Disclaimer/Note: I do not own Pretty Face or any of the characters involved in this story. They belong to the manga's creator, Yasuhiro Kano, and no copyright infringement was intended. This story was written solely for the amusement of those choosing to read it, and no money was made from its creation. All original concepts used in this story are original (duh). Do not steal. This story takes place after the end of the manga, and contains some realism and spoilers for the series. Also, it is unbeta'd.

For Her

Musashi Rando was standing in the room that had been his for a little over a year now, turning to examine the walls and décor. He had spent so long living as a girl that even he could not tell that a boy slept and studied here every night. The floor was clean, his clothes folded neatly and put away, the desk tidy and books organized alphabetically. There were no dirty dishes, no scattered papers or magazines, no gym clothes that reeked of two day old sweat and grime. He nodded his head approvingly, proud of himself for mastering the art of maintaining a girly room. Rando walked over to the desk, pulling the chair out and sitting down. He regarded the panda planter and the short bamboo stalk that grew out of it, the flowered calendar above the desk, and cutesy pink pens in the wireframe holder in the upper left hand corner. He sighed, leaning back in the seat and slouching miserably.

It was no good.

No matter how feminine the room, no matter how girly he tried to dress or what color of lacy underwear he started wearing, it just was not working anymore. While he had never thought of himself as having been an effeminate man, he was coming to realize that as he got older, it was harder and harder to pretend to be a girl. His voice was getting lower, rougher, and more masculine. Midori had mentioned it the other day during lunch when Rando had told Yukie that she was reading too far into the things her boyfriend said.

His voice was not the only thing that was changing. It seemed like his whole body was against him. He had spent so much of the last year beating up guy after guy that he was starting to build up muscles again. His arms and legs were not as slender and girly as they had been at the beginning of his junior year as Kurimi Yuna. Worse yet, his pectorals were starting to regain some of their previous definition; sometimes, he felt that the only reason that he had been saved from being found out was because of his fake breasts, which hid the muscle tone.

And then there was the hair.

Rando's natural hair color was black, and while Dr. Manabe had told him that he would not have to worry about grow out or different colored roots for the hair on his head, there was really nothing that could be done about the hair everywhere else on his body. Rando grimaced just thinking about it. He had to use special creams and bleach kits for the hair on his arms, stomach, and upper lip which would have grown out thick and black if left unattended. Everyday, he had to shave his legs and underarms, and each morning he carefully managed his bushy brows. And, as if all that was somehow not bad enough, he had to have Dr. Manabe help him wax his back every so often.

". . .My life sucks," he groaned, letting his body fall forward, his forehead thumping against the desk top. Rando closed his eyes, thinking back to the days before the bus accident that had burned away his original face and, with it, his true identity. Back then, no matter how miserable and petty his high school days had been, no matter how friendless and generally disliked Musashi Rando had been, it had at least been easy. He did not have to worry and fret about his feet getting bigger, about whether or not he knew what was in style and what was yesterday's fashion; he did not have to concern himself with his grades and appearance, did not have to sit carefully in chairs or keep an eye out for the occasional stray breeze that threatened to flip his skirt up and expose him, once and for all. Back when he was just Musashi Rando—

He abruptly cut that line of thinking off with a groan. What did it matter what he missed from his days as Musashi Rando, from the weeks and months before the accident? He had made a promise to the real Kurimi Yuna that he would stay this way until she came back. That day was soon approaching, too; this was Rina's and his senior year, after all. Soon, the real Yuna would come back from that beauty school in Tokyo, and he would not have any more of these happy days with his beloved Rina. He would not be able to ever show his true face around Rina again, either.

The truth, no matter how sick and depraved it may have seemed, Rando did not mind being Kurimi Yuna. Yuna had a wonderful family that cared deeply for her, she was pretty and easily liked by all, and—most importantly—she was the one person that Rina loved more than anything. He would miss his days as Yuna once they were gone, regardless of how obnoxious and time-consuming keeping this façade up was.

"This is the last year, and then. . ." Rando trailed off, clenching his hands into fists on top of his thighs. And then what? And then he had to go back to being a boy? He was going to have spent nearly two years as a girl; did he really think that it would be so easy to go back to just being Rando? There was no family, no friends, and no home to return to. What, exactly, did 'going back to being Rando' mean, anyway? Rando thumped his forehead against the desk again, as if perhaps a serious head injury would grant him all the answers. Just what was he going to do, once these peaceful days were over? Did he have any dreams left, other than seeing Rina happy? Did he have any plans for the future? "I'm so screwed. . ."

"Big sister, what's wrong?" the concerned voice came from the doorway, and Rando jerked up in his seat so fast that he almost fell backwards. Rina was standing in the entrance to his room uncertainly, her hand on the door frame, brows knit with worry, and the corners of her pretty mouth turned down in a frown. Rando offered her a large, cheesy grin that felt too tight on his face, his hands immediately coming up in the gesture of spastic dismissal that he used so often when talking to her.

"Huh? Oh, no! N-no-nothing, Rina-chan!" he babbled in a rush, pitching his voice up slightly higher than usual on accident while trying to force a laugh. Rando stood, covering the space between his desk and the door in only a few steps as he quickly walked over to her. Had his room always been so small, his mind wondered idly as he placed a reassuring hand on Rina's thin shoulder. He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. The last thing he needed right now was to have Rina worrying over him. "There's, uh, there's definitely nothing wrong with me, okay? What's up? Did you need something?"

Rina did not look convinced, but the worry was soon replaced by confusion as she looked up to meet Rando's gaze.

Wait a minute.

Looked up? Since when had Rina needed to look upto look him in the eye? Rando had never been a very tall boy; at eighteen, he had been a mere 5'3" with no growth spurt in sight. Sure, he had been feeling sore and his joints had been aching for the last few weeks, but that did not mean that he had—

"Have you gotten taller, big sister?"

Rando eyes widened, a look of horror crossing his face. His lips parted slightly as the tension in his jaw slackened, and he straightened his bad posture for just one moment to assess whether or not that statement was true. Much to his shock, it was; Rando had finally gotten taller. It seemed like only yesterday he had been just slightly taller than Rina, maybe an inch, but certainly no more. Now, he felt like he was towering over her, her gaze level with his chin. The experience made him feel oddly masculine, a feeling he had not had for quite some time. Rando was mortified. Rina's confusion only seemed to increase as she tried to make sense of Rando's reaction.

"Big sist—"

"I gotta go!" Rando practically yelled the statement, pushing past her and barreling down the stairs at a breakneck speed. He barely paused to throw his shoes on before he was out the door and running towards Dr. Manabe's clinic. Dr. Manabe would know what to do about this. Dr. Manabe would have the answer to this problem and would fix it. That is what doctors were for, right?

"Make it stop."

"You're a boy, Rando," Dr. Manabe sighed, rubbing at his temple with one hand. "And this is just what boys do. This is just a natural growth spurt; you're supposed to shoot up later in your adolescent life, you know. I'm surprised that you haven't had one yet."

"Well, I don't want it anymore!" Rando exclaimed urgently, twisting the bottom of his shirt in his hands. He was really worried about this. Dr. Manabe shook his head, and said nothing. "Look, you crackpot: if Yuna comes back, and tries to take my place, people are going to notice that she shrunk. There's gotta be something that you can do! There's other stuff that's causing problems, too. . ."

"Rando, I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker," Dr. Manabe reminded him gently, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a seat on the edge of his desk. He continued wistfully. "There's only so much that I can do. If you're talking about your voice, and the way that your body holds onto muscle mass, the best that I can do is give you drug therapy, and if you're going to do that, then you might as well just let me turn you into a women completely. Because drug therapy will permanently alter your body's chemistry, and you will never be able to be a 'normal' boy afterwards."

"No way. . ." Rando murmured past numb lips, sinking down to his knees on the clinic floor. His pretty face was a mask of unreadable emotions. Manabe narrowed his eyes, unsure of the heavy feeling growing in his gut with each passing moment. "Bu-. . .but, what am I supposed to do?"

Dr. Manabe shrugged, uncrossing his arms to reach across the desk for his day-planner. He examined it for a moment, looking for his next free day. Somehow, he felt like he knew where this was headed and, strangely, he did not like it. His next free day was in a few weeks; he made a mental note to pencil Rando's name in when he got the chance. In the meantime, he tried to appeal to Rando's logic, if the boy had any. "Maybe you should call the real Yuna, and tell her that she needs to come back. There really isn't anything else that we can do, short of drastic surgery."

Rando swallowed hard, dropping his head and staring pointedly at the tiles. They were silent for a long time. Dr. Manabe imagined that he knew what was going on behind the troubled gaze that he could not see anymore. Rando had made a promise; this was the last year that he had with Rina, and it had only been a few months since Yuna had gone back to Tokyo. The boy had a lot of pride, for someone wearing a woman's face and skirt. "I. . .I said that I would do anything for Rina-chan. . .if it'll keep her happy, I'd sacrifice anything. . ."

"Rando?" the doctor said it as softly as he could. They were treading on dangerous water now. And while Dr. Manabe had always wanted Rando to embrace life as a woman, he did not want to see the boy agree to the procedure if he was just going to hate himself once the year was up. Rando's shoulders began to shake, his whole body quivering as the boy was wracked by silent sobs. Dr. Manabe looked away politely, wanting to help Rando salvage some of his masculinity and dignity before the boy sold those in the name of love.

"Dr. Manabe?" the boy choked out, rubbing a sleeve over his face to wipe away the tears. Dr. Manabe closed his eyes, not wanting to see the sorrow or hopelessness that he knew would be evident on that pretty face he had given the boy as he listened to Rando's next words with a heavy heart. "I. . .I'll go through with the operation. I know that it can't ever be undone, but I have to do this for Rina-chan. Please. . .please—"

The boy cut himself off with a broken cry, his hand clamping over his mouth in a vain attempt to hide the source of that uncomfortable sound. Dr. Manabe shook his head in dismay. He had never thought that he would be so disappointed to hear those words. . .