[identity profile] aphelion-orion.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] off_the_homerow
Title: The Story of How Souji Got a Really Great Rack
Fandom: Persona 4
Parts: 4/? (1, 2, 3, 4)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Possible Souji/Yosuke
Contains: humor/crack, genderswap



Upon waking up on Wednesday morning, the first thing Souji did was to perform a general inventory on himself. He'd never had to, before, but he figured, what with newly being a girl and all, it would be prudent to check whether the change didn't violate any laws of human biology, beyond the mere fact that he had turned into a girl at all.

The good news was that all his limbs were still in working order, if slightly achy from the redistribution of his weight. He also hadn't developed any extra breasts, a taste for virgin flesh or tentacles, which, considering where the transformation had set in, was altogether a borderline miracle. The bad news was that he had promptly forgotten how to put on a bra.

Rummaging around in yesterday's shopping bags, he fished out one of the deceptively simple-looking contraptions — light blue, at Kanji's insistence, since, "That girl's mad, sempai. You're a winter, not a spring!" — and tried to figure out the best way to contort himself into reaching for the straps at the back. At least, most of the underwear in his size had turned out to be leaning towards the practical side, without too many rhinestones and lacy trimmings — most uncomfortable sensation in his life, having the synthetic lace itch and chafe in places that had no business itching and chafing, and really, how did girls manage?

After several more yoga poses to adjust his underwear, and discovering that Rise had managed to smuggle a pair of thigh-high stockings into his new wardrobe for the ultimate zettai ryouiki experience, Souji found he was starting to develop not just a new understanding of the female form, but also a heretofore unknown appreciation for the simplicity of guys' fashion. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the pull-zip-button order of things, he felt as he was struggling with the strings on the bobbin vest, and the person who had invented fake pants pockets simply needed to — well, not die, but have an encounter with a rabid Tasmanian devil, perhaps.

At this rate, he was going to need a purse.

A good half hour and several encounters with fake buttons, zippers, and the impossibility of getting the stockings to stay where they ought to later, Souji paused to regard himself in the mirror on the inside of his wardrobe door. For his first attempt at dressing himself, it hadn't turned out too bad; maybe a little lopsided, but he could count on Rise to arrange all the superfluous straps in a fashion-forward manner.

All this, of course, was just a detraction from the true problems, namely that, one, nobody had the faintest idea what had hit him — and only him — or how to reverse it. For a moment, a line of gender-switched versions of his friends marched through his mind, paused briefly to let him confirm that a v-neck really wasn't very flattering on Kanji, what had Rise been thinking, and vanished out of sight again.

Picking up the butterfly clips (courtesy of Teddie), Souji shook his head. Hopefully, this wasn't permanent. Not that he minded especially, it was a bit strange, that was all, he just wasn't looking forward to explaining to his parents that their son was now their daughter. They tended to take any sort of drastic changes to life's itinerary not very well, and he didn't want to imagine how they would take any of the information he would have to supply to convince them that he hadn't run away and secretly had gender reassignment surgery. TVs, murders, portals into other worlds and ancient gods with ancient grudges weren't the kind of thing the Seta parts of the family seemed particularly well-equipped to deal with.

Here, Souji felt it appropriate to send a quick prayer of thanks to the powers that be for his uncle's well-now-I've-really-seen-everything cop attitude.

And then there was the matter of the team being worried about him, something that yesterday's impromptu shopping spree had managed to gloss over if not thoroughly alleviate. He was sure that if he went to look at his messages, he'd probably find a dozen terminated calls on record, all dialed around midnight when the sheer strangeness of the experience had settled and everyone had begun wondering about the endless number of ways the change might affect his health.

Truth be told, Souji wasn't nearly as concerned about it as he probably ought to have been; he didn't feel very different, sense of bodily displacement and sudden urge to do something more interesting with his hair aside. In fact, he felt oddly at ease, comforted by a certainty that it would all make sense with time, though he couldn't have said how he knew.

Perhaps it was just his sense of responsibility kicking in, reminding him once again of what he'd told Yosuke yesterday — panicking was sure to solve nothing, and an uneasy leader made for an uneasy team.

As if it had sensed the thought, his cell phone gave a little jingle to signal the arrival of the first of what would likely be several worried texts.

Hey, partner.

Yosuke. Souji smiled. Of course, he'd be first. He could practically sense the moment's hesitation before Yosuke's fingers had chosen to type out the familiar nickname, too.

You doing okay?
Any change?
Let me know if you wanna cancel the trip.
I'll tell the others.


Shaking his head, Souji experimentally stuck his feet in his sneakers, and found he'd need about two pairs of socks to properly fit them with his newly delicate girl feet. Not quite willing to put more layers of cloth between himself and the world in the sweltering heat than necessary, he went hunting for band-aids instead.

Canceling the trip wouldn't do, not when they'd spent all day yesterday shaking down shadows for pocket money. Summer vacation in Inaba was all that had kept him going during June's extra cram classes, packed into a classroom with forty other straight-A students in downtown Tokyo and nobody to interrupt the steady drone of the teacher with little notes.

/No worries, I'm good.
We're still on. I'll meet you guys at 8:30—/


He might no longer fit his swim suit, but that didn't mean he couldn't at least hang his legs in the water. Speaking of legs...

Souji paused in applying preemptive band-aids to his toes, looking back at the mirror for a last critical appraisal and deciding that here was another thing that wouldn't do. Girl shorts didn't go all that well with the average guy's upkeep of his shins.

With a quick glance at the clock, his thumb hit the erase button.

/9:00./

That ought to give him enough time. Nodding to himself with a sense of satisfaction, Souji made his way to the bathroom to locate the shaving kit.





- TBC -

-----

A/N: Next up: Nanako is confused, Dojima is resigned, and Yosuke faceplants a lot. Also, bikinis.



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