Chapter 16
It had been a day for nervousness and fear, Issei reflected to himself as they stood in the long line outside the club. The implied length of the wait to get in had dismayed Sakura, but Issei had been just as glad; every moment spent in line was a moment when he wasn't inside trying to pretend he was a girl. In line, nobody really bothered to look twice at him, but inside it would be a different story.
Of course, every moment they stood here was another moment for him to turn over the same thoughts in his mind, causing more and more anxiety with each repetition. He was about ready to throw up just from sheer nerves; if he'd thought checking to see if he'd placed well in the exams was bad, this was a million times worse.
"I can't do this," he said to Sakura yet again. She just gave him a warm smile and squeezed the hand he was clinging to. "I can't!" he insisted. It was becoming a refrain almost as repetitive as the one in his head telling him he was an idiot for even thinking about trying this. "Please, Sakura, can't we just go home?"
"Not until we've spent at least half an hour inside," she replied, the same answer she'd given every time he'd begged to leave. "You promised to give this a fair shot, Issei."
He gave her a despairing look, and shivered, as much from the cold as from nerves. The skirt she'd coaxed him into only came to his knees, and he was learning that nylons were no defence against the chill late night wind that was blowing down the street. The loose, silky blouse he was wearing had short sleeves as well, but he had a light jacket on over it, at least.
"I can't do this, I can't do this," he chanted under his breath, closing his eyes and focusing on the crushing grip he had on her hand. Maybe if he clutched hard enough she'd understand how frightening this was for him, and let him go home.
"You can do this," her warm voice contradicted him gently. "Issei, stop worrying. You look fantastic. Every guy who walks by is checking you out." She took his hand in both of her to give better skin contact, and projected reassurance at him. Leaning in so that only he would be able to hear her, she added, "The long wig and the makeup were only the icing on the cake. You were already good enough to pass. With them, you just look stunning." She stepped back again, and freed one hand to slap him lightly on the shoulder. "So stop fretting and just relax and enjoy yourself!"
He opened his eyes and gave her an incredulous look, to which she merely smiled in return. Enjoy himself? How was he supposed to enjoy himself when he was spending every moment just waiting for the axe to fall? For someone to point and say 'Oh my gods, that's a guy!', or even just to have a couple of beefy jocks drag him off to try to beat the shit out of him. He was in no way relaxed, and he was most certainly not enjoying himself!
Even he had to admit that Sakura had wrought a miracle on him, though. She'd taken him to a large shopping mall, saying it was more impersonal, and dragged him in and out of stores until they were both ready to collapse. When they'd gotten home she'd forbidden him to look in a mirror until she was done with him. She wouldn't even let him go to his own room to change so that he couldn't sneak a peek. Once he was dressed she'd fussed over the wig and makeup, until finally she'd let him see himself.
The change had been amazing. He'd stood there for a good five minutes, just staring at his reflection, feeling oddly at peace with the image for the first time in his life. He did look quite a bit like Enju, though the modern clothes and black hair of the wig skewed the perception somewhat. More importantly, though, instead of looking like an awkwardly effeminate boy, he'd looked like a pretty, feminine woman.
In the privacy of her room, with the shock of it still upon him, he'd been ecstatically happy and more than willing to agree to go wherever she wanted for their 'girls' night out', as she'd taken to calling it. Now that he was actually out in public, with strangers all around him, the initial euphoria had faded and left only terror in its wake.
"Relax," she chided him once more, tugging on his hand to make him pay attention to her. "You're going to be fine, but if you don't relax, you're going to give yourself a migraine from all that tension!"
"If I get a migraine, can we go home?" he asked hopefully, though he didn't really expect her to go for it.
As he'd thought, she shook her head and laughed softly. "No. You'll just have to suffer through it for half an hour. Assuming we ever get inside," she added, frowning in the direction of the door. The line wasn't exactly moving quickly; they'd progressed perhaps a foot or two in the hour they'd been waiting.
Well, not getting in wouldn't be so bad. Here he could hide himself behind Sakura and the wall, and with his head ducked a bit, the long hair of the wig hid his face. Inside he'd be exposed, vulnerable. If they were stuck in line long enough, eventually Sakura's natural impatience would get the better of her, and she'd give up.
At the front of the line a minor commotion began, feelings of both smug satisfaction and angry disappointment filtering back to Issei. Wondering what on earth would cause that particular distribution of emotions within the same crowd, Issei leaned out a bit, trying to see.
"What is it?" Sakura asked, noticing the direction of his gaze. "Are they letting people in?"
"The line's not moving," he pointed out, trying to make sense of the milling people at the front of the line. And, he realize, now a little farther back along the line as well. The spikes of emotion were moving like a wave, rolling back from the front of the line towards them. "Something's coming this way that has people agitated," he said.
A few moments later they saw the source of the disturbance; one of the bouncers was moving along the line, pointing to people and indicating that they could go inside. Small wonder some people were happy, and most others irritated. He wondered what criteria they were basing the selection on.
It didn't take him long to figure it out; the people he was picking out of the line were the prettiest girls. A few shook their heads at the offer and clung to their boyfriends; most squealed and ducked out of line, heading quickly for the door. Issei's eyes widened and he gripped Sakura's hand tighter yet as the bouncer neared them. He wouldn't. Surely he wouldn't. Would he?
He did. He pointed right at the two of them and jerked his thumb at the door. "Yes!" Sakura exclaimed, bouncing and tugging Issei out of the line. "C'mon, let's go, before he changes his mind!"
"I've already changed my mind," Issei reminded her in a last ditch effort to convince her to let him go home where it was safe. "Please, Sakura..."
"Half an hour," she replied firmly, and the last of his hopes of escape were crushed as she dragged him up to the stairs and through the door.
Inside it was immediately obvious why the bouncer had been singling out the pretty girls; even with the fresh influx, the men still outnumbered the women by quite a bit. Several of the men inside had realized that everyone coming through the door at the moment was an attractive girl, and they'd lined up to whistle and hoot appreciatively at each new entrant.
They were no less enthusiastic in their praise for Issei and Sakura than they had been for the other girls, which make Sakura blush prettily, and Issei want to die. If they had any idea who - or rather, what - they were applauding.... they'd kill me. Just flat out kill me, for daring to cause them to 'compromise their manhood'.
Yet even as the thought made him shiver nervously, he had to admit that some part of him was revelling in the attention. For the first time in his life, he was getting truly positive attention for his looks from other guys. He felt slightly deceitful, dressing as a woman to 'fool' them into paying attention to him. At the same time, however, he felt as if he was being truthful for the first time in his life. This is who he wanted to be. Genetically male or not, this is who he was.
"Come on!" Sakura cried, dragging him out to the dance floor. Oddly, he felt safer there; in the pulsing lights and press of bodies, it was hard to make out details of anyone's face or bodies. Certainly nobody would be able to hear the still masculine quality to his voice over the music.
Still, he stayed close to Sakura and tried not to bounce too much; the last thing he needed was to have the stuffing fall out of the bra she'd convinced him to wear. Nothing would give him away faster, dim lighting or not.
By the time they had worked up a thirst, Issei was starting to relax, just a bit. There had been no shocked cries or exclamations of discovery, no pointing fingers or nasty looks. He'd even been hit on by several cute guys, though he'd turned them all down. In absolutely no way was he ready to attempt another relationship with anybody, male or female.
The attention was getting to him, though; he could feel the admiration of the men and even the occasional spike of jealousy from the women. He was being accepted for what he appeared to be. It was liberating, even as it frightened him.
Sakura ordered drinks for them both, handing Issei his favourite cider. He drained half the bottle in one gulp, sweaty and overheated from the exertion of dancing. "So, we've been here for over an hour," she remarked with a grin when he lowered the bottle again. "You still want to go home?"
Startled, he stared at her, then grabbed her wrist to glance at her watch. His was too obviously a man's watch, so he hadn't been able to wear it. To his shock, he saw that it was indeed more than an hour since they'd entered the bar.
"I didn't realize," he confessed, much to her amusement. "I... no, I guess I don't really want to go home."
Saying it aloud forced him to admit to himself that, despite his nerves, he was actually having a good time. A slow grin broke over his face, then turned into a sincere laugh, bubbling up from deep inside him. Then it was Sakura's turn to be startled as gulped the rest of his cider, set the bottle down on the bar, and swept her into a tight hug.
"Thank you," he murmured into her ear, feeling her heart pounding almost in time with his. "Thank you so much, Sakura. I never would have done this on my own."
"You're welcome," she replied, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He sensed a brief stab of sorrow from her for chances lost, but on the whole she was elated for him.
"You do realize that this just gives me an excuse to drag you to the mall again tomorrow and buy you more clothes?" she teased him after a moment, pulling away. She kept her hands on his shoulders, though, holding him as she looked up into his eyes with a gamine grin. "You can't keep borrowing my stuff. Most of it is completely the wrong colour for you - and I get jealous every time I see you in any of it, because it looks so much better on you than it does on me!"
He knew he ought to object to her spending so much money on him, but the fact was, he didn't have any of his own. And she was right, he couldn't keep stealing her clothes. He realized with dawning surprise that he was already thinking as if he were actually going to carry this through, to start dressing like a woman in such a way that he'd need more than one or two changes of clothes. Apparently his subconscious had made up his mind for him while his front brain was still dithering.
"What girl have you ever met would turn down a free shopping spree?" he said lightly. Her eyes went wide; she'd obviously been expecting to have to argue him into it. He gave her a slightly wavering smile. "I think... maybe... I can really do this," he concluded, his voice wavering even more than his smile. He cleared his throat, embarrassed at how nervous he sounded.
She hugged him again, then pulled away completely and turned back to the bar. "Well. A decision that momentous obviously calls for a drink. And then more dancing!" She smirked at him, and he laughed.
"You're absolutely incorrigible, you realize that?" he asked her, ruffling her hair. She snickered.
"Would you want me any other way?" she retorted, the smirk turning into a cocky grin.
"Absolutely not," he said firmly. "You're my best friend, and I like you just the way you are." That earned him a truly brilliant smile, and he felt the last of the emotional walls between them dropping away. There would always be a sense of bittersweet regret in their relationship, of chances wasted and possibilities denied, but Issei finally felt as if he had his friend back again.
"I'll drink to that," she answered him, and saluted him with her second bottle. He just smiled in return, content and happy for the first time he could ever remember.
It had been a day for nervousness and fear, Issei reflected to himself as they stood in the long line outside the club. The implied length of the wait to get in had dismayed Sakura, but Issei had been just as glad; every moment spent in line was a moment when he wasn't inside trying to pretend he was a girl. In line, nobody really bothered to look twice at him, but inside it would be a different story.
Of course, every moment they stood here was another moment for him to turn over the same thoughts in his mind, causing more and more anxiety with each repetition. He was about ready to throw up just from sheer nerves; if he'd thought checking to see if he'd placed well in the exams was bad, this was a million times worse.
"I can't do this," he said to Sakura yet again. She just gave him a warm smile and squeezed the hand he was clinging to. "I can't!" he insisted. It was becoming a refrain almost as repetitive as the one in his head telling him he was an idiot for even thinking about trying this. "Please, Sakura, can't we just go home?"
"Not until we've spent at least half an hour inside," she replied, the same answer she'd given every time he'd begged to leave. "You promised to give this a fair shot, Issei."
He gave her a despairing look, and shivered, as much from the cold as from nerves. The skirt she'd coaxed him into only came to his knees, and he was learning that nylons were no defence against the chill late night wind that was blowing down the street. The loose, silky blouse he was wearing had short sleeves as well, but he had a light jacket on over it, at least.
"I can't do this, I can't do this," he chanted under his breath, closing his eyes and focusing on the crushing grip he had on her hand. Maybe if he clutched hard enough she'd understand how frightening this was for him, and let him go home.
"You can do this," her warm voice contradicted him gently. "Issei, stop worrying. You look fantastic. Every guy who walks by is checking you out." She took his hand in both of her to give better skin contact, and projected reassurance at him. Leaning in so that only he would be able to hear her, she added, "The long wig and the makeup were only the icing on the cake. You were already good enough to pass. With them, you just look stunning." She stepped back again, and freed one hand to slap him lightly on the shoulder. "So stop fretting and just relax and enjoy yourself!"
He opened his eyes and gave her an incredulous look, to which she merely smiled in return. Enjoy himself? How was he supposed to enjoy himself when he was spending every moment just waiting for the axe to fall? For someone to point and say 'Oh my gods, that's a guy!', or even just to have a couple of beefy jocks drag him off to try to beat the shit out of him. He was in no way relaxed, and he was most certainly not enjoying himself!
Even he had to admit that Sakura had wrought a miracle on him, though. She'd taken him to a large shopping mall, saying it was more impersonal, and dragged him in and out of stores until they were both ready to collapse. When they'd gotten home she'd forbidden him to look in a mirror until she was done with him. She wouldn't even let him go to his own room to change so that he couldn't sneak a peek. Once he was dressed she'd fussed over the wig and makeup, until finally she'd let him see himself.
The change had been amazing. He'd stood there for a good five minutes, just staring at his reflection, feeling oddly at peace with the image for the first time in his life. He did look quite a bit like Enju, though the modern clothes and black hair of the wig skewed the perception somewhat. More importantly, though, instead of looking like an awkwardly effeminate boy, he'd looked like a pretty, feminine woman.
In the privacy of her room, with the shock of it still upon him, he'd been ecstatically happy and more than willing to agree to go wherever she wanted for their 'girls' night out', as she'd taken to calling it. Now that he was actually out in public, with strangers all around him, the initial euphoria had faded and left only terror in its wake.
"Relax," she chided him once more, tugging on his hand to make him pay attention to her. "You're going to be fine, but if you don't relax, you're going to give yourself a migraine from all that tension!"
"If I get a migraine, can we go home?" he asked hopefully, though he didn't really expect her to go for it.
As he'd thought, she shook her head and laughed softly. "No. You'll just have to suffer through it for half an hour. Assuming we ever get inside," she added, frowning in the direction of the door. The line wasn't exactly moving quickly; they'd progressed perhaps a foot or two in the hour they'd been waiting.
Well, not getting in wouldn't be so bad. Here he could hide himself behind Sakura and the wall, and with his head ducked a bit, the long hair of the wig hid his face. Inside he'd be exposed, vulnerable. If they were stuck in line long enough, eventually Sakura's natural impatience would get the better of her, and she'd give up.
At the front of the line a minor commotion began, feelings of both smug satisfaction and angry disappointment filtering back to Issei. Wondering what on earth would cause that particular distribution of emotions within the same crowd, Issei leaned out a bit, trying to see.
"What is it?" Sakura asked, noticing the direction of his gaze. "Are they letting people in?"
"The line's not moving," he pointed out, trying to make sense of the milling people at the front of the line. And, he realize, now a little farther back along the line as well. The spikes of emotion were moving like a wave, rolling back from the front of the line towards them. "Something's coming this way that has people agitated," he said.
A few moments later they saw the source of the disturbance; one of the bouncers was moving along the line, pointing to people and indicating that they could go inside. Small wonder some people were happy, and most others irritated. He wondered what criteria they were basing the selection on.
It didn't take him long to figure it out; the people he was picking out of the line were the prettiest girls. A few shook their heads at the offer and clung to their boyfriends; most squealed and ducked out of line, heading quickly for the door. Issei's eyes widened and he gripped Sakura's hand tighter yet as the bouncer neared them. He wouldn't. Surely he wouldn't. Would he?
He did. He pointed right at the two of them and jerked his thumb at the door. "Yes!" Sakura exclaimed, bouncing and tugging Issei out of the line. "C'mon, let's go, before he changes his mind!"
"I've already changed my mind," Issei reminded her in a last ditch effort to convince her to let him go home where it was safe. "Please, Sakura..."
"Half an hour," she replied firmly, and the last of his hopes of escape were crushed as she dragged him up to the stairs and through the door.
Inside it was immediately obvious why the bouncer had been singling out the pretty girls; even with the fresh influx, the men still outnumbered the women by quite a bit. Several of the men inside had realized that everyone coming through the door at the moment was an attractive girl, and they'd lined up to whistle and hoot appreciatively at each new entrant.
They were no less enthusiastic in their praise for Issei and Sakura than they had been for the other girls, which make Sakura blush prettily, and Issei want to die. If they had any idea who - or rather, what - they were applauding.... they'd kill me. Just flat out kill me, for daring to cause them to 'compromise their manhood'.
Yet even as the thought made him shiver nervously, he had to admit that some part of him was revelling in the attention. For the first time in his life, he was getting truly positive attention for his looks from other guys. He felt slightly deceitful, dressing as a woman to 'fool' them into paying attention to him. At the same time, however, he felt as if he was being truthful for the first time in his life. This is who he wanted to be. Genetically male or not, this is who he was.
"Come on!" Sakura cried, dragging him out to the dance floor. Oddly, he felt safer there; in the pulsing lights and press of bodies, it was hard to make out details of anyone's face or bodies. Certainly nobody would be able to hear the still masculine quality to his voice over the music.
Still, he stayed close to Sakura and tried not to bounce too much; the last thing he needed was to have the stuffing fall out of the bra she'd convinced him to wear. Nothing would give him away faster, dim lighting or not.
By the time they had worked up a thirst, Issei was starting to relax, just a bit. There had been no shocked cries or exclamations of discovery, no pointing fingers or nasty looks. He'd even been hit on by several cute guys, though he'd turned them all down. In absolutely no way was he ready to attempt another relationship with anybody, male or female.
The attention was getting to him, though; he could feel the admiration of the men and even the occasional spike of jealousy from the women. He was being accepted for what he appeared to be. It was liberating, even as it frightened him.
Sakura ordered drinks for them both, handing Issei his favourite cider. He drained half the bottle in one gulp, sweaty and overheated from the exertion of dancing. "So, we've been here for over an hour," she remarked with a grin when he lowered the bottle again. "You still want to go home?"
Startled, he stared at her, then grabbed her wrist to glance at her watch. His was too obviously a man's watch, so he hadn't been able to wear it. To his shock, he saw that it was indeed more than an hour since they'd entered the bar.
"I didn't realize," he confessed, much to her amusement. "I... no, I guess I don't really want to go home."
Saying it aloud forced him to admit to himself that, despite his nerves, he was actually having a good time. A slow grin broke over his face, then turned into a sincere laugh, bubbling up from deep inside him. Then it was Sakura's turn to be startled as gulped the rest of his cider, set the bottle down on the bar, and swept her into a tight hug.
"Thank you," he murmured into her ear, feeling her heart pounding almost in time with his. "Thank you so much, Sakura. I never would have done this on my own."
"You're welcome," she replied, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He sensed a brief stab of sorrow from her for chances lost, but on the whole she was elated for him.
"You do realize that this just gives me an excuse to drag you to the mall again tomorrow and buy you more clothes?" she teased him after a moment, pulling away. She kept her hands on his shoulders, though, holding him as she looked up into his eyes with a gamine grin. "You can't keep borrowing my stuff. Most of it is completely the wrong colour for you - and I get jealous every time I see you in any of it, because it looks so much better on you than it does on me!"
He knew he ought to object to her spending so much money on him, but the fact was, he didn't have any of his own. And she was right, he couldn't keep stealing her clothes. He realized with dawning surprise that he was already thinking as if he were actually going to carry this through, to start dressing like a woman in such a way that he'd need more than one or two changes of clothes. Apparently his subconscious had made up his mind for him while his front brain was still dithering.
"What girl have you ever met would turn down a free shopping spree?" he said lightly. Her eyes went wide; she'd obviously been expecting to have to argue him into it. He gave her a slightly wavering smile. "I think... maybe... I can really do this," he concluded, his voice wavering even more than his smile. He cleared his throat, embarrassed at how nervous he sounded.
She hugged him again, then pulled away completely and turned back to the bar. "Well. A decision that momentous obviously calls for a drink. And then more dancing!" She smirked at him, and he laughed.
"You're absolutely incorrigible, you realize that?" he asked her, ruffling her hair. She snickered.
"Would you want me any other way?" she retorted, the smirk turning into a cocky grin.
"Absolutely not," he said firmly. "You're my best friend, and I like you just the way you are." That earned him a truly brilliant smile, and he felt the last of the emotional walls between them dropping away. There would always be a sense of bittersweet regret in their relationship, of chances wasted and possibilities denied, but Issei finally felt as if he had his friend back again.
"I'll drink to that," she answered him, and saluted him with her second bottle. He just smiled in return, content and happy for the first time he could ever remember.