Gate Break

Every board member's avatar turned pure white. Across the room, a timer flared to life on the enormous screen, and beside it a second window bloomed to tally the results.

A flawless white avatar overlaid the body of Board Member No. 17. He pressed Aye without a second's hesitation; the projection shifted to green.

That single vote lit the fuse. One after another the permanent directors' avatars began to change.

Green. Red. Red. Green. Green…

When the one-minute timer on the big screen hit zero, the chamber was a sea of scarlet and emerald light.

The great screen that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had lit the dark chamber went black. Only the soft glow of the remaining avatars lingered in the sealed room. Board Member No. 17 was the first to rise.

"I'll take my leave, then. The Reality Interferer will be delivered to Board Member No. 5 before the day is out."

With that final message the avatars crowding the long table winked out one by one. When Board Member No. 17 stood, the chamber sank into absolute darkness.

A few days later the Reality Interferer arrived in a secluded underground facility beneath the Vatican.

The machine, shaped unnervingly like a car engine, began thrashing its pistons and running wild of its own accord.

Three days passed.

I had never once in my life fretted over clothes.

It wasn't because I was rich or came from a well-off family. There simply had never been room to think about such things.

In the labs we never received ordinary clothes; everyone lived in the same white lab coats and bare legs. The Siberian front was no different. On that frozen hellscape the only options were military fatigues or winter gear. Nothing else existed.

Even after everything ended and I returned to my tiny room, nothing really changed. Back then I no longer had a reason to keep living, so I just threw on whatever was nearest.

If you opened my closet now you'd be lucky to find five outfits. Clothes only needed to cover the body, so I rotated the same one or two pieces forever.

"Ah—no, wait… I already have plenty of clothes, I'm fine…?"

"Really? Shall I ask Sister Maria to confirm that?"

There was no rebuttal against the bright smile Clara wore while waving her phone. Maria would never stop Clara from buying me clothes; she'd only encourage her.

So I tried a different angle of persuasion.

"Hold on a second. Is it really okay for a Saintess to cling to me and wander around outside?"

"Ah, that would not be okay."

"Then maybe we should just head back—"

"That reminds me—I forgot to put on my disguise. One moment?"

Clara took a few steps back into an alley out of sight, then snapped her fingers. Her spring-pink hair flashed silver in an instant.

The shape of her eyes, the color of her irises, even the fine contours of her face shifted as if by magic. Standing before me now was a complete stranger: blue eyes and a faintly sharp, almost prickly gaze.

"How do I look, Unnie? Does it suit me?"

It wasn't only her appearance that had changed.

Her whole demeanor had brightened—an energetic bounce, a cute yet lively high-pitched voice, even the way she stepped and clasped both hands behind her back while leaning in to ask questions. At this point I could have believed she was an entirely different person. Even my sharp instincts had wavered for a heartbeat.

A disguise crafted with this much care made refusal impossible.

She had altered every tiny detail for the sake of the disguise…

I knew how hard it was to tweak speech patterns, gestures, and little habits just so. How long must she have been looking forward to this?

After putting in all that work and getting her hopes up, I couldn't disappoint a girl younger than me.

"Well? I matched it to you on purpose."

"Haa… fine. Do whatever you want…"

Half in resignation I let Clara drag me into the clothing store.

Even so, there were lines I absolutely would not cross. Floaty dresses, anything too revealing, and—above all—skirts that left the space between my legs feeling empty. Those were the enemy.

Exactly the sort of things Clara was currently holding out to me.

"No."

"Eh?"

"Skirts are a hard no. Anything that shows collarbones, and anything overly feminine."

"Eeeeh…?"

Whether or not question marks were spinning above Clara's head, I took a firm step back and made my resistance crystal clear.

I had no intention of claiming I was still a man at this point.

I had been reborn into a little girl's body, and the experiments had long since shattered the aggressively masculine personality I once had. On the battlefield I'd been the one nestling into my sister's arms and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠acting spoiled; I wasn't about to reverse course now.

But even so… an off-shoulder dress was simply too much!

That was the kind of thing real girls wore. To show off their femininity. To flaunt how pretty they were.

What? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠You're going to bring up the time I deliberately showed collarbone in a big T-shirt on stream?

That was just for the broadcast. And there had been so many things I was grateful for that I'd wanted to repay them somehow.

Besides, I treated it like cosplay! Even people who cosplay at anime conventions would freak out if you told them to wear those outfits every day.

"…Anyway, no. Absolutely not."

"Hiiing…"

"Faking disappointment won't work either, you know?"

I made my voice deliberately cold. If I didn't cut it off cleanly she would just keep pushing, so I shook my head and added,

"Maybe it's because I've only ever worn men's clothes my whole life… I just can't get used to women's clothes. Pants and suits feel a lot more comfortable."

"Ah, so that was it?"

Clara's drooping voice brightened again. Color returned to her face as she scurried back, hung the dress in its place, and seized my wrist.

"Then let's go look for things you actually like? I'm not very familiar with that style myself."

"Well… sure."

At that point I thought I'd managed to dodge the worst of it.

Skirts and dresses were out of the question, but pants—even women's pants—I could wear without much resistance.

The real crisis, however, arrived after we had finished picking clothes.

"Come to think of it, Unnie, do you even know your own size?"

"Me?"

Hmm…

In the military I had more or less lived in medium-sized fatigues. Finding anything that actually fit on the poorly supplied Siberian front lines had been nearly impossible.

Everyone lived that way, so I never felt particularly out of place.

Even after discharge nothing much changed. Undershirts were still the military issue. Underwear too. Outerwear… I never went outside, so I never needed any. The clothes I was wearing right now were army surplus as well.

"Oh my, you don't know?"

"I… guess I don't? Back in the army I just threw on medium and called it a day."

"Hmm-hmm~♪"

A dangerous glint appeared in her eyes. Somehow a measuring tape had already materialized in Clara's hands, and she began herding me toward the fitting rooms.

Wait—when did she even bring a measuring tape? And someone at my level can eyeball sizes just fine, you know? Hello?

"In that case I have no choice but to measure you myself, right?"

"Could you maybe fix those spinning eyes of yours first, Clara…?"

"Hehe, better me than a complete stranger, right? Knowing your personality, you'd be mortified if some random person did that to you."

"You're not wrong, but that goes for you too, you know?!"

So I grabbed Clara and yanked her straight into a fitting room. I was not bold enough to blurt out sensitive body measurements in front of other people.

"Uwaah!?"

"I can tell this much just by looking. Height 155, weight 53… do you need waist and bust too?"

"Hehe…"

Watching Clara laugh awkwardly made me want to give her a solid knuckle to the head. I barely restrained the urge and muttered,

"Sheesh, you perverted little Saintess…"

"I'll take that as a compliment?"

She was years younger than me yet acted so shameless. Ever since she started showing her face here and there as a Saintess, her personality had shifted quite a bit.

Not in a bad way… just… a strange feeling, somehow.

"So, Unnie?"

"Ah."

Clara's voice yanked my wandering thoughts back on track. In the already cramped space she took another step closer and smiled faintly.

"You can keep going with what you were saying. No need to hold back."

"Haha, well, you see…?"

Fortunately I never had to answer that question.

Before the words could leave my mouth, a blaring alarm exploded through the air.