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Sometimes, I seriously question whether I’m really the protagonist…

We’re over twenty chapters in now, including interludes, and there’s still no sign of a heroine?

This sucks!

I get that I can’t be some harem king, but at least give me a main love interest!

Who even wants to read a novel without a female lead?

Counting on my fingers, it seems like the only actual girl in my life is Haitang… and maybe Tangerine, if I count her as half.

Though Haitang and I grew up together, we’re more like sworn brothers.

This bond is stronger than any fragile romantic relationship, but no matter how hard I try, I just can’t picture her in a wedding dress walking down the aisle with me…

Wait, why is it easier to imagine myself wearing the dress?

Is it because Haitang’s chest is too flat, making it impossible for me to see her as a woman?! (Realization intensifies.)

As for Tangerine, my feelings lean more towards an older brother’s protectiveness mixed with guilt.

She’s only been human for two days, but I already see her as family.

Making her the female lead?

No way… it’d feel way too morally wrong.

Though I used to fantasize about something like: “Onii-chan~ siblings shouldn’t be doing this…” followed by “It’s okay, we’re not related by blood!”—that kind of scenario.

But before the plot could even reach that stage, the sister-stealing Haitang swooped in and took Tangerine away.

Damn you, you high wall monster! One day, I will reclaim my sister!

And then, there’s Zhao Lei and Tan Rinka—who look like girls but… aren’t.

Zhao Lei’s appearance is 100% that of a girl, but her soul is Zhao Zhao—my childhood friend, the embodiment of lust and muscle, a walking, talking hormonal explosion.

Granted, Zhao Lei isn’t pervy like Zhao Zhao; she’s surprisingly fresh and wholesome, like a breath of spring air.

But as a girlfriend?

Well, it’d be tough to even imagine.

Then we have Rinka…

Ah, it’s complicated. I once genuinely liked him—really liked him—back when I thought he was actually a girl.

By all outward appearances, he’s an undeniable school beauty.

But… he’s a guy.

He’s more fashionable and put-together than any of the girls from the neighboring girls campus.

But… he’s a guy.

No matter how he presents himself—sometimes shy and delicate, sometimes mischievously playful—it’s always in the way you’d want a girl to be.

But… he’s a guy.

Silky, jet-black hair, flawless pale skin, elegant legs with perfectly sculpted calves…

But… he’s a guy.

And his secret hideout in the fifth-floor bathroom? Not only does it have a private shower, but even a washing machine with a built-in drying function.

But. He. Is. A. Guy.

July 8th, lunchtime.

Despite still being at school, I was enjoying the cold blast of an air conditioner while basking in the warmth of a hot shower.

“Kai-chan~ The dryer takes about thirty minutes~ You wanna borrow my clothes for now?”

Rinka’s voice, a blend of male and female tones, drifted through the frosted glass of the shower stall, weaving through the sound of cascading water, making it feel strangely ethereal.

“You got any men’s clothes? If not, I’ll just wrap myself in a towel for now.”

“I do, I do! But it’s been a while… I’ll have to dig around a bit.”

Why am I showering in Rinka’s secret base? It’s not that big of a deal.

I didn’t oversleep this morning, but I also didn’t feel like dealing with the chaos of the cafeteria.

So, as usual, Zhao Zhao and I planned to have lunch in our usual spot.

But today, I was determined to get my hands on yakisoba bread.

I followed Zhao Zhao into the battlefield known as the school store and, against all odds, not only secured my coveted yakisoba bread but also got my hands on a rare, ice-cold mung bean soup.

It was like pulling a five-star character in a gacha game—I felt insanely lucky!

But then, misfortune struck.

Just as we were leaving the store, I heard someone cry out, “Ah—!”

Instinctively, I turned around, only to witness a container of cold noodles (cafeteria-exclusive, fruit-flavored edition) soaring elegantly through the air in a perfect arc… heading straight for my forehead.

The crimson strawberry sauce-covered noodles cascaded over my head, creating a deceptively horrifying appearance.

The sticky, sweet sauce trickled down my neck, completely ruining my crisp white shirt.

The culprit?

Some poor guy who tripped over his own feet, sending his lunch flying right into my face.

Was this some kind of slapstick routine?

If he did this on purpose, his aim was terrifyingly accurate.

My excitement from earlier plummeted into the abyss.

But the guy was frantically apologizing, so I couldn’t even get mad.

If I had to really force myself to see the silver lining… at least it wasn’t hot noodle soup (cafeteria-exclusive, hellfire spicy, red oil inferno edition).

Reporting the incident to a teacher got me a simple, “Oh, I see. You can go home early today!” But I wasn’t about to walk out of the school gates looking like this.

I reeked of fruit-scented cold noodles.

So, I turned to Rinka. He happily lent me his shower, and thus, I found myself stepping into his overly pink, ultra-feminine secret base.

After turning off the shower and drying off, I realized Rinka still hadn’t brought me any clothes.

I could hear him rustling around outside, digging through what sounded like a mountain of clothes.

Did he really have men’s clothes?

I’d never once seen him wear anything remotely masculine.

I wrapped the towel around my waist and stepped out.

“If you can’t find any, don’t worry about it. I’m not going anywhere anyway.”

“Kai-chan! You’re—Aaaah! No, no, no, no, no!”

Hearing the sound of the bathroom door, Rinka popped his head out from a sea of clothes—only to let out a dramatic shriek the moment he saw me.

Then, in a blur, he dashed toward me.

I instinctively took a step back, startled by his sudden reaction.

“W-what’s wrong? You’re not about to say… seeing me shirtless makes you flustered, are you? We’re both guys, remember?”

“Flustered?! Not even close!”

And just like that, he yanked my towel right off.

Cue censorship bars.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL?!”

I covered myself with both hands and scrambled back into the shower stall, my face burning.

He followed me inside, rewrapping the towel over my chest— isn’t this how a girl would wrap it?

“Hahh… You need to wrap it this way! Otherwise, seeing your bare face and open chest at the same time is too much for my brain to handle!”

He sighed in relief, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow like he had just defused a bomb.

What do you think I am, some Hideyoshi Kinoshita?!

“And what about when you shower?”

“…It’s different for me. If I take off my makeup, I still look… male.”

There was a note of sadness in his voice, something he couldn’t quite hide. It made my chest tighten.

Glancing at the drying machine’s countdown timer, I flopped onto Rinka’s bed.

It smelled… nice.

“Hey, Rinka… do you… want to be a real girl?”

“…Yeah. After high school, I plan to get surgery in Thailand.”

His answer was firm. He had clearly thought about this for a long time.

He lay down beside me, shoulder to shoulder, staring at the ceiling.

The scent of his shampoo lingered between us.

“Surgery is really hard on the body… You know that, right?”

“Of course! I didn’t make this decision lightly.”

After a brief silence, he spoke again.

“Kai, can I ask you something…? Do you… still like me?”

That was a tough one. I knew I should say something comforting, but…

Because of the confession incident, a lingering awkwardness had settled between us—we’d even started avoiding greetings when we ran into each other.

But after learning each other’s secrets yesterday, that fragile emotional barrier between us shattered.

Even so, our relationship wasn’t quite the same as before.

I used to see him as a girl I had feelings for, but now… I see him more as just another male friend.

“I still like you. Just… not in a romantic way anymore.”

“I see… Y’know, I really do like you. Especially after seeing you without glasses. I was even gonna ask if you’d accept me after the surgery…”

Wait. Was he asking me to… be his boyfriend?!

Shocked, I turned to look at him—only to find him deliberately looking away.

“Even with surgery, your chromosomes would still be male… Sorry, I don’t do dudes.”

“Yeah… I guess most people would still see me as ‘fake’ even after surgery…Sorry for asking you weird ques—”

“Miracles.”

I cut him off before he could fall too deep into self-doubt.

“Rinka, do you believe in miracles?”

“Miracles? Even if they exist, they’d never happen to me.”

“Just wait and believe—miracles do happen!”

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