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I'm such a great big Wapanese loser that I've used a lot of Japanese terms in this very manga-themed story. If you're not familiar with these, I have described them below: Moe: a Japanese culture concept and slang term for the qualities that make things hopelessly adorable. Sozu: a type of water fountain used in Japanese gardens. A small tube of bamboo is filled with water, causing it to tip and hit a rock. Gakuran: a common male uniform in Japanese schools. It is usually, but not always black. Like the female equivalent sailor fuku, gakurans are themed after military naval uniforms. Kira: look up 'Ranka Lee's Kira Pose'. Boku: "I, a non-threatening male". Common informal male pronoun. Also commonly used by young boys. Atashi: "I, a girl". A feminine contraction of the formal gender-neutral pronoun 'watashi'. Yuri: the genre name for lesbian romance stories in anime/manga, or just a name for lesbian-themed content in general. Tsundere: Japanese term for a special type of personality trait where a person alternates between abrasive and love-struck. Quite a popular character archetype, perhaps suggesting that anime fans are somewhat masochistic. Mochi: Japanese cake made from glutinous rice. Noh mask: a traditional Japanese theatre mask. Hentai: you've probably heard this one before. This is basically Japan's word for pornographic art and animation. Eroge: short-hand for erotic games. Doujinshi: a term for independently published manga. Some doujinshi is original work, and some of it is fan-work (like fanfiction). Most of these are purely flavor text, and won't affect the story itself. It still helps if you've read manga or watched anime before and understand a little bit of the culture. Otherwise, it's a fairly simple "girl makes boy into cross-dresser and eventually he starts to like it" story. Also, a fair warning: this story is reasonably long. I originally intended for it to be a short story under 10,000 words, but then I started added a bunch of stuff and it grew from there. The actual dress- up happens around a quarter of the way through. Feel free to contact me at [email protected]. CHARM POINT Silence fell over the entire third year hallway. All third year students hung out of their classrooms, gawking at the spectacle taking place. I waited, with baited breath, for Momoko's reply, knowing that I had sealed my fate. Minutes passed while Momoko hung on to my words, thinking. Contemplating. "Sorry, but you're just not cute enough." And that is exactly what Momoko said to me that morning when I confessed to her my undying love and admiration, right outside her classroom on the third floor of the school. Sorry, but you're just not cute enough. That was her final verdict. I nearly buckled at the knees. "Oh, I see," I said, and I laughed awkwardly, "never mind then." She stepped forward and patted me on the shoulder, then turned on her heel and skipped away without as much as another word. Her skirt swayed as she moved, and her long dark hair flowed gracefully. She disappeared around the corner. I stood there flapping my gums wordlessly like a stupid fish. "Sorry to bother you ..." I said, to thin air. How depressing. The third years had started gawking at me in the corridor, or through the open doors of their classrooms. I could feel all of their eyes burning onto me. I, humble nobody Keita Nagihara, confessed to the beautiful Momoko Muramiya, and she shot me down in an instant. I could feel the shame burning into my face. What the hell was I thinking? "What are you all looking at?" I said, venomously. Everyone who was watching suddenly jumped in to action, trying to hide the fact that they'd been ogling me the entire time. People quickly dispersed from small crowds, feigned conversation, or ducked away into their classrooms. I knew they were all probably secretly thinking the same thing. "Wow, what a loser." I turned back and ran for the stairs. * So honestly, I didn't have a very good rationale for what I did that morning -- only a lot of dumb love for the girl named Momoko Muramiya. I figured that was good enough reason to go ahead and do stupid things, right? People do stupid things when they're in love. They also shouldn't -- especially not when it involves the most popular girl at Arakami Municipal Middle School. I wasn't like everyone the other boys, who were drawn to Momoko's looks and popularity more than anything else. It wasn't her looks or popularity that drew me to Momoko, but something that happened in the first few weeks after I got back from the holidays to start my second year. Something that I could still remember quite clearly. I first signed up for the literature club a few weeks after arriving at Arakami. I was a small, bookish freshman straight out of grade school, and the school mandated at least one club activity, so the literature club was an obvious choice. At the time, there were only two other members: a friend from grade school named Minami Koyanagi, and a second year student named Hiroshi Akita. Neither of them were the kind of people you would expect to meet in a literature club. You wouldn't even expect them to pick up a book. If I had to describe Minami Koyanagi, I would say that she was a little too energetic. I had known her since half-way through grade school, and never for a moment did she change one bit while growing up. Minami was and continued to be a sporty tomboy with too much energy for her own good. Minami was not exclusively a literature club member, though. If she wasn't reading books about martial arts and feudal samurais, she was the kendo club's most skilled member and "unofficial mascot". Hiroshi Akita wasn't like the other second year boys. From a first glance, you'd immediately be right to assume that he was some kind of delinquent -- he was far too cool to be anything else. Unlike the other delinquents, Hiroshi didn't mingle with delinquent gangs, preferring to play lone wolf. This and his nonchalant attitude, disregard for class attendance, and general misdemeanor made him the object of affection for a very long line of "girls who want bad boys". So imagine my surprise when Hiroshi told me that he secretly loved reading books. At first, I thought he was messing with me, and that he would immediately lead on to my physical injury and/or damage to my personal pride. Nope, he was actually serious. If anyone ever made fun of that, he said he'd beat them up. I took that pretty seriously. As for me? I wasn't anyone special. I didn't stand out like they did. All I had to work with was my clumsiness, cowardice, and literacy. Well, that's not entirely true. I distinctively remembered both Minami and Hiroshi agreeing that my greatest virtue was having quite a pretty face -- which apparently put them both to shame. Minami lamented that I could easily be prettier than her if I really wanted to be, and on the occasional good day, I often was. Hiroshi had thought I was a boyish- looking girl when we first met. "Hey. Aren't you wearing the wrong uniform?" said Hiroshi, when I walked into the club room for the very first time. He stood up, strode over to me, and looked at me thoroughly. "N-no," I said. His size was intimidating. "Wait -- you're a boy, aren't you? I thought we were getting a new girl in the club for a moment, but then I saw that you were wearing the boy's uniform," he said. "Um ... sorry to disappoint?" I said. Hiroshi absolutely towered over me. "Are you sure you're a boy?" he said. "P-pretty sure," I said. I didn't think I could handle his intense stare for much longer. Suddenly, Minami came into the room from behind and grabbed me around the waist. "Let go of me!" I said. Teasingly, Minami grabbed my belt buckle and said to Hiroshi, "do you want to make sure?" Hiroshi stared, looking contemplative, as if seriously considering pulling down my pants to make sure. "No, that's okay. I believe you," he said. After that, Hiroshi would later jokingly note that if he ever grew tired of chasing girls, I could be his next target. At least, I thought it was a joke. Surely. The previous club leader and several of the club's members graduated last year, which left the club in a state of disarray with only one member. Minami joined before me, and I joined just a few days later. I wouldn't consider anyone in the group to be "leader material". Minami was a chaotic, disorganized mess-maker, and Hiroshi was too busy skipping classes and hitting on freshmen girls to care. I wasn't leader material either, but that didn't stop them from voting me for the club leader shortly after I joined. A year passed, and nothing happened. Not one single person joined the club. We remained just three measly members. It seemed that nobody else was interested in literature like we were. By the time I had moved on to my second year, I had already gotten over it. As the leader of the club, I would have liked to say that I was in control, but that would be an outright lie. Literature club was never routine. There were too few of us to have any kind of semblance to organization. We met up on random days, sharing books and ideas, sometimes barely even talking about books at all. The student council governed all club activities. Each club required a minimum of three members. Even though the literature club had just enough members to get by, the student council president Ayane Hishikawa didn't stop hounding me about recruitment as soon as my second year started. Hiroshi was a year older than me. I had just started second year. That meant it was Hiroshi's last year at Arakami. He was preparing to graduate at the end of the year and move on to senior high school, which placed the literature club in a dangerous position if Minami and I were the only two members left afterward. That was only part of the reason why Ayane pestered me. The other reason was that she enjoyed it. She delighted in watching me seize up like a gutless wimp. Her authoritarian tone had that kind of effect on a coward like me. Ayane kept an eye on us during our irregular meetings. She kept threatening to disband the club if we stepped out of line. "Nagihara, why haven't you recruited any new members for the club yet?" said Ayane. "I-I'm getting around to it," I said, quietly. "You must think that it's okay because you have plenty of time before Akita graduates, don't you?" said Ayane. "No, I -- " "What if you were to continue putting off recruitment until it's too late -- until the last trimester of the year, when there isn't any time left before Akita graduates and the club gets disbanded?" she said. "I know, I know ... " I said. "I don't think you do," she said. It didn't take long for us to grow tired of Ayane's scrutiny. It wouldn't take much longer before we all snapped. Ayane forced us on to a dangerous tight-rope of sanity. "Doesn't that girl ever take a break?" said Hiroshi. Frustrated, he stopped reading and threw his magazine down on to the desk. "I know, right?" said Minami. "Maybe she could go out and entertain herself every once and a while?" "Or maybe this is her entertainment, huh?" said Hiroshi. I was reaching breaking point when it happened. I was minding my own business on a completely ordinary day, just like any other, reading in the club room, when suddenly an angel walking into the room interrupted my completely ordinary day. Ayane jumped out of the teacher's chair. Minami and Hiroshi dropped their books -- their jaws hitting the floor. The words that came out of the angel's mouth were beautiful and unearthly. She said, "hey Ayane, where did you put my pink stapler with stickers on it?" Ayane huffed, obviously displeased with the angel's appearance. "I have no idea. Perhaps you should be a little more organized, considering that you are the student council's president," she said. It was almost surprising to know that Ayane was not the student council president. I'd always made that assumption because I had never met the real student council president before. It always seemed like Ayane was the one doing all the work, but now I knew that there was actually an angel running the student council president. Since when was god intervening in high school student politics? "Oh well, I'm sure it'll turn up," said the angel, rather unconcerned. "So, whatcha up to, Ayacchan?" Ayane raised an eyebrow. She did not like nicknames. "Vice president Ayane Hishikawa," she said. "Ayacchan," said the angel. Ayane sighed. "I'm ensuring that the literature club meets the standard of all other club activities in the school," she said, a little too dutifully for my liking, "which is work you seem to think you're above." "Well, the student council president is a very busy girl, and is so glad that her beloved vice president Ayacchan is here to lift these sorts of menial tasks off her shoulders!" said the angel, smiling genuinely. "Perhaps you'd like to take over for a short while?" said Ayane. "No thanks," said the angel. "I'm not much for scrutinizing these three poor club members I see here." "I am not scrutinizing, I am ensuring that certain standards in this school are kept in line," said Ayane. "What seems to be the problem, anyway?" Ayane pushed her glasses up her sweaty nose bridge. "The club will be disbanded at the end of the year when Mr. Akita -- who is a senior -- graduates and moves on to high school. As you know, a club cannot be maintained without at least three members," said Ayane. "Ah, I see," said the angel, scratching her head. "That is a dilemma." If this angel was the real student council president, there was no way Ayane wouldn't listen to her if she decided she wanted the literature club to stay. Surely she'd do something to help us? She was an angel, after all -- not like the frumpy and bespectacled Ayane Hishikawa with her hawk-like eyes. "Sucks for you guys, huh?" said the angel. I face faulted and nearly fell out of my chair. That was it? The student council president -- no, the angel sent by god wasn't going to do anything? "Well, I suppose that means the literature club is resigned to its fate. Without another member, I can't justify letting the club continue to use school resources," said Ayane. I looked at the angel. I tried to convey my plight silently in my facial expressions. Maybe I even unintentionally begged. For a moment, I thought I saw a glint of recognition when she locked eyes with mine. Then, she looked away and frowned. "It's hardly fair that you're picking on this club in particular. Isn't the occult observations club also currently in a similar situation?" she said. "I-I wouldn't know about that ... " said Ayane. "But I thought you were in charge of that sort of thing?" "Well, so are you!" The angel sighed. She smiled apologetically at Ayane. "Then I guess I have no choice," she said, shrugging, "I'll have to join the literature club." "You've got to be kidding me," said Ayane. "Nagihara," said the angel, her hand reaching out to me, "be a dear and fetch me the member roster." I panicked when I realized that I had no idea where we kept the damn thing. The last time I used it was when I signed up. I scurried through each of the drawers at the teacher's desk, and eventually found the clipboard in the bottom drawer. Attached was a single sheet of flimsy paper with several crossed-out names belonging to a long string of ex- members. I handed the clipboard to the angel. She took it in her delicate hands and winked at me. I looked away and blushed. "Anyone have a pen?" said the angel. Hiroshi whipped a pen out of nowhere and handed it to her. He bowed politely and rushed back to his place at the far corner of the room. "Okay, let's see here ... " The four of us all watched with baited breath while the angel scrawled her name onto the paper in black ink. After a few seconds, the angel stopped writing. She handed the clipboard back to me. "There!" she said. "The literature club has a new member." I scanned the bottom of the member roster, where she wrote her name in loopy calligraphy with a small heart at the end. The angel's name was Momoko Muramiya. "You can't do that! It's -- it's unprofessional!" said Ayane. "Why not? I have supreme authority over all club memberships," said Momoko. Ayane started clenching her fists and grinding her teeth. She went red, and it looked as though she were ready to burst and start emitting steam from her ears. "Fine! I'll go pressure the occult club, then!" she said, finally. Ayane stormed out of the room and slammed the sliding door behind her. She left a huge awkward silence in the air she left behind. "Keep up the good work, guys," said Momoko, smiling. The three of us smiled back and waved as she left the room. As soon as she was good, Minami turned to Hiroshi, looking rather excited. "Wasn't that Momoko?" she said. "Yeah," said Hiroshi, dumbfounded. "She's so pretty, isn't she?" said Minami. "I know." Hiroshi examined the pen Momoko had used. "I'll never use this pen again," he said. They both look at me expectantly. They were waiting for me to gush over Momoko. "She's ... nice," I said. My response was underwhelming and left them both speechless. "You've never even heard about her, have you?" said Minami. "No, I -- " "Keita, do you really not know about the most popular girl in school? I talked about how she rejected me just last week. Don't you even remember?" said Hiroshi. "Uh -- " "It's okay, Keita. You always have your head stuck in a book. It only makes sense that you're the least informed person in the entire universe. Let me fill you in," said Minami. Momoko's reputation was apparently huge. It was appalling that I didn't know about it sooner. Minami and Hiroshi couldn't believe that I didn't know about the single most popular girl in school. Every single week, at least one boy (or girl) asked Momoko out on a date, if not more, and every single week, she refused them all. The next day, Momoko showed up at our club meeting and sat at the teacher's desk. She watched us with a smile on her face. I couldn't read a single word off my page. I kept getting distracted by the way Momoko twirled her hair with her fingers, or rested both her elbows on the desk and propped her face up, or the way she kept smiling the entire time. Momoko said nothing the entire thirty minutes we spent there. She didn't even say anything when Ayane slid the door open, saw her, and backed out instantly. I felt like she was watching me. Maybe it was wishful thinking -- no, I'm absolutely sure that it was wishful thinking. A girl like Momoko would never look at me. There was no way she was pointing that cat-like smile in my general direction. There was no way she was actually looking at me when I exited the room and felt like I still had eyes on me. There was no way that click sound was her taking my picture with her cell phone when I wasn't looking. There was no way she had a particular reason for asking me about my height and weight, and then insisting on measuring me when I told her I didn't know. I certainly knew that I was looking at her, though. She fascinated me. Momoko was my total opposite -- nobody ever noticed that I existed, but everybody noticed her. I was timid and quiet, but Momoko was loud and exuberant. I was a boy, and she was a girl. It only made sense that I'd fall in love. * The full extent of my actions only started to sink in when I made it back to class that afternoon. I was just Keita Nagihara. I wasn't anyone special. I didn't have exceptional grades. She was older than me. Sure, we were both in the literature club, but that was literally all we had in common. She never even attended the meetings. In fact, since our first meeting she came back to the club room twice for all of ten minutes each. I don't know why it happened. It was like a supernatural force had possessed my body and driven it towards its ultimate doom. In class, I definitely caught a few of my classmates stealing glances in my general direction, probably wondering what kind of idiot would confess to an upperclassman many, many leagues above himself. How was I supposed to face my friends? Or even civilization? Would I have to run away and spend the rest of my life in the wilderness, never to contact another human again? I had to get away from people, at least for a little while. Class ended in a hurry. I made a dash for the door, plunging into the crowd of students all heading towards the exit and into the courtyard. I had almost made it out of the building when a fast blur tackled my waist and pulled me into a hug, followed by some merciless tickling. "Minami, let go of me!" I said. I struggled to breathe. "Baby Keita grew a spine!" said Minami. "And you're about to break it!" I said. Minami paused. "You think I can't be gentle?" she said. "Absolutely," I said. She let go. "So, how did it go? You totally wooed the girl, right?" she said. "No, I did not woo any girls," I said. "Aw, you were rejected?" said Minami. "Yes. Thoroughly." Minami pulled me into a tight hug. I nearly suffocated. "Poor baby Keita feels the sting of his first rejection," Minami said soothingly. "Little does he know that he's much stronger than he thinks. He'll recover." "Minami," I said, rather gravely, "do you even know who it was I confessed to?" "No, I just heard from the others that it was some senior girl. Why?" said Minami. "I confessed to Momoko." Minami let go. Her eyes widened. "You didn't." "I did." "I take back everything I just said. There is no hope for you. You're doomed," said Minami. "Thanks a lot," I said. She grabbed both of my shoulders, and looked very serious. "Where is the real Keita?" she said, shaking me wildly. "I know you're in there. You can come out now. I won't stand for this impostor any longer." "It's me," I said. "I swear." "Keita, when did you get so brave? What happened?" said Minami. "What, am I not capable of the occasional bout of stupidity?" I said. "No. You are a very level-headed person, Keita. You would never do something like that," said Minami. "I can be brave!" I said, indignantly. "But you were a total wimp a year ago -- no, you were a total wimp just yesterday! Now you're a big shot confessing to the most popular girl in school? Have you gone crazy?" she said. "It doesn't matter," I said. "She rejected me. That's all there is to it." I turned around and wrenched myself from Minami's grip. "At least you tried," said Minami. "I'm not going to win any gold medals for trying," I said. "You don't win gold medals for scoring dates with girls," said Minami. "Well, I should," I said. I started walking towards the exit. Minami strode to catch up. People were approaching me to ask questions, but she shooed them away, saying "dead man walking here," as she did. Eventually, the crowd of students filing out of the school swept me away. I got separated from Minami. I managed to escape into solitude near the outer wall of the school, just behind the cherry blossom trees. There was a small wooden bench there, where nobody ever sat. There was no way my friends could find me there. Nobody could. Momoko was not a nobody. My heart stopped when I saw her face just around the corner. Before I could run, she saw me and started walking over. I had no idea what she wanted. There was no way she could have changed her mind, and I couldn't think of any other reason why we would ever need to interact again after my little morning stunt in front of the older students. Momoko sat down right next to me and started dangling her legs playfully. Instantly, my fight or flight instinct went into overdrive. My heart was practically threatening to burst out of my chest and climb over the school wall. From this distance, I could smell the scent in her hair. What kind of shampoo did she use that made her hair smell so good? "What was your name, again?" said Momoko, breaking several moments of agonizing silence. "K-Keita," I said. Momoko clicked her fingers. Oh no. She recognized me. "Oh yeah, I remember. Keita Nagihara, head of the literature club, right?" she said. "S-sort of," I said. She smiled. "Do you know what would have happened if I accepted your feelings this morning? With all those people watching?" she said. "Chaos?" I said. "Exactly. People would get hurt. I had no choice but to refuse," she said. My vocal chords seized up in an effort to prevent me from saying something stupid. Why couldn't they have done that earlier?! Momoko simply pressed on. "So, after school, why don't we walk home together?" she said. "What?" "Meet me at the front gate, and you can walk me home," she said. She paused. "Actually, why don't you come to my house, and we can hang out?" This was a delirious hallucination, surely. "What?" I said, again. "I'm giving you a chance," said Momoko, bluntly. She stood, turned, and smiled at me. "You'll meet me at the gate, right?" she said. I looked at her. I was dumbfounded. "O-okay," I said. "Good," she said, smiling. "Okay, see you later, then!" Momoko turned around and skipped away without another word. She disappeared around the corner and out of sight. After she was gone, I wondered if it had really happened, or if my imagination was simply overactive. No, it was just my imagination, surely. As if Momoko would really be waiting for me at the front gate of the school. The chances of that were slim. * Momoko was waiting at the front gate of the school, clutching her bag by the strap. I knew that from the instant I stepped out into the sun and began surveying the courtyard, looking for any sign of girls with medium-length dark hair. Saturday was a half-day at Arakami Municipal Middle School. Students shuffled out of their classes early. They were just about ready to start enjoying their brief weekends. I was hesitant to go outside into the school's courtyard with Momoko quite clearly standing out there in the open. I knew a few ways to escape the school that didn't involve walking through the front gate. For instance, you could climb over the walls near the cherry blossom trees. I was tempted to try doing that to avoid the shame and embarrassment of whatever was about to come, but I knew I didn't have the physical strength. Before I could take another step, Momoko saw me and called out. "Keita!" she said. "Over here!" I breathed in deeply. It was too late to escape. I slowly walked over to where Momoko stood and waved. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come," she said. "I was held up by a teacher," I said. "Well, I'm glad you didn't try to escape over the near the wall by the cherry blossom trees, at least!" she said. I started sweating nervously. "Y-yeah. I never considered it," I said. "Let's go, then!" she said. Momoko turned on her heel and strode down the path. I always took the left path from the school to get home, but Momoko was going in the complete opposite direction. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to literally walk further away from my house. "You coming?" said Momoko. Did I even have a choice? Whether this was part of an elaborate plan to embarrass me further or not, I'd be a fool not to take the tiny sliver of a chance no other boy had. I'd have wasted a huge opportunity. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and followed. I couldn't stop looking at Momoko from behind. So this was what it felt like to be a stalker? I looked away. "So Keita," Momoko said airily, "what kinds of music do you like?" I looked up. Momoko wanted to break the silence with conversation, to help make things less awkward. "I don't know," I said, truthfully. "I like Amuro Namie and Perfume. Nocchi is the best," she said. "Cool," I said. Awkward silence. "What about TV shows?" said Momoko. "Are there any you like to watch?" I couldn't answer, and simply said, "uh ... " "I'm trying to help you. Work with me," she said. "I-I don't know," I said. "Well, what are you interested in, then?" "Well, I like to read ... " "Oh, of course! What kind of books do you read?" "I just finished reading Norwegian Wood ... " "Cool!" said Momoko. "Sorry that I never show up for the literature club. I'm just busy with the student council and table tennis, you know?" Momoko could never show up for a single meeting for all I cared. She was damn well entitled to it. "It's okay," I said, smiling weakly. "If it wasn't for you there wouldn't even be a literature club." "Do you do anything else in your free time?" said Momoko. "Well, uh ... " "No video games? Anime? Manga?" said Momoko. "I'm not really into those sorts of things," I said. "Don't you have a hobby, or something? Aside from reading?" she said. "Not really." Momoko stopped and turned around. She put her hands on her hips and stared at me. For a moment, I thought I was about to be scolded. Instead, Momoko sighed. "We can fix that," she said, smiling. "Fix that?" I said, puzzled. "How?" Momoko turned around and broke into a run. "Hey!" I said, calling after her as she began to laugh for some reason, "wait up!" * "Mom, I'm going to be home late today. I'm visiting a friend because she invited me over, and -- " My mom was the kind of mom who still hadn't established that you didn't need to shout over the phone if you wanted someone to hear you. "She? A girl invited you?" she said, a little too loudly. I winced and pulled the phone away from my ear. "My little boy is finally growing up! You've gone and snagged yourself a girlfriend, haven't you?" "No, not exactly ... " I said. I looked around the brick wall and through the open gate. Momoko was already unlocking the front door. "I gotta go, bye mom!" I said, quickly. "Wait -- " I ended the call with a resounding beep. "Hey, what are you doing out here?" said Momoko. I nearly jumped in surprise. Momoko was standing right in front of me. "N-nothing. A friend called," I said. "Well, come inside," she said. I followed Momoko down the path through their small front garden. There was a small pond with a sozu tipping back and forth, ringing with an ominous wooden tap. At the door, I finally stepped inside, and kicked off my shoes. Momoko's family had decorated their house very well. I could tell they were much better paid than most -- the whole neighborhood seemed to be similarly well off. Almost all the rooms in Momoko's house were Western- styled with large windows, save for a small Japanese tea room laid out with tatami mats, overlooking the side garden. I wondered what Momoko would look like in a kimono while serving me tea. "Come on, let's go to my room," said Momoko. Momoko took my hand and dragged me into the hallway. "Where are your parents?" I said. "They're out," she said, looking around the living room darkly, "it's just you and me." There were several doors in the hallway, and only two were labeled. We were going so fast that I missed the label on first one. The nameplate on the second door had Momoko's name on it, also decorated with hearts and flowers. "Come in," said Momoko. I held my breath as I stepped inside. I think I had been expecting a medieval torture machine in the center of the room. Instead, what I saw was completely and totally ordinary: no medieval torture machine -- just a Western-styled bedroom with floorboards, a red rug, pink wallpaper, and stuffed animals sitting on a frilly quilted single-bed. Momoko sat down on the bed. "Okay Keita," said Momoko, clapping her hands together. "You said that you liked me, right?" Straight to business, then. "Uh -- I guess," I said. "You guess?" "I mean, I do!" I said, decidedly. "I do like you. I've liked you ever since you saved our club." "Is that the reason why you like me?" she said. "Well, yeah ... I mean, you're also smart, and pretty, and -- " Momoko giggled. "It's better than any other reason I've ever gotten. Forget all that stuff about me being smart or pretty," she said. I blushed. "You know, most of the time I'm only doing stuff like that because it makes Ayane angry. Sometimes, she really rubs me the wrong way. She takes being vice president too seriously. I think that's why I was picked to be student council president -- we balance each other out," said Momoko. "Oh." " ... but I saw the way you looked at me, begging for me to save your club with just your eyes. You're really good at that, you know." Momoko grinned. I blushed again. "Y-you saw that?" I said. "How could I not?" she said. "I was trying not to be too obvious." "Well, it works. You should do it more often." "I try not to ... it isn't right," I said. Momoko kept grinning. "Look, here's the thing. You know that I only like cute things, right?" she said. "Cute ... things ... ?" I said. "Right. Until now, I've rejected everyone who ever asked me a date on the grounds that they just weren't cute enough," she said. "I mean, the girls were all pretty -- but they didn't have a certain ... " -- she paused for a moment -- "moe quality that I'm looking for." "I-I don't understand. Why did you bring me here? I'm not cute. You said it yourself. I don't think I'm cute either," I said. Momoko stood up. I flinched involuntarily. She stepped forward and placed both her hands on my shoulders. This only served to highlight our differences in height. I felt wholly inadequate. "Let me show you something," said Momoko. Momoko pulled out her cell phone. She showed me her photo gallery. "What do you see?" said Momoko. Momoko had brought up a photo of me on her cell phone. "M-my face," I said. "Wait -- you really did take my picture, didn't you?" "You noticed?" said Momoko. "I don't get it. I'm nobody special. All I see is a clumsy, cowardly boy." "That's not what I see," said Momoko. "Keita, when I see you, I see potential." "Potential?" I said, a little confused. Slowly, I allowed my brain to process what I thought she was getting at. "You're saying that I'm not cute enough, but that I could be?" "Exactly. You are cute enough. You're just waiting for a little makeover, that's all," she said. Oh no. I did not like where this was going. "Makeover? Are you saying you want to make me all pretty -- like a boy band model?" I said. "Not quite." Momoko put down her cellphone and walked over to her wardrobe. "I may not have remembered your name, but I never forget a pretty face. You may not believe it, but I've been waiting for you to talk to me all this time," she said. Momoko slid the wardrobe open in one fluid motion. She reached inside to retrieve something attached to a coat-hanger. When she pulled it out, I saw that it was white, frilly, and rather short -- a sun dress. "Keita," she said, deadly serious, "I want you to put this on." "W-what?" I said, weakly. "Come on, it'll be fun. I promise," she said. I took one step back. "I-I can't, I'm not a cross-dresser ... " Momoko jiggled the coat-hanger in her hand. She was impatient. "Just put it on," she said. "Are you serious?" I said. "Are you?" she said. "This could be you and me, together on a date. The only condition is that you have to put on this dress." "You'll go out with me?" "Maybe," she said, "depends on how good you look in it." "Uh ... that's a huge 'depends'," I said. "Why not give it a try? You won't know until you do," said Momoko. Sadly, Momoko made a very convincing case. I pictured a date at a fancy restaurant, where I was wearing the dress, and I looked like a complete clown. The couples at the other tables -- all of them people from my class, for some reason -- were laughing at me. Some of the other boys in my class were going through puberty. I wasn't one of them. My voice had not dropped yet and I sometimes heard the occasional comment that I looked like a girl. If I could use that to my advantage, maybe I really did have a shot with Momoko. Besides, it wasn't like I hadn't ever done it before. When I was a kid, mom would dress me up in my sister's clothes and pretend we were twin sisters. We'd go to the playground and confuse the other kids by pretending to be each other. The only things that set us apart were our gender and our personalities. That was back then, when I was a kid. Most kids could probably go either way depending on their haircut or clothes. A grade school boy with sufficiently long hair could be mistaken for a girl. A grade school girl with short hair who doesn't like skirts could easily be mistaken for a boy. It wasn't the same situation as now. I was thirteen -- nearly fourteen -- and I didn't know if I would be able to cross-dress convincingly again. But then again, I had a shot with Momoko Muramiya. I snatched the coat- hanger out of her hand. "Fine. I'll do it," I said. Momoko perked up immediately. "Great!" she said, "now strip down and put this on first!" She held out a white floral bra and a matching set of panties. "Oh, hell no!" I said, stopping dead in my tracks and turning heel, "I've changed my mind!" "It's too late, you already said yes!" she said. Momoko laughed maniacally and lunged for my waist. I barely managed to avoid her tackle by getting behind her, but that meant that Momoko was blocking the door. I had no escape save for a solitary window. I turned around and started rummaging under the curtains for the lock, but I couldn't find anything. "I've got you now!" There was nowhere to go. I was cornered. Momoko was taller than me and stronger than she looked. She picked me up, tossed me onto the bed and started unbuttoning my jacket. She stripped off my gakuran school uniform piece by piece -- even my socks -- until I was down to my boxer briefs, blushing. She was so close to removing them when I had to stop her. "W-wait, I'll do it myself!" I said. "Changed your mind?" said Momoko. "It's just embarrassing, okay? I said, with tears in my eyes. "Give me some privacy." "Sure," said Momoko. "I'll go outside. You've got five minutes to work out how a bra hook works, then I'm coming in whether you like it or not!" Momoko shut herself out of the room. I could hear her laughing in the hallway. Momoko left the bra, panties and dress all lying on the bed. Honestly, I was pretty terrified at the idea of wearing panties. Even when I was a kid and mom dressed me up, I just wore my usual boy briefs underneath. I didn't have much time to get dressed, so I hurried. It was easier just to resign myself to my fate. I reasoned that putting on the panties wasn't that much different from putting on a pair of briefs. They were both about the same shape, right? The panties were just a lot ... less. I only had to put them through one leg, and then the other, which was easier said than done. I winced as I pulled the panties up my legs and adjusted them. It did not feel right at all. They were surprisingly comfortable, fit snugly, and were very soft and smooth. I felt like a pervert more than anything else. That left one half done, so it was time to move on. I almost had no idea what to do with the bra. I picked it up, and immediately noticed that soft foam padded the inside. I tried to loop the bra around my chest and back, but I couldn't bend my arms far enough to work the clasp. Momoko burst into the room in the first two minutes. She interrupted me when I thought I had nearly worked out the bra clasp. She strode over and took charge. "This is how you do it," she said. She hooked the bra into place. "Easy for you to say. You're standing behind me," I said. "Girls have to do this all the time," said Momoko. "Think of it as practice. One day -- assuming you ever get to the point -- you'll need to know how to unhook a girl's bra." I flushed red. Why did she have to bring something like that up? Momoko pushed me towards the mirror. I shut my eyes. I didn't want to see what I looked like in a bra and panties -- heck, I probably had a good idea of what a boy would look like in a bra and panties: just plain weird. Momoko forced my eyes open with her fingers. "It's not so bad," said Momoko. The bra drew my attention. The padding really added to the illusion of a young woman in the middle of her, uh, development phase. "You look good. It helps that you're thin, you've got smooth skin, and you're shorter than even most of the juniors," said Momoko. "I was right, you really do have potential." "Great," I said, "why does that not make me feel any better?" Momoko released her grip on my eyelids. She brought her fingers down to my mouth and used them to force me to smile. "There. Much better. No more frowns. All you need now is a wig and dress," said Momoko. "Great," I said, but with my mouth pitched open by her fingers, it sounded like baby talk. Momoko let go of my face and gestured towards the sun dress. It was still lying on her bed. "Go on," she said. I picked it up and slid the dress out of the coat-hanger. It was plain white and looked a little too short. It was too girly. Much too girly. There was no way I could wear it. I looked back at Momoko, but she simply nodded. I wanted to back out. "Try it on," said Momoko. I was standing in the middle of Momoko's room, wearing women's underwear, with my black gakuran and white boxer-briefs piled at my feet. I had come too far to turn back. I swallowed my (admittedly small amount) of pride and threw the dress over my head. I instantly got lost in a sea of white fabric, and I couldn't see anything. "Help me! I'm stuck!" I said. Momoko laughed and watched me struggle. "This isn't funny! I'm going to suffocate!" I felt Momoko's hands grab the dress and pull it down over my head. She helped my arms through the straps. When she let go, the dress slowly drifted into position. It reached just down to my thighs, but I tried not to think about it. "Now all you need is a wig," said Momoko. Momoko wrenched open the door and disappeared into the hallway. I fiddled anxiously. I was curious to know what I looked like with the dress on, but a little scared that it wouldn't look complete without the wig. I stepped in front of the mirror. I could sort of see it happening. Someone mistaking me for a girl, that is. The only thing stopping it was that my hair was just a little too short. Seeing my face on top of a body wearing a sun dress had a very jarring effect. I picked up the hem of the dress and lifted it to my waist, and then I let it go. It drifted down slowly, much like a flower petal. The dress looked so delicate, as if ready to fall apart if I did anything other than stand and walk. Wearing it brought out just a little nostalgia for those old days when I wore things like this with my sister. Momoko startled me when she returned. I let go of the dress promptly and tried to act normal. Momoko had come back carrying a long, light-brown wig. "I couldn't find anything that's your color, but I think this would look nice," she said. "Do I want to know where you got this wig from?" "Not really," she said. "It's not mine, so don't tell." Momoko was not kind enough to put the wig on my head in the right direction. She laughed. I grabbed the wig and turned it around so that I could actually see. The wig reached down to bra-strap length, and the feeling of it cascading down my upper back was something I hadn't ever felt before. "I think the twin-tails look would suit you perfectly," said Momoko. "Fine," I said. Momoko reached into her drawer and retrieved a comb. She started brushing the wig, carefully detangling the occasional kink until the wig was neat and tidy. Then, with the aid of the brush, she pulled the sides of the wig up into tails. She tied them up with two black ribbons. Then, she stood back to admire her work. "There's a hat that goes with this dress. I'll have to get it for you later, if I can find it," said Momoko. "A hat and twin-tails? Won't that be annoying?" I said. "Not if I do it right," said Momoko. She clapped her hands together. "Okay, now for your makeup!" "Do we have to?" I said. "A girl has to look her best," she said, "now sit down." Momoko gestured towards a stool in front of her vanity table. I sat down. "You have to keep your legs closed, otherwise boys can see your panties," said Momoko. When I looked down, I saw that I had my legs open. I was sitting like a typical boy. I closed them quickly, until my knees were touching. Momoko bent down to whisper into my ear. "A girl isn't supposed to show her precious place. You wouldn't want them to see that, would you?" said Momoko. I went red, and murmured a quick "no". "Good. We'll make this quick. You won't need much makeup anyway -- you're pretty enough as it is." "Thanks. I don't have a complex about my girly face," I said. "Here, moisturize your face," said Momoko. She handed me a tube of moisturizer. "Get to it," she said. I sighed. This was going to be more trouble than it was worth. Slowly, I applied her moisturizer to my face. Once Momoko thought I had done enough, she snatched the tube right out of my hands. "Let's put a little blush on your face. I think it would suit you," said Momoko. "What do you think?" "I think it's a complete waste of time. This is so embarrassing that I'm going to be blushing anyway," I said. Momoko smirked. "I can see that. You're already blushing. That gives me a good reference for what your cheeks look like when they're red, so I can copy that color," said Momoko. Momoko set down several small clamshell containers on the table. She opened each one, examining the colors of each, before settling on a nice pink one. To be honest, they were all pink, and they all looked to be the same shade. "This color will suit you fine," she said. "Nothing pink will ever suit me," I said. Momoko started applying the blush without saying another word. The brush she used tickled my face. "You have really nice eyes. I would like to try liquid eyeliner, but since you're just starting out I think it's better if we only stick to basics. Plus, if you freak out I'll get it in your eye and that would really sting," said Momoko. "Great. I have no idea what any of that meant, but I'm glad you care about my personal wellbeing," I said. "Hold still," said Momoko. I had to resist the instinct to shut my eyes when I seemed like Momoko was going to poke them with a pencil. When she finished applying the eyeliner pencil, she capped it off and set it down on the table. "Your eyes really stand out now. It's like they're sparkling." "Great. My eyes are sparkling. Excuse me if I don't feel totally elated," I said. "We're not done yet, though. You'll need mascara to really make them stand out," said Momoko. Momoko uncapped a black lipstick-shaped container, revealing a small thin brush inside. She used the brush to apply the mascara to my eyelashes, which tickled and triggered the instinct to shut my eyes again. "Wanna paint your nails?" said Momoko, idly. "Hell no!" I said. "I don't want anything that doesn't wash off easily." "You're no fun," said Momoko. "We can just use remover later." "Absolutely not." Momoko finished applying mascara to my eyelashes and stepped back to admire her work. "You look great already," she said. She capped off the mascara and dropped it into my lap. "It's yours," she said. "What? Why?" I said. "How else are you going to start down the path of becoming a trap?" said Momoko. "I'm not -- " "Here, keep the eyeliner pencil too." She dropped the pencil into my lap. "I'm not taking all this with me," I said. "Well, I'm not keeping it," said Momoko, brightly. I sighed. "All you need now is something for your lips," said Momoko. Momoko had a few tubes of lipstick, but settled on a light one. "It's better if we keep the lipstick subtle, since we really made your eyes stand out," said Momoko. "Is that a thing?" I said. "Yes. It's either one or the other -- both makes you look overdone," said Momoko. "I wouldn't want that," I said. Momoko dropped the lipstick into my lap. "Do I have to keep everything?" I said. "Yep. All of this stuff is new. I took it from my mom's room while I was looking for that wig you're wearing. She won't notice, since she has a ton of makeup anyway," she said. I had another witty retort lined up, but then the door swung open quite suddenly. I looked aside and peered into the open door frame. A cute grade school girl wearing a pink striped shirt and a black skirt was standing at the doorway. Her face was totally deadpan. I thought for a moment that she instantly knew I was a boy. She gave me an odd look, but ultimately ignored me. "Hey sis, where did you put my red checkered skirt?" said the girl. "It's not in the top drawer?" said Momoko. "No," said the girl. "Look in the laundry, then," said Momoko. "Okay," said the girl. She was about to leave the room when Momoko remembered something and quickly called out to her. "Oh, do you have any idea where I put the sun hat that goes along with this dress?" said Momoko. She pointed to the dress I was wearing. "It's in my room," said the girl, "I wanted to try it but it's too big for my head." "Can you get it for me?" said Momoko. "No way," said the girl. "You're the worst little sister ever." The girl stuck her tongue out at Momoko and said "whatever." Then, she pointed at me, and said, "is that a boy, or is it actually a girl this time?" "Who, this?" said Momoko, looking at the girl and pointing at me, "he's a boy." "Figures," said the girl. "Do you ever dress people up in the clothes of their actual gender?" "You're one to talk," said Momoko, rather cryptically. "Good point," said the girl. "At least he's not ugly this time." The girl left. She wasn't even courteous enough to close the door behind her. Momoko shut the door quietly. She smiled apologetically at me. "I thought you said no one was home!" I said. "I totally forgot!" said Momoko. "Sorry!" "It's okay," I said, sighing, "that was just the death of what little dignity I had left -- which is to say, none. So, was that your little sister?" "Little brother," said Momoko. I sat up. "That was your little brother?!" "Yeah. He's in grade school. He tricks the boys into giving him their lunch money by promising to be their girlfriend. They all think he's a girl," she said. "You're kidding, right?" "Why would I be kidding?" If Momoko was like this, and her little brother was a cross-dresser, what was the rest of the family like? I shuddered to think about it. "Done," said Momoko. I looked into the mirror. I thought at first that the mirror was broken. It wasn't reflecting me face -- instead, all I saw was the face of a cute girl with brown hair wearing a white sun dress. That girl wasn't me. It couldn't be me, surely? "That's me, isn't it?" I said, after a moment. "Yup. That's you," said Momoko. I stood up. "That's me," I said. I was simply stating a fact. I twirled on the spot. My actions disconnected from the girl in the mirror's. It was like I didn't have a body anymore -- I was simply puppeteering someone else's. "I don't get it," I said. "What's there not to get?" said Momoko. "There's no way that could be me. I'm a boy -- I can't be that pretty," I said. "You are that pretty, Keita. Hasn't anyone ever told you that before?" said Momoko. "It doesn't feel like me. I look like a girl," I said. I started to pose. Momoko smirked. "Enjoying yourself?" she said. I had never noticed how small my hands were before. I posed them into double peace signs. "Are you still with me?" said Momoko. I picked up a hairbrush on Momoko's vanity table and held it in front of my mouth like a microphone. Then, I bent the fingers on my other hand into an 'I love you' sign and said, "Kira!" "Earth to Keita!" I snapped out of a trance. It finally sank it exactly what I was seeing. "That's definitely me, isn't it?" I said. I watched the girl's eyes widen in the mirror. "Oh my god. What have you done to me?!" "I've unlocked your true potential!" said Momoko. "Now come on, we're going on a date!" * Did Momoko know how anticlimactic kicking me out of her room was right after boldly announcing that we were going on a date? I waited outside so that Momoko could get dressed. I didn't dare wander too far from the door. It was too late to make a run for it anyway; my uniform was locked away in Momoko's room and I'd have to go home in this getup. Momoko stepped out to show off a modest white blouse, a dark skirt, and an attractive pair of black leggings. I tried not to stare. Before leaving, I went into Momoko's room and retrieved my wallet and phone from the pockets of my uniform pants. "Where can I put these?" I said to Momoko. Momoko looked at me for a moment. Then, she pulled at the neckline of her blouse and pointed down her shirt. "I can't do that!" I said. Momoko shrugged. "It's what I do," she said. "Well excuse me, but I don't have breasts!" I said. "You're right, that is a problem. I'll let you borrow one of my handbags," she said. Momoko rifled through her wardrobe and picked out the girliest handbag she had. It was colored pastel pink and had a big red heart sewn onto the side. "You don't actually use that, right?" I said. "Nah, this is what I used when I was in elementary school. It's a little too kiddy for me now, but I think it suits you fine," she said. "Great. That's insulting." "It's true." Momoko opened the bag and poured all the makeup supplies she used on me into it. "No -- Momoko, I'm not going to keep those," I said. "Just in case," said Momoko. I sighed. "Fine. Let's go," I said. Out in the hallway, we passed by Momoko's little brother's room. The door was open and there was nobody inside, so Momoko crept in quietly, nabbed the white, wide-brimmed sun hat, and stepped out. She handed it to me and told me to wear it. I was all too ready to oblige if it meant I could hide my face by looking down. We went past the living room and straight to the entrance. Momoko checked the shoe rack for a pair of sandals she thought would fit me, and found them on the bottom shelf. She handed them to me and told me that they matched the rest of my outfit. I knelt down and tried to put them on. Nervous as I was, I kept fumbling the heel strap, which seemed to be getting a little old and loose. "Are you doing this on purpose?" said Momoko. "No, I'm not," I said. "Really." Momoko tapped her foot impatiently. Eventually, I managed to work the heel strap. I stood up. The sandals seemed to fit. They weren't loose, nor tight. I guess Momoko and I had similar shoe size. "Cool," said Momoko. "If we have the same shoe size you can borrow my shoes." "And if I don't want to borrow your shoes?" I said. "Then you can go barefoot. Or buy your own shoes." Momoko opened the door and shoved me out of the house. She closed the door behind her and locked it with the key. Then, she grabbed my hand and led me away from the house. Despite my protests, Momoko single- handedly dragged me all the way out onto the path. The breeze underneath my dress was uncomfortable. It was embarrassing to know that we were getting further and further away from my clothes, lying in a pile in Momoko's bedroom. "Where are we going to go?" I said. "We're going on a little date into town," said Momoko. "I can't go out in public like this!" I said. "No one will know, as long as you don't use your real name." "Then what name should I use?" "You could use 'ko' instead of 'to'. Keiko is a pretty cute name, don't you think?" she said. "Yeah, nobody will ever figure that out," I said, sarcastically. "I don't know, then," said Momoko. "Figure something out. Make it fast, too. The train station isn't far from here." Momoko started walking. I jogged to catch up. There was a signpost at the intersection pointing to the train station. Momoko really wasn't kidding -- I could see the train station in the distance. I had to think fast. I racked my brains for alternatives to my name. I thought about the suffix 'ko' and how it was so commonly seen at the end of girly names, but it would be far too easy to go with that. I thought about alternative readings of the characters in my name. I remembered something, and blurted it out loud. "What about Kaori?" I said. "Where does that come from?" said Momoko. "It's the name my mom would have called me if I were born a girl. It's the characters in Keita read differently," I said. "Oh, I see," said Momoko. "Nice to meet you, Kaori-chan." "I already hate it," I said. Actually, I kind of liked that name. I wouldn't if my parents called me Kaori, had I been born a girl instead of a boy. It would even be spell it with the same characters. Unfortunately, I wasn't born a girl. After a short flight of stairs, we stepped on to the train station platform. There were only a handful of people nearby, but that didn't stop me from panicking at the thought that someone would discover my secret. "Can we go back? Please?" I said. "It's too late for that. Come on, it'll be fun," said Momoko, grinning. I could feel eyes on me, but I didn't know from where. I fell silent. "Isn't this dress a little too short?" I said. "It's fine, it looks good on you," said Momoko. "Everyone's staring at me. They can all tell I'm a boy, can't they?" I said. "Relax," said Momoko. "It's only the pervy train molesters that are looking at you. That just means you're cute." "I don't want to be stared at by pervy train molesters!" Momoko laughed. "You learn to live with it," she said. "Live with it!?" I said, dumbfounded, "I'm not going to be doing this very often, you know!" "Why not? Maybe you'll discover that you genuinely like it." Like it? I just felt perverted. There was no way I would ever do this again. I would even refuse to try to enjoy what was hopefully my very last experience with cross-dressing. Unfortunately, my body didn't want to reconcile with my brain, and decided to betray me. My heart raced. Big time. Truthfully, cross-dressing was a little exciting, but that was just a natural response to doing something crazy and out of line, right? Cross- dressing was one of those one-time things you would never intend to do again, unless you were really crazy. It was like bungee diving or parachuting ... or asking out girls that are way out of your league. A few minutes later, the train arrived. Momoko dragged me on board without so much as another word. We shuffled in alongside the rest of the people waiting at the station. The passenger car was full and there was no room to sit, so Momoko and I had to stand up in the middle of a crowd of people. Squeezing closely between so many people was very uncomfortable. I lowered my hat and waited quietly. Momoko started to hum a tune. I wanted to sink into the floor. Was it getting hot in the passenger car? I tugged at the neckline of my dress, trying to alleviate some of the heat that was building up around me. "Is it -- is it getting hot in here?" I said. "A little, I guess. Must be all the people," said Momoko. "I-it's really hot," I said. "You're not sick, are you?" she said. Momoko pushed my hat and the fringe of my hair up. She pressed her forehead against mine to check my temperature. I blushed. "You seem fine," she said. My heart was pounding right out of my chest. Knowing that all the people in this train car were either completely fooled by my disguise or already knew I was a boy and refused to say something was equal parts humiliating as it was exhilarating. I had no doubt that if I ever tried bungee jumping or parachuting, it wouldn't be nearly as exciting as this. "Must be just the excitement," said Momoko. "What?" I said. "Come on. You don't need to try to hide it. I can tell from here that you're about to have a heart attack," said Momoko. "I-I'm just scared," I said, quietly. "I don't want to be found out." Momoko grabbed my hand and squeezed it. "Relax. You look great. No one will ever know," said Momoko. "O-okay," I said. "Well, unless you accidentally flash your panties," said Momoko. Nothing happened for the next few minutes. I lulled myself into a false sense of security. It was uncomfortable standing up, swaying as the train turned, and I kept bumping into people. I was extremely self- conscious about physical contact; I must have thought that somehow people would find out instantly if they touched me. Something -- someone, rather -- brushed up behind me and grabbed my butt. I tried to turn around, but a fat guy in an undersized t-shirt and a lady in an office uniform tapping away at her cellphone had me locked into place. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be the victim of a public train groper. "Momoko," I said, desperately. I wasn't very loud. She didn't seem to have noticed. The groper reached down my leg and pulled up the hem of my dress just enough to touch my panties with his other hand. My body reacted automatically. I started breathing raggedly and I could feel my face heat up and turn red. This was so indecent, yet so exciting. Wait, did these bodily reactions mean that I was getting aroused!? I had to calm down. There was no way -- absolutely no way -- I was going to let this guy keep this up and eventually find out that I had an extra organ girls didn't. I breathed deeply, trying to slow down my heartbeat, but I think the groper mistook this for a moan. Damn it, it really did sound like a moan, too. I tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but I still couldn't move. The groper only took this as encouragement. "Momoko," I said, again. "Kei -- I mean, Kaori, what's up?" said Momoko. "I think I'm being molested," I said. Momoko looked alarmed. "Seriously?" she said. She leaned aside to get a look over my shoulder. "I see the guy; it's some creepy-looking salary man. Don't worry, I'll handle this." Momoko cupped her hands over her mouth and yelled; "hey everybody, there's a pervert on this train!" Momoko's shouting alerted the entire train car. Everyone began abruptly moving around. Some people gasped in surprise. Others began to chatter and spread rumors. Thankfully, the crowd's movements pushed me away from the reach of the groper before he could continue. If the groper had gotten any further, he'd have been in for a shock. I heard a loud slap. I turned around. The same lady in the office uniform who was pressing against me earlier was now between me and the groper; a disheveled middle-age balding office worker with spectacles askew, thick 5 o'clock shadow and a deep red handprint on his cheek. She had slapped him. The lady turned around and smiled at me weakly. "Are you okay?" she said, soothingly. "Sorry about that. I can't believe I work with that guy. He's such an ass. I hope he gets arrested." I made a small noise, but didn't talk. Momoko slapped me in the back. "Go on, say something," she said. I was somewhat confident in the fact that my voice hadn't dropped yet. I brought up the pitch of my voice above the baseline and tried my very best to sound like a girl. "I -- I'm f-fine, thank you," I said politely, though rather stiff. I almost called myself 'boku', a male pronoun. At the last second, I switched to the very girly 'atashi'. It was the first thing that came to mind. Momoko choked and nearly started laughing, but covered her mouth quickly. "Kaori doesn't talk much. She's a very delicate flower. I just hope she doesn't take it too badly," said Momoko. I could almost see her smirking as she looked away to hide it. "It was very brave of you to speak up," sa