GenderBender Series; subject#01 - Yabu
The thing about the entire affair was that it just came one day, as suddenly and unexpectedly as a relative announcing their pregnancy, or finding a box of kittens on your doorstep.
When Yabu Kouta woke up that morning, he didn’t feel very different - although he couldn’t understand why he felt exceptionally top-heavy that day, more so than usual at least. He stretched a little, gave a long-drawn yawn, checked the time - but when he rolled over to see the red blinking 8:00 of his digital clock, he realized that his chest seemed, well, softer than usual. It wasn’t exactly flat anymore either, which was somewhat odd, considering how it was about as flat as a washboard during the photo shoot the day before and now it was all squishy and rounded and -
Yabu stopped. Sat up straight in bed. And grabbed his chest.
He flushed a little, because yes, that, uh, rack of his (he felt a little too freaked out to call them breasts just then) actually did belong to him. He gave a few more experimental squeezes (just to check, you know, and not because he was trying to feel himself up), and when he was pretty sure that he was now in possession of a pair of boobs, he flung himself out of bed and dashed into the bathroom.
He squinted at the full-length mirror for a minute. Then two. Then three. He was still roughly the same, really, albeit for a few slight changes (and a major one being those things on his chest) - like the fact that he’d seemed to have softened overnight, losing the angles and hard edges and smoothing out into slight curves and soft contours.
After he was generally satisfied with his own scrutiny, Yabu came to the next challenge of the morning. He wasn’t too sure if he wanted to carry it out, because it would be potentially traumatizing regardless of the outcome - but Yabu Kouta wasn’t one to shy away from difficulties. He took a deep breath, and another - and ripped open his boxers. A beat. Another deep breath. And a sigh. He regarded his reflection again gravely.
You win some, you lose some, he thought sagely.
Still, not even sages can handle such life-changing situations all by themselves, so Yabu decided that the best thing to do next would be to call someone. After running through a quick list in his head (none of Seven would do, because they’d just panic; Takaki wouldn’t be awake at this time, Inoo would freak out even more than the whole of Seven combined and Daiki would probably spend the entire time trying to figure out if Yabu was pulling his leg), he finally figured that his best choice would be Hikaru, because 1) Hikaru had the highest chance of listening to him so early in the morning, 2) Hikaru probably would do his best to understand his predicament and possibly help him and 3) Hikaru had the least chance of running through the streets screaming for a doctor to “save Yabu-chan from his girliness”.
It took a while for Hikaru to answer his phone, and after listening to the annoying jingle characteristic to Docomo subscribers for half a minute, Yabu was ready to fling his phone at the wall (he suspected it was a possible onset of PMS that gave him such violent tendencies), and just as he was ready to put the damn mobile out of its misery, Hikaru’s voice crackled over the line, murmuring a “Hey ‘sup?” thick with sleep.
Yabu had initially congratulated himself on having kept calm throughout the morning’s ordeal, but the moment he heard himself say “Hikaru -” with a brand-new feminine lilt to his voice, he screamed.