Jayden kept sweeping the room for anything that might help him safely escape. The dresser and desk drawers contained ordinary things that a boarding student would keep around and there was nothing particularly helpful for his situation.
Thinking hard about what he might be able to use to pry open the door, he was suddenly struck by another pang from his nagging headache. He winced and doubled over. He brought both his hands up to rub his forehead, but in doing so, he knocked a tray full of stuff off the desk. The clattering noise seared into his brain and he shouted. He lost his balance and dropped to the floor, grunting as his thigh landed on some of the clutter.
It took a few seconds for the worst of it to pass and he was finally able to open his eyes. Blinking and wincing, he peered down at himself through messy bangs. All around him were pens, erasers, rulers, markers and paper clips. At least there weren't any thumbtacks.
He brushed his hair out of his eyes, only to have them fall right back into his vision after the slightest head tilt. "What...? My hair isn't that long." While it was true that he was overdue for a haircut, his bangs didn't bother him this badly. He made another, more dedicated sweep with both hands to pull the hair to either side of his face, but then something else stole his attention.
"Aww, no!" His shirt and pants were badly stained by some black fluid. He shuffled to the side, away from the half of himself that was stained the most, and saw a couple of ink bottles next to him, their caps missing and black ink everywhere.
"Shit! My shirt! My whole outfit!" He felt incredibly stupid for not being more careful after getting that disorienting shock from the window. He rose to his feet and staggered to the nearby dresser. Pulling out whatever clothes his hands grabbed first, he used them to blot his own clothes, completely disregarding the quality of the appropriated garments.
The ink had set fast. Nothing so much as a black speck transferred to the other clothes. Jayden knew that had to be impossible, but the lingering throbbing in his forehead made it difficult to work through more than one puzzle at a time.
Sure that there was no salvaging his outfit with a wash, Jayden started pulling off his clothes. To his dismay, ink had soaked through to his underwear, and even his socks. He shed them all without a second thought.
Sneering down at the now-empty bottles of ink and the spreading black pool around them, he threw his clothes down onto them and stamped them with his bare foot. He watched them darken even further as they soaked up what remained of the mess.
"Stupid! Stupid stupid BAKA!" He flopped down on the bed and slammed his palms on his legs, making a sharp slap, then fell into a contemplative silence.
He still felt strange, and it wasn't just the headache. He was stark naked and the room was a little chilly. He itched, too. Not everywhere, but in specific, random places. Particularly his shoulders. The itching slowly started turning into the sensation of something crawling down his shoulders and back.
He leapt back up and swung his arms behind him, scratching and swiping all over to get whatever it was off of him. His hands brushed through long, silky hair. He stopped cold.
Slowly turning to where he noticed a mirror earlier, Jayden approached his reflection--or the reflection. Despite matching him move-for-move, the person he saw was an Asian girl. If he had to guess at her age, he figured it was the same as his, 19, although she stood about a half-foot shorter than him. Her face and nose were slender, her chin coming to a gentle point. The outer corners of her eyes were higher than her tearducts, and were framed by long, rich black hair that grew all in one length down to below her breasts. She was as naked as Jayden, and he didn't think fast enough before his eyes followed the hair down to her small, perky breasts. Catching himself too late, he clapped his hands over his chest to make her do the same, but that only motivated his eyes to latch on to something else, so they darted down to the mound between her legs, which was topped with a fully-grown dark bush.
Jayden gasped and tried to cover that, too, moving one arm so it crossed over both of his breasts and cupping his female sex with the other hand. That's when it finally occurred to him that he wasn't just seeing his reflection touching a woman's privates, he was feeling them, too.
His breath caught in his throat and he slowly looked down. He moved his arms away and saw that, yes, his body matched the mirror. Looking back up, and realizing that his height now matched hers, he felt his headache come back in full force. The Japanese student in front of him winced, and then Jayden saw nothing as the throbbing pounded away across his head. He blindly braced herself against the mirror, panting in time with the throbs. He felt his body pulling further into itself--shrinking--which was confirmed as he felt his hands slowly slide down the mirror. The crawling sensation on his back returned. The unfamiliar weight on her chest grew ever so slightly heavier, stretching her skin like sand being poured into a balloon. She let out a long, heavy moan, which steadily rose through several octaves before it cut out with a voice-cracking squeak.
She couldn't tell how long it had been... maybe seconds... maybe ten minutes. When she regained her senses, she was gasping for air, knees on the ground, palms into the mirror, and almost nose-to-nose with the prettiest girl she'd ever seen. Her narrow eyes grew a touch wider as she realized that was her, and she was a SHE.
"What...?" She rasped. "What am...?" Her voice was much higher now. "H-how...?"
Fighting the fog of confusion, she shifted back onto her rear end, eyes taking in her form anew. For the first time, she fully recognized it as her own reflection. She had gone through a few more subtle changes: her black hair was now long enough to brush the floor where she sat, her eyelashes and lips looked a little fuller, and she was about a size bigger in the chest, giving her something of an average bust according to the way her male self ranked women's tits. That last thought plucked something new in her brain that she wasn't quite sure how to feel about.
The headache finally subsided. She had a mysterious sense that it hadn't so much died out as it had pulled away with a sense of completion. She took a few moments to absorb everything that just happened. With her head clearing, she remembered her friends outside. Had they gotten her text? If they did, they could find her any minute.
"Shit... I need to put something on."
Trying to ignore the high pitch of her voice, she carefully stood up. Her body was a little leaner and a lot lighter than she was used to. The room even looked bigger. How much shorter had she gotten?
She stepped over to the closet she had taken a fascination in earlier. Pulling the door fully open, she surveyed the complete range of options. She had a confident feeling anything she picked would fit just fine. The question was, what did she want to be seen in--or, an increasingly hard to ignore part of herself suggested--what did she want to see herself in?