How Am I Supposed to Wear This...

"Did you sleep well? You're pretty today, too."

"Yes, I slept well. And you?"

"Same here."

Their conversations had grown quite natural by now — Kyle and Sera.

It had been a week since Sera stopped brushing off Kyle's compliments. She no longer found his praise awkward. If anything, she'd feel hollow going a day without it.

"Come on, let's go ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eat."

Sera tugged at him, eager to have breakfast together. Sharing a life had become so natural that she no longer pushed him away. She treated him with an easy familiarity now, leaning on his presence without even realizing it. A week of living side by side had made their routine comfortable — familiar, even.

Kyle and Sera stepped out into the living room and headed for the kitchen. Tucked in one corner was a small service elevator — a dumbwaiter. Kyle opened it and checked the two meal trays waiting inside.

The food had been prepared in Guild Ares's cafeteria. Kyle had always found cooking a chore, so he'd had meals sent up to his room every morning. He'd been perfectly content with that arrangement — but now, the thought of cooking together with her didn't seem so bad. He handed Sera a tray from the elevator.

"Enjoy."

"Thank you. You too."

She accepted the tray and smiled as she returned the greeting. Being together had become the most natural thing in the world.

"You want me to wear this?"

Inside Guild Ares's equipment room, Sera stared at Kyle's gift in open dismay.

The garment was fashioned from thin, yielding cloth as white as fresh snow. The top left the upper swell of her chest bare. The bottoms were slashed open at the sides, exposing the full curve of her hips, while a long panel of fabric hung between her thighs and over her backside, trailing all the way to her ankles — the only concession to modesty in the entire design.

"Absolutely not."

Sera shook her head, her refusal firm. For someone who still carried a man's sense of self, an outfit this feminine was out of the question.

"Why not? It's pretty. The options are excellent, too."

"That's correct. I take pride in saying this is the finest equipment we could craft from the materials of the dragon the Guildmaster slew last time."

Kyle questioned her refusal, listing the outfit's virtues. At his cue, the staff member beside them launched into an introduction of the materials and the piece's value, then recited the options.

Sera wavered at the effects. Then she caught herself, covering her flushed face with one hand.

"How am I supposed to wear something this embarrassing..."

"What's there to be embarrassed about? You'll just look pretty. Try it on."

"..."

Kyle called her pretty and urged her to put it on, but Sera showed no sign of budging.

"Isn't there another design?"

After a long silence, she turned to the staff member. She wanted something that would actually cover her body.

"I'm sorry, but we've already used up all the materials. This design was made to draw out the materials' performance to the fullest."

"Ah..."

Sera let out a small, defeated sound. In truth, they could have made it in a different design — but Kyle had specifically instructed them to make it this way. Sera had no way of knowing that.

The design of the gift left her in an impossible position. She didn't want to wear it, but ignoring Kyle's sincerity felt just as hard.

Watching her struggle, Kyle spoke.

"Sera. Refusing a gift made with this much care isn't very polite, is it?"

Kyle had expected her to refuse. He'd pictured her shouting that she was a man, that she couldn't possibly wear it.

"I prepared this just for you, you know."

He put on a wounded expression and began to press. Invoking the manners instilled during her previous training, he prodded at her guilt.

"That's... that's true, but..."

The pressure was working. Sera conceded the point, but her voice trailed off.

Refusing a gift isn't polite... but isn't this more like forcing it on me than giving me a gift?

The thought surfaced — and she immediately scolded herself for calling Kyle's sincerity coercion.

It's a gift he made for me. Still, wearing this is...

The resistance lingered. Sera glanced at Kyle and looked up at him, pleading. It was the coy, wheedling look of a female asking to be understood. Kyle did not yield.

"I prepared this looking forward to seeing you wear it. Please don't dismiss my sincerity... that wouldn't be polite, would it?"

Getting Sera into this equipment was the first step toward shattering the masculinity still living inside her — so that she would never again even think of herself as a man.

Kyle pressed her again, his voice wistful and sad, asking her not to ignore the care he'd put into this.

"I didn't dismiss it, I swear!! It's just... it's just..."

Sera rushed to insist she hadn't ignored his sincerity. But she still couldn't bring herself to say she would accept the gift.

"If it's too embarrassing, just show it to me. Cover it with a coat, then take it off when it's just the two of us inside a dungeon."

Kyle offered a compromise as if he'd been waiting for this exact moment. Sera's ears perked up.

Just in front of Kyle? That... might be okay...

Over the past week, Kyle had grown close to her. If it was only in front of him, she thought she could wear his gift.

"Alright... I'll do that."

He was the one who put her at ease. And more than anything, it was his gift — so she would only wear it in front of him.

"Thank you."

"Kyle."

When Sera thanked him, he said his own name.

"Call me by my name from now on."

Until now, Sera had called him "you," or "Guildmaster." Given how close they'd already become, not using his name felt strange. Thinking that, she said his name and thanked him again.

"Thank you, Kyle. I'll wear it well."

"Good girl. Then let's have you try it on right now."

"What?"

The moment she thanked him, Kyle told her to put his gift on — now.

"If we want to check whether it's uncomfortable, or if there's any defect in the equipment, you need to put it on now."

What followed was perfectly reasonable.

"I-I'll check it by myself."

Sera tried to slip away, insisting she'd inspect ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it alone. But Kyle knew exactly how to persuade her.

"I bet you'd look really pretty if you showed me."

"Later. Later..."

"And as the person who gave the gift, I'd be happy."

"Ngh..."

In the end, Sera took the clothes and disappeared into the changing room.

"Kyle..."

Sera's voice was so small it seemed to crawl along the floor. Kyle turned toward the sound.

"Umm... is this enough?"

When he turned, a sensual woman filled his vision.

The thin white garment clung to Sera's body, revealing every curve without mercy. From the cutouts that began at her hips, the edges of her underwear peeked into view. Her snow-white legs were laid bare, tapering down to slender feet and cute little toes curled inward.

Kyle's gaze swept over her, and he felt a sharp, electric throb in his groin.

"S-stop looooking..."

As Kyle stared, Sera covered her chest with her left hand — and her hip with her right. Apparently the visible panty straps were too much. She crouched as small as she could, her face burning. But no amount of shrinking could escape the gaze that pinned every inch of her.

"You're beautiful, Sera. I could look at you forever."

Kyle praised her again, and her embarrassment seemed to ease, just a little. She'd worn this for him — it needed to please him. Seeing him genuinely delighted put her at ease.

"Thank you... but not forever."

"Thank you for wearing it, Sera. Good girl."

He smiled as he said it, and reached out to stroke her hair.

Stroke. Stroke.

"!!!"

No one had ever touched her hair before, and she startled — but the sensation was better than she'd imagined. Wordlessly, Sera let herself feel the hand drifting through her hair.

"Shall we sleep?"

Tonight, as always, I lay down in Kyle's bed.

I'd started sharing a bed for his sake, but lately I'd come to like this time myself.

I rolled onto my side, and his warmth pressed in from behind. A moment later, a firm arm wrapped tight around my stomach.

"Mmh..."

A pleasant pressure. Kyle's embrace, which had once been nothing but uncomfortable, now settled something deep inside me.

As I sank into that feeling, Kyle began patting my lower belly. Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat. I was drifting off to that familiar rhythm when something closed over my chest.

?

Before the unfamiliar sensation could even register as a question, something kneaded my breast. A shrill scream tore out of me. Both hands flew up and caught whatever it was.

Kyle's left hand.

"What are you doing?"

I peeled his hand off my chest and demanded an answer.

"Did you hate it?"

Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat.

Hate it? Of course I ha... well, maybe not quite hate. But still — why was he touching my chest?

"Not here."

This was a sexual part of the body you were supposed to keep covered. No matter how close Kyle and I had become, I couldn't allow this.

"Why not?"

Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat.

Was he really asking because he didn't know? No. I'd told him I was a man, but it seemed he still hadn't given up his feelings for me.

"You know why, Kyle. This is..."

I should have said it was a sensitive place you didn't touch unless you were lovers. But saying something like that in front of him was too embarrassing, so I swallowed the rest.

"Alright. I'm sorry, Sera."

"?"

Honestly, I'd expected him to push a little more. Instead, Kyle apologized and backed off cleanly.

"I don't want to do anything you don't like."

He didn't want anything I disliked, either.

"Hmph. Then shall we go back to sleep?"

For some reason, that made me feel good. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠brushed off what had just happened as nothing and settled in again.

"Good night, Sera."

Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat.

Kyle held Sera close, but his expression had gone dark.

He ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had seeped, slowly and carefully, into the fabric of her days. He'd decided they were close enough. He'd reached for her chest — and met resistance. There had been no choice but to apologize at once and pull his hand away.

If he failed to master the impulses coiled inside him, every scrap of trust he'd built would come apart.

She had given him other parts of her body. Her chest, it seemed, was still guarded.

Was there a better way? Kyle slipped from the bed without waking her, picked up his phone, and gave someone an order.

He was a man who, if there was something he wanted, obtained it. One way or another.