The gentle, older female staff member smiled softly and, from a small stand beside her, lifted a pair of glossy black strap shoes with both hands.

“These are the ‘official shoes’ that go with this uniform,” she said gently as she placed the shoes neatly in front of Gō, aligning the toes.

The lustrous texture of the leather, the rounded toes and the structure of the thin strap tightening over the instep all looked as though they had been made with ‘a young girl’s feet’ in mind from the start.

When Gō hesitated, she lightly pressed his shoulder and guided him down into a chair.

“Relax. Bring your foot forward… yes, just like that. Be honest with it,” she encouraged in the same gentle tone.

Gō slowly extended one leg.

The staff member crouched down, carefully fitting the shoe onto his foot and delicately fastening the thin strap.

“…Hehe, the size is perfect. See? Your feet look properly ‘girlish’ now. That means your ‘place to stand’ has been decided too,” she added with a quiet chuckle.

Gō swallowed, his throat twitching.

The black strap shoes fixed around his feet. Over the white pantyhose, the leather firmly enclosed his legs.

It felt almost like a restraint telling him, ‘There’s no escape anymore.’

She repeated the same process with his other foot.

The final sound of the buckle snapping shut, a sharp click, pierced deep into Gō’s chest.

“…Now you’re truly ‘complete,’” she said, exhaling in satisfaction.

But Claire suddenly stood up, as if she had nearly forgotten the ‘closing rite’ of the ritual. Leaving the leather sofa, she let her slender fingers glide over a small tray on the side table.

Resting there were a delicate perfume bottle wrapped with a pale rose-pink ribbon and a pair of small, white-lustered pearl earrings.

“I almost forgot. ‘Fragrance’ and ‘brilliance’—a finished product needs its final touches.”

Saying this, Claire picked up the perfume bottle and laughed softly, like a sigh.

“This is the ‘key of scent.’ With a sealed fragrance, it locks the final door of that body.”

She stepped forward without hesitation and aimed the bottle toward Gō’s neck.

‘…Stop it… don’t use something like that on me…’

His voice of resistance vanished like mist. With a single spray, a cool, airy sensation brushed his throat.

As Gō instinctively lowered his gaze, his nose was overtaken by a soft, sweet, unmistakably feminine scent. It was a gentle yet unavoidable ‘woman’s smell,’ as though flowers, soap and a hint of fruit had melted together.

‘…This isn’t my smell… it’s a woman’s scent… it’s soaking into me… it won’t come off…’

Yet Claire’s hand did not stop. This time, she pinched one of the small earrings between her fingers and gently touched his ear.

“If you’ve finished the face, don’t forget the ‘ears.’ Swaying light is what confuses people first.”

Snap. The cold sound of metal echoed vividly against his ear.

Claire lifted his chin slightly and looked down at him like a sculptor appraising her finished work.

‘…Stop, that’s not something a man should wear!’

At the edge of his vision, a small white bead swayed faintly. With even the slightest movement of his head came an unfamiliar sensation. Yet that sense of foreignness gradually began to feel like the ‘correct answer.’

‘No matter what I do now… from the outside, I only look like a woman…’

“…Now, everything is truly in place,” the female staff member said softly, as if sealing the moment.

‘Everything… has really been painted over.’

With the sense that the outline of ‘Gō’ within himself was fading somewhere far away, he slowly lowered his gaze.

Panty, stockings, skirt, bra, blouse and the lingering scent of perfume around his neck, along with the pearl-colored earrings swaying by his ears. None of it extended from the ‘person he used to be.’

‘No matter where I look or what I touch, I’m wearing nothing but a woman’s uniform… my entire body is wrapped in things meant for girls. How am I supposed to go back to being a man like this?’

Even as his heart screamed in rejection, his body had fully accepted the ‘shape.’ Panty, stockings, skirt, bra, blouse and now the sweetly scented neck, the shining earlobes and the black strap shoes enclosing his feet were the final touches.

‘…The perfume’s smell is still there… it’s even drifting through my breath… Every time I move my neck, the earrings brush my cheeks… it’s like I’m being taught that a woman’s face is complete…’

The figure reflected in the mirror was a fully finished ‘someone,’ dressed head to toe in a girl’s uniform. It was no longer an ‘in-between’ existence.

‘Is this… me?’

He almost looked away from his reflection, but there was no escape. The mirror was there and the shoes on his feet would not allow him to run anywhere.

“…Alright, that’s ‘everything,’” declared the chief supervisor in a flat voice from the back of the room.

“Your uniform, underwear, hairstyle, makeup and even your footwear are all prepared. This is the ‘standard attire’ you are required to wear during the day from now on.”

‘Standard attire? This?’

At the coldness of those words, a shiver ran up Gō’s spine. There were no excuses left. This was ‘standard.’ This was what he was ordered to live as.

As if on cue, Claire de Lafille slowly rose to her feet. Uncrossing her arms as she stood from the leather sofa, she slowly swept her gaze over Gō’s body, licking over every inch with her eyes.

“…Ah, like perfume sealed in a bottle. Beautifully finished and capped—there, now even your appearance is a completed product.”

In her eyes lived both the pride of an artist finishing her creation and a cold, playful delight.

The reflection in the mirror was no longer ‘unfinished.’

He slowly stood up. Even the sound of the shoe soles scraping the floor sounded oddly cute and pathetic.

At that moment, the guide stationed by the exit stepped forward and spoke.

“…This way, please. Proceed to the next session room.”

When Gō glanced back, the female staff who had prepared him stood lined up, one after another.

The gentle older staff member waved, still smiling.

“Do your best… you’ve become so beautiful.”

The chief said nothing. She simply took a step back, scanned Gō in his uniform from head to toe and gave a slight nod, as if to say ‘inspection complete.’

And Sara—swaying her twin-tails—pouted slightly and spoke.

“Ahh… it’s finished. I feel kind of lonely now. Well, there’s more ‘fun’ waiting next time♡”

Gō instinctively lowered his head. The shoes at his feet now felt undeniably real, like a ritual step toward ‘a woman’s life.’

With each slow step forward, the pantyhose brushed together and the hem of his skirt swayed.

The room’s door opened quietly.

Gō left Salon de Fleur in a fully ‘uniformed’ state.

Those footsteps no longer belonged to ‘Gō.’

The sound played by the strap shoes was the first note of ‘a life as a woman.’