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After the train arrived in the station, he ran home as fast as he could and bolted up the stone steps out front. He spent a while looking at his reflection in the mirror before he really started to do anything.
He picked up a box of hair dye he usually used to mask the gray hairs that were slowly starting to appear on his former head; soon, he had dyed his blonde hair black. He dug out some old makeup he had in the bathroom. He used to wear it and dream of being a woman; now he actually was one. He completed the look with a kimono, which he knew would only be interpreted by any westerners as a dress.
It wouldn’t be the first time that he dressed up to look feminine inside his house, but it was amazingly liberating when he stepped back outside. Everything felt a lot more right than they had a few hours ago, but something still seemed off; he couldn’t quite place his finger on it and with all the good that he was feeling right now, it was pretty easy to ignore.