“Dancing I can do, choreographing’s a bit trickier—but still leave it to me!”

Bei Qiaojue, who’d been summoned by Haitang, nodded after hearing the plan. She gave us a thumbs-up and immediately volunteered to handle choreography.

“Are you sure? Don’t push yourself if it’s too much,” I tried to warn her. Truth is, I was secretly hoping she’d back out so I wouldn’t be forced onstage. But Qiaojue wasn’t the quitting type—if anything, the harder the task, the more it fired her up.

“Relax. It’s just one routine. I’ve got friends who can help with pointers!”

She dug out her phone and started contacting people—friends that could actually dance. Qiaojue had an enormous, wildly varied circle of contacts. No wonder she could get along with anyone; that kind of outgoing social energy makes you unexpectedly useful everywhere.

“Alright then, then that’s settled. Commander, go tell Xiao Lei to take a leave from work tomorrow, okay?”

Haitang was excited too; she didn’t mind publicity and was all for Rinka’s idea. Meow Meow was even more enthusiastic. Only Sis Xi and I looked faintly horrified.

But you can’t stop the tide of popular opinion—the group dance was already rolling.

“Ok,ok. I got it, I’ll tell her.”

Finishing the arrangements, Haitang then ran up to the stage to check on the clubs’ prep. Sis Xi and Meow Meow went off to pick up the girl band. That left Rinka and Tangerine with me.

Rinka tugged her hair, fished out a hair tie from somewhere, and piled her long locks into a ponytail, revealing a strip of pale neck. Noticing I was staring, she explained, “When you bounce around dancing, loose hair looks messy. You should tie yours up too, Tangerine.”

My hair’s short, so I didn’t need one.

Tangerine hesitated a moment before admitting, “Ah… actually, I—can’t really join the backup dancers. My tail flicks on its own to keep my balance, and it’d be hard to hide.”

I glanced at Tangerine’s backside—there was a slight, inconspicuous bump at the base of her spine. She’d been keeping her skirt long and had been wrapping her tail around her thigh to conceal it. Using a tail for balance is instinctual for cats; she’d done the same on that whole Path of the Brave challenge at Aqua World before.

I sighed. “Nobody’s ever noticed your tail in class?”

“It’s pretty obvious; a few friends know, and Jing knows too. But I've never mentioned anything about Onii-chan. I’m keeping your secret, really!”

“All right, all right. I won’t hold the old incident against you. No—actually, as punishment—”

Tangerine hates being patted on the head, but this time I went ahead and ruffled her anyway. She didn’t dodge; she just squeezed her eyes shut and endured it. Her little fuzzy cat-ear tufts were adorable, her lashes fluttered, and her pursed lips were cute. In short: unbearably cute.

“Let me hug you, Tangerine!” I cried.

“Meow! O—Onii-chan?” Tangerine panicked at my sudden attack.

Unable to help myself, I hugged her full-on. I was in my female body now, so… fair game, right? Use the advantage while you’ve got it—otherwise, what’s the point of transforming?

A few months ago she’d still been my family’s cat; now she’d fully adapted to human life. Tangerine really was soft and smelled nice—Haitang always said she made a great pillow.

Rinka folded her arms and teased, “So Commander, you’re a siscon now?”

“I’m not a siscon—It just happens that Tangerine is my little sister.”

“People who like little-sister types are called siscons, you know. And legally she isn’t your sister anyway—she’s Haitang’s.”
Rinka’s casual jab hit a nerve. If only Dad could cure his fear of women, I’d bring Tangerine home in a heartbeat.

“Hey, Tangerine looks uncomfortable, doesn’t she?” Rinka sighed and flicked a rubber band with a finger-gun motion at my forehead—ping!—then blew on it like a cowboy finishing off a duel.

“Gah! I’m done for!” I yelped—okay, that rubber band stung—and I reluctantly let Tangerine go while rubbing my brow. Rinka whisked her away in one smooth move.

“Sherrif Rinka, successfully rescued Miss Tangerine from the clutches of the villainous Kai!” The mood suddenly turned delightfully Western.

“Phew—then you can stand in for her, okay?” I switched to a villainous tone and spread my arms like I was about to pounce on Rinka.

“Bring it on—if I don’t go to hell, who will?” she said, not even flinching. Somehow that left me at a loss. It was odd—I could hug Tangerine without trouble, but lunging at Rinka felt different.

“Not dodging, huh? Then I’m going to eat your tofu!” I warned.

“Try it, I dare you!” She laughed. Seeing me hesitate, she turned, slammed herself into my chest, and pinned my arm across her front. A light, pleasant scent—not perfume or shampoo, but Rinka’s own smell—wafted near her neck and made my heart thud.

“Rinka, you…”

I wanted to blurt out, Will you be my girlfriend? but the words never left my mouth.

“Kai-chan you still want to eat my tofu? You’re basically a big soft tofu yourself—Duang Duang Duang—these pillows are so squishy. So good!” she teased.

Boobs are great—as long as they’re not on you. So heavy.

“Tsk, Sis Rinka’s so scheming—Onii-chan obviously wanted to hug me!” Tangerine complained, trying to pull Rinka off. She failed and ended up yanked back into Rinka’s arms; we became one big human sandwich.

“Kai-chan hugs me, I hug Tangerine—so by hugging me you’re also hugging Tangerine. That’s hug-transference,” Rinka declared.

“That’s nonsense,” Tangerine sniffed. Rinka only tightened her hug and rubbed her cheek against Tangerine’s ear-fuzz.

“Huhu… Tangerine is also comfy to hug. Maybe being flat-chested as a woman is really a no-no—hmm, maybe I’ll go to Korea over winter break!”

“You wanted to go to Thailand in summer—now Korea? Stop trying to torture your body. There are plenty of men who like small chests, you know.”

“Comfort from the oppai-aliens only makes me want to die.”

Because there were other students in the gym, I disentangled myself from the sandwich to avoid drawing too much attention. Rinka still clung to Tangerine.

Just then Sis Xi and Meow Meow walked in with five wild-looking, brightly colored-haired older girls—the girl band. Their style was outrageous, almost post-apocalyptic; way too killamatic—a full-on era-defining look.

Of course, this was the band Sis Xi had found… I’d forgotten how awful these two’s tastes could be; back in their delinquent days the whole gang had that end-of-the-century aesthetic. And Sis Xi herself still secretly wanted a Mohawk.

“Wow, this band is awful,” I blurted. Rinka was stunned too.

While we were still recovering from the shock from their outfits, Qiaojue came back dragging an unexpected person.

It was the homeroom teacher of Class 2-B—Takagi Mukuge.