A/N: Well, it is 10:23 pm by my watch and still technically Labor Day weekend, so I think I met my self-inflicted deadline of two updates this weekend.
And yeah, we're gonna keep this rated M.
yese0721: We are on the same wavelength! I had the exact same idea. It's coming up soon. Round one is in this chapter, but I expect there to be a round two later in the story. Also, I can't believe you're still here with me! Thank you for following me so loyally.
Enjoy and review!
Standard Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon. Sailor Moon and all characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi.
Mamoru
By the time I reached my apartment building, my blouse had become soaked through with sweat. Translucent circles stained the white fabric under my arms and I could feel the droplets pooling between Usagi's breasts, occasionally slipping out and traveling down to my navel. If I hadn't been so afraid that I was going out of my goddamn mind, I might have been more infatuated by the sensation. As it was, I couldn't shake the searing memory of the talking cat that had burned itself into my brain.
Where the hell was Odango? She somehow managed to disrupt my days always at the most inconvenient times, but when I actually needed her, she was nowhere to be found.
I waited outside the door to my apartment, unable to enter without my key, which was in Usagi's possession. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I fell against the wall and slid to the ground. My thick bangs were matted with sweat and clung to my forehead in a most infuriating way. It made my skin itch and I felt like I couldn't breathe with her long hair suctioned to my neck and driving my temperature up even higher. In all of my frantic bouts of running today, (amazing how there could be more than one), the extensive locks had become one solid mass, tangled and impenetrable. I was at my wits end with this thing. Exasperated, I gathered the tresses into a giant knot on the top of my head and shoved the bangs back unceremoniously, the sweat and grime serving as a mousse of sorts, holding the style together. Usagi was going to kill me for it, but not if I killed her first.
I mean, how could she neglect to tell me she had a freaking talking cat!? Or maybe I was actually going insane. I didn't particularly care for either possibility.
"Hey."
I jumped at the sound of my own voice emanating from somewhere outside of my body. How long was it going to take before I got used to that? Usagi had just emerged from the elevator and was now headed in my direction.
"Hey?" I echoed, my voice climbing to an anomalous pitch as I rose to my feet. "Hey? Your damn cat talks to me and all you have to say is hey!?"
She froze halfway down the hall, body hard and rigid, eyes looking like they were about to pop out of her head. Then she forced a nervous laugh, too high for my natural baritone, and resumed her advance.
"What are you talking about? Cats don't talk." I could detect the lie in her voice as easy as spotting her odangos in a crowd.
So I wasn't crazy after all. She arrived at the door beside me and unlocked it, ignoring my venomous glare. She let herself in and I followed, resenting the fact that she was now bigger and taller than I was and I couldn't intimidate her the way I usually did. And that she was the one letting me into my apartment.
"Well, yours did. Twice, actually. It talked to me this morning and again just now," I seethed.
She gave me a look of obviously feigned ignorance. "You're imagining things, Baka. The stress of today must really be getting to you. Why don't you go take a nap?" She continued into the kitchen, not bothering to wait for a reply. I threw the overnight bag down in the genkan and I stalked her, my anger and anxiety unrelenting and now fueled by her dismissal.
"Like hell I'm stressed! But I'm not imagining things! I know it sounds crazy, but I know that cat talked to me. And I know you know what I'm talking about!" I seized her arm and yanked her around to face me, surprised at the amount of effort it took to move such a large frame in this wisp of a body.
She looked down at me from my own slightly narrowed eyes, lips twisted haughtily to the side.
"Really, Odango?" she quipped. "A talking cat? Now you really have gone hysterical. It's no wonder you get such bad grades. You can't even separate your delusions from reality."
Rage boiled in my blood, heating every inch of me from my toes to the birds nest on top of my scalp. Usagi's body reacted to anger differently than mine did. It was like my very skin was going to melt off from the fire inside of me and I began to shake, my hands balling into fists as I struggled not to rip my hair out at the roots. And then, to my shock and horror, tears began to prick at the corners of my eyes. She watched my flooding emotion with an irritating smirk.
"It feels bad, doesn't it?" she said.
That gave me pause. All this time, all these years I had been teasing and fighting with Usagi, and I had never really considered how it affected her. Honestly, I thought most of it was playful. I didn't realize how deeply my words could affect her. And now, even with my mind in the driver's seat, the reaction was so deeply engrained in her body that now I was experiencing it myself firsthand. And it did feel bad. I felt bad. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and brushed away the tears before they could spill over.
She sighed and turned away from me, opening the cabinet above the fridge and handing me a chocolate bar.
"Here, this will help. Trust me." She took another one for herself and unwrapped it, biting off a mouthful. She nodded at me to do the same.
I obeyed and ate the chocolate. It did help. The mellow, nutty flavor melted over my tongue and seemed to flow down into the aching cavity in my chest, issuing calming effect. It was almost as good as eating chocolate in my own body. Almost.
We ate in silence, leaning against opposite counters, the only sounds the crinkling of the foil wrappings. When both bars had disappeared, she returned to gaze to me, roaming over my whole appearance.
"You're a mess," she surmised.
"No shit."
"We need to take care of that hair."
"We need to talk about that cat."
She made an odd noise in the back of her throat. "I can't talk about that."
"What do you mean you can't talk about it?" I demanded, incredulous. How could she possibly expect me to accept that answer?
She groaned and turned her back to me, folding over the counter and burying her head in her arms. After a moment of grumbling, she answered.
"Yes, Luna can talk. But I can't tell you why or how. My family doesn't even know about it." She was obviously distraught, most of her words coming out in a low mumble from behind her bodily barricade.
"Who's soul did you sell to get that cat to talk?"
She huffed and lifted her head, peering at me with one eyebrow raised. "You think I'm a witch?"
"Honestly, it's the most reasonable explanation when you think about it," I said with a shrug. "A body switching spell, a black cat that talks, not to mention your spooky hairstyle."
"I don't think you're one to talk about spooky hairstyles right now," she countered, eyeing the knot in my hair again. For a quiet moment, we both grinned at each other, the last remaining tension of our spat fading away.
"You're really not going to tell me about the cat?" I pressed.
Her grin turned sad but lingered on her lips. "Sorry. Maybe later. But not today."
I couldn't understand why I was willing to let the subject drop, but something in her tone of voice and her wary eyes tugged at something else in my chest and I almost felt sad for her. It had been a long day for the both of us. Maybe I just wanted to avoid any more tension today. I was exhausted and there were still other things to discuss and figure out before we turned in for the night.
The sun was beginning to set below the Tokyo skyline, shooting warm, horizontal rays in through my windows. The room was illuminated with the colors of sunset, oranges and pinks painting whimsical patterns across the bare walls, and the distant sound of the evening traffic floated around us.
This was the first time I had had a girl in my apartment. Well, aside from earlier today. I was a fairly private person, even more so when it came to girls. I was still a mystery to myself, so how could I possibly build anything meaningful with someone else? But I had pictured it, of course. I had imagined myself curled up on the couch with a beautiful girl in my arms, sharing secrets and stealing kisses, watching this very sunset and admiring the way it would glisten in her golden hair. I had pictured myself one day taking that girl to my bedroom and experiencing a night of first together. I had pictured my own arms wrapped around her tiny frame as she slept, waking up with her head on my chest in the morning, making breakfast together. There had never been a specific girl in those daydreams, but it knew it would be someone beautiful and kind, someone who saw beneath my crusty exterior and accepted my past, someone I could love with all the energy I had to give. And when I found that girl, it would be forever. I wasn't interested in dating around and playing the field. I wanted to find the one. The only one that would fit me. And I would be the only one for her.
A gentle touch against my head startled me and I realized I had been gazing across the room and out the window for some time. Usagi had wound her fingers into my hair and was examining the strands with a less than pleased expression.
"I probably destroyed your hair," I confessed. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's alright," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We just need to brush it out and give it a good wash." She was still assessing the hair, looking over my eyes as she spoke.
"Can you show me?"
Her eyes found mine. "Sure."
"Odango?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm really sweaty."
She dropped her hand from my hair. "I know."
"How would you like me to take care of that?"
Her face flushed bright scarlet from ear to ear and she stared down at her feet. "I don't know." This time, it was a whisper.
An idea occurred to me. If she didn't want me to see or touch her naked body, then that only left us with one option.
"Usagi. I'm going to ask you a question. And it's because I genuinely want you to feel safe and respected. I'm not making a joke or being a perv. Okay?" I lowered my head to find her gaze again it brought it back to mine, waiting for her acknowledgment before I continued.
"Okay..." she whined, obviously a little nervous.
"What if we washed each other?"
The flush returned to her face in full form and she began to stutter a protest, but I held my hands up for her to let me finish.
"If we washed each other, then we would only have to look at and touch our own bodies. And you would be present to hold me accountable and make sure I'm not doing anything funny."
She seemed to consider that. After a minute of deliberation, her crimson skin faded to a milder shade of rouge.
"Okay."
Usagi
"Okay? Are you sure?"
"Yes. I think you're right," I explained. "It's not ideal, but it's probably the best option, given the circumstances."
"Okay, then." He kept his voice level. "Can we do that now? Because you stink."
"Do you mean you me, or me me?" I asked
"What does that even mean, Ogando?" he groaned, turning out of the kitchen and heading toward the bedroom.
I followed him through the bedroom and into the massive bathroom, watching as he fetched fresh towels from a cupboard above the toilet.
"Which body stinks?" I clarified.
He tossed the towels over the rack next to the shower and then faced me, his nose winkled up in disgust. "Both. But they're both your fault."
"What! How is it my fault that you stink?" I hollered.
"Do you mean you me, or me me?" he mocked, a sly grin tugging at one corner of his mouth.
"Oh, shut up."
He chuckled and then, so quickly I almost did catch it, a flicker of nervousness showed on his face before he could recollect himself.
He cleared his throat. "So. Hair or shower first?"
"Hair," I answered instantly. I had to brush it out before I could wash it, but I also was not ready to be naked with Mamoru just yet.
"Right," he agreed. "Be right back."
He left me alone in the monochromatic room to face my fate. Literally. The giant shower was staring me in the face like a hurdle on field day. This was probably going to be the hardest and weirdest part of this whole ordeal, but I had a feeling that once we got past it, everything would be a lot easier and we would be much more comfortable with each other.
There was plenty of room inside the shower for both of us. In fact, there were two shower heads, one on either side, as if this shower was intended for two people to share it. And the clear, glass walls made for a perfect view of whoever was inside. What kind of cocky bastard owned a shower like this? One that probably had a different girl in there every weekend. It would definitely be easy for Mamoru to get any girl he wanted, and probably just as easy to do anything he wanted with them. I mean, take me for example. I was about to be naked in that shower with Mamoru. Granted it wasn't a very sexy situation, but I never pictured myself in there with him. Well. Maybe not never. But I never believed it could actually happen. Definitely never.
Mamoru returned then with my overnight bag in one hand and my hairbrush in the other.
"I tried to find all your toiletries," he explained.
"Looks like you managed alright."
"Wait until you've seen everything to make a judgement." He handed me the bag, averting his gaze sheepishly.
I took the bag and peeked inside. Uniform, socks, shampoo and conditioner, all of my skin products (including ones I didn't really need), underwear, toothbrush. Everything looked good. What was he so embarrassed about? Oh. It hit me. Bra and panties. He had gone through my underwear drawer and had to pick something out. I hadn't thought of that when I tasked him with gathering my clothes. He had chosen the plainest set I had, probably on purpose to spare me further embarrassment. But I knew what a mess that drawer was. I knew he had to have seen every single thing in there to find these. Even the sets I had never worn but were saving for some special guy some day. I fought to keep the blush from returning to my cheeks but failed miserably.
"Looks good," I croaked, my voice cracking on the last word the way boys' voices sometimes do when they're nervous. That was something that had never happened to me before. I'd have to look out for that. I cleared my throat, attempting to bring it back to a normal tone and not one that said "oh my god Mamoru just saw all of my underwear and in a few minutes he's going to see me totally naked."
"Why don't we sit and I'll brush your-my-hair?" I offered.
"Okay," he agreed with a nod and took a seat on the edge of the tub. I mirrored him and took the brush from his outstretched hand.
"I'm going to teach you how to do this so you can do it yourself, okay?"
"Okay," he repeated.
I released the hair from the torturous knot on top of his head and it tumbled awkwardly down his back. I sighed. My poor hair. And poor Mamoru. This wasn't going to be very comfortable.
"Start with the ends, just a little at a time, like this," I explained as I demonstrated, angling the hair so he could see. We continued like that, me teaching and Mamoru wincing, as we slowly straightened all of the knots from the hair.
"You must have a lot of patience to deal with that every day," he said as I ran the brush through the length of the locks one last time.
"It's not so bad," I murmured, feeling relatively normal for the first time all day. Brushing my actual hair had been relaxing and familiar. "Once you learn how to take care of it, it doesn't get knotted like that every day. I can teach you how to wear it at night and how to put it up in the buns, too."
"That might be a little advanced for me," he said lightheartedly.
"If you can do calculus, you can do hair," I assured him.
"Oh crap, calculus," he grimaced. "We're going to have to study tonight."
Dang it, I shouldn't have said anything. "Now that's going to be a little advanced for me."
"You'll do fine. I'll help you."
I wasn't used to him being so nice to me. We had been together for about an hour or so now without any bickering. That had to be some kind of record.
I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just sat quietly next to him as he ran his fingers through the now silky, but still dirty, strands.
"What do you think?" he asked. "Ready to wash?"
I gulped and felt my cheeks warming up again. "Yep."
"Okay."
He stood and opened the glass door of the shower, switched on the water, and held his hand in the stream to check the temperature. When he was satisfied, he withdrew his hand and turned to face me once more.
"Are you ready?"
I swallowed again, trying to force my nerves down with the lump behind my Adams apple to prevent my voice from cracking again and giving away just how not ready I was.
"As ready as I'll ever be," I said. It was true, at least.
"Do you want to take these off, or should I?" he asked, tugging on the hem of his blouse.
"You can do that part," I mumbled, looking away.
"Okay. You can do the same," he instructed.
I felt the familiar blush creeping back into my cheeks. It had been around so often today I was beginning to worry that it would become my new permanent complexion.
I fumbled with the buttons on my own shirt, trying my best not to look at the body I was trapped in. A difficult task, it turned out, as I noticed his glorious, tanned muscles peeking out between the buttons as I pulled at the fabric. Instead, I watched as Mamoru carefully and methodically removed the uniform he was wearing, first the blouse and then the skirt, dropping both into a hamper beneath the towel rack. I slipped the shirt off of my arms and tossed it to his open hands, then shakily removed the pants and tossed them over, too. He dumped both of them in the hamper as well and immediately returned his gaze to me. As much as I hated him watching me undress, it was better than the alternative. With a resigned sigh, and feeling utterly terrified, I slipped off the briefs I was wearing and hurled them at his stupid, stoic face before he could look at me. He fumbled, unable to catch them before the fabric successfully covered his stunned expression. This body had good aim. And mine had bad reflexes. I couldn't help but giggle at the contrast from our usual exchanges, the laughter working to calm the nerves that had arisen from being totally naked in front of him. It also helped that I knew he was looking at his own body and not mine. When he pulled the briefs from his face, he gave me a warning glare as he placed them in the hamper.
"You want me on your side, don't you?" he said, his voice full of caution. He reached behind his back for my bra clasp and wrestled with it for a minute. A grunt of frustration echoed around the bathroom as he finally turned his back to me, holding the hair over one shoulder, so I could remove it for him.
"Don't tell me you've never taken off a girl's bra before," I teased as I swiftly released the clasps, the bra springing from his arms and falling to the floor before he could catch it.
"Removing it from my own body is much different than taking it off of someone else," he countered. I knew I was the one that had brought it up, but I still paled a little at the idea of Mamoru taking off another girl's bra. He stepped out of the panties then and I came face to face with my own bare butt. I had never seen it from this angle before and, to be honest, it looked pretty good. But I still couldn't help but wonder what other bare butts had been in his shower with him before and how much better they probably were than mine.
He deposited the undergarments and our socks in the hamper before facing me again in all his naked glory. Which I guess was really my glory. Whatever he saw in my expression caused his own to fall, the smirk disappearing from his face.
"No, I've never taken off a girl's bra before," he confessed.
His eyes held mine and I was eternally grateful that he wasn't looking down at himself, or rather, at my body, like he could have been, all my lady parts on fully display. I crossed my arms over my chest instinctively, even though I knew it would do nothing to cover the nakedness I was feeling.
"Really?" I asked.
"Really." His voice and face held no sign of dishonesty and I was tempted to believe him.
He motioned for me to enter the shower and I did, his eyes never leaving my form as he followed me.
"I would have guessed you had naked women showing up at your door on a daily basis," I asserted, stepping into one stream as he stepped into the other, facing one another with deliberate, unblinking stares.
A high, barking laugh came from him. "What on earth gave you that idea?" he asked, still chuckling.
"Well, just look at you!" I flung my arm towards him before realizing that I was pointing at my own body. "Er, don't. Well, I mean. Ugh! You know what I mean," I muttered, gesturing to the body I was in.
"I am," was all he said. For some reason that made me even more annoyed.
"Well! Then you know what I'm talking about!"
"I never know what you're talking about, Odango."
"Oh my god." I stepped backward into the cascade, allowing the water to run over my face and hide myself from this infuriating human. The water relaxed my nerves and I gathered the courage to elaborate.
"I'm saying that you're absolutely gorgeous and women are always fawning all over you."
"Women are not always fawning over me," he argued, a playful sparkle in his eyes.
"They totally are. Maybe you just don't notice because you're so dense." I fought the natural urge to push my wet hair out of my eyes, doing my best to keep to our agreement. He would wash this body and I would wash that one. So I wasn't going to tough any part of this one, if I could help it.
"Maybe I am dense, but at least I'm gorgeous." He winked. He actually winked at me while we were standing here naked in a shower together and pretending like this wasn't the strangest thing to ever happen in the whole history of the universe.
I rolled my eyes. I had fed his ego so much with just one little compliment, I couldn't bear for it to get any bigger.
"Seriously, Usagi. Look at me," he said seriously.
I met his gaze again, raising my eyebrows suspiciously.
"I thought I wasn't supposed to," I countered.
"No, I mean look at you. Look at your own body," he said, pointing a finger at my own face that he was speaking from and gesturing downward toward my curves.
"What?" I asked, not enjoying this little game of his.
"I'm only gorgeous because I'm in your body," he asserted.
Did he just give me a compliment? I stared at him, absolutely bewildered. I had to admit, it was a tantalizing image, water flowing down endless golden locks that clung to a soft frame and accentuated every curve, the steam coaxing a gentle flush inside porcelain skin, ocean eyes sparkling beneath crystal-spattered lashes. My breath quickened as the body I was in began to react to the one in front of me. My heart began to beat faster and I felt the blood rushing urgently around my body, gathering and heating in my-
"Oh my god. Turn around."
"What?"
"Turn around!" I practically screamed, my deep voice bellowing in the small space and making the tiles vibrate.
"What the hell?"
He obeyed though, and I struggled to slow my breathing and make the monster between my legs revert to its default setting again. I hated this thing and it freaked me out to begin with, but now that it was reacting to me looking at myself... it was too much for me to handle. As I settled my nerves, he suddenly began to laugh. It started as a quiet chuckle and then grew into a roaring howl as the realization dawned on him.
"Now you know the affect you have on guys," he stated smugly.
Was that really how he reacted to me? Was Mamoru attracted to me?
He peeked over his shoulder at me and I almost lost it again.
"You're going to have to stop looking at me," I ordered, squeezing my eyes shut as tightly as I could. My brain was spinning in a million different directions and wondering what was the name for a sexual orientation where you're attracted to yourself.
"Sheesh. I can't look at you and I can't look at me. What do you want me to do?" he pestered.
"This was a bad idea," I groaned. What did guys say to think about? Dead puppies? Kissing your grandma? The smell of my burning flesh when Rei sets me on fire after finding out that I showered with Mamoru? Yep. That one did it. I finally relaxed and took a deep breath, shuddering under the hot water.
He had turned around and was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, effectively shielding my own breasts from my sight. God, this was so weird.
"It's weird for me too, you know," he complained. "What do you think it's doing to this body to see you over there with that hair dripping over your eyes like that?"
We both flushed bright red at his words.
"Okay, yep, this was a bad idea," he assented. "Let's just both close our eyes and get it over with."
Mamoru
"Fine," she snapped. "Where did you put my shampoo?"
"I didn't." It was still inside of the overnight bag that now sat on the floor next to the tub. Usagi looked like she was about to hit me. After today's little altercation at lunch, I knew I did not want to be on the receiving end of that blow. "Sorry, I'll go get it."
I stepped out of the shower and retrieved both bottles, not wanting to go through this again. When I returned, however, Usagi's stupid, clumsy foot caught on the lip of the tile and I barreled forward, bottles flying in all directions as my hands shot out instinctively to catch myself on something, anything. But this was a wet, slick shower and the only thing with any friction to grip onto was my own body with Usagi trapped inside of it. Without warning, we collided and I clutched her shoulders, desperately trying to steady myself, but the inertia was too great and she lost her balance, too, the pair of us toppling to the shower floor with me strewn across her body. It was a heap of slippery skin and awkward limbs and unpleasant gasps and groans as we slid against each other, frantically trying to separate and pretend that literally every inch of our naked bodies weren't pressed together. Each time one of my hands left her body to move over to the tile, I would slip again and land on her chest, slapping our bodies together over and over again.
"Oh my god, just get off!" she ordered.
And with one deft shove, Usagi slid me off of her body and up against the opposite wall, sitting herself up in the process. She glowered at me from across the shower and I understood her frustration. That was probably the exact worse case scenario that had just played out.
"Get out," she said flatly.
Without another word, I obeyed and exited the shower, feeling even dirtier than when I had entered.
"Just sit on the tub and look the other way."
I wrapped a towel around myself and did as I was told like a child facing the corner in time-out.
"I'll tell you what I'm doing so you know that I'm not-"
"You don't have to do that," I interrupted. "I trust you."
She didn't reply. I sat in silent agony, absolutely mortified. It was stupid Odango's body's fault. If she wasn't so damn clumsy and helpless, that never would have happened. I got in and out of this shower every single day for years without any incident. Her body tries to do it one time and it's Armageddon. Maybe it was for the best, though. It was strangely sickening to look at my own self and feel aroused. In both ways. I was aroused physically by looking at my male body and I was aroused mentally by looking at my female body. I tried to summon the will power to drive all thoughts of arousal from my brain, but it was different in this body. It was less of an on/off switch like I was used to and more like a fire. The flames had been quenched, but the embers were still hot and smoldering somewhere deep inside.
The shower door swung open behind me and I heard her exit and grab the towel from the rack.
"Your turn," she said, still giving the orders. Which was fine. Normally, that probably would have annoyed me, but with a situation as delicate as this, I was happy to oblige her in any way I could.
We switched places, she taking a seat on the tub while I entered the shower and tossed the towel up to hang over the glass. I closed my eyes and stepped under the waterfall, stretching my neck to my chest as the hot water beat rhythmically against my tight muscles in my shoulders, unwinding them and soothing my nerves. I couldn't delay it any longer. I grabbed the bar of soap. This is just a normal shower this is just a normal shower this is just a normal shower. I lathered the soap and began to wash, starting with my neck and working my way over my shoulders and down the rest of my body, doing my absolute god's-honest-truth best to not linger on her perfect breasts or ass or the warmth between her legs. Her body was certainly alluring, and I would no doubt love to explore it in this shower one day, but surprisingly, it was a lot less tempting without her in it. It wasn't as difficult as I expected it would be to disassociate from the task at hand.
"How do I wash your hair?" I called to her.
"Massage the shampoo into the roots and then rinse it out. Do the conditioner on the lengths and let it sit for two minutes before you rinse it."
"Two minutes?" I questioned. "What am I supposed to do for those two minutes?"
"I usually shave my legs," she stated as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.
"Well, I don't know how to do that," I retorted.
"Don't you shave your face? It's the same thing. Just be sure to bend your knees when you shave them. Oh, and get my armpits too."
I internalized my groan, trying not to upset her any more than I already had. I didn't even know yet if there was any coming back from the abominable incident just moments ago. And just when we were starting to get along, too.
"I didn't pack your razor."
"I think we're past that. Just use yours."
I followed her instructions, shampooing and conditioning her hair, doing my best to shave her legs and underarms and not strip her of her flawless skin in the process. This was a lot of effort and I found myself thanking the universe for giving me the body of a man. Most of the time, that is. Finally I rinsed the conditioner from my hair and switched off the water, wrapping the towel around myself again and stepping out onto the bath mat.
Usagi stood and turned to me, the towel wrapped high around her pecks the way a woman ties it over her breasts, the cloth just barely long enough to hide the more provocative features of her masculine body.
"Well," she said. "I think that went about as badly as it could have."