His fingertips touched the fabric.

It was far softer than he had expected and far lighter too.

The lace edging crept upward, lightly biting into the inside of his thighs, as if carving a ‘new outline’ into his skin, a barely perceptible difference in temperature, the indescribable ‘boundary’ between finger and fabric sent a shiver across his flesh.

A faint, sweet scent brushed past his nose.

Neither quite soap nor quite flowers, it was a clean scent that felt like it belonged to someone else.

For an instant, he felt as though it might transfer onto his own hands and his wrist trembled ever so slightly.

“Fufu… do you like the smell of that fabric? It will surely become ‘your scent,’ you know.”

A flowing voice descended from behind him.

That slightly nasal tone was unmistakably foreign—Claire.

With her blonde hair beautifully swept up, she sat in one corner of the room with her legs crossed, gazing at Gō as though admiring a sculpture.

The pink trimming caught his eye, along with the fine stitching on the inside.

Things he had only known as knowledge were now touching his own skin.

Somewhere deep in his brain, he heard something quietly crumble.

Just a single piece of fabric.

And yet it felt as though his entire body was slowly being swallowed.

“Put your legs through. Properly, like a good girl.”

That was the gentle female staff member from earlier.

“Yes, keep your knees together. There, nicely behaved. You’ll learn proper ladylike manners, alright.”

A woman’s hand gently supported the fabric, guiding Gō’s movements.

Gō cautiously slipped one leg into the cloth.

A chill crawled along his shin and when he slid the other leg through as well, there was no turning back.

The fabric stroked upward along his thighs.

Female cloth wrapped itself around tightly trained muscle.

Against his hairless thighs and overly sensitive skin, the fabric rubbed softly.

The body he had once honed to its limits could no longer resist even a single layer of cloth, being ‘adjusted’ into a woman.

“…Oh my, look at that expression.”

The young staff member crouched beside him, Sara, whispered teasingly.

“You looked so strong before and now just putting on girls’ underwear makes you look like that… So cuuute. You really look just like a girl.”

She deliberately placed a hand to her cheek and giggled, the gesture fanning the flames of Gō’s shame.

At that moment the ‘man’ inside Gō let out a distinct creaking sound.

‘…Why… why is this happening?’

What brushed lightly against his thighs was women’s underwear.

The soft lace fabric slid smoothly, clingingly, into his skin.

Just one piece of cloth but it wasn’t just underwear.

It was a corrective device that covered the ‘man’ and engraved the outline of ‘womanhood’ onto his body.

‘This is… a tool for becoming a woman…’

With his own hands, Gō pulled it up and firmly settled it at the base of his legs.

What had been pressed into the center barely maintained its shape but crushed by the tightly clinging fabric, its existence was being treated as though it ‘wasn’t there’ at all.

‘What is happening… why am I… like this…’

And yet, his skin keenly registered the sensation of the fabric, reacting with a faint twitch every time the thin lace brushed against it.

Trapped within the inescapable cloth, Gō’s own thing responded faintly with shame, even as it was forcibly pressed down.

‘This is ridiculous… My thing is… losing to women’s panties…’

His fists had been everything.

Only by striking could he prove his existence and yet now.

With just this delicate lace edging, that former ‘strength’ was silently peeling away.

“You look lovely, ‘Gō’-kun… Are you still clinging to that name? Fufu, how laughable.”

Claire’s lips twisted slightly, as though she were savoring his past by speaking his ‘former name’ like a curse.

“…You haven’t realized it yet. Strength isn’t about hitting things. A heart that submits to beauty that is true obedience. The ‘strong man’ was an illusion. The you who is completed as a woman will become far more irresistible. …Yes, with the power of being cute.”

‘Am I really… losing to something like this?’

A ‘weakness’ he had never felt through his fists quietly crept up from his legs and Gō could not stop it.

And yet that cloth like a ‘pen rewriting memories from the inside’ was calmly inscribing letters called pleasure deep within his skin.

It was as though the underwear itself were speaking to his body.

‘…If you just entrust yourself to this cloth a little longer—’

That whispering ‘someone’s voice’ could no longer be distinguished from ‘his own voice.’

He no longer even felt the urge to confirm it.