She gasped, losing her balance completely and tumbling backwards.
"Rina!"
Reflexively. I lunged forward, catching her securely around the waist before she could hit the floor. But in my panic, I had completely misjudged my own balance. I had forgotten that my body was different now. The momentum of her fall was too much.
I hit the carpeted floor with a thud, the breath rushing out of my lungs.
A split second later, Rina landed directly on top of me.
We both froze. The world seemed to stop spinning.
Rina was completely draped over my torso. Her face was inches from mine, her wide, dark eyes locked onto my own. But the problem was exactly where she had landed. Her breasts were pressed perfectly against mine, burying directly into my heavy breasts, cushioned securely by the cream lace of my bra beneath my dress shirt.
The intimate, incredibly tactile sensation sent a shiver through my entire body. My hands, which had been holding her waist, instinctively slid up to lightly and delicately grip her shoulders, and my face was constantly blushing. I squeezed my eyes shut, completely overwhelmed by the physical closeness and the undeniable reality of my feminine body yielding beneath hers.
Rina
I pushed myself up slightly, supporting my weight on my forearms, though I didn't pull away. Haruto-senpai opened his eyes slowly, to find my face just as red as his.
For a long moment, I just stared at him. My gaze dropped briefly to where our breasts were pressed together, before fluttering back up to his eyes.
A tiny, slightly wicked smile broke through my panic. I couldn't resist. The tension was too much, and his flustered, shy expression was too much for me to ignore.
"Careful, Senpai," I whispered. "Catching me like that... people might think you're actually falling for me."
Haruto
My brain short-circuited completely after listening to her.
The heat of the moment, the scent of her perfume, her hands in my hair, and the truth that I had been holding back for weeks ignored every logic I had left.
"I am," I blurted out.
The teasing smile instantly vanished from Rina's lips, replaced by wide-eyed shock.
"I do," I continued, my voice in a panicked rush. I was completely unable to stop the confession from slipping out. "I really like you, Rina."
Absolute silence hit the tiny archive room.
The realization of what I had just said hit me with the force of a freight train. Oh my god. I just said it. I just confessed while lying on the floor.
I let go of her shoulders and immediately slapped both of my hands over my furiously burning face, trying to curl inward to hide from the absolute disaster I had just created.
"Senpai..." Rina breathed out, her voice trembling with an emotion I was too terrified to look at.
Before she could say another word, I got a call on my smartphone.
I stood up and took the call.
"Akiyama." Nakamura-san’s steady, professional voice clipped through the receiver, the audio bleeding just enough in the quiet room that she could likely hear his tone. "I need both of you at my desk immediately.”
"W-We'll be right there, Nakamura-san!" I replied, my voice pitching embarrassingly high.
I didn't dare look at Rina. If I looked at her, I knew I would completely disintegrate. I aggressively smoothed down the wrinkles in my suit jacket, tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, and speed-walked out of the archive room. Rina was right on my heels, and though I couldn't see her face, the flustered, uneven rhythm of her footsteps told me she was just as panicked as I was.
When we reached the head desk, Nakamura-san was reviewing a digital calendar on his tablet. Fujimoto-san was leaning against the edge of her cubicle, holding a fresh cup of coffee.
“Akiyama. Rina.”
Both of us looked up.
“Meeting room.”
I exchanged a glance with Rina before standing.
“Did we do something wrong?” she whispered.
“I hope not.”
“You look nervous.”
“So do you.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“You just asked me if we did something wrong.”
“…Fair point.”
I smiled as we followed him.
Fujimoto-san was already inside the meeting room, sitting with a folder open in front of her. She looked up when we entered and immediately gave us a knowing smile.
“Ah. The happy couple has arrived.”
I stopped.
Rina stopped.
Nakamura-san sighed.
“Fujimoto.”
“What?”
“They haven’t even sat down.”
“Exactly. I’m giving them time to prepare.”
Rina’s face immediately turned pink.
“We’re not—”
“I know, I know.”
Fujimoto waved her off, grinning.
“Sit down.”
I tried very hard not to look at Rina as we took our seats.
It wasn’t working.
Nakamura opened the folder.
“We’ve received a new client inquiry. They’ve requested an initial meeting.”
He slid a document toward us.
“Their main office is in Yokohama.”
I looked at the page.
Yokohama.
For a moment, I simply stared at it.
I’d attended plenty of meetings before my assignment.
But those had always been inside our office or nearby.
Nakamura must have noticed the hesitation because he leaned back slightly.
“We don’t have to decide immediately.”
Fujimoto nodded.
“It’s your first external meeting since returning, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with it,” Nakamura said. “If you’d rather wait for another opportunity, that’s perfectly acceptable.”
There was no pressure in his voice.
That helped.
I looked down at the document again.
A month and a half ago, I probably would have said no.
But yesterday…
I’d walked into the cafeteria without thinking twice.
I’d taken the train home alone many times now.
I’d spent an entire weekend outside with Kota and Aoi.
And I felt Rina step just a fraction of an inch closer to my side. I remembered the fierce, unwavering way she had defended me in the hallway. I remembered the strength I had found in myself during the previous meetings.
Maybe I didn’t need to wait until I felt completely ready.
Maybe I’d never feel completely ready.
I looked back at Nakamura.
“I’ll go.”
His expression eased immediately.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“I think it’s time.”
Fujimoto’s smile grew.
“That’s my boy.”
I laughed.
“Please don’t say it like that.”
She chuckled.
Nakamura closed the folder.
“Good.”
Then he looked at me.
“You’ll lead the meeting.”
I blinked.
“Me?”
“You’re the senior on the assignment.”
"Sato, you will go as his support. Manage the documentation and ensure the transition goes smoothly."
"Understood," Rina nodded.
I glanced at her.
She smiled.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let you get lost in Yokohama.”
“I wasn’t worried about getting lost.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“…Maybe a little.”
Fujimoto laughed.
“This is perfect.”
“What is?”
“You two going together!”
She leaned back in her chair.
“Very efficient.”
Rina narrowed her eyes.
“Fujimoto-san…”
“What?”
“You have that look again.”
“What look?”
“The look that means you’re about to say something annoying.”
“I would never.”
Nakamura adjusted his glasses.
“You’ve been doing it for weeks.”
“See?” Fujimoto pointed at him. “Even Nakamura-san agrees.”
“I said nothing about the two of them.”
“You didn’t have to.”
I felt heat rising in my face.
Rina looked equally embarrassed.
Fujimoto looked between us.
“…Definitely something going on.”
“Nothing is going on,” I said.
At exactly the same time, Rina said,
“Nothing.”
We both stopped.
Looked at each other.
Then immediately looked away.
Fujimoto’s grin became unbearable.
“Oh, this is getting better.”
Nakamura closed the folder.
“Enough.”
“Fine.”
She stood.
“But I’m calling it now.”
“What are you calling?”
“Nothing.”
She walked toward the door.
“Absolutely nothing.”
Rina waited until she was gone.
“…She knows.”
I sighed.
“Definitely.”
Nakamura gathered his papers.
“She does.”
I stared at him.
“You’re supposed to be our manager.”
“I am.”
“Then you should stop her.”
He gave me the faintest smile.
“Why?”
I had no answer to that.
Rina quietly laughed beside me.
That evening, I was sitting cross-legged on my bed in a loose T-shirt and lounge pants, my hair completely down around me.
The laptop sat open on my desk.
A video call was already connected.
Kota’s face filled half the screen.
Aoi’s appeared beside him.
They were sitting together.
Far too close together.
I narrowed my eyes.
“So…”
Kota immediately became suspicious.
“What?”
“You two really can’t sit separately anymore?”
Aoi shoved his shoulder.
“Ignore him.”
“I can’t. He’s jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“You’re lonely.”
“I’m not lonely.”
Aoi looked at me.
“He’s definitely lonely.”
I laughed.
“How did I become the third wheel in my own conversation?”
“Because you’re single,” Kota said.
I stared at him.
“…You’re enjoying this.”
“Very much.”
Aoi smiled.
“So, what’s going on?”
I hesitated.
My fingers instinctively found a section of my loose hair and began twisting it around my finger.
“There is…”
I cleared my throat.
“…someone at work.”
Both of them went silent.
Kota slowly leaned toward the camera.
“Someone?”
Aoi’s eyes widened.
“Wait.”
She pointed at me.
“Is this Rina?”
My face immediately became warm.
“…How did you know?”
Aoi burst out laughing.
“I knew it!”
Kota slapped his hand against the table.
“Finally!”
“Why are you both so excited?”
“Because you’ve been talking about her for years.”
“I have not.”
“You absolutely have,” Aoi said.
“You used to mention her every few weeks.”
I looked away.
“…That was different.”
Kota grinned.
“Sure.”
I sighed.
“Can you two be serious for five minutes?”
Aoi straightened.
“Okay.”
Kota nodded solemnly.
“We are now professionals.”
“You aren’t convincing.”
“Tell us.”
I took a breath.
“Things have changed.”
I looked down at my hands.
“She’s been really kind to me.”
I told them about the little things.
The coffee.
The client meetings.
"You like her."
I smiled despite myself. "...Yeah."
Kota leaned back. "Then tell her."
"I... I told her."
The reaction was instantaneous. Kota threw his hands up in a silent cheer, and Aoi let out a triumphant gasp.
"I knew it!" Aoi practically yelled. "I told you, Kota! How did she react? Are you guys dating now?"
"That's the problem," I whimpered, burying my face in my hands. "I didn't plan it. We tripped in the archive room, she landed right on top of my... my chest, and I just blurted it out while I was lying on the floor like a total mess. And right after I said it, our boss called us to his desk. We haven't spoken a single word about it since."
Kota winced in deep, sympathetic pain. "Oof. That is... that is rough, man."
"And to make it worse, Nakamura-san just assigned us to a joint external client meeting in Yokohama next Friday," I continued, nervously twirling a loose strand of hair around my finger. "It's just going to be the two of us. For hours. How do I even look at her? How do I tackle this?"
Kota rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. "Look, man, the hardest part is already over. You put it out there. Just be honest. Tell her you meant what you said, but you don't want to pressure her. Just clear the air."
"Kota's right, but you also need to brace yourself," Aoi added, her tone shifting into that blunt, fiercely protective honesty I loved her for. She looked right at the camera. "Haruto, you have to remember that this isn't a standard situation. It’s going to be different for you than it was for Kota and me."
I lowered my mug. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, look at you," Aoi said gently. "You are gorgeous. You have the body of a goddess, you blush like a maiden, and you have entirely different physical boundaries now because of your conditioning. Navigating romance is going to be incredibly complex for both of you. You have to figure out how you want to be treated, and she has to figure out how to love you the right way. It’s a lot to process."
Her words settled over me, heavy but undeniably true.
"I think that’s exactly why you should take it slowly," Kota said.
I nodded. "That’s what I’m thinking."
"But," Aoi smiled, her eyes softening, "if she defended you against those office harpies the way you told us she did? She’s already halfway there. Don't try to make it into some perfect romance. Just spend time together. Let her know you. And let yourself get to know her too. Just give her the space to process it, and give yourself the grace to be exactly who you are right now."
Kota nodded. "And don’t suddenly start acting like some completely different guy because you think that’s what she wants."
I laughed. "That sounds like advice you should have given yourself."
Aoi immediately looked at him. "Exactly."
Kota froze. "...Why are you bringing that up?"
"Because you were an idiot." "I was nervous." "You brought me flowers and then hid behind a vending machine."
I burst out laughing. "You did what?"
Kota’s face went red. "That was one time."
"That was the worst confession strategy I’ve ever heard," I teased.
Aoi crossed her arms. "It worked." "Unfortunately."
We all laughed. For a few minutes, the conversation became nothing but teasing. It felt good. Normal.
Then Aoi’s expression softened. "Haruto…" "Hm?" "There’s one thing you should remember." She spoke carefully. "Your situation is going to make things different."
I nodded. "I know."
"But different doesn’t mean worse." She squeezed Kota’s hand. "Relationships aren’t supposed to look identical for everyone. You don’t have to know exactly what yours is going to look like yet."
Kota nodded. "Just be honest with her. And don’t decide for her whether you’re worth loving."
That caught me off guard. I looked at him.
He shrugged. "That’s her decision."
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Then I smiled, feeling a tight knot in my chest finally loosen. "...You two have gotten annoyingly wise. Thanks, Aoi. Thanks, Kota. I really needed to hear that."
Aoi laughed. "We’ve had practice." Kota nodded proudly. "Mostly because of me." "Don’t ruin the moment."
We chatted for another half hour about trivial things before finally logging off.
The apartment was quiet again. I set my laptop aside, lay back against my pillow, and stared at the ceiling.
Rina.
Just thinking her name made something warm move through my chest. I still didn’t know what would happen. I didn’t know whether I was ready. I didn’t know whether she would still feel the same after learning everything about me.
But perhaps… I didn’t need to know yet.
For so long, I’d thought my life had to return to the way it was before. The old Haruto. The old body. The old habits. The old life. Now I was beginning to understand that maybe that wasn’t the goal. Maybe I could build something new. Something that belonged to me.
And perhaps… if Rina wanted to be part of that life… I could let her.
I reached up, pulling a section of my hair over my shoulder and letting it fall smoothly through my fingers.
For once, the thought of tomorrow didn't frighten me. It made me curious. It was going to be the day I finally figured out if there was a place for my heart in this new life, too.
Day before the Visit
The afternoon sun was already casting long, golden shadows across the department floor by the time I started packing my briefcase. I neatly stacked the printed meeting agendas for tomorrow into a folder, double-checking that all the client backgrounds were accounted for.
"Leaving early today, Akiyama-kun?" Fujimoto-san asked, peering over her monitor as she took a sip of her afternoon coffee.
"Yes, just by an hour," I replied, clicking my briefcase shut. "Nakamura-san gave me the clear to take the rest of the afternoon off to prepare for tomorrow."
"Good idea. Get some rest tonight," she smiled warmly. "You're going to knock their socks off in Yokohama."
I offered a polite bow of thanks. As I stood up to put my suit jacket on, Rina rolled her chair a bit closer to the edge of our partition.
"Heading out?" she asked softly, her dark eyes looking up at me.
"Yeah. I have to meet my mom at the station," I explained, adjusting my collar so the fabric didn't pinch the straps of my bra. "We have somewhere we need to be this afternoon."
Rina didn't pry. She just offered an understanding nod. "Okay. Have a safe trip. Just to confirm our schedule for tomorrow…we’re meeting at the Shinagawa station ticket gates at 8:30 AM, right? We'll take the Tokaido Line down together."
"8:30 at Shinagawa," I confirmed, a small, involuntary flutter returning to my chest as our eyes met. Since the archive room incident, our interactions had been awkward, yet sweet. "I'll be there."
"See you tomorrow, Senpai," she smiled & said goodbye.
The train ride to the suburbs was quiet. I stood near the doors, watching the dense Tokyo skyline gradually give way to quieter residential neighbourhoods. When I stepped off at the local station, I immediately spotted my mother waiting near the ticket machines. She was wearing a simple dark dress and carrying a wooden bucket and a fresh bouquet of white chrysanthemums.
"Haruto," she smiled as I walked up to her.
"Sorry to make you wait, Mom. Let's go."
We walked side-by-side up the sloping hill toward the cemetery. The late afternoon air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of approaching autumn. We reached the public cemetery.
Carved into the dark, polished granite was my sister's name. Mio Akiyama.
She had been three years younger than me. She was loud, fiercely independent, and endlessly kind. When I was eighteen, a cruel bullying incident at her high school had escalated into a horrific, freak accident. She was gone before I even made it to the hospital.
My mother and I worked in comfortable silence. I rolled up the sleeves of my dress shirt and used the wooden ladle to pour fresh water over the headstone, washing away the dust and fallen leaves, while my mother arranged the chrysanthemums in the stone vases. We lit the incense, the thin trails of fragrant smoke spiralling up into the cool air.
We brought our hands together, closing our eyes in silent prayer.
"She would be twenty-two this year," my mother murmured softly, her eyes still closed. "She always said she wanted to work in fashion."
"She would have been amazing at it," I replied, with a bittersweet smile on my lips.
My mother opened her eyes, turning to look at me.
"I'm going to go wait down by the entrance," she said, "Take your time."
"Thanks, Mom."
I listened to her footsteps fade down the stone path, leaving me alone in the quiet cemetery. A gentle breeze swept through the trees, tugging at the ends of my hair. I let out a long, shaky breath, sinking down to my knees in front of the headstone. I carefully smoothed my slacks underneath me, tucking my legs neatly to the side.
"Hey, Mio," I whispered. "It's big brother."
I stared at her name carved into the stone, a heavy lump forming in my throat.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I haven't been here in three years. I couldn't... I couldn't come. "I wasn't well, Mio. I went through something terrible. For a long time, I forgot who I was. I forgot how to fight."
I reached up, pressing my hands against my eyes to stop the tears.
"I don't even know if you'd recognise me right now," I laughed. I let my hands drop, resting them in my lap as I looked at the gravestone.
My eyes drifted toward my braid.
"My hair is longer than yours now."
I smiled faintly.
"My body changed too."
"I know you can't see me."
"But..."
I took a breath.
"I still don't know how to feel about it."
"I was so angry at first. So terrified. But... I'm trying to be better, Mio. I'm trying to live again. The people at the office have been kind. Kota and Aoi are doing great; they're actually dating now. You'd probably tease them mercilessly for taking so long."
I thought of Rina.
I couldn't help smiling.
"There's someone..."
I stopped.
"...I think you would've liked her."
I rubbed the back of my neck.
"She's kind."
"She doesn't treat me like I'm broken."
"She doesn't stare."
"Well..."
I smiled.
"She does look at my hair sometimes."
A quiet laugh.
"But I don't mind."
I looked at Mio's photograph.
"I think..."
I wasn't sure how to finish.
"I think I like her."
Saying it aloud made my chest feel strangely light.
Then another thought followed.
"...I'm scared, though."
I looked at the grave.
"You would've told me to stop overthinking."
I could almost hear her voice.
You're an idiot, Onii-chan.
I smiled.
"...Yeah."
I lowered my head.
"I miss you."
This time, I didn't try to say anything clever.
I just stayed there.
I placed my hand gently against the granite.
"Watch over me tomorrow, okay? I miss you."
I stayed there for a few more minutes, letting the cool wind dry my cheeks. Finally, I stood up, brushed the dust from my knees, and walked back down the hill.
My mother was waiting by the stone archway of the entrance. She linked her arm through mine as we began the walk back to the station.
"Do you feel ready for tomorrow?" she asked.
"I think so," I nodded, subconsciously reaching up to adjust my collar again. "I know the material perfectly. I'm just nervous about being in front of clients looking... like this."
"About that," my mother smiled, a little mischievously. "When we get home, there's a garment bag hanging on the back of your bedroom door."
I blinked in surprise. "A garment bag?"
"I bought you a new suit," she said. "Haruto, I know you take comfort in wearing your old menswear to the office, and I fully support whatever makes you feel safe. But your old suits don't fit your new body properly. The jackets pull across your chest, the shoulders are too broad, and the trousers don't account for your hips."
I ducked my head, my cheeks flushing slightly. She was right.
"Tomorrow is a big day," she continued gently, squeezing my arm. "I had this one tailored specifically for your current measurements. It's still a classic, professional men's suit, but it's adjusted to your new body so you can move comfortably, and more importantly, so you can walk into that room looking confident and intentional. I want you to feel as beautiful and strong on the outside as you are on the inside."
I couldn't argue with that.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
She looked at me for a moment.
"You'll look handsome."
I smiled.
"...I hope so."
She reached up and briefly adjusted the collar of my shirt.
"You will."
We continued walking.
After a moment, she added,
"And don't worry about trying to prove anything tomorrow."
I looked at her.
"Just do your job."
I nodded.
"That's what I'm planning to do."
"And if you get nervous?"
"I'll breathe."
"Good."
She smiled.
By the time we reached the Home, the sky had begun turning orange.
Tomorrow was supposed to be just another client meeting.
But somehow, after today...
It felt like more than that.
I had stood in front of Mio's grave and admitted that I was afraid.
I had admitted that I liked someone.
And tomorrow, for the first time since returning, I would step outside the office for something that actually mattered professionally.
Later that night, the black garment bag Mom had bought for me hung from the back of my bedroom door. I touched the dark fabric through the cover, then smiled faintly.
Tomorrow.
Yokohama.
A client meeting.
Rina.
I didn't open the bag. Everything was ready.
I changed into my sleep clothes, turned off the light, and slipped beneath the blankets.
I was tired enough that sleep came quickly.
At first, there was only warmth.
I was standing in the small meeting room at the office, though it didn't look quite like the real one. The lights were softer, the room quieter. Evening sunlight poured through the windows.
Rina stood in front of me.
She was smiling.
"You look nervous."
"I am."
"Tomorrow?"
I nodded.
"You'll be fine."
"You always say that."
"Because you're always worrying."
She laughed.
I smiled.
She stepped closer.
There was no hesitation in her face.
No pity.
No uncertainty.
She reached out and touched my cheek.
Her fingers gently brushed the side of my face.
"I like you, Senpai," she murmured.
Her voice was comforting. She stepped closer, effortlessly closing the distance between us, her hand sliding down to interlock with mine. It felt so incredibly safe. I let my eyes flutter shut, leaning into her soft touch, my heart swelling with overwhelming hope.
I squeezed her hand.
The warmth vanished.
Cold rushed through my fingers.
The smell of her perfume disappeared.
In its place came the sharp smell of antiseptic.
The sunlight went white.
The room stretched.
Metal shelves rose around me.
Boxes.
Files.
A narrow aisle.
An archive room.
My stomach dropped.
I knew this place.
I didn't want to.
But I knew.
Click.
A heel struck the floor.
I looked up.
Rina was gone.
Click.
The sharp, rhythmic sound of a stiletto heel hitting the floor echoed too loudly in the suffocating silence.
Click.
Someone stood at the other end of the aisle.
Long black hair.
A white blouse.
A dark vest.
A skirt.
The same face I'd seen in the mirror more times than I could count.
Hina.
"Oh, Haruto."
Her voice was terrifyingly familiar, high, breathy, and unmistakably hers.
"Why are you still pretending?"
My throat tightened.
"...No."
She tilted her head.
"You remember me."
"I know who you are."
"Do you?"
She took a slow step forward.
Her voice was softer than mine. Higher. Familiar in a way that made my stomach turn.
"You can hide in a men's suit all you want."
"Don't."
"But you can't hide what we are." I clenched my jaw.
Her eyes softened with a twisted, horrific kind of pity. She looked at me not like a monster, but like a wounded animal that just needed to be put out of its misery.
"You're exhausting yourself, Haruto. It's so much easier to just give in."
"No."
"You remember what we did. You remember how quiet your mind finally got when they broke you down."
"Stop."
"You begged them to brush our hair."
A sorrowful smile stretched across her glossy lips.
"You liked wearing the skirts because it meant you didn't have to be strong anymore. You liked being weak."
"I was forced."
"You loved it when they praised you for being such a good, pretty girl. Why go back to fighting?"
I shut my eyes.
"I didn't choose any of it."
Hina's voice softened.
"I know."
That somehow made it worse.
She came closer.
"You don't have to hate me, Haruto."
My eyes opened.
"I am you."
"No."
"You still carry things I learned."
Her gaze dropped briefly toward my hair.
"You still keep it long."
I said nothing.
"You still braid it."
My throat tightened.
"You still reach for things without realising why."
"Stop."
Hina smiled faintly.
"Some parts of me never left."
A second voice came from the darkness behind her.
"She's right."
From the pitch-black shadows at the end of the archive aisle, a towering silhouette emerged. My heart completely stopped.
The Boss.
His face was completely hidden by shadow.
I couldn't see his eyes.
He took one step forward.
"You went home."
"You returned to your office."
"You found your friends."
"And now you've found someone you care about."
His voice remained calm.
"Rina."
My jaw tightened.
"Leave her out of this."
"Why?"
I said nothing.
The Boss stopped.
"You haven't told her."
The words were simple.
"You haven't told her what happened."
"I will."
"When?"
I didn't answer.
Hina leaned in, her freezing breath brushing against my ear.
"Do you really think Rina wants this?" she whispered.
I tried to pull away. I couldn't even flinch.
"She thinks you fought it."
"She understands."
"What if she knew how completely you surrendered?" Hina's eyes widened with innocence.
"What if she met me?"
The Boss stepped forward.
"She will be disgusted."
No."
"She will reject the thing you have become."
Hina laughed. The sound was high and crystalline, echoing off the metal shelves like shattering glass.
Hina whispered:
"You couldn't protect yourself."
"Stop."
"And now you think you can protect Rina? She’ll leave."
"Enough!"
My voice echoed through the archive room.
Silence.
No!
I woke with a gasp.
I sat upright in bed.
For several seconds, I couldn't understand where I was.
Dark room.
Curtains.
Wardrobe.
The garment bag hanging beside the door.
Home.
Safe.
I pressed a hand against my chest and tried to slow my breathing.
One breath.
Another.
The sheets were twisted around my legs.
My hair had come loose during the night and was spread across the pillow and my shoulders.
I looked toward the clock.
4:12 AM.
Too early.
My hands were still shaking.
I rubbed my eyes.
The dream was already beginning to break apart.
But the words remained.
She'll leave.
I looked at my hands.
Without thinking, my fingers moved through my hair.
They gathered the loose strands and tucked them behind my ears.
I froze.
I hadn't decided to do that.
My fingers had simply remembered.
I stared at them in the darkness.
For a moment, I could almost hear Hina's voice again.
Some parts of me never left.
I lowered my hands.
Then I looked toward the suit hanging by the door.
Tomorrow.
Yokohama.
Rina.
I closed my eyes.
"I have to tell her."
My voice was barely audible.
I opened my eyes again.
"I have to."
Because if I really wanted her in my life...
Eventually, she deserved the truth.
Even if I was terrified of what she might see.
Rina
The digital clock above the Shinagawa station ticket gates read 8:10 AM.
I had arrived far earlier than necessary.
The meeting wasn't until later, and I had checked the train schedule at least three times already. Still, I found myself standing near the entrance, one hand resting lightly around the strap of my bag as I watched the station slowly fill with people.
I adjusted my ponytail.
Then checked my reflection in the dark glass of a nearby shop.
My hair was tied neatly, high enough to keep it out of my face. My formal blouse and dark skirt were pressed perfectly, and I'd spent far too long that morning deciding what earrings to wear.
I looked...Fine.
More than fine.
So why was I so nervous?
I really like you, Rina.
His voice from the archive room echoed in my mind on a dizzying loop. We were going to spend the entire day together, travelling to Yokohama. Just the two of us. I gripped the strap of my bag, breathing out a shaky sigh. I just wanted to see him. That was all. At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
The morning commuter rush was a sea of dark suits and briefcases, but the moment he approached from the other side of the entrance, the rest of the world faded into the background.
My breath caught.
Haruto.
He was wearing a new suit, a brand-new, impeccably tailored dark charcoal-grey jacket and matching trousers. It didn't hang loosely on his frame like his old menswear used to. Instead, fitted neatly to his current figure without looking uncomfortable. His white shirt was crisp, his tie perfectly straight.
Instead of his usual heavy braid, his waist-length black hair had been tied into a big yet elegant bun secured tightly at the back of his head. He still looked...Beautiful & feminine, yet he carried himself with a dignity that I had always admired.
His eyes found mine. He smiled.
"Morning, Rina."
"Good morning, Senpai," I breathed out, completely unable to hide the awe in my voice. "I just got here. You... you look amazing. That suit is perfect on you."
"Thank you. My mother helped me pick it out."
“Your mother has good taste."
"My mother will be pleased to hear that."
I smiled.
He paused, looking me over. "And you... you look incredibly pretty today. The ponytail really suits you."
"...Thank you," I stuttered, ducking my head to hide a ridiculous, giddy smile.
There was something almost amusing about how formal we were being with each other. Like two coworkers meeting for the first time. We both knew that wasn't true anymore.
I noticed his eyes a second later.
He looked tired.
Not exhausted.
Just...
Like he hadn't slept properly.
"Senpai," I asked, gentler. "Did you sleep last night?"
"Not very well."
Something in his expression made me want to ask more.
But I remembered his boundaries.
So I simply nodded.
"Then we're getting coffee," I said with a warm smile, pointing toward a nearby café kiosk. "Both of us. I'm not letting our lead negotiator fall asleep on the train."
"I'll try my best."
"That's not reassuring."
"Sorry."
"There," I teased.
"You're already apologising."
He gave me a small, embarrassed smile. "...Old habit."
I bought the coffees, handing him a steaming cup before we made our way through the gates.
Once we boarded the train, we found two empty seats side-by-side by the window. He placed his briefcase by his feet, taking a sip of his coffee as the train lurched forward, leaving the sprawling metropolis of Tokyo behind.
For a while, neither of us spoke. The gentle rocking of the carriage caused our shoulders to brush occasionally, sending little jolts of electricity straight to my chest. I watched his reflection in the dark glass of the window. His face looked calm, but I knew him well enough now to notice the little things.
The way his fingers occasionally tightened around the warm paper cup. The way his gaze stayed fixed outside instead of wandering through the carriage. The way he seemed to be somewhere else entirely.
He was incredibly brave, stepping out into the world like this, wearing a suit that finally fit his body. But as I watched that distant look in his dark eyes, I realised that the ghosts of his three-year absence were still haunting him. Whatever we were facing in Yokohama, he had already decided he was going to carry it alone.
I wasn't going to let him.
I gently shifted my arm, letting my shoulder press softly but firmly against his.
"Senpai."
He looked at me. "Yeah?"
"We'll be fine."
A faint smile appeared on his lips. "I know."
He looked back out the window, his hand tightening slightly around the coffee cup once more. I watched him for another moment, settling in for the ride. I didn't know yet that I was about to hear the story he'd spent three years trying to survive.
The train carried us steadily toward Yokohama.
END PART II
Thank you for reading and sticking with Aftermath — Part 2.