“なにこれ?” Steven said as he tried to make sense of what was happening. But even the words coming out of mouth made him concerned. He was speaking in a language he didn’t understand with seemingly fluency. He was in a strange city and in a strange body -- a woman’s body.
And if all that wasn’t bad enough, the breeze kept blowing his dress up, and he kept having to hold it down. He thought the dress looked silly and juvenile, but he checked the ID in her purse. She was 32. Was she trying to look young? Or did she just have a kawaii style? Either way, he was the one dealing with it, and he felt like an idiot!
Didn’t he?
In much the way his mind had adapted to the language, his mind was slowly starting to change on everything. The dress wans’t so bad, was it? It was actually kind of cute. Kind of? No. It was exactly his style. Correction: HER style!
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