Ethan stood in front of the mirror for what felt like forever.
The uniform was folded neatly on the chair: a crisp white blouse, navy pleated skirt, matching ribbon, black socks, and blazer. Nothing fancy. Just a standard high school girl's outfit.
But to Ethan, it might as well have been a suit of armor.
He'd been staring at it for ten minutes and hadn't even touched it.
"This is real. I'm going to school. As her."
He finally peeled off the hospital gown he still wore as pajamas and stood there—bare, uncertain—his eyes slowly meeting the reflection in the mirror.
There she was.
Pale skin. Delicate features. A slight build that still looked fragile but upright, healthy. Slender arms. A body shaped by youth and illness and now recovery.
A girl.
His sister.
Him.
He turned sideways, catching the soft curvature of the hips beneath the waistline. His face turned red instantly.
"This is too much…"
He reached for the undergarments left on the dresser—plain, cotton, modest. But even holding them made his hands sweat. How did girls wear this every day without feeling constantly exposed?
Putting them on was a trial. The bra alone took five full minutes of adjusting, stretching, and whispering frustrated curses. The way it hugged his chest felt too intimate, too revealing.
When he finally slipped the blouse on, it clung against the new contours of his chest like it had been designed to trap him in awkwardness.
He buttoned up carefully, flushed, avoiding the mirror… until he glanced up again.
And paused.
It wasn't just that she was beautiful—she was. Pale and porcelain-like, with that quiet, dignified softness that Lily always had.
It was the surreal realization that this body, that he had known only from across the room, was now his. Every step, every heartbeat, every breath.
"I don't know how to feel about any of this."
He was just reaching for the skirt when—
Knock knock—CLICK!
"Lily! Breakfast is—OH MY GOD!!"
Ethan froze mid-change, skirt around his hips, blouse unbuttoned halfway. And standing in the doorway, slack-jawed and still holding a piece of toast, was Uncle Masaru.
"UNCLE!!" Ethan shrieked.
Masaru's eyes bulged. He backpedaled so hard he almost tripped over the door frame and slammed the door shut behind him.
"SORRY! I DIDN'T—I THOUGHT YOU WERE DRESSED ALREADY!"
"YOU COULD'VE WAITED FOR A RESPONSE!"
"I THOUGHT YOU WERE ONE OF THOSE 'WAKE-UP-AND-GO' TEENS!"
"I'M NOT ANY TEEN—I'M—!"
Ethan groaned and fell into the desk chair, face burning, hands over his eyes.
"I just got seen in my sister's body. Half-dressed. By our uncle. This is it. My life is over."
From the hallway, Masaru's voice came again—hesitant, sheepish.
"I, uh… brought extra eggs."
"YOU CAN'T BRIBE DIGNITY BACK WITH EGGS, UNCLE!"
"Well, I can try."
Ethan finished dressing at top speed. The skirt swished lightly against his legs, the socks hugging his calves like silky ropes, the blazer fitting snugly around his frame. He pulled the ribbon into place and glanced at the mirror one last time.
The girl in the reflection looked… normal. School-ready. Slightly flushed, slightly shaken, but presentable.
He exhaled.
"You better be laughing up there, Lily. Because I sure as hell am not."
He headed downstairs with stiff dignity.
Masaru was at the table, very visibly not making eye contact.
He shoved a plate toward him.
"Eat your eggs. I'll knock next time. Twice. Maybe three times."
Ethan nodded wordlessly and sat down, face still red.
But somewhere, deep under the awkwardness, there was a flicker of something warm.
This is what mornings used to be like. Normal. Alive.
Maybe, somehow… this is what Lily wanted me to feel again.