The weight I had gradually become accustomed to carrying freely against my chest was lifted and held more securely, changing the way everything moved when I shifted.
“Oh.”
Sera walked behind me.
“What?”
“That actually helps.”
“With your chest?”
“Indeed, this is much more comfortable.”
“I would imagine so.”
The clasp clicked shut behind my back.
I rolled my shoulders experimentally.
My breasts still felt substantial—there was no hiding that—but having them supported made the weight considerably less distracting.
Maybe bras had a point after all.
Sera adjusted one strap by a small amount.
“There.”
I looked down.
“Comfortable?”
“More than I expected.”
“Good. Now the tights.”
My optimism disappeared as I looked at the nearly transparent black fabric still waiting on the bench.
I picked them up and found the waistband.
“Do I just put both legs in and pull up?”
Sera caught my wrist before I could demonstrate.
“Not like trousers.”
I looked at her hand, then at her.
“There are different techniques for putting on leg-shaped clothing?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if you attempt to pull them on from the waistband, you are considerably more likely to tear them.”
She took the tights and gathered one leg between her hands until almost the entire length of fabric had been compressed down toward the toe.
“Sit.”
I obeyed.
Sera handed the gathered section back to me.
“Put your foot inside first, then gradually release the fabric as you move upward.”
I slipped my toes into it.
The material felt strange immediately—cool, smooth, and almost impossibly thin against my skin.
I carefully worked it over my heel.
“That’s it?”
“Continue.”
I released the gathered fabric little by little, drawing it over my ankle and calf until the sheer black material began covering my leg, changing surprisingly little about how my skin looked beyond darkening it slightly and smoothing everything beneath a translucent layer.
I continued upward.
The fabric stretched considerably more once it reached my thigh, following its shape closely without feeling nearly as restrictive as I had expected, and then I repeated the process with the other leg.
By the time both sides reached my upper thighs, I was becoming increasingly confident.
That confidence lasted until I tried pulling the rest upward.
I stood and carefully worked the waistband over my hips, feeling the tights stretch tightly around my backside before finally settling at my waist.
I looked down at myself.
“That feels strange.”
“You’ll stop noticing them.”
“Everyone keeps promising me I’ll stop noticing things or get used to them eventually.”
Sera’s expression changed for the briefest moment, not into the amused little smile she usually had, but into something quieter and more complex that disappeared before I could even think of questioning her.
“You probably will.”
I didn’t think much of it, since I was busy with more important stuff.
The skirt came next.
I stepped into it and pulled it upward, immediately noticing how differently it behaved from my shorts. The fitted fabric followed my thighs closely before tightening around my hips, and once I had worked it completely into place, the high waist settled neatly against the narrowest part of my waist.
Sera fastened the zipper at the back before smoothing a small wrinkle near my hip.
I tried to take one step forward, only for the skirt to stop me considerably sooner than I expected.
I looked downward.
“Seriously? I can’t even walk properly in these.”
“There is a vent at the back to make it easier to move.”
“That doesn’t give me my mobility back.”
“You are not expected to sprint through the headquarters anyway.”
“I may reconsider that depending on how the morning goes.”
Sera ignored me and handed over the blouse.
At least shirts were familiar territory.
Mostly.
I slipped my arms into the sleeves and began fastening the buttons from the bottom upward. The blouse had obviously been tailored specifically for Evelyn, so unlike my tank top, it accommodated my chest without straining awkwardly across it.
When I reached the upper buttons, I hesitated.
“How far?”
Sera glanced over.
“One more.”
I fastened it.
She studied me.
“Leave the rest.”
I looked down at the moderately sized opening left at the collar, which showed more cleavage than I had ever intended.
“That’s professional?”
“It is. And it’s the way you usually wear it.”
“I’m trusting you.”
At this point, I had pretty much given up on arguing with either of them, since somehow I ended up doing whatever they wanted anyway.
“As you should.”
Sera stepped closer and smoothed the blouse down before tucking the hem neatly into the high waist of the skirt, adjusting the fabric until it sat cleanly without bunching.
The black jacket came last, and the moment I slipped it on, the outfit seemed to change.
Until then, I had mostly felt like myself wearing a collection of unfamiliar women’s clothes, but the jacket pulled everything together, sharpening the line of my shoulders and waist while the black skirt continued that severe silhouette downward.
Sera stepped in front of me and adjusted the lapels.
“There.”
I turned toward the mirror and remained silent for several seconds.
The woman looking back at me still had slightly damp, unstyled platinum hair and a completely bare face, but the transformation had already gone considerably further than I expected. The sheer black tights made my legs look even smoother beneath the fitted skirt, while the white blouse emphasized the contrast between my pale skin and the dark suit and the jacket framed Evelyn’s narrow waist without hiding the curves beneath it.
I no longer looked entirely like a university student who had accidentally woken up in someone else’s body.
Sera appeared behind me in the reflection.
“We aren’t finished.”
I glanced at her through the mirror.
“Somehow, I knew exactly what you were going to say.”
She pulled out the chair in front of the dressing table.
“Sit.”
On its surface waited brushes, cosmetics, several small jewelry cases, and more mysterious objects than I cared to identify.