Morning light cut several bright streaks through the gaps in the blinds, illuminating the bathroom, which was filled with the faint scent of shower gel.
Koushi Hōoin—or rather, she who was now forced to accept the identity of "Phoenix-in Chinatsu"—stood before the still-foggy mirror, preparing for an incredibly difficult "deployment."
The girl in the mirror had soaking wet, ice-blue long hair draped over her shoulders, with water still dripping from the ends.
Her skin had a faint pink tint from the recent bath, and her features were as delicate as a doll's.
But the normally calm blue eyes were now filled with shame, indignation, despair, and a nearly numb acceptance of fate.
(Phoenix-in Chinatsu... Phoenix-in Chinatsu... I am Koushi's younger sister... I'm filling in...)
She tried to psych herself up, but the moment her gaze fell upon the voluptuous, stunning curves in the mirror—curves that absolutely did not belong to her—all her mental preparation instantly collapsed.
(...No way, I absolutely cannot get used to this! No matter how I look at it, this is a super beautiful girl! What does this have to do with me, damn it!)
(Focus... Database retrieval... Target: Raizen High School girls' uniform...)
(White undershirt... thin red tie... purple-black jacket with white trim... dark sky-blue pleated skirt... black over-the-knee stockings... black loafers...)
(Material Understanding... Structure replication... Size... Size adaptation to current form...)
A gentle stream of azure data enveloped her, beginning to construct the uniform layer by layer like the most precise 3D printer.
As the light faded, a complete, standard school uniform appeared on her body.
Then, Chinatsu fell into a deathly silence once more.
The clothes were those clothes.
Every detail was precisely replicated.
But the instruction "Size adaptation to current form" seemed to have been maliciously misinterpreted by some unscrupulous entity.
The white undershirt was clearly overwhelmed; the fabric was tightly stretched by her impressive bust, the gaps between the buttons slightly parted, clearly outlining a full and surging curve, as if it would burst free at any second.
The thin red tie hanging between them, far from distracting attention, instead acted like a delicate cinnabar mark, casually adorning the peaks and quietly drawing the eye.
The purple-black jacket could only hang open helplessly; far from concealing anything, it acted like a carefully designed frame, making the breathtaking curves outlined by the shirt even more prominent.
The dark sky-blue pleated skirt seemed even more cramped due to the excessive difference between her waist and hips.
This caused her long, beautiful legs, encased in black over-the-knee stockings, to occupy almost all the visual focus.
The stretch of fair "absolute territory" between the hem of the skirt and the top of the stockings was tantalizingly visible with every movement.
Moreover, the light, thin fabric used for the hem, as it swayed, cast a veil of hazy temptation over the graceful contours beneath, silently challenging the rational defenses of any observer.
(...)
(herrscher core of reason... I sincerely greet your ancestors for eighteen generations!!!)
(...What... What kind of fetish is this... Ah, ptooey! What kind of bizarre design is this?!)
(What I wanted was to be low-key! To be normal! To blend into the crowd! Not to debut as a campus idol, hey!)
(Aha!!! This must be your doing!!! This Understanding is definitely problematic!!!)
Chinatsu's heart was roaring, but her face was numb from excessive shock.
(Precise! Too precise! Every damn detail is precisely replicated!)
(But what planet is this "adaptation" from?! Is this called "adaptation"?! This is called "catastrophic rendering"!)
(This isn't a school uniform at all! This is a school uniform tattooed onto my body! And it's the kind that prominently emphasizes all the features that shouldn't be emphasized!)
(I just wanted to quietly go to school, not run for Campus Succubus, hey! If the AST doesn't catch me, the disciplinary committee will be the first to kick me out!)
She tried to take a deep breath, and the shirt buttons let out a faint groan.
She tried to take half a step, and the sway of the short skirt and the subtle friction sound of the black stockings made her feel like she was performing some kind of sinful show.
(...It's over... It's completely over...)
(This is beyond mere social death... If I walk out dressed like this, the headline on the campus forum tomorrow will probably be "Shock! Transfer Student Miss Chinatsu Stuns the Entire School with Such a Figure!")
(...Aha... You win... This fun is certainly big enough...)
Clutching the last shred of faint hope, she put on the white [mask of the fool].
A faint cognitive interference field spread out.
It couldn't change the physical reality, but it seemed to make those who saw her more readily accept, "Wow, this underclassman has an incredible figure," rather than immediately suspecting, "Is this inhuman proportion a Spirit?"
(...Burying one's head in the sand... Self-deception... But this is my last shred of dignity...)
She took one last look at the figure in the mirror—the "beautiful girl" with ice-blue long hair and a figure so explosive the school uniform could barely contain it.
(...Phoenix-in Chinatsu...)
(...Your school life... is in Hell Mode from the very beginning...)
(...Let's go... Go and face the inevitable stares and social death...)
Carrying a sense of almost numb tragedy, she pushed open the front door, exposing that body—which looked even more "sinful" beneath the standard uniform—to the sunlight of Amamiya City, embarking on the journey toward social death.