Yuri's Endless Fashion Show
“This one looks like it’d suit you perfectly. Want to try it on?”
I took the dress hanging from her raised hand and held it up for a proper look. Pinching the shoulder straps between thumb and forefinger of both hands, I let it dangle the way it would on a hanger so I could see the whole thing at once.
This time it was a blue-toned one-piece. The decorations were sparse, but a cluster of what looked like gemstones formed a butterfly motif over the chest, giving it a clean little accent. Since we were in a private dressing room, there was no separate fitting booth. If you wanted to be technical about it, the entire dressing room was the fitting room. So I had no choice but to stand in front of the glass and slowly peel off the clothes I was already wearing, one piece at a time. Stripping down while Yuri stared straight at me felt embarrassing, but of course I was the only one getting flustered over nothing. I still carried the memories of having been a man, so part of me kept insisting I was undressing in front of the opposite sex—yet to Yuri I was simply a same-sex friend changing clothes.
I yanked the shirt over my head in one careless motion, then undid the button and zipper of my pants and kicked them off. Left in nothing but underwear, bare skin everywhere, I felt oddly exposed and incomplete. Yuri’s unblinking gaze made the embarrassment worse, so I shoved myself into the dress as fast as I could. Aside from one particular area, our builds were close enough that nothing pinched or pulled. Only that one spot felt a little roomy.
“See? This one looks great on you too! What do you think, El?”
Yuri spoke while watching me from in front of the mirror on the far wall. I glanced at my reflection and had to admit she was right—silver hair and a blue-toned dress somehow worked surprisingly well together.
…Honestly, it isn’t that silver hair pairs well with the dress. It’s just that this face pairs well with everything. I thought the same thing every time I looked in a mirror. If a piece of clothing ever failed to suit this face, the problem would be the clothes, not me. I could probably pull off a clown costume. And aside from that one slightly underwhelming spot, the figure was excellent too. Even that one place wasn’t actually small—it just looked modest next to Yuri or Celian.
Whether it was a side effect of the TS magic or simply how the spell worked, no amount of training ever showed as visible muscle. I could feel the strength increase, but outwardly there was only smooth skin. Back when I was a man I’d had enough definition to look decent—not bulging, but present. Now that I was in a woman’s body, the complete lack of it felt a little strange.
“…It looks good.”
I gave her my honest impression and turned back toward her. This was already the third outfit. I knew full well it wouldn’t end here. I’d learned from shopping with Celian just how long a girls’ fashion show could drag on.
“Okay! This one’s next!”
True to form, Yuri already had another dress in hand. “Brought over” wasn’t even the right phrase—she simply plucked the next one from the rack right beside us.
Another one-piece dress, though this one looked anything but practical. One glance told me it belonged at a social party and nowhere else. I slipped out of the blue dress and into the new one. It was more ornate than the last, yet it didn’t drown itself in frills or pointless ornamentation. Even with my male sensibilities I could look at it and think, Well… this much is fine. I’d heard some dresses required a corset, but this one didn’t seem to need one. Besides, it was just the two of us looking, and this body wasn’t the sort that required cinching. If it ever got to the point of needing a corset, I was out.
“Um… could you tie the strings for me?”
I’d gotten it on, but the laces at the back needed tightening so it wouldn’t slip. Being behind me made them awkward to manage alone. My body was flexible enough that I could have managed, but with someone right there ready to help there was no reason to struggle.
“Just a second.”
Yuri stepped behind me. I stood still, facing forward so I wouldn’t get in her way. Every time her fingers brushed my back—light, ticklish little touches—my body twitched on its own, but at least I managed not to make a sound. The lacing took longer than I expected; her fingers kept grazing my skin, and holding still was genuine work.
“There! All done!”
In the mirror stood a slender young woman. All I’d done was change clothes, yet the lively impression from a moment ago had vanished completely. Clothes really were wings—the old saying existed for a reason.
“…That’s enough, right?”
The dress was the kind that would make swinging a sword or even moving freely a nightmare, so in a different way from something revealing it made me want it off as soon as possible. I tried to get her permission to change back, but no answer came. In the mirror, Yuri was staring at me through the glass, unblinking.
“Yuri?”
I turned halfway around to face her. The skirt of the dress swayed gently with the motion.
“Y-yeah!”
“This one doesn’t work after all, does it? I wasn’t feeling it either.”
“N-no! It’s just… the atmosphere is so different from usual… I don’t mean weird! I mean… you’re too pretty! Of course you’re always pretty, but…”
For some reason Yuri started babbling. I had no idea why, but this was my chance. While she was still flustered I could end the fashion show right here. I reached behind myself, yanked the laces free in one quick pull, and let the dress fall away. Then I stretched a hand toward the clothes I’d arrived in.
Or rather, I tried to.
“El?”
“Uh… yeah?”
“Why that outfit?”
“Well, I mean… we’ve tried on plenty already, haven’t we…? Haha… ha…”
The instant my fingers reached for my original clothes, Yuri’s hand shot out and caught my wrist. Her grip wasn’t strong—I could have shaken it off easily—yet something in the way she held me, some unnameable pressure or atmosphere, set every one of my senses screaming warnings. Stay still. Don’t move. I couldn’t ignore them.
“El?”
Yuri smiled sweetly at me.
“We’ve only tried four so far.”
“…Only four?”
Instead of releasing my wrist, she used her free hand to pick up the academy uniform I’d come in wearing.
“Here—I’ll hold onto this for you. Now let’s try the next one, okay?”
The sense of déjà vu had to be my imagination. Yeah. Just my imagination.
In the end it took several more changes before the ordeal finally finished. And Yuri didn’t stop at dressing me—she forced every outfit I’d worn into my arms. By the time I noticed, the servants acting on her orders had already carried all of them into my own dressing room. Even the simple everyday clothes I was wearing now were the very first ones she’d put on me earlier.
“I’ll come by your room a little later, then.”
Dinner with Marquis Craig was almost upon us. Leaving Yuri to change into something more comfortable, I headed back to my room.
When I stepped into my dressing room, the once-empty space now held a respectable collection of the clothes I’d just received. My original academy uniform hung off to one side as well.
“Huh?”
Something about the uniform looked wrong. Or rather, it looked too right. The one I’d been wearing every day in place of casual clothes had already developed a fair number of worn spots after only a single semester. The uniform hanging in front of me, though, was in conspicuously better condition—clearly different from mine.
“What the…?”
I was still turning the puzzle over in my head when a knock sounded through the room. Magic must have been worked into the walls; even from inside the dressing room the sound came through crisp and clear.
“Ready to go?”
I set the uniform down and stepped out. Yuri had already changed into the comfortable clothes she often wore around the house. As I followed her toward the mansion’s dining hall I finally asked the question that had been nagging me.
“Hey, Yuri? That uniform they put in my room earlier… it didn’t look like mine.”
“Ah, sorry. One of the maids accidentally tore it while moving the clothes, so I had her leave one of mine instead…”
She spoke as if she’d already known I’d notice. They’d been carrying armfuls of garments; snagging something on a protruding corner and ripping it was entirely plausible. Still—not a brand-new replacement, but one of Yuri’s own used uniforms…
“Is it weird because it’s one I used to wear…? Should I get you a new one instead?”
“No! You don’t have to. If anything, it’s in way better shape than mine ever was.”
If secondhand clothes had bothered me, I should have refused the rest of her wardrobe from the start. Of course, she hadn’t exactly given me the chance—she’d simply shoved everything into my arms. And after accepting so much already, I wasn’t shameless enough to demand something brand-new.
“Oh! And please don’t say anything to that maid. She was just doing her job—anyone can make a mistake.”
“Yeah. Don’t worry. I won’t say a word. If anything…”
“If anything?”
“Ah, never mind!”
I’d brought it up because I was worried the maid who’d moved my clothes might get punished, but thankfully Yuri didn’t seem inclined to discipline her at all.
Still… the other clothes were fine for occasional wear, but knowing I’d be putting on Yuri’s uniform every single school day left me feeling strangely embarrassed—and more than a little complicated.