KEY: brackets/parenthesis [], () = Jennifer's thoughts
While on the bus, Jennifer didn’t think much of it. Cheerleading took hold of most of her mind; there was a new girl that would be coming, and she would have to make sure that her position wasn’t surmounted. In her mind popped a few rather mischievous actions, threats and all that could bully the new girl into submission. Supposedly, the new girl was a hot shot from one of the schools that led in cheerleading. She was reportedly beautiful, had tremendous skill, and supreme charisma. She could not let this pass. (This is my turf.)
With that in mind, she got off the bus, and started her Monday. (At lunch time, the plan starts.) Jen spends the better half of the morning listening to droll teachers, middle aged men who tried to act lenient to be popular with their students, as well as drawing random stick figures in her notebook.
A small blade of black covers the corner of Jen’s left eye. Instinctively, Jen swats it to the side. (Wait, what?) A quirky feeling spread throughout her body, first arising from her chest. It was like a thin, soft jelly was sweeping all over her body, molding into her skin and organs as it traveled. As the feeling extended throughout, a glowering warmth filled Jennifer.
The girl’s hair was a ravenous black, as dark as the night on a new moon, but then gained some sort of polish that reflected the sunlight which peered into the classroom. Touching her hair, Jen noticed that it was incredibly silky. Oddly enough, the band which usually held her hair up in a ponytail fell down onto the floor. Jen, trying to pick it up, noticed her hair bloomed far past her shoulders. Panicking on what was happening, the girl instinctively looked around to the others; they weren’t paying any attention to her at all. It’s as if what was happening was completely natural. Placing her band back onto her desk, the cheerleader felt a jolt of pleasure burn in her chest Jen’s mind, in panic, raced through options of what to do. (Right, that’s it. If anything, the teacher and the others should know what to do.) Jennifer raised her hand.
“Teach, I got an emergency.” But the teacher kept teaching geometry. Shapes, figures, degrees, theorems.
“Uuuh, Teach!? Anyone!?” And nobody even bat an eye at the girl who had piped up. (What’s up with everyone?) The others were acting like usual. It’s as if she didn’t exist at all.
Quickly, Jen ran to the nurse’s office. (There might be something there.) Lo and behold, there was a nurse there, who paid no attention as Jen strolled in. A large, body-sized mirror faced the entrance, as if greeting the girl instead. The warmth still within her body, a tingly feeling arose from the girl’s feet, working its way up slowly. (My legs… what’s happening to my legs!?) Her tan legs shrank, becoming thinner, muscles hardly visible. Once a girl of 5’10”, she noticed that objects around the world become taller. However, her legs were thin, and thus gave the illusion that they were still long. Strands of little pesky blonde hair, sprinkled across her legs, fell out, leaving her limbs to be clean and smooth.
The sparkling tingle penetrated her pelvis. Although her legs overall became more lithe, her hips stretched a bit outwards, with her butt becoming more full. The upper portion of her legs had fattened in all the right places, and thus formed a beautiful curve as they went down. (What the fuck!?) Her mind, in a craze, reached for random ointments. (Which one can I use to stop this!?) She understood the answer instinctively, but wished to rebel against the changes. Yet, the changes would not wait for her to make up her mind. The tingling sensation moved upwards through her chest, seeping into her supple breasts.
The cheerleader’s belly fat disappeared into almost nothingness, a tiny cute mound replacing it. The girl’s waist pushed inwards. For most girls, they would have to wear a corset to have such a thin waist. Pop! A startling sound dragged Jen’s attention to her puppies. She dropped the cold medicine that she had selected in a hurry onto the floor. Her breasts had effectively breached her brassiere, allowing her to feel discomfort. She had been a decent C cup before, so the elevation to F placed incredible pressure. (So constricting! I have to stop this.) Jennifer began rushed to find any medicine she could reach, and take it. Her hand located some cough drops, which she had plopped into her mouth after deftly sliding off the wrapper. But the sensations did not stop. Her shoulders, arms, hands tingled. The girl’s arms became more petite and soft, and her hands had become slightly more miniature. Her shoulder length was reduced, making her seem more fragile.
(I can’t do anything.) The girl falls to the ground as she gives up. She looks at the mirror with an expression of bewilderment. But it quickly changed — as if to rebel against her changes and fate one last time, she made an indifferent expression as if saying “come at me.” The tingling pushed up through her neck, making it thinner, and through her face and head. She saw as her face had lose some fat, becoming leaner and less hard, with her cheeks becoming slightly more full with a tinge of natural pink blush.
Her eyes gave a more Japanese feel to them, becoming similar to that of curvy almonds, with a slight angle to them that would make her look cute when she was angry. Her eyebrows, more slender, moved about as Jennifer uneasily stared at her reflection. Her lips, more full, looked ripe to steal, with a tinge of glossy pink. Her nose, smaller than before, along with soft jawline and simple chin that gave her face a delicate, yet enormously elegant, feel to it. The cheerleader’s hair, already silken and black, as if living, drifted forward, and rest upon her shoulders. She felt something tie on the back of her hair, and upon turning saw it for what it was. (A red ribbon?) The shift continued, creating neatly trimmed bangs that went down an inch before her eyes started.
She felt a light sparkle all across her body as she noticed that her complexion was lighter, paler, as if she hadn’t spent hundreds of hours practicing in the sun for cheerleading. She looked like a Japanese girl with a much-too-small bra, and clothes that fit her lazily as they were too large. As a woman of 5’5”, she had become shorter than before, but her limbs were thin and ripe, giving an illusion of tallness. (…Is it done? It’s done, isn’t it? Finally, it’s done. It has to be.)
But it was not done. Her clothes fluttered for a moment. Once… then once more. Then they began shifting on their own. Her bra, pink and insufficient, turned a pearly white and extended itself to adapt to the girl’s larger bust size. A tiny red ribbon decorated the midpoint of the bra, with the rest of the bra becoming somewhat lacier. Her cheerleader top, as if it were refused to acknowledge that she was its owner, twisted into darkness. No longer were the school’s initials imprinted atop it, only a red ribbon, which neatly placed itself on her greatly ample bosom, replaced it. The material of the top had become thinner, yet more comfortable, with the attire’s cuffs becoming less thick.
The top continued to morph, with what looked like a portion of a pitch black sailor’s uniform covering the upper portions of the clothing. Neat red lines, tidy, made their way across the edges of the portion to briefly outline it. Then she felt the short shorts cozy up to her skin, thinning. They were shorts no longer, and instead pure white panties remained. A small ribbon and a tinge of place made it look slightly fancier, but it chose not to be overdone, looking a little plain, yet giving a sense of trivial eroticism. And then next was her skirt. Her cheerleader’s skirt, as if following the top, darkened. The skirt, once slightly above knee-length, shortened itself to be slightly higher than the midpoint between the Jennifer’s hips and knees. The skirt, long enough to conceal the girl’s underwear, warned its wearer against the wind.
Jennifer’s socks, once white and knee-high, pulled themselves up to just below her hips, falling just around mid-thigh. They wrestled with reality and became thinner and black. As if telling the shoes to evolve, too, the socks shifted to fit the girl’s feet with comfort. Her sports shoes, having a popular sports logo atop it, aimed to reach the progression its compatriots had obtained. A nice, polished black, her shoes transmuted themselves into something that weren’t known to be used for sports — they were mary janes, with a single strap running across the top of each foot in the place of laces.
(Is it done? Is it finally, finally done?) The girl wondered, as an unsettling pause passed. Looking over herself, she had found that she looked like perfectly like a Japanese girl, full with a black sailor uniform that the Japanese had commonly used, including thigh high socks, a miniskirt, and shoes unfit for sports. Jennifer picked herself up off the ground, a tad happy that the changes were done. Yet, she worried that she transformed in the first place. Who did this, and why? Would she be able to cheerlead with these thin limbs that seemingly lacked muscle, and more importantly… would her friends recognize her? (No matter how much I change, they’ll recognize me! I’ll make them!) The girl did a slight fist pump as if to encourage herself. Dark thoughts tried to invade her mind, but she brushed them aside with great effort. (I have to have hope.)
“I’ll be going, sorry ‘bout the mess,” Jennifer spoke to the nurse. The nurse didn’t respond, but she perhaps was too busy. When she returned, class was still in session. Only fifteen minutes had passed since she had went to the nurse’s office, and class still had a sizable twenty minutes remaining. Right as Jennifer sat in her seat, the teacher piped up. “Isn’t anyone able to solve this problem?” Nobody answered, many afraid to look stupid in front of everyone else, with many others raising their heads as if they were awaken from a midday’s dream. Only silence pervades throughout the room.
Jennifer felt an enormous tingle throughout her brain. Her brain felt like putty, as if it was something to be molded. Her head collapsed onto the desk. Nobody seemed to notice. And slowly, as she rose it, she started understanding things once more — her brain was rebooting. Finally, as she returned back to her natural state, with her held up high, she saw that the teacher looked expectantly at her. [My, what is it? Is Mr. Heiwaz looking at me?] Jen instantly realized it. [Wait, is that me in my head!? This… this high pitched voice. What’s with this language? It’s not English.] As she tried to think in English, she instead thought in Japanese.
“Ms. Tenkouji, mind taking a shot at it? The others don’t seem to be up to it,” the teacher sighs a bit. [No, I have no obligation to do so. But…] A streak of memories involving a strict father and mother, a strict upbringing as a noble lady, as well as a streak of teenage rebellion and shame to one’s parents, family, and most importantly, self, burned through her head. [It’s not befitting me to do leave it like this.]
“Okay, I will do it,” Jennifer speaks slower than usual, her words heavily accented, but charming due to her high tone of voice and a soft exuding elegance that supported them. [This problem is simple. I know the short hand for this but… I cannot simply let everyone lack understanding of this problem. It’s a bit of an inconvenience, but this should work.] The girl wrote a compact but understandable solution on the board. Several students’ eyes lit up, as if they had obtained eureka moments simultaneously.
“Good work, Ms. Tenkouji. Nice penmanship, as always. We should get you to do a perfect circle again one day,” Mr. Heiwaz chuckled.
“You’re very welcome,” Jennifer caught herself doing a slight bow. “Ah…” She gracefully returned to her seat. Memories continued to push into Jennifer’s mind. Little by little usually, but sometimes a large swathe returned all at once. Meanwhile, the girl made sure to have a good sitting posture, back straight, with legs enclosed tightly. Her notes, mainly in Japanese, looked clean. [I have to find out what happened. I am Japanese. No, I’m Japanese! I mean, American!] Jennifer was in complete confusion. As time went on, her memories in her unconscious were replaced with Japanese ones. She still had memories of being an American girl, but she felt like they were like facts or opinions. That they weren’t hers — it’s as if someone tried brainwashing her into thinking she was American, only to fail. She restlessly waited until class ended, as a feeling of duty ensured that she didn’t move out from her seat to recklessly find answers.
And the rest of class passed quickly, as the girl tried to keep herself from fidgeting, showing great restraint.