Common Sense Alteration

A month had passed since Lee Sirin joined Research Team 1.

In that time, Sirin had been hauled to the Decontamination Room ten times for failing to wear protective equipment, seven times for trying to feed snacks to containment subjects, and five times for calling them by name against orders.

She had undergone re-education fourteen times.

That blonde newcomer's memory was actually quite good. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠She scored perfect marks on every test, and once shown a machine, she handled it with skill. In non-hazardous work, she was faster than most.

The problem was… the moment anything dangerous came up, her common sense vanished. It was genuinely remarkable. Add in her talent for getting under people's skin, and she was the worst washout on record.

Sss, haah.

I leaned back in the Control Room chair and exhaled a plume of Mental Stabilization Stick smoke.

White smoke drifted past my goggles and clung thinly to the glass.

Sirin, who on her first day had promised to change into jeans, was still wearing that short black skirt today. A whole month, and she hadn't fixed a single thing about her outfit.

When I asked why, she said it was the standard work uniform issued by the facility laundry.

The laundry staff said the same thing.

Honestly… they'd suddenly added a skirt like that to the standard uniform? It made no sense.

"Team Leader! Indoor smoking is prohibited!"

The door burst open and Sirin walked in. Her blonde hair was still loose, and two buttons of her shirt were undone.

Even after a month of continuous CCTV observation, I couldn't find anything unusual about her behavior.

The only thing that had changed over a month of watching was how she addressed me.

For the first three days she called me "senior," and only after I corrected her about ten times that I was the team leader did she start using the proper title.

"This isn't a cigarette."

"…There's smoke coming out of it?"

"It's a Mental Stabilization Stick."

"It's made by a tobacco company."

"If the packaging doesn't say 'cigarette,' it's not a cigarette."

"Is that your common sense, Team Leader?"

"Yeah. Got a problem with my common sense?"

Sirin looked at my face for a moment. Her star-shaped pupils glittered as if catching the light.

"No. Your common sense is special, after all."

That was an odd thing to say.

Thud.

Just as I was about ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to press her on it, Sirin set the file folder she'd brought onto the desk.

Looks like a new containment subject had come in.

"…Did you check the one that came in this time?"

"Ah, just a moment."

Sirin opened the folder and flipped through a few pages. She couldn't find the right documents right away and passed the same page twice.

"Found it. Temporary designation: Tiny Fairy. Do not make direct contact."

"Characteristics?"

"Blank."

"Trigger conditions."

"Also blank."

"Discovery location?"

"There isn't one?"

My head throbbed.

Lately more subjects had been coming in with nothing learned from the initial investigation, but a blank discovery location?

Whether it rose from the ground or crawled out of a door, they could at least write down where it was first seen.

"Photo."

Sirin held out the last page.

The photo showed a woman the size of a palm. It had been taken so close that the sense of scale was hard to grasp.

Silver hair and transparent wings, a face and body well past twenty. She looked like an adult woman simply scaled down.

I checked the containment cell beyond the glass. The same woman from the photo sat on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest.

"Team Leader."

"What."

"Isn't that fairy super cute?"

"It's an anomaly."

"But cute is still cute."

"So…?"

Sirin walked up to the glass. The thighs revealed beneath her short skirt moved alternately with each step.

I didn't want to confirm my masculinity this way. I turned my gaze to the window. My face felt slightly warm.

"Could we just open the door for a second?"

I examined Sirin's face first. Her focus wasn't wavering. Her breathing and speech were the same as usual. The star-shaped pupils made it hard to check size, but there was no noticeable change.

That's the bigger problem, though.

When contact desire arises, you suspect mental pollution first. Content taught dozens of times from day one of training.

"You want to open it?"

"Yes."

"How badly?"

"I want to pull her out right now and stroke her head."

"Does it not occur to you that that thought is strange?"

"What occurs to me is that locking up something that cute is the strange part."

Fourteen re-educations and twenty-two cleansings. My patience ended here.

Click.

I opened the cover under the desk and pressed the red button.

"Wait, Team Leader."

"What."

"Can't we just talk this out?"

"Let's talk after your brain is clean."

The Control Room door locked. Just before white chemicals poured from the ceiling, I pulled down my goggles and put on a black mask.

"How many times this month is this?"

Beep.

With a mechanical tone, the ceiling opened.

"Team Leader, doesn't the number twenty-three mean the education method is wrong, not that I'm the problem?"

"Shut your mouth. Chemical incoming."

White mist swallowed Sirin.

"Ugh!"

A moment later, Sirin crawled on the floor.

Every cough scattered her blonde hair across the white tiles. Her face, a mess of tears and snot, was rather… fascinating.

Her needlessly short outfit made the pose dangerous.

Every time her prone body heaved, the hem of her skirt rode up her thighs. The shirt, soaked with chemicals, clung to reveal the black bra and the shape of her chest.

I turned my head. Even if I'd been a man until four years ago, we were both women now.

No reason to make a fuss every time I saw someone changing.

I snuck a look.

Black, huh.

Hoo, haah.

Deep breath.

I'd never felt this way about a man. I still preferred women, and the woman in front of me was close to my type if you ignored her personality. Her personality was… a pretty big problem, though.

"Ugh, Team Leader."

"What do you want."

"You're so mean."

"The fact that you're talking right after a cleansing means you're fine."

"Which part of me looks fine?"

Sirin glared up at me from the floor. Star-shaped pupils peeked through wet blonde hair.

I took off my white coat and tossed it over her waist.

"Cover yourself."

"…Did you look?"

"You think I looked because I wanted to?"

"I don't mind if you look."

"Want a twenty-fourth cleansing?"

Sirin obediently wrapped the coat around her waist.

After the chemical exhaust finished, the Control Room lock released. I brought a new mask and a towel and crouched in front of Sirin.

"Can you get up?"

"I don't know."

"Was I too harsh?"

"Yes."

"The fact that you can answer so well means you can get up."

Sirin pouted. Still, she planted her hands on the floor and tried to push herself up.

Her legs gave out immediately.

"Ah."

I caught her falling waist with my arm. Sirin's body settled right into my arms.

Her wet ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shirt pressed against my knit sweater. When her damp chest pushed against the underside of mine, soft flesh pressed together.

Mine are heavy enough without having to support someone else's.

Sirin wrapped both arms around my neck. From her wet blonde hair came the smell of chemicals mixed with a sweet fruit scent. The skin near my cheek was cold from the recent cleansing.

"Let go."

"My legs have no strength."

"If I just support your waist, you can stand."

"My chest has no strength either."

"Nobody stands with their chest."

"I feel like your chest could walk around on its own, Team Leader."

Hup.

I made a motion of letting go of her waist.

"I'm sorry."

Her arms tightened around my neck. She pressed in deep enough that our chests fully met. Between the knit and the wet shirt, the shape of round flesh being compressed was far too clear.

Did this girl not know what kind of body she had? She probably knew perfectly well. Malicious little—

"I'll take you to the cot, so don't do anything weird."

"What did I do?"

"You're doing it right now."

"You're the one who held me, Team Leader. Hing-hing."

"I'll drop you."

Sirin laughed and buried her face in my shoulder.

It was only five steps to the cot.

With every step, Sirin's thigh brushed against my jeans. Because of the short skirt, the soft feel of bare skin came through the denim directly.

When I sat Sirin on the bed, the arms around my neck slowly loosened. Her fingertips brushed my nape, passed my shoulder, and caught on the coat collar.

"Hands off."

"I'm disappointed."

"About what."

"It was warm."

I didn't answer and draped the towel over her head. When I roughly tousled her blonde hair, Sirin's head bobbed back and forth.

"That hurts."

"Deal with it."

"Can't you be a little gentler?"

"Be grateful I'm drying your hair at all."

"Not like this—stroke it, please."

From under the towel, Sirin's eyes looked up at me.

Her star-shaped pupils glittered unusually bright.

—Stroking someone's head is no big deal. It's not that different from patting a colleague on the shoulder when they've done well.

I stopped moving my hands.

Was that thought just now mine?

Things like this had happened occasionally since meeting Sirin.

Thoughts that it was fine to call them by name, that a short skirt could serve as protective gear, that giving snacks to containment subjects was a kind act would suddenly…

I'd dismissed them every time as nonsense, but this time the moment of occurrence was far too clear. Suspicion took root.

It was right after Sirin asked me to stroke her head.

"Team Leader?"

I pulled the towel away and gripped Sirin's chin with my black-gloved hand.

"Open your eyes wide."

"Why all of a sudden?"

"I need to check something."

I lifted one eyelid with my thumb. The star pattern didn't look like a contact lens. A yellow light moved slowly inside the pupil.

—Why haven't I asked about those unique eyes until now? Why on earth?

"Take out the lenses."

"They're not lenses."

"Star-shaped pupils aren't lenses? Are you a mutant?"

"Star-shaped pupils are common! I'm not a mutant!"

"I've never seen anyone with star eyes in this facility except you."

"Maybe that's because you don't have many friends, Team Leader?"

Pressure went into the chin I was holding.

Squeeze.

Sirin's lips pressed together and parted slightly.

The tip of her red tongue moved inside. Whether from the cleansing chemicals or not, her lips were wet and glossy.

My gaze kept dropping. Snap out of it. Right now I was checking for contamination.

"Open your mouth."

"Here?"

"Where else would you open it."

"If you say that while sitting me on a bed, I get weird ideas."

"What kind of ideas?"

Instead of answering, Sirin slowly opened her mouth. A pink tongue emerged between her front teeth.

I pressed the tip of her tongue with my black-gloved index finger. It was an examination to check if the color had changed from chemical reaction.

"Ah—."

Sirin's thighs pressed together.

Slurp.

When I pushed my finger a little further in, her tongue moved as if licking the underside of the glove. Hot, wet flesh wrapped around the joint of my index finger.

"Don't move."

"Mmnh—."

A strange sound leaked from the back of her throat. Her star pupils never left my face as she looked up.

Beh—.

When I pulled out the finger pressing her tongue, a thin strand of saliva connected to the tip of the glove.

Sirin's face flushed red, and for no reason I felt hot too.

"Team Leader."

"What."

"Your fingers are pretty."

"How can you see my fingers through gloves?"

"I want to see them bare too."

"Let's do one more Brain Cleansing."

"I'm serious."

"That's why I'm saying it."

I peeled off the saliva-stained glove and tossed it in the disposal bin. As I reached for a new glove, Sirin grabbed my now bare wrist.

"Just once."

"What."

"Stroke my head with your bare hand."

I tried to shake her off, but Sirin didn't let go of my wrist. Her grip wasn't strong, but her palm was warm.

The tip of her thumb slowly rubbed the place where my pulse beat. A sticky touch. It clung and wouldn't let go.

"Why do you keep asking me to touch your head."

"Because I like it."

"Who does."

"I do."

"…You're twenty-five."

"Twenty-five-year-olds aren't allowed to have their heads stroked?"

"I-it's weird by common sense."

"You really love the word 'common sense,' Team Leader."

Heh heh…

Sirin's smile deepened a little.

"I'm curious how much of that common sense I can change."

Squeeze.

The hand holding my wrist tightened.

I looked down at Sirin. Yellow light slowly turned inside her star-shaped pupils.

A month's worth of questions connected all at once.

—Why had no one found the newcomer's outfit strange?

—Why had the Facility Director spoken as if clear regulation violations were no problem at all?

—Why, no matter how many cleansings and re-educations she received, was she never fired?

"Lee Sirin."

"You finally called me by name."

"What are you?"

Without answering, Sirin pulled the hand she was holding up onto her own head. Soft blonde hair touched my bare palm.

When the warm body heat transferred under my palm, Sirin's eyes narrowed into crescents.

"Who knows?"

Nuzzle.

She slowly rubbed her head against my palm.

"If you stroke it just once, Team Leader, I might tell you."

My head felt foggy.

—Ah, if I close my eyes now.

Common Sense Alteration worked on everyone. Whatever Sirin the anomaly decided was natural became the common sense of those around ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her.

Perception alteration that touched even how others saw her could be used the same way.

A short skirt became safe work attire, and a fabricated report card became a perfect-score record.

She tried the ability on Seollin the same way, but it was immediately pushed back.

Dozens of attempts, same result. The researcher named Seollin had an extremely high immunity to mental attacks and pollution.

Maybe I should take my time and break through slowly!

Seollin was interesting.

She resisted when the ability was used, yet without it she still snuck sticky glances and skinship!

Even without changing common sense, Seollin liked her! That fact was pleasing!

She'd never seen a perfect human who didn't need changing!

She felt desire.

She wanted to have her.

A real human, not a fake one!

A human the ability didn't work well on!

Sirin clasped the hand on her head with both of hers. She interlaced their fingers so it couldn't escape, then rested her cheek against the palm.

Why didn't Common Sense Alteration work. Why was she so gentle even though it didn't work. She'd have to stick close for a long time until she figured it out.

If possible, she wanted to become very, very close.

"Mm… so for now, vaguely muddling memories or clouding the mind is the limit? Looks like it's not complete immunity."

Well, there was plenty of time.

She reached a hand toward the unconscious Seollin.