Krista arrived just in ti. It wasn't exactly prohibited to enter the academy if you weren't a cadet—at least, not during vacation. The real restrictions were placed during school hours to prevent any dangerous individuals from sneaking in.
"What do you want to do, Leon?" she asked, her voice carrying a playful edge.
"I need you to do sothing with her," I told her, nodding towards Johanne.
Krista's eyes flickered to Johanne, who was hugging her arms around herself, fidgeting under Krista's gaze. This was the first ti she'd ever looked so vulnerable, and she was clearly uncomfortable with it.
"What? A makeover or sothing? Unfortunately, I didn't bring any clothes with today. I thought you called for sothing else..." she pouted, lips curling slightly.
I had no idea what she ant by 'sothing else,' but judging by the way she said it, she had sothing... specific in mind. But we didn't have ti to dwell on that. If we didn't act fast, Tris might co back and find Johanne in this state.
"There's no need for a makeover," I clarified. "I want you to do sothing so that no one can tell she's a woman."
"H-Huh?" Krista blinked in confusion.
"I an, I want you to make her look like a guy."
Krista's expression twisted as she tried to process my request. Then, as if deciding not to question it, she shrugged. "Uh, I have no idea what you're up to, but sure. I guess I can work with that."
She leaned forward, bending at the waist until she was practically folding in half, scrutinizing Johanne like so sort of fashion scientist dissecting her subject. Her fingers rubbed her chin, eyes narrowing in deep thought.
"Uh, Leon... does she have to stare at like that?" Johanne asked, voice tinged with unease.
"She's the expert, so yeah, I guess she does," I replied.
Krista's intense inspection didn't stop there. After a long minute, she turned her gaze to , her sharp eyes trailing over my body like she was sizing up. I stiffened. It felt like I was being undressed by her stare alone.
"Hmm..." she mused, eyes gleaming with sothing unreadable.
A few monts passed before she suddenly straightened up and slamd her fist into her palm. "I got it!"
"That was fast," I muttered.
Well, I supposed it made sense. Krista had a keen eye for detail, trained from years of working with fabrics and body asurents. She was a professional clothing designer, and her ability to gauge proportions just by looking was nothing short of impressive. I was lucky I'd t her back in Martha's brothel.
"I just need so materials," she announced, scribbling sothing down on a notepad. "And we'll be good to go!"
She tore off the page and handed it to . I skimd over the list. Most of the items were easy to gather—things that were already in the room. But one thing stood out.
A specific type of cloth.
I frowned. "Where the hell am I supposed to get this?"
Pulling out my phone, I ssaged Gabrielle, asking if she could find it for . Her reply ca fast, and with it, the location I needed.
A store just a few blocks away from the academy. Perfect. I could grab it and be back in no ti.
After grabbing the items Krista had asked for, she wasted no ti getting to work. Her hands moved with precision, each motion deliberate and controlled, like soone who had done this countless tis before. She didn't hesitate, didn't fumble—just pure efficiency. It was almost srizing to watch. Well, that made sense. She knew exactly what she was doing.
Ti slipped by in a blur, and before I knew it, she was done.
"Here." Krista handed over the binder, her tone brisk yet confident. "Just use this to bind your breasts. Your breasts are pretty big, but if you wrap it tight enough, this should flatten them out."
Johanne hesitated before taking it. "Uh… Okay…"
"It's simple—just wrap it around yourself, and that's it. I made sure it won't put too much pressure on your chest, so you won't feel suffocated," Krista explained, then turned to . "Oh, I gotta go now, Leon. Still got things to do. See you later."
"Later," I replied.
And just like that, she was gone, leaving us in silence.
***
Tris arrived a little later than she had planned, just enough ti for Johanne to fix herself up.
When she walked in, her eyes imdiately found Johanne, her expression shifting from relief to curiosity.
"Johanne, you're awake. Are you feeling better?" she asked, stepping closer.
She studied Johanne carefully. Even though Johanne was now biologically female, the remnants of her forr self still clung to her. The strong, defined jawline had softened, but not entirely; her eyes, once sharp and intense, now carried a certain delicate allure. Her body was still tall, still lean, but her hips had widened slightly, and her waist curved in ways it hadn't before. And then there was the voice—softer, smoother, lacking the rough edge it once had.
"Y-Yeah. Thank you," Johanne replied, forcing her voice deeper.
It sounded off. Forced.
I glanced at Tris, hoping she wouldn't pick up on it.
She did.
"Is sothing wrong, Johanne? Your voice sounds… different."
"N-No, I'm fine," Johanne said quickly, still trying to mask the shift in her tone. "Maybe it's because of the pain earlier. My voice probably got a little strained. But physically, I'm fine."
Tris didn't look convinced. Her brows knitted together as her gaze traveled over Johanne's form, absorbing every tiny difference. Her body language tensed slightly, like her instincts were screaming at her that sothing was off.
I could see the mont she started piecing things together.
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Even though Johanne was still tall, her height had dropped slightly. Her shoulders had narrowed. Her Adam's apple was gone. The feminine softness in her face was impossible to ignore. And even though the binder had done its job in flattening her chest, the shape of her body couldn't be completely hidden. It was subtle—small changes, tiny shifts—but to soone who had known her intimately, those little differences were glaring.
Tris tilted her head, staring, lips slightly parted like she was about to ask sothing. But then she hesitated.
"O-Okay then…" she finally said, voice laced with uncertainty.
For now, she let it go.
"Let's go. Are you okay to walk? I brought a butler with . Want to call him to carry you?"
"I-I'm fine," Johanne said quickly, almost too quickly. "I can walk on my own."
Tris held her gaze for a mont longer before nodding. "I see. That's good, then." She smiled—soft, but unreadable.
She didn't say anything more, but I could tell the thought hadn't left her mind.
"Let's go. Thank you, Leon, for taking care of my husband," she said, still wearing that sa unreadable smile.
"No worries," I replied, my tone steady. "Johanne's my friend. Of course, I'd help."
After that, they left.
***
Tris's POV
The mont I laid eyes on Johanne, I knew sothing was off.
Sothing about her was… off. And it wasn't just a minor difference—this wasn't like noticing soone had lost a bit of weight or that they looked more exhausted than usual. No, the shift was stark, blatant, impossible to ignore.
She looked softer. Feminine in a way that hadn't been there before. Her face—still familiar, still undeniably Johanne—had lost the sharp handsoness I'd always associated with her. The angles were gentler now, more delicate, like the edges of a sculpture smoothed down by ti. If I couldn't call her handso anymore, then what was she? Beautiful? The thought sent a strange sensation crawling up my spine.
And her voice…
It was subtle, but it had changed. The firm, steady tone I was used to was gone, replaced by sothing quieter, sothing silkier, sothing undeniably softer. It wasn't high-pitched or overtly feminine, but there was a smoothness to it, a lightness that hadn't been there before.
I didn't miss any of it. How could I? I've known Johanne for years.
And yet, I said nothing.
Because deep down, I already knew.
I have a secret. A truth I've carried alone for years.
The reason I wanted Johanne to be with my brother instead of wasn't just because I was obsessed with male-on-male romances. Okay, maybe that was part of it—I loved those stories, devoured them, lived for them—but that wasn't the real reason.
No. It was because of sothing I overheard when I was twelve.
Sothing I was never ant to hear.
The Sword Saint—Johanne's father—was speaking with mine. Their voices were hushed, but their words hit like a hamr.
"Johanne is my flesh and blood, but she wasn't originally male. You already know that, don't you?"
"Yeah. You told before. The mont she was born, you found a witch who could change a person's gender and had her turned into a boy. But does that even matter? He's a man now, and I have a daughter. We can finally unite our families. For decades, we tried, but our ancestors kept producing sons, so there was no way to tie our bloodlines together. But now, I have a daughter, and you have a son. Wouldn't it be perfect if we paired them?"
I rember standing there, frozen, my breath locked in my throat.
I shouldn't have heard that.
But I did.
And it shattered everything I thought I knew.
Johanne had always been a boy to . She acted like one, carried herself like one, even fought with a sword like one. But after hearing that conversation, sothing inside twisted.
Because Johanne wasn't a boy. Not really. She was born a girl. And the worst part? She had no idea.
That day, I made a decision.
I was going to help her.
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