📗📜 Crush Gear Turbo | Genius Gear Goddess

[g_uava]

SFW | 29k+ words | Marume Claude/Jin Kyousuke

The magic of the Crush Gear world not only assists Kyousuke in fixing Shooting Phantom before the World Cup's semi-finals, but also gives him a makeover that he did not ask for. His transformation gets him to see the unique advantages of living as a girl and to undergo another makeover, all for the sake of maintaining his special connection with his special boy.

Author's Notes

Contains spoilers for episode 62 as the story explores a different outcome for the match between Claude and Manganji.

⛔Warnings⛔

Contains depictions of gender dysphoria when magic changes the biological sex of a male character.

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In the Black Forest of Germany, Japan's only Gear Master dreamt. No longer surrounded by trees and mountains, he had returned to the city, back to the hotel where his teammates rested before the next day's matches. The lights inside promised warmth and protection from the chill air, but he stayed in place, wrapped in the evening's darkness and unwilling to rejoin the others before completing his mission.

Claude alone stood at a window. Unusual, since he liked to both sleep and rise early. His sleeplessness was surely a result of missing a part of his soul — his Shooting Phantom which he entrusted Kyousuke to fix. The Gear that they created together for Claude to take on the world, to take down Kyousuke during their fateful match, and to let Kyousuke break and rebuild a crucial part of Claude starting from the crack in Phantom's drill.

"Kyousuke..."

Out loud, Claude spoke.

The window's cool glass collected a cluster of small dots from his breath, against which Kyousuke pressed his nose.

"Claude!"

Claude did not see or hear him.

Disembodied, Kyousuke existed like a ghost, only to become corporeal again once he had restored Claude's Gear to its perfect condition, which reflected how Claude had always appeared to him. Its perfection also drove Kyousuke to walk in the darkness of a foreign country, rather than dwell in the shadows of his basement workshop, with his teammates as his companions.

He took one last look at Claude before walking away. With his every step, he renewed his resolve to present a whole and perfect Shooting Phantom to Claude again even if it broke him.

'You don't have to break.'

Kyousuke froze, listening to the voice carried on the wind. He looked at the cobblestones under his feet and the houses around him, discovering not a single living soul.

'You just have to build.'

A deafening crack shattered the stillness of the night. Like thunder further fragmented into a million deadly shards. Clutching the sides of his head, Kyousuke sank to his knees and scrunched his eyes shut. The pounding of his blood in his ears became the faint yet furious whirring of gears, above which rang the voice of the unknown being who had spoken to him.

'Do you want the power to build? To create and to change?'

"Give it to me," Kyousuke demanded over the cacophony flooding the crevices of his consciousness.

'Why?'

"For Shooting Phantom...no, for Claude to win!"

'To create involves first being recreated. To become one with the power that creates all.'

"I'll do whatever it takes! I'll be the creator of the future that I want!"

'Very well.'

The noise of the gears' whirring that surrounded him underwent a distinct change. They began turning in the opposite direction, faster and faster and grinding invisible sparks that burst somewhere within Kyousuke. For nothing else explained the snapping and burning throughout him, interspersed with the disentangling and retying of the strands which formerly pulled him together.

Everything hurt. Everything seemed broken and fixed in rapid succession, then refitted to build him into a container for the power he had wished for.

**

Semi-conscious, Kyousuke dived once more into the fray, picking up Shooting Phantom's attachment shaft and filing it down. The wood of his steel file's handle was as solid as the walnut bench that he sat on, in the log cabin he and Jirou had traveled to. He breathed in the scent of trees and earth, and breathed out to unwind the tension in his stomach as he reattached both shaft and drill to Claude's Gear. When he fired up his Gear Machine simulator, the clacking of the keyboard under his fingers almost drowned out Jirou's snoring at the cabin's other table.

His screen reflected his success in getting Shooting Phantom's power parameter to reach optimum efficiency. He shot to his feet, slamming both palms on the table. Both the impact and its echo proved he had really done it, in the real world instead of a dream one, having pulled off a feat that would allow a Gear Fighter's dream to come true.

But he shouldn't celebrate yet, not before delivering Shooting Phantom to its owner. Not before witnessing it crush Manganji's Gaiki and propelling Claude to his next match in the World Cup.

He ran through the steps for seeing it all happen for real: wake Jirou up, tell him the good news and get an early start back to the venue of the tournament. Yet as he stepped away from his tools and Claude's Gear, dizziness and exhaustion weighed him down, and he would have fallen over if he had not held himself up with one hand on the wooden table.

Firsr, he had to freshen up and regain some strength. He took a few steps to the cabin’s washroom where he could wash his face and take a leak.

Not long after shutting the washroom's door behind him, he dashed back out, slamming his knee against the corner of the bench he had vacated. He disregarded the sharp and blunt pain to pound his fists on Jirou's broad back with all his might, pumped full of panic-fueled energy to shake his larger and heavier teammate awake.

"Jirou, Jirou!"

"Mmm?" Jirou's snoring ceased as he blinked and raised his head from his folded arms atop the table he had been sleeping on. "Is it fixed...Shooting Phantom?"

"Yes, but I've...I've lost my dick! I've become a girl!"

"...Sounds like one hell of a nightmare."

Kyousuke foresaw Jirou's disbelief. To remedy it, he took a big gulp of cold, bracing air and stripped off every stich of clothing on him. Every last one, including his underwear, which covered the inexplicable modification done to his body.

"Hey, what...AHH!"

Jirou's shout sent the cabin's owner rushing over. His dog's barking announced his arrival as a door of the cabin was thrown open, allowing the old man and the mutt to become a part of the strange tableau before them — one comprised of a plump, heavyset boy, half-off his seat, pointing at a much smaller and bespectacled naked figure, standing with both arms hugging a slightly developing chest and legs apart with nothing dangling in between.

**

Forest magic – what the old man called the force that had changed Kyousuke.

That enabled him to repair Shooting Phantom.

That had perhaps smoothened his and Jirou's journey back to the World Cup's venue, where they arrived at the castle seeing Claude, Kouya and Kaoru – and even Manganji's two lackeys – having got down on their knees and with their heads bowed for Manganji. Actually begging the rich bastard for a time extension before his match with Claude.

Once Shooting Phantom was safe in Claude's hand, the magic ended, as if blocked by the castle's stone walls sealing them all from the rest of the city and the forest beyond.

Claude lost. The German sky, appropriately overcast, rained with the gears, motor and Shooting Phantom's other metal innards after the Gear took Gaiki's second Haoh Shoryugeki.

It tore Kyousuke's heart to pieces. Moreso when he put his palm to the area over the ache in his chest and had it meet a subtle rise of…breast.

Kyousuke got breasts for nothing.

When he cried, wetting the front of Claude’s shirt after Claude pulled him into a hug, everyone except Jirou thought his tears were just for the results of Claude’s fight and nothing else.

But at least no obvious changes happened to his eyes, brain and hands, which he needed for putting Shooting Phantom back together. Gaiki's destruction necessitated a total overhaul. The Gear had to be recreated, in the words of the voice in Kyousuke's dream.

That turned out to be no dream, since it affected his reality.

According to the old man of the Gear workshop in the woods, Forest Magic meant Kyousuke no harm. It just acted to get him closer to the future that he wanted and would continue to co-create with him until he finished creating his envisioned future.

So to rid himself of the magic’s effect, Kyousuke had to take an active role in getting Shooting Phantom to defeat Gaiki. Whether it was the right cure or not, he did want to see it happen, to see Claude bring Manganji to his knees in a reversal of what happened before their match.

**

As much as Kyousuke wanted to hide his condition from the others, Jirou put his foot down against it. The sooner they share the entire story, the more likely it’d be taken seriously, and not a sign of them becoming delusional after the blow of getting eliminated from the World Cup.

They told everyone else in their first team meeting after Kouya secured his fight against Manganji for the finals. In great detail, Kyousuke described everything that happened in his dream and repeated his conversation with the voice that spoke to him, word for word. Then Jirou followed suit with his re-enacment of waking up and watching Kyousuke strip down to nothing, during which Kyousuke resisted the urge to squirm and cover his ears and scream. Their retelling concluded at them departing the cabin in the Black Forest, having got the old man who lived in it to share all he knew about Forest Magic.

It went as well as it could have gone with a mish-mash of shock, horror and forced laughter, and a dash of violence from Kaoru smacking Kouya for copping a feel of Kyousuke’s new small tits. Instead of taking offense, Kyousuke appreciated the comic relief and sought more of it, turning to Claude.

Claude looked back at him. Throughout the entire tale, he had not said much, only letting his eyes grow wider and wider.

"You’re welcome to get a good grope," Kyousuke said, setting his hands on his hips and thrusting out his chest. "If you suspect it’s all a big joke."

"Of course not."

As Claude grasped Kyousuke by his shoulders, Kyousuke held in a little gasp. He thought Claude would hug him again. Claude didn’t and while his grasp stayed steady, his eyes wavered with a wet sheen which forewarned his impending tears.

Tears that he had earlier shed too for Shooting Phantom. For Kyousuke.

Back then, the tremors from his chest’s shaking resonated with Kyousuke’s own heartache. His hurt and Claude’s hurt once more combined to batter his innermost core, and he wished Claude did want another hug, to let him wrap his arms tight around Claude in return.

They were close enough, figuratively and literally, for Kyousuke to hug Claude first.

But he didn’t...couldn’t. Displaying physical affection always seemed like asking for too much, from others and himself.

He only said to Claude, "You’ve been crying an awful lot today."

"Yes, I have." Claude smiled, blinking away two drops that left wet trails on his cheeks. "I’m not worth your immense sacrifice. A thousand apologies won’t be enough for letting it go to waste."

"Well, I did want my creation to teach Manganji the taste of defeat."

"We’ll have to do that and ask for a rematch, won’t we? To undo the magic."

"We’ve got to, since we have no better ideas."

"I’ll get Shooting Phantom the victory that you want even if it’ll take the rest of my life."

"Don’t you dare take that long! I swear if you do, I’ll..."

...Strip and flash the girl goods, as Kyousuke had done to Jirou. No better threat rose to his mind and before he thought of one, it occurred to him that if Claude had accompanied him to the Gear workshop in the Black Forest, as Claude initially wanted to, he would have been Kyousuke’s first witness of what Forest Magic had done to him.

As soon as the possibility chilled him to his bones, a hot flash took its hold on him.

Weird…He blamed that on Forest Magic as well.

As he quelled the abrupt alternating of opposing sensations within him, Lilika re-entered their room. She had gone to ask the hotel staff about the bus timings for getting to the Black Forest.

Lilika wanted to meet the old man who lived there, hear what he had to say about the woods' magic for herself and also ask him questions from which might arise crucial knowledge on its workings. But their next flight back to Japan, for Kouya to face off against Manganji at Manganji Hills, did not allow another trip to the old man's cabin.

That did not let Kyousuke down. He believed he had learned all he could from the old man, and clarified the conditions for lifting the magic. As for its true nature and how it worked, those were unimportant to him.

At his insistence, the team put aside his issue, for they could not afford to pour anything less than all their energy and efforts into their preparations for the World Cup's finals, for Kouya to become the World Champion. It also went without saying that Manganji, gunning for the same title, would have no room to entertain a rematch with an opponent he had beaten.

Creating the future that Kyousuke wanted, in the foreseeable one unfolding before him, was out of the question. He just had to man up and play the role of Kouya's Lady Luck.

**

The first person outside of Tobita Club to know what happened to Kyousuke was his own dad.

It had at first seemed doable for him and his dad to continue minding their respective businesses in different areas of the factory, co-existing as a pair of father and son more comfortable tinkering with machines than having heart to heart talks and getting touchy feely. All along, Kyousuke had kept his dad ignorant of his personal problems, and liked to do the same with his current crisis.

Yet he let Lilika talk him into telling his dad. Assuming her well-earned role as Tobita Club's official coach, she stressed the importance of the well-being and safety of the members under her care. Having someone, in particular Kyousuke's parent and closest living relative, look out for him better kept him safe outside of club activities, since the magical changes that Kyousuke underwent might influence various areas of his life.

The longer the magic lasted, the more obvious those changes would be, until hiding them became one more crisis that threatened to spiral out of control.

The vision of unending misery hung over Kyousuke's head, prodding him to finish the narration of his misadventure for his dad's ears within the walls of his dad's office. They were not alone, for backing Kyousuke up was not only Jirou, but also Lilika, Kaoru, Claude and Kouya, all squeezed into one room to support Kyousuke in facing his dad's bafflement.

Seated behind the office's big desk, his dad took off his safety helmet and scratched his close-cropped hair.

"Kyousuke as a girl..." His dad said, wrinkling his brow and looking Kyousuke up and down. "I really can't tell the difference."

"Believe me, Kyousuke's different," Jirou said. "He can't use the urinals or bathe in the men's section of an onsen anymore."

"That's troubling," Kyousuke’s dad said. "The Crush Gear world seems one full of mysteries."

"Indeed," Claude said. "It lets us encounter lots of what we don't know or understand."

"Ojisan, did you see my match with the fighter Carlos?" Kouya asked. "The clash of our Gears was so powerful that it could be seen from outer space!"

"Yes, it was on the news. Well, as a single parent, I've basically been both Kyousuke's father and mother, so I suppose I could get used to seeing him as a son and daughter rolled into one."

"Don't get too used to it," Kyousuke muttered.

Everyone thanked Kyousuke's dad for his understanding, then Kaoru called for everyone to head back to the club for practice. As they filed out of the office, Kyousuke stayed behind to talk to his dad alone.

"I know it's pretty crazy, but it won't last forever," Kyousuke said. "All the weird changes aside, I'm still...me."

"And I'll always be your father," his dad replied.

Getting up from his seat, he reached out his hand. When in one of his fatherly moods, he liked to lay not one but a couple of pats on Kyousuke's head and ask when Kyousuke had his last haircut. Kyousuke waited for him to start their familiar pattern, only for his dad to break it as he stopped to hover his palm over the top of Kyousuke's head, just a hair breadth's shy of putting it on Kyousuke's red bandana.

He delivered his double pats to Kyousuke's shoulder instead. As if acting like a different dad to a different kid — the daughter he never had.

Kyousuke disliked having to put up with any more changes, even small ones. Scowling and grumbling under his breath, he took his dad's wrist and transferred his dad's hand to his head.

Without letting go, he looked at the surface of the desk. When his dad spoke next, Kyousuke heard the smile in his voice.

"As a girl, maybe you can try keeping your hair long."

**

More changes lied in store for Kyousuke, starting with having to change two habits that defined his daily routine — one, pissing while standing, and two, leaving his workshop at a late hour or even on the next day.

Over multiple washroom trips, sitting down to pee accumulated enough wasted minutes to cut into his working hours. Or at least it appeared to be the case with his dad imposing a limit on Kyousuke's allotted time to bury himself in his work at the factory. Forced to go home together once it got dark, Kyousuke put up a fight and launched his protests, but for once his usually easygoing parent wouldn't hear a word of it.

"It's different when you're a girl," his dad said.

"Anyone who doesn't know can't tell," Kyousuke argued. "You couldn't."

"Even so, I'm against letting you walk around alone at night. Anything could happen and then I might have neither a son nor a daughter."

Their tedious back and forth continued until Kyousuke said, "I'm getting thirsty and hungry. Can we get ramen?"

"Sounds good," his dad replied.

Then he headed upstairs, leaving Kyousuke alone in his workshop once more just to pack up.

Neither of them said much on their way to a ramen restaurant that they both liked. There, they sat side by side on counter seats and both ordered a bowl of tonkotsu ramen, with beer for Kyosuke's dad and a glass of iced green tea for Kyousuke himself.

In between hoovering long strands of noodles, his dad said, "I can't bribe you with good food every day, but I'll try."

Kyousuke only hummed and slurped a spoonful of pork broth.

Contented with a bellyful of good food, he thought about what his dad told him. What his dad had really been telling him with the ban on burning the midnight oil in his workshop on his own.

'Idiot son, just let me protect and support you in the only way I can!'

Not that his or any other dad would call him an 'idiot son,' but he preferred being one than what he was right then.

"Raising daughters is tough..."

His dad's thoughts seem to be running on a different but parallel tangent.

Kyousuke picked up his glass, drank some cold green tea and said, "I really can't imagine you raising one."

"If you were born a girl, what would I do," his dad mused. "Probably, I'd have to say at least a word or two after hearing you cry over a boy."

"How did you know!?"

Kyousuke set his glass down with more force than necessary. His mind paraded bits and pieces of his year without Claude — him dwelling in a whirlpool of despair and fury, reliving his loss whenever he stopped obsessing about the technicalities of creating and modifying Gears. The wave of memories suffocated him, and as he regulated his breathing, he clenched his fists.

Frowning, his dad turned to him and said, "That's just an example of what I'd think if I hear my daughter crying. Did it really happen? Did you really cry over a boy?"

"It's not like that," Kyousuke muttered. "And once, I made a girl cry."

"You did?"

The breaking apart of Tiger Flare resounded again in Kyousuke's head, along with Lan Fang's sobs that travelled across the arena in the aftermath of their heartrending match — yet another regrettable memory that he did not care to relive.

"Yeah," he said. "I'd rather see her smile."

That got him a smile from his dad, which was soon hidden behind his dad's mug of beer. While he drank, they lapsed into a silence ending with the thunk of the mug on the counter.

"Your blond friend..."

Kyousuke had only one blond friend. His every nerve coiled around his every muscle.

"He looks like the kind of boy that girls tend to cry over," his dad said. "Is he your club's World Champion?"

Kyousuke sighed. "No, that'd be Kouya. The other small boy in my club."

"I see. When you were changed in the forest, did you get any smaller?"

"No, thankfully."

"Thankfully."

Forest Magic was not perverse enough to shrink Kyousuke and turn him even littler. Counting their blessings, Kyousuke and his dad clinked their glasses of green tea and beer together.

**

Video clips of Gaiki's fights, along with expert commentary on them as featured on Crush Gear talk shows, were indexed and uploaded on Manganji Takeshi's official website. Kyousuke downloaded to his computer those he had yet to see, even if knowing Manganji, any information available to the public about his fights was likely harmless or outdated. Close analysis might still uncover a clue about the next trick up his sleeve or whether he had indeed hit his peak in Gear Fighting after falling one place short of becoming the World Champion, and should dominate a different field to save his reputation as a member of the elite.

Kyousuke's vision of Manganji, over the hill and fine with it, was nothing more than his wishful thinking. Tobita Club's rise to the top of the world had not dragged down their smug nemesis from high up, for each showdown entwined them even more. In looking up news about Manganji, articles on Tobita Club filled Kyousuke's computer screen. These featured similar shots of the club's familiar building crowded with aspiring members of various genders, ages and ethnicities. Lots, in fact most, had to wait outside in a queue that snaked around the building.

Starting from the long hoped for boom in membership sign-ups, Kouya's victory in the World Cup finals bestowed a glow about the club's future, one brighter and longer-lasting than their brief wave of media attention during their winning streak toward qualifying to compete in the Asia Cup. For them to sustain their growth, they had to begin operating like a big club before resettling into the cozy, informal team culture that they thrived in.

Lilika and the managers had put together a schedule of fights between senior and new members, then for new members to fight among themselves, as part of team bonding for the whole club and to sort the members into groups based on their level of skill. Then, Lilika and the senior fighters could assign everyone with a training menu appropriate for their current ability, and arrange for match-ups among groups to challenge and inspire one another.

Kyousuke heard it all from his teammates whenever they dropped by the factory to share updates and have Gear Fights with him. They described too the interesting Gears with unusual customisation that newcomers brought into the club. The secondhand details tickled Kyousuke's imagination, weakening his resolve to act the reclusive Gear Master and stay away from the club until he had changed himself back. Remaining apart had not been as easy as before, when going solo was second nature to him, for a deeper, non-magical change had taken place in his year as a member of Tobita Club that got him looking forward to being with his teammates.

Everyone else kept him from missing them too much through their frequent visits. Claude appeared most often, either to see how Kyousuke was doing or relay findings from his recent Gear Fights for tuning up the rebuilt Shooting Phantom.

Their meetings seemed a continuation of their days collaborating on creating Dino Phalanx and Shooting Phantom. Days which passed with them getting a fuller understanding of each other's power and personality to translate into the composition of their upgraded Gears. Their partnership had never been more valuable to Kyousuke, encouraged and challenged by Claude in all the right ways.

Its one downside was its abstract nature, keeping Kyousuke from holding it in his hand.

Like a Gear and its parts.

Like the AI microchip that Kyousuke let Claude destroy to mark Claude's success in facing the weakness of his true self.

Like any of Kyousuke's creations, fixed and unchanging unless altered by Kyousuke's own hand.

Without willing for it to happen, the magic that changed Kyousuke also changed his partnership with Claude. They were united once more, not to pursue glory, but to fix a mistake.

Kyousuke's mistake of asking for power without knowing its price. Through seeing what happened as his fault, he regained some control over his fate, and could appear less like a helpless wimp in front of Claude or anyone else.

Fixated in beating himself up, he became careless in his latest Gear Fight against Claude, allowing Shooting Phantom to knock Dino Phalanx out of the ring in the factory. As Kyousuke's Gear bounced off the concrete floor and landed on its back, his heart ached.

He apologised to Dino for letting it become a victim of his idiocy.

He crouched to pick up his Gear, waiting for Claude's criticism. Reviewing in his head what Claude would not have missed – his sloppy release, for one.

"I've got an idea that might be interesting."

After Kyousuke turned to him, Claude went on to say, "You could resurrect Dino Spartan to have it fight together with Dino Phalanx against Shooting Phantom."

Kyousuke frowned. "Where did that even come from? Has winning one lousy fight got you big-headed, that you think you can take on alone two of my Gears?"

"The idea was inspired by another idea to fight the battle between falsehood and truth in both kendo and Crush Gear. It inspired me to visualize the evolution of Lightning Flash," Claude replied. "And I thought a two on one match would bring even more inspiration. Besides, wouldn't it be interesting to see how three of your best creations perform when fighting one another?"

"Whether it's interesting or not doesn't matter. I just can't play around like that when I’m the way I am."

"To have fun and interesting Gear Fights for perfecting your craft – I thought that's your way of living as both a Gear Fighter and a Gear Master."

"I can't live like that when –"

"Do you really have to totally give up on living the life that you want? And stop yourself from doing what you'd have done, if we returned from Germany without incident?"

"It's not me who's stopping myself. It's..."

"The magic? I don't see how it could keep you from having the fights you want."

No, it was him – Claude himself. The thought of him merely carrying out his duty to have tiresome fights with Kyousuke blocked Kyousuke's pursuit for anything outside of undoing what the magic had done to him. Claude's freedom from its effects mattered as much as Kyousuke's own.

"You're not living the way you want either," Kyousuke said. "You don't bring your shinai here anymore."

He stared at the empty spot near one of the factory's walls, where Claude used to prop his bamboo sword in its cloth sleeve. Training together before or after one of Claude's kendo classes had been common for them, and even in the midst of polishing his Gear Fighting, Claude liked to get in some swings of his shinai at the expense of bothering Kyousuke.

The World Cup and its matches held overseas had taken Claude far away from his dojo and kendo classes. While doing his all as a member of Tobita Club, he had kept in check his eagerness to get back to practising his beloved martial art.

Kyousuke saw through him. He saw Claude's longing to fight as a swordsman and spar at close range instead of on two opposite ends of a ring. To not wield his shinai – an extension of himself like Shooting Phantom itself – was to neglect his truth.

"My shinai's right here," Claude said.

"Where?" Kyousuke asked.

"Here."

Against the centre of Kyousuke's chest, Claude flattened his palm. Its warmth quickened the blood under Kyousuke's skin as well as his heart's pounding.

"My weapon, my power and my courage," Claude said. "They're all for you to hold on to."

Each fresh intake of breath sent more warm rushes flowing to different places within Kyousuke, and only then did he learn how deadened and numb he had been. Being close to Claude was like proximity to life itself.

Life…or magic. The magic that ruined Kyousuke's life.

"I've got more than enough of those," Kyousuke snapped.

As he batted Claude's hand away, the side of Claude's fingers bumped one of Kyousuke's small boobs. A warm tingling skidded across Kyousuke’s skin, and he gasped, clutching where Claude had laid his hand.

"Kyousuke! Are you all right?"

Claude stepped closer to Kyousuke, holding out his arm. Kyousuke’s urge to run to him — to be caught and held — became overpowering, colliding with his defenses constructed out of his willpower.

Stepping away, Kyousuke shouted, "I’m fine!"

"You don’t seem fine," Claude said.

Even if he doubted how fine Kyousuke really was, he remained still and did not try to cross into Kyousuke’s personal space. Kyousuke appreciated Claude’s reserve while also preferring Claude to have less of it, for he did in truth want Claude to bust through his defenses instead of tearing them down himself.

"I’m fine," Kyousuke repeated. "I’ll just sit in my workshop for the rest of the day. You’re free to go for your kendo class or wherever."

"I can’t just leave you if you’re unwell," Claude insisted.

"I’m not," Kyousuke said. "And guess what, I don’t want you taking all my fights against the newbies at the club anymore."

"Are you going to start going back for training?"

"You’ll see. You’ll see me again...or someone who looks like me."

**

Early on Saturday morning, a knock on the door of Kyousuke's workshop interrupted him completing his disguise. Annoyed, he regretted not leaving earlier and having to entertain others in his current get-up. As he turned to the door, Kouya and Kaoru let themselves in, each carrying a blue tote bag on one shoulder.

The two visitors cried out in unison, "Kyousuke!"

Kyousuke's irritation faded on seeing the bags that they brought along.

He asked, "Are those this month's magazines?"

The club subscribed to a few Crush Gear publications covering Gear Fight analyses, write-ups on fighters, reviews of parts and mass-produced Gears and other articles discussing trends and issues in the Crush Gear world. Aside from these subscriptions, the managers had taken to getting copies of other magazines for special features on their team, which had been mounting with the raise in their profile.

"Yep," Kaoru said. "Are you wearing contact lenses?"

"And a gakuran?" Kouya asked.

"If you can't tell, then you need contact lenses. Quick, hand those bags over."

Into his hands, Kouya and Kaoru passed the bags of magazines. He tried to disregard their scrutiny while pulling apart the bags' handles and peering inside.

At Kaoru, he said, "Couldn't you cut out the important articles in advance?"

"Many of the articles are printed back to back. If you cut out one important to you, and leave another article important to another member missing a good chunk, what will you do, huh? And don't you know how overloaded we are with administrative duties these days?"

With each sentence, Kaoru took a step closer to Kyousuke, etching through her glower the importance of treating the club's property with care. Kyousuke managed to stand firm in the face of her unfeminine mannerisms, hiding the slight quaking behind his knees, instead of backing himself into a corner of the room like Kouya.

"Speaking of duties, Kouya and I got to go to the club and start the day's fights," Kaoru said. "But first, spill, what's up with the gakuran and contacts?"

"You guys have been deprived of the Genius Gear Master's magnificence for far too long. Later, I'll be at the club too and I’ll see how you've been handling the newbies, whether you're wiping the floor or treating them with kid gloves. This disguise," Kyousuke pulled up the black rectangular band around his neck that was the collar of his black long-sleeve top, "is just in case any more magical changes happen that I don't want linked to me, once I'm back to normal."

The material of his black uniform for junior high, which started in a few weeks, was thick and restrictive. He disliked it less for getting him to look a little longer and older.

As for the contact lenses, it took him the better part of an hour to put them on. At first, the nerve he had mustered collapsed after pulling up one eyelid and tugging down the skin at the base of the same eye. Seeing the whiteness around his eyeball and the red semi-circle beneath forced him to see himself as an assembly of moist, squishy parts, imprecisely built unlike a machine. The evidence of his frail humanity did not hold him back for long, for he got over it, thinking that placing the flimsy lens on his eyeball was not that frightening compared to losing his dick.

Returning to Kaoru's side, Kouya said, "The gakuran's pretty cool and you look good without glasses."

"Yeah," Kaoru said. "Still, the change is too small just from wearing a school uniform and taking off your glasses."

"I know the disguise's not enough to fool those who've seen me lots like the two of you," Kyousuke said. "But it'll be different for strangers."

"For once, I agree with Kaoru," Kouya chimed in. "My identity was exposed in the Gear Pankatrium even after I wore baggy clothes, covered my face and fought under a silly nickname. To become unrecognisable, drastic changes are no doubt necessary."

"Yeah, you see...Ah!"

Both Kyousuke and Kouya started at Kaoru's abrupt cry. Struck by a brainwave, she straightened her back and gone went her frown spelling what she thought of Kyousuke's admittedly not a hundred percent impenetrable cover.

She said, "I've got an idea for a much better disguise! Kyousuke, stay here and don't go anywhere until I'm done getting some stuff from my house. Kouya, make your own way to the club, okay?"

"What kind of disguise are you thinking of?" Kyousuke asked.

"You'll see!"

Kouya's chatter about his interview for one of the magazines, and the cool quotes and photos to look out for, kept Kyousuke from saying anything else.

Alone once more in his workshop, he paced back and forth. He had a good guess of the idea Kaoru had in mind. A disguise composed of her stuff — it’d work, as long as he relinquished his dignity to wherever his junk had vanished to.

He shuddered and shook his head. He turned to the door, then back around to march to his desk and sit on his swivel chair. Any imminent loss of his dignity could always be recouped by the truckload once he got back into the swing of taking on and beating one Gear Fighter after another. Telling himself that, he picked up the little bottle of eyedrops that was given free with his box of contact lenses and squeezed it over his half-closed left eye. Just as a distraction while staying in place.

The coolness of the eyedrop spread across his cornea as he reflected on the ridiculousness of his situation, of acting like he was stuck in his workshop — his domain. Swearing under his breath, he headed for the door again with surer steps just when Kaoru barged in and blocked his escape.

In her hand, she held another tote bag which she thrust at Kyousuke.

"Here," she said. "Put these on. I’m lending you my clothes."

Just as Kyousuke thought. Kaoru’s bag, yellow with cartoon hamsters on its front, contained a set of clothes not too girly in their design yet were still clearly not meant for boys. He rummaged through the pieces in the bag — nothing pink, nothing with frills, nothing to blow Kyousuke’s masculinity to smithereens except for one item that got him shrieking and tossing everything, bag and all, into the air.

Before it hit the floor, Kaoru caught her bag, saying, "What's that for?"

"I'm not going to wear a...a bra!" Kyousuke shouted.

Kaoru glanced into her bag, where the white cotton garment with thin shoulder straps lied nestled among her other clothes. "You should, and it's only a training bra, which is like a singlet for girls."

"A bra is a bra, no matter what kind it is. I've been getting on fine without wearing one and I'm not about to start."

"I should have known," Kaoru muttered, as if to herself. "Sure, it's fine with your current clothes, but not with these."

Raising her bag, she said, "What's under your shirt is going to be very obvious if you go without a bra. During a fight, would you like to give an eyeful of that to a guy on the other end of the ring? And have him stare at your chest instead of your Gear?"

Kyousuke smirked. "Sounds like a unique edge I've got to take down unworthy opponents and clean out the hidden perverts. Wouldn't you and the other girls like that?"

"What if Claude's your opponent? He's on today's fight roster."

"...Just wait outside while I change."

In his new disguise, no one cared or took particular notice when Kyousuke joined the queue of new fighters outside Tobita Club. Even as his self-consciousness over his appearance receded, he kept his head down and his face covered under the bucket hat which Kaoru included with her clothes.

The hat, white and trimmed with a blue ribbon, matched the white blouse and blue shorts that Kyousuke borrowed. The blouse had a scooped neckline and puffy sleeves. For each sleeve, a circle of elastic was sown to its underside.

Both sleeves clung to the skin of Kyousuke's upper arms. Unused to the light yet insistent bite of the elastic, he tugged the side of one sleeve away from his skin and released it, over and over again. One strong tug slid the entire sleeve down his arm, uncovering the training bra's strap underneath.

He failed to hold in a little gasp. Hastily, he shoved his sleeve up his shoulder and swiveled his head to look behind. Nobody was there, which meant his accidental self-exposure had no witnesses.

Soon, a boy around his age approached, holding a Gear in his hand and getting in line. Kyousuke stiffened and faced his front.

Only three others were ahead of him. His wait dragged on, even if by right his teammates could have finished their fights to test the newbies' skills way before the usual time limit. He suspected they were entertaining those dying to rub shoulders with the members of the winning team. Perhaps his teammates wished to trade places with him, missing in action and excused from performing social niceties.

He wanted to see it — what the other guys would do and how they might look if they did take his place as the target of the Black Forest's magic. His imagination drew a mental picture of Kaoru putting Kouya in a dress, and had to conceal the guffaw threatening to burst out of him.

He let it out after taking up and opening one of the Crush Gear magazines on loan from the club that had been tucked under his arm. Anyone passing by would think his laughter was for pictures of Manganji printed on the magazine's glossy page. The article attached involved an analysis of his fights in the various stages of the World Cup, interspersed with commentary from Manganji himself.

The piece touched on Manganji's origins as a member of Tobita Club. A section discussed his performance in his first World Cup, when he fought with Alex and the older brothers of Kouya and Fuuko. His losses then became his foundation for building a record of straight wins in the following years, and Manganji claimed he learned well from both his opponents and his teammates.

Absorbed in reading, Kyousuke barely noticed someone coming to stand next to him.

"Your name, please?"

"Jin Kyou–"

Hearing his own voice jerked his focus back in place.

His heart leapt on recognising the lanky boy speaking to him as one of Manganji's former lackeys who had rejoined Tobita Club. Kaoru mentioned taking him and the other one on to assist in administrative tasks, which they had taken charge of when they were part of Manganji Club. As Kyousuke turned to him, the boy lowered the pen and clipboard in his hands to get a better look at Kyousuke's reading material.

"Oh, it's Manganji-san!" Manganji's ex-lackey brightened as he noticed the images in the magazine article. "Are you a fan of him?"

"No freaking way!"

Kyousuke snapped the Crush Gear magazine shut. Beside him, the boy reared back, and Kyousuke rushed to correct himself.

"I mean…I wouldn't be here if I were. I was only reading the article for the part about Tobita Club's early history."

"You can ask me anything you'd like to know about that! When I first joined Tobita Club, Manganji-san was still a member and he personally taught me everything he knew about Crush Gear. By the way, I'm Gomano Shinnosuke. You were saying your name was Jin Kyou…?"

"Kyouko." Kyousuke's entire brain cringed as he said, "It's Jin Kyouko."

"Jin Kyouko," Gomano repeated, writing it with his pen on the paper fastened to his clipboard. "Could you be in any way related to one of our fighters, the Gear Master Jin Kyousuke?"

"Yes, he’s my cousin."

"Is that so?"

Gomano’s way of looking Kyousuke up and down, marveling and admiring, announced that he had been taken in, hook, line and sinker. Kyousuke’s disguise worked after all, yet he wanted to squirm away with his conscience kicking him for fooling a boy lacking in brain cells.

Even with Kaoru’s clothes doing the heavy lifting for maintaining his cover, he elaborated on the backstory for his new alias.

"I’ve looked up to my cousin since we were kids," he said. "My Gear is a replica of his old one."

He held up the second generation Dino Spartan that he had built. On the outside, it looked like an exact copy of the Gear which he fought with until the Asia Cup finals. The differences between it and the old Dino would only surface during a fight.

"They’re exactly alike," Gomano said. "But you and your cousin are so different!"

The temptation to allude to the truth, like a guilty criminal wanting to be caught, grew within Kyousuke.

To keep it in check, Kyousuke said, "I believe it’s my turn to fight."

After answering a couple other questions on his history and experience as a Gear Fighter, Gomano led him inside the club. Past its doors, he took his hat off. He glanced at the ring to know the opponent of his fake female cousin's debut match. On its end furthest from the club's entrance, Claude awaited him. Kyousuke let their eyes meet before curling his lips into a smile.

In exchange, he only got Claude's polite nod, free of any flicker of awareness for the familiar male teammate wrapped in a set of unfamiliar feminine clothing. No surprise, no amusement, nothing at all.

Gomano acted as the referee for their fight.

He declared, "Next fight, Marume Claude versus Jin Kyouko!"

No visible reaction from Claude to his opponent's name as he set up his release. Kyousuke did the same. If his disguise had taken Claude in as it did Gomano, if that stayed unchanged even after their fight, then Claude proved a bigger fool than Kyousuke thought.

Since Tobita Club's regulars agreed to not use their signature techniques in testing the skills of new members, Kyousuke managed to ring out Claude without raising anyone's suspicion.

"You fought well…Kyouko."

Claude delivered his praise with the smile that Kyousuke had been waiting for. Just a faint, brief quirk of his lips telling him that he knew, complementing the soft and fond look in his eyes.

Like after their last fight in the factory, Kyousuke's chest grew warm. The wispy texture of his blouse and the clutch of its sleeves' elastic bands around his upper arms seemed to become more pronounced.

Kyousuke hugged himself, opening his mouth and wanting to call out to Claude, when Gomano stood between them.

"You were excellent! Did you learn from your cousin how to fight like that?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"How nice to have family benefits. Of all our regulars, he's the one with the largest store of knowledge on Marume Claude."

"I guess…"

"All that's left to complete your registration is a short interview with one of our managers in our office. I'll bring you there after getting your Gear for you."

"Don't! I dislike others touching it."

When Kyousuke got past Gomano, Claude had exited the ring, having taken Shooting Phantom to a desk for starting on its basic maintenance.

**

Participating in club activities as 'Jin Kyouko' became Kyousuke's solution for ending his self-enforced isolation. His teammates were willing to get in on the act, trading the pretense that he was his regular self, male and sane, for another one which involved him taking on the identity of a regular girl. It fixed in his mind the temporary nature of his days’ crazy irregularities, like Kyouko’s presence itself.

Staying in character as her seemed Kyousuke's next greatest challenge. He had to change how he talked through referring to himself with feminine pronouns and attributing any advanced knowledge of Crush Gear to his esteemed Gear Master cousin. Talking like that engendered a squeamish aftertaste on his tongue, which he could only roll in his mouth and swallow down into the depths of his bowels.

There, his discomfort continued to churn like magma crashing against the inner lining of his stomach. A product of stress-induced indigestion, surely, and warranted nothing more than a trip to the drugstore to cure.

What he suffered turned out to be no ordinary ailment, but another unwelcome change, one he had been both anticipating and hoping against.

It sent him charging into his dad's empty office for the phone. The receiver fell from his jittery grasp as he spiraled into madness. He jabbed at the phone's protruding buttons and had to redial his club's official number more than once.

"Hello, you have reached Tobita Club," Kaoru spoke on the other end. "How may I help you?"

"Lilika! Lilika-san…I've got to speak to her!"

"Kyousuke, is that you? Lilika-san is not here yet."

"It's an emergency!"

"What's wrong? Tell me!"

"I'm…I'm bleeding! There's blood in my pee and everywhere –"

Kyousuke's sob choked off his words and his breath. Sheer terror forced out tears that landed on the office's desk.

"Oh no! Stay right where you are and I'll be there soon with Lilika-san."

"I’ll…" Kyousuke punched the desk to cover up the escape of a shuddering sob. "I'll be in my workshop."

"Listen – you're going to be all right."

Kyousuke hung up. He really should leave in case his dad or anyone in the factory walked in on him sniveling and going to pieces.

Stumbling to his workshop, all he saw was red — the colour of the blood leaking from between his legs and the fury he harboured towards the whims of fate. He let the door swing close behind him and sank to the floor, hurting all over. The centre of his pervasive ache lied in his stomach. He pressed his hand to it as he screwed his eyes shut, seeing more red in the little crimson pinpricks dotting the darkness surrounding him.

He put off reopening his eyes even when he heard footsteps enter his workshop and the voices of Kaoru and Lilika calling his name. They joined him on the floor and one of them folded him into her embrace. From the tenderness and security that it brought him, he knew the pair of arms around him belonged to Lilika.

As for Kaoru, she encouraged him to cry, patting his back and telling him to let it all out. All his despair, she claimed, were meant to flow away along with his tears and blood.

**

Premenstrual Syndrome: the catch-all term for the symptoms leading up to a menstrual period. These included cramps, excessive fatigue, irritability, outbursts of emotion and hot flushes as a result of hormonal changes to start the flow of blood every month.

The physical suffering brought about by Kyousuke's changed organs piled upon his ongoing mental torment. Yet reading up on it revealed its funny side when Kyousuke noticed the similarity between the signs of a girl afflicted with premenstrual syndrome symptoms and his typical unsociable behaviour — getting easily sad or pissed off, wanting to be left alone and being disinclined to talk or move much. Perhaps Forest Magic did a good deed in presenting him with a biological excuse for some of his worst traits.

Through taking comfort in cracking meaningless jokes like that, he got himself outdoors and into the club, and carried out his resolution to be with his teammates regardless of whatever magic or hormones did to him.

His latest change thwarted the girls' usual pattern of encouraging him to open up to everyone else about his mental and physical condition. They promised to keep it to themselves and shared their methods for getting through their so-called time of the month. Lilika liked to drink lots of soup, while Kaoru would get a bit more handsy when teasing Kouya.

Kyousuke took what they shared as bits of their own private business to bond the three of them in secrecy. A pity, since on first hearing them, he thought about advising Jirou to please Lilika through getting her more oden and Kouya to watch out for the week in any month when Kaoru got fonder of pinching his cheeks.

In place of his sessions with Claude at the factory, which clashed with the timings of Claude’s kendo lessons, Kyousuke headed to the club and acted like he wanted to have fights that had nothing to do with crafting a strategy for Shooting Phantom to defeat Gaiki. As he predicted, Claude took it as an invitation to take a break from working on Kyousuke's problem as well, and went back to training at his dojo.

Gear Fighting and modifying his Gear’s settings as Kyouko exhausted Kyousuke’s brains and hands. Displaying basic competence without looking like either a beginner or an expert took the lion’s share of his energy, and he had little to spare to think about anything else.

Yet his thoughts about Claude, when his teammate himself was nowhere near, crashed into his mind uninvited and were accompanied with sudden rushes of warmth like those he got around Claude in person.

These tended to happen right after a particularly nasty stomach cramp. They must be the doing of his female anatomy, summoning the memory of a pleasant sensation to soothe the ache in his lower half. An evolutionary scheme to ramp up the powerful force of nature drawing boys and girls together for tricking the latter into thinking that bleeding once a month wasn’t so bad.

But evolution or biology did not explain Kyousuke’s unique association of his warm rushes with Claude alone. Whenever one started, he could not help but hold Claude’s image in his head, just to unspool more of the gentle heat within him.

He wanted to know if the same phenomenon affected Claude as well. If he also managed to warm Claude up from afar, as Kyousuke had done to another boy in Tobita Club.

Or rather, as Kyouko did to Gomano without lifting a hair.

Kyousuke figured it out after one of his recent fights, when Gomano ran up to his end of the ring and offered him a disposable cup filled with water.

"For you, Kyouko-chan!" Gomano said.

"Do I look thirsty to you?" Kyousuke asked.

"Erm, no," Gomano said with a sheepish laugh. "It’s just, the weather’s getting hotter."

"Really? The strong wind outside followed me all the way to the club."

"Ah, then you should wear a jacket so you won’t fall sick."

"I’m sick of —"

Kyousuke stopped himself there. Though sick of their pointless talk, he did not say it to Gomano’s face. Being too rude might provoke Gomano into badmouthing Kyouko and attract unwanted attention.

As Gomano stared at Kyousuke, waiting for him to speak more, Kyousuke snatched the cup in his hand. He drank some water and walked away from the ring, letting someone else take his spot for the next fight.

Gomano stuck close to him, saying, "This place is a lot smaller than the training rooms of Manganji Club. I forgot how hot it can get with this many people training together in one room."

"Is that so?"

"Kyouko-chan, you raise the room’s temperature the most. Among all the new members, you stand out with your burning passion for Crush Gear."

"Then I’d better leave to let everyone else cool down."

"No! No, don’t, I didn’t mean —"

"Gomano! Could you come over here?"

To answer Kaoru’s summon, Gomano took his leave, and Kyousuke was saved from having to tolerate more of his nonsense.

Kyousuke hid his smile behind his cup as he took another sip of water. Midway down his throat, he almost hacked it back up, for it occurred to him that Gomano had, in a roundabout way, called him hot.

No, not him, he wasn’t Gomano’s hot girl.

Kyouko’s the one he had a passionate crush on.

Kyousuke actually walked out the club then, just to run around the block and laugh his heart out. Soon, his stomach cramps slowed him down and sweat dampened the back of another borrowed blouse that he had on him.

Thanks to his damp top, the gusts of wind sweeping the streets chilled him even more. Gooseflesh popped across his arms just as a memory broke through the surface of his mind — a comforting embrace, not the one he got from Lilika in his workshop, but the one given by Claude to console him after the devastating loss to Manganji.

He gritted his teeth and treated his arms to a series of furious rubs, flattening the fine hairs standing on their ends. Against the bracing wind, he retraced his steps to Tobita Club, emptying his mind along the way.

Thinking about Claude at the onset of any kind of suffering had become Kyousuke’s awful habit. One which in fact started long before he encountered the Black Forest’s magic, when he had suffered because of Claude.

**

What did Kyousuke have to do to affect Claude in the same way? To sustain their special connection? To earn his place in Claude’s thoughts?

Every now and then, Kyousuke asked himself these questions, ever since Claude joined Tobita club after him. After Claude exploited a weakness of Kyousuke’s AI microchip and nearly beating him to sever their ties forever. Frayed as they were, those ties held — first clenched in Kyousuke’s metaphorical bruised and bloody hands, then strengthened as they intertwined with other ties connecting the entire team.

For a while, Kyousuke went out of his way to ruin any comfort Claude might get from him, denying even brief looks of understanding, not wanting Claude to get friendly or indifferent in case he had to bring Claude face to face with the harsh truth of Claude’s underlying cowardice. That done, he found himself dragged along to their very start, changed in more ways than one yet sharing the same wants as his younger and more naive self.

He wanted Claude to genuinely look forward to seeing him. Not as a charity case, not as an awkward freak someone had to be nice to, but as someone worth caring about and whose acts of caring mattered.

At the club, where they saw each other, he took care to appear carefree and thriving with his Kyouko act, and waited for Claude to approach him during a training session. To bring Shooting Mirage for his inspection as well as some comments on his appearance. Out of his borrowed feminine clothing and accessories, he crafted a combination resembling his signature look as the one and only Genius Gear Master.

Then Claude ended his training early to attend a family gathering and headed off with a general farewell. Neither his Gear nor very many words from him were presented to Kyousuke that day.

From Gomano, Kyousuke got in spades unwanted comments and favours. Throughout the session, he was offered cups of water and to have his Gear kit carried for him, as if the dangers of dehydration and muscle strain were too great for Jin Kyouko. Kyousuke thought of asking Gomano to instead chum around with the other former Manganji lackey, the one he used to be inseparable from, but that guy was nowhere in the club.

Gomano knew where his other half had gone to. He cracked a joke about Momita working out with Jirou and their other juniors just to shovel down red bean buns right after and not get any slimmer.

Then Kyousuke resorted to acting the wilting flower that Kyouko seemed. He claimed he wanted a quiet place to rest and fled into the club's office. Along with its door, he shut out his ungenerous opinion on Gomano's incapability of existing without attaching himself to someone else.

Inside, only Fuuko typed away in front of the desktop screen. Kyousuke exchanged a short greeting with the younger female manager before he opened a cabinet to search among the stash of Crush Gear magazines.

Fuuko paused her typing and said, "We haven't got anything with new articles on Manganji-san."

"I'm not looking for that," Kyousuke replied.

Of all his secret keepers, Kyousuke knew the least about Nagidori Fuuko. Everyone deemed it safer to tell her too after hearing Kaoru's argument that as a fellow girl, Fuuko was likely to see through Kyousuke's fabricated girliness. Both Kaoru and Kouya, speaking as Fuuko's longtime friends, also vouched for her ability to protect big secrets.

For ages, Fuuko kept under wraps her brother's history as a former regular of Tobita Club and her dad's Gear Fighting monkey. A monkey that would have otherwise been taken to Manganji Laboratory, where Kyousuke might end up dwelling in if reversing the magic's changes turned out impossible after all.

While thinking about his life taking one more dark turn, he unearthed a magazine with a bright pink cover.

The publication catered to young girls in general and only released pieces on Crush Gear to ride on the massive worldwide hype generated by the World Club. Kyousuke learned of it in the midst of his online research, and about its one issue containing a write-up featuring one of Tobita Club’s key members. For that alone, he was sure of the club having bought a copy for their archives.

His retreat to the office and the happenings in the club's main training area motivated him to actually look for the magazine. He held it in his hands and took in the face of an unfamiliar male celebrity against the cover's pink background. White text printed along the edges promised writings on winter fashion, skincare, recent dramas and other topics that clashed with his serious and technical interests. After another skim of the magazine cover, he hugged his reading material to his chest, ignoring his dread of being seen with it, and crept under the cover of Fuuko's typing to the desk furthest from the office's door.

He set the magazine down, took his seat and put his finger to an orange sticky tab along the top of the issue. Opening the page marked out brought him to some professionally taken pictures of Claude. Below one of Claude performing his release for an official match, the section's heading was printed in purple, Claude's signature colour.

'Marume Claude Nine,' it read. It was clarified two paragraphs down as a reference to Claude's victory over Eddie Kobayashi and his Break Nine in their televised match for the Buthokan Cup Finals.

The write-up on Claude was just one part of a longer article about Gear Fighters who excelled in more than one sport. As Kyousuke flipped the pages back and forth, glancing at other pictures of semi-familiar Gear Fighters, his mind replayed a past conversation at the club involving the very same article.

Jirou had lamented the magazine passing over including him in their selection of multi-talented Gear Fighters despite his impressive collection of baseball trophies. Then Claude shared that he only gave his permission to be included to prevent the spread of misinformation about himself.

It meant Kyousuke could treat as accurate what was written in the article’s section on Claude. He absorbed the details of Claude’s ethnicity (three-quarters Japanese and a quarter Russian, and not even a bit French), Claude’s birthday (eight months earlier than Kyousuke’s birthday) and Claude’s height (he was that much taller than Kyousuke). All basic facts that Kyousuke had not known before and which Claude had never shared in their personal conversations.

He read Claude’s description of his ideal type. ‘Loyal and sincere’. Just vague bullshit to throw busybodies off his scent and for Kyousuke to snigger at.

He saved for last the list of kendo tournaments which Claude had placed in. Most of them were held in the year of Claude’s hiatus from Crush Gear — the year after his and Kyousuke’s departure from Team Griffon.

The list clarified the stark contrast between how they led their lives in the wake of their partnership’s dissolution. While Kyousuke stewed in the dark hellhole of his resentment, Claude shone as a swordsman. Not just as an athlete, but also as a modern heroic samurai capable of knocking out a swarm of bees with a wooden stick and rescuing a couple of idiots, which Kyousuke learnt through the story of Claude’s first meeting with Kouya and Jirou. Claude’s light had retained its brightness beyond the world of Crush Gear, beyond the fights in which Kyousuke supported him with the very best of his expertise.

At Claude’s best, he could do without Kyousuke. Kyousuke’s unshakable confidence in his skills as a Gear Master had not deluded him into thinking otherwise. The stronger Claude got at fighting for both others and himself, the less Kyousuke had to offer him, even as seeing Claude flourishing deepened Kyousuke’s attachment to Claude and turned it even more lopsided on his end.

He chafed under the constraints of his limitations, that were his limited offerings for someone who had everything and more.

To know what else he could do for Claude, Kyousuke persisted in understanding him better, starting from finishing the magazine write-up. He had only one last caption to read. Under two columns of photographs of Claude excelling in Crush Gear and kendo, the small text commented on both sophisticated Western clothes and traditional kendogi suiting him well. As Kyousuke admitted it to be true, he saw in his mind what he doubted any photograph had captured — a flash of Claude's bare upper back and shoulders, caught just before Claude was done pulling on his white dress shirt while Kyousuke lied half-awake in bed in one of the overseas hotel room they shared.

Claude had looked Kyousuke’s way, smiling and continuing to fasten his shirt’s buttons, and asked if Kyousuke had slept well.

Claude’s ease in carrying out his morning routine proved he meant what he said about not having to keep his distance after the announcement of their match against each other. It distinguished the moment from other mundane ones involving them sharing a room and without conscious thought, Kyousuke fixed in his memory the smaller details of Claude getting dressed.

The absence of Claude’s ribbon bowtie and his shirt’s open collar for once left exposed the base of his neck. Unusual too was his untucked shirt draped over the top of his pants. These details, having lied dormant in the recesses of Kyousuke’s mind with no effect whatsoever for months, sprang forth to cast sparks up and down the inner walls of his mid-section.

Kyousuke scowled. He clenched his stomach just to exercise some control over his own body.

Then he heard someone opening and closing the door. Before he could get away, Kaoru had crossed the office to stand before him and the open magazine.

She asked, "Are you slacking off in here?"

"Buzz off, I've got my reasons," Kyousuke said.

Since he used the masculine pronoun, Kaoru said, "'Atashi', not 'ore'."

"Whatever, it's not like I have to change the way I speak in front of anyone here."

Ignoring Kyousuke's retort, Kaoru stared down at his reading material and said, "What got you interested in this article on Claude? It's not from a specialised Crush Gear magazine."

"Well, what got you interested in Claude?"

"Hey! Where did that come from?"

Kyousuke launched the secret weapon that he had been saving to get out of a sticky situation with Tobita Club's demon hag. It worked better than he thought, and as Kaoru started, Kyousuke rose from his seat.

"'Prince Claude'," he said. "Isn't that what you wrote on the photo of him from the World Cup? You even drew a little crown on him too!"

Smirking, he watched her furrowing her brow, perhaps in a dilemma as to whether spout excuses or deny what she did. He saw his opening to run for the door and took his first step.

"Kyousuke-san," Fuuko said. "Aren't you interested in Claude-san too?"

Her gentle, lilting voice got Kaoru to pull herself together. She stopped Kyousuke in his tracks with a narrowing of her eyes and a smirk rivaling the one that vanished from Kyousuke's face in its degree of smugness.

"Well? Explain the sudden spike in your...interest," she said. "And Fuuko, we agreed to drop honorifics among ourselves!"

"My apologies," Fuuko replied. "It takes some getting used to for me even while among friends who are the same age."

"I don’t mind if she wants to talk to me with honorifics," Kyousuke muttered.

Both girls disregarded his comment. Fuuko put aside her task on the desktop to stand by Kaoru, and they waited for Kyousuke to explain all he did in the office. Even as he shrank in the face of their inquisitive looks, his pride kept him from begging them to go easy on him. But he thought they should, since on the surface, they were the same with Kyousuke wearing some of their things.

Breaking the silence that Kyousuke drew out for all it’s worth, Fuukyo said, "My top looks good on you, Kyousuke. So does the headband! Isn’t it yours, Kaoru?"

"It is," Kaoru replied. "I lent it since I rarely wear accessories and I thought Kyousuke might like it to keep his hair out of his eyes, in place of his red bandana."

"It’s a perfect substitute! And isn’t my top’s colour the same colour as the scarf that Kyousuke likes to wear?"

"It is!"

Kaoru turned to Kyousuke and said, "I never thought you’d recreate your old look for Kyouko."

"I thought so too," Fuuko said.

"Good for the both of you to notice," Kyousuke said.

They were right on the money on what Kyousuke had tried to do through pairing Kaoru’s red headband and Fuuko’s amber blouse that had a pattern of beige strawberries. The combination replicated the colour scheme of Kyousuke’s bandana and scarf, which he thought would catch Claude’s attention from afar.

He had thought wrong, and his dabbling in fashion came to nothing.

"You're putting actual thought in your outfit and reading a magazine for girls," Kaoru said. "What's up with you, really?"

"It's...Only Gear Fighters will understand."

Kyousuke's weak attempt at weaseling out of the conversation deserved Kaoru's snort and the shake of her head.

"How about I call Jirou over here? Since he's back, he could explain what he'll understand as a Gear Fighter that we won't!"

"I'll try my best to understand. Perhaps there's a connection to one of my big brother's stories from his Gear Fighting days."

Kyousuke winced. In grilling him, the two girls had shed their roles as the club's humble managers to play bad cop and good cop.

"Fine, I'll say it," he said. "I'm afraid Claude's slipping as a Gear Fighter."

"In what way?" Kaoru asked.

"His observation skills are duller than usual," Kyousuke explained. "Perhaps he got distracted thinking about kendo, which is an issue when he's training here and not at his dojo."

Kaoru frowned. "Is that so?"

"He…didn't notice. What even the both of you noticed."

"What we noticed…"

Kaoru and Fuuko exchanged a glance, then Fuuko asked, "Do you mean about the colours that you’re wearing?"

"Yeah…"

Kyousuke scuffed his feet against the floor. He longed for the tools in his Gear Kit, as well as the machinery and equipment in his workshop. Inanimate and mute, they solved with him technical problems that were a lot easier to crack than the silly interpersonal troubles he just kept falling into, one after another.

"Move aside," he demanded. "I've said enough."

"Claude hasn't slipped as a Gear Fighter," Fuuko said. "He just hadn't noticed your clothes since he's a boy."

"She's right, if that's your only example for his skills getting worse," Kaoru said.

"You don't get it!" Kyousuke snapped.

Kaoru asked, "What don't we get?"

"Unlike most boys, Claude has an above average interest in clothes," Kyousuke replied. "He’s the only male member of our club who should have noticed."

"Hmm…"

As Fuuko glanced again at Kaoru, her lips twitched into a smile. Kaoru smiled right back. Their instant understanding ticked Kyousuke off, for on top of leaving him out of their silent exchange, it got him thinking about his similar conversations with Claude that were conducted without words. Claude was the only person he could talk to like that, as if reading each other's minds, as if all the ways they were different on the outside and inside melted away in sharing the same thoughts.

"Maybe," Fuuko said. "The change isn't obvious enough. From how you usually look as Kyouko, I mean."

"It's obvious enough for the two of you," Kyousuke argued.

"We're used to noticing what others wear," Kaoru said. "Besides, neither of us were busy doing anything that called for our full attention."

"Yes, that must be it!" Fuuko smacked her palms together. "With most of Claude's attention on his fights, there's not much left for observing small changes around him."

"He only fought the juniors today," Kyousuke pointed out. "They couldn't have taken that much out of him."

"As you said, he has his kendo!" Kaoru argued back. "I imagine it's tiring to split his training between that and Crush Gear even if we've got no upcoming tournaments lined up."

"Especially since he takes his training very seriously," Kyousuke said. "Here, and at his dojo."

"Yeah!"

The girls spoke in unison, startling Kyousuke.

"I've got an idea," Kaoru said. "To change up your look in a big way that Claude would never miss."

"That won't be necessary, I can just shave my head."

"You don't have to! What you...no, what Kyouko needs is a power-up."

"A power-up? Like some sort of upgrade?"

"Exactly. We can even get started piecing it together with this!"

Kaoru side-stepped Kyousuke to pick up the magazine he had abandoned. She flipped its pages and stopped at one that she held up for Kyousuke and Fuuko.

A row of young girls smiled up from the page. They had hair of various lengths and pictures of different cosmetic products accompanied with clusters of tiny text were printed above each girl. The thick and thin tubes, the bright circles of colour, the pencils and the brushes — all of it clashed with Kyousuke’s idea of a powerful upgrade.

Over the top of the magazine spread, Kaoru mimicked the fashion models' cheery smile. Fuuko copied her as she leaned closer to Kyousuke, appearing to take newfound delight in examining the pores of Kyousuke's cheeks. Clasping his hands over them, he looked from one girl to the other and waited with bated breath for them to initiate him into the inscrutable workings of the female mind.

**

Before the mirror of Tobita Club's female washroom, Kyousuke imagined changing his appearance even more. To look more like a girl, like Kyouko, and in essence extend the magic's effect by his own will.

The female managers had offered to upgrade his looks through dolling him up and making him over. Kyousuke should have recoiled at the idea, yet more than anything, he was curious about the results of taking up their offer. For over the course of walking around in the guise of his fictional female cousin, he discovered the appealing quality of his physical features that he had not liked before.

He started appreciating his large eyes and wide forehead, which he kept on full display as Kyouko, going about without his glasses and with a headband holding back his unruly fringe. Previously, he wrote off those features for their contrast to his other small parts that emphasized how puny he was. As long as nature denied him a massive growth spurt, he resigned himself to accepting his short stature and falling short of society’s ideal of a conventionally attractive man.

But being small was not disadvantageous for a girl. For Kyouko. When Kyousuke looked in the mirror as her, he liked what he saw. The girl in the reflection seemed one of his own creations as
she only appeared after Kyousuke put on his contact lenses and the borrowed items from the female managers. As if he not only changed the settings of his appearance, but also unlocked new possibilities for taking on the challenges that the world threw at him.

It got him thinking of Kyouko as his personal upgrade, rather than a downgrade from being Genius Gear Master Jin Kyousuke. Thinking back, the hands that fixed Shooting Phantom were Kyouko's hands guided by invisible changes within him. Changes exhibited in the blood he released and the raging of his hormones around his male teammate had perhaps also heightened his powers to deliver gifts to the game he loved and shaped his life around.

Embracing the magic's changes, further breaking down the internal barrier separating his original self and Kyouko, might elevate him to a higher level of genius within the world of Crush Gear. Closer he would get to becoming more like the Gear God who started it all.

Perhaps even becoming another legendary figure – a Gear Goddess. The title sounding straight out of myth appealed to Kyousuke as a vision for the next stage of Kyouko’s evolution.

He blinked, gripped the sink of the female washroom and stared at his reflection – at Kyouko – with greater intensity.

On his twelfth birthday, not long after the Gear God released the blueprint for the VT Chassis into the public domain, Kyousuke blew out the candle on the whole-ass chocolate cake that Kouya baked for him and wished to pull off a feat rivaling what the Gear Master of Gear Masters had done. Proof of the Gear God’s existence had renewed worldwide interest in his legend which began with him creating the world's first Gear at Kyousuke's current age. His gift to Gear Fighters had blown out of the water Kyousuke's version of the VT Chassis and taught Kyousuke the inadequacy of his skills for also revolutionising Crush Gear and creating the best and strongest Gear.

That lifelong dream of his brushed at the edges of his conscious mind once more at the Gear workshop in the Black Forest, when a vital clue of the Gear God's identity more or less fell into his lap.

The workshop's owner had told him a story of his grandson, the Gear God himself, creating Heinrich Gang's Blitz Vogel with the very same tools in Kyousuke's hands. Sitting on the same wooden bench too while breathing the clean air of the woods and talking to Heinrich seated opposite him. Taking inspiration from his grandfather's looks, Kyousuke filled in the blurry outline that the Gear God had always appeared as in his imagination, and just before he dozed off, he pictured a tall, long-haired and pale-skinned young man materialising by his side to let him know how he could perfect Shooting Phantom and fulfill his promise to Claude.

Right after, the magic's arrival in Kyousuke's dream seemed to mark the start of a new myth, perhaps one which would develop into Kyousuke walking the path that the Gear God had walked. The path towards creating great Gears while staying connected to friends, family and anyone who mattered with one foot in the intellectual realm’s uppermost rarefied layer and the other in ordinary society.

A knock on the washroom's door snipped the thread of Kyousuke's thoughts spinning out his wishful fantasy.

The door was opened a crack, then a familiar feminine voice asked, "Kyousuke-kun, are you all right in there?"

"I'm fine," Kyousuke said.

Lilika stepped in and closed the washroom door. Since she called him by his actual name, he assumed the club was empty of the members who only knew him as Kyouko.

"Who's still around?" Kyousuke asked.

"Just myself, my mother and Jirou-kun," Lilika replied. "He says he's going to walk you home."

"Yeah."

Kyousuke got his largest and strongest teammate to act as his bodyguard to secure his dad's permission for him stay until a later hour at the club. Granting Kyousuke a favour benefited Jirou also as it allowed him to see and chat with Lilika for a while longer and fan the flames of his crush on the older girl.

"My mother and I are going to have dinner and do some grocery shopping," Lilika said. "We'll be locking up soon."

"Got it," Kyousuke replied.

"Before that, I have a question for you. Are you experiencing any physical discomfort from your monthly period?"

"I've never been better. The blood has stopped flowing."

"That's great. How long has it been since the day it first started?"

Kyousuke paused to count back the days and said, "About twelve days ago. Why?"

"The first day resets the cycle," Lilika replied. "Which means the period symptoms will occur again over the following month."

"Yeah, I read about that. But if anything really gets my goat, it'll probably be the typical incompetence and idiocy of Gear Fighters instead of, I don't know, hormones."

In the main area of the club, Kyousuke rejoined Jirou and packed his belongings. Jirou had invited him to stop by his house for dinner since his parents were overseas and he was living alone again. The meal awaiting Kyousuke at home was likely just rice, his dad's low sodium and super diluted miso soup and random takeout food leftovers, which sounded a lot less appetizing than his teammate’s homecooked meal.

Okonomiyaki was on Jirou's menu for the night. Just before leaving, he offered to save some in a container for Lilika to try. Kyousuke observed them while looking out for signs of any heat between the boy and the girl.

Once outside in the cool evening, they walked side by side with Jirou humming a random, cheerful tune.

"Tell me," Kyousuke said. "Around our coach, do you turn into a human raging bullet?"

Jirou whipped his head towards him, asking, "A what?"

"Do you get hot wanting to pierce her –"

"Stop!" Jirou glared at Kyousuke and said, "Talk about Lilika like that any more and I won't feed you any dinner."

"Are you going to have me over as a guest just to starve me?"

"I should do the opposite," Jirou grumbled. "I should not let you go home until you eat as much as I do."

Kyousuke winced and laid a hand on his little stomach. "Don't be mean, I'm wearing a bra. Just like Lilika."

Jirou pursed his lips and shook his head. Kyousuke smiled, all innocence, perfectly aware that Jirou knew how barbaric it looked to take it out on him just for stating facts.

"By the way," Jirou said. "You've been quoting the advice of your Gear Master cousin way too much. Soon, our juniors will think he's actually your long lost twin."

"So what?" Kyousuke shrugged. "The Shinomiya twins couldn't be the world's only pair of telepathic relatives. Manganji's former sidekicks know the phenomenon well and besides, those follower types will swallow anything passed down from their leaders."

"Follower types…yeah, I see what you mean," Jirou mused. "They seem unused to participating in a club without a strict hierarchy and one player that everyone looks up to. Obviously, Kouya's our star, but they know him for longer than us and he's…Kouya."

"Yeah, idiot Kouya," Kyousuke said with a little smile, repeating Kaoru's favourite nickname for their teammate. "I can train with Gomano and Momita, but I don't know if it's possible to sincerely see them as my teammates. They did only rejoin our team after Manganji told them to."

"They're sincere about supporting us, if not they wouldn’t have begged Manganji to give a time extension for his match with Claude. You saw it, right?"

"I did."

"I wished I could have seen it instead of just hearing about it from Lilika-san. I think from then on, Manganji knew their hearts belonged with us. With Tobita Club, where they first grew as Gear Fighters."

"Maybe."

"Well, it's still early days for them and it's not as if they're back in the version of our club that they had known. We're all part of the Newer New Tobita Club, as Kouya would call it."

As Jirou laughed at his own joke, Kyousuke let out a matching chortle.

"One of them might be auditioning to become your lackey," Kyousuke said. "Going so far as to separate himself from the other one."

"You mean Momita?" Jirou replied. "He's just mingling with the other members and making new friends. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Maybe he has a crush on you."

"Like Gomano's crush on you?"

Kyousuke groaned. "On Kyouko, not on me."

With a light bump against Kyousuke's side, Jirou said, "Don't sell yourself short! I get the impression he really likes you, the way you like Lan Fang."

Hearing the name of the kindest, strongest and most beautiful girl in Kyousuke's world melted his heart. It hardened right back up as the image of her beauty was replaced with one of Gomano blushing and trailing after him.

"I really hope he's just girl crazy and will chase any target in his immediate range," Kyousuke said. "You'll see when Kyousuke's back and Kyouko's gone."

"Oh no, I bet his attachment to Kyouko won't let him switch to chasing any other girl that quick."

Putting aside the trouble with Gomano, Kyousuke perceived a hidden meaning tucked within Jirou's assessment. Without saying it outright, he seemed to see Kyousuke's female counterpart as someone with enough appeal not just attract a boy, but also get him emotionally attached. Inspiration struck, and Kyousuke got an idea to test Kyouko's power.

He hugged with both arms Jirou's beefy arm to his chest. Jirou peered down at him, then looked around them.

"Is there anything suspicious or scary up ahead?" Jirou asked.

"No, I just wanted to know…"

"Know what?"

"Are you warm at all? Any sensation in your chest or stomach?"

"What's up with the weird questions? The temperature's dropping and the only sensation in my stomach is its rumbling from hunger."

"Not even with a cute girl holding you?"

Obviously thinking that Kyousuke was only teasing him again, Jirou scowled, shook his head and shrugged Kyousuke off.

"I should have known," Kyousuke said, swinging his arms by his sides. "It's not like I have long hair and even longer legs."

"Kyouko might, if you go on living as her. But before that happens, Claude would have settled his rematch with Manganji and get the win for undoing the magic. I'm sure of it!"

Kyousuke had not entertained the possibility of his current body growing with the passing of time. Months, then years just going by with him staying as Kyouko until the prolonged absence of Kyousuke necessitated letting his original identity disappear forever. He could return to wearing his glasses and his old clothes around others, but he’d still have lost a vital chunk of his essence.

He concentrated on the solid ground under his feet to get his head above the murky thoughts of his worst case scenario. In the middle of stepping onto a road they were about to cross, Jirou grabbed his elbow and kept him out of the way of an approaching car.

**

"It's like boiling a frog."

At one end of Tobita Club's ring, Claude sealed off Kyousuke's muttering from his keen ears. The fight between him and a rookie junior went on with Shooting Phantom sliding sideways and knocking its rear weapon into the Gear of Claude's opponent. The attack raised the front half of the Gear and exposed its underside to Shooting Phantom's drill. Just as it appeared doomed to get flipped over, another side hit from Shooting Phantom sent it flying. As it landed on its side, its one front wheel and one rear wheel skidded across the ring's metal surface.

Under his head of spiky hair, the Gear's owner turned paler and queasier. His fight should have ended before the ring's timer flashed red towards the end of a round, if not for the mercy that Claude dispensed at multiple counts. Toughening his opponent up in the guise of sparing him, and allowing him to learn the limits of his Gear and his fighting spirit was Claude’s hidden, unspoken agenda all along. Kyousuke understood the meaning behind Claude's silence since the fight's start — the fight that prodded their junior to sort out his strategy on his own for getting a handle on his emotions and seeking openings in a one-sided match.

Once the timer's countdown went off, Yukihiko, carrying out the role of the fight's referee, announced the end of the round.

In the break before the next round, Claude stayed put, and so did his opponent. The boy froze, not even picking up his Gear. Kyousuke strode to his end of the ring and calculated what it'd take to lighten the load of the boy's misery. Not out of some stake in acting as a good senior, but to salvage the fight for the Shooting Phantom he created.

"Oy! Get your Gear over here!"

The boy with spiky hair turned, seeming more bewildered than offended on getting shouted at by someone who appeared as a tiny girl to him. Pulling himself together, he followed Kyousuke's command and exited the ring with his Gear.

"Are you going to continue the fight with your Gear like that?" Kyousuke asked.

"Um...no," the boy said and flipped his Gear over. "Got to readjust the wheels on its right."

It was the side on which the Gear absorbed the entire force of its landing at the first round's conclusion.

"What else?" Kyousuke prompted.

"My attacks..." The boy held his Gear tighter and stood a little straighter. "They lack power and accuracy."

"What do you think is the problem?"

"My weapons. I should get new ones and ask for a rematch."

Kyousuke expelled a puff of hot air out of the corner of his mouth and asked, "Is that your only solution?"

"I guess I can change its settings, but I'm not sure..."

"Do it first! See if the new setting is better and if it's not, try again. Must I spell out how to follow your common sense?"

"...No?"

"Then get to it!"

Rather than delay the start of the fight’s second round any further, Kyousuke wrapped up their conversation as he stalked across the room. In place of a pep talk, his series of pointed questions nudged his junior towards organising his own thoughts. He saved dropping explicit hints and suggesting alternative solutions for another fight not meant to build up a rookie fighter’s independence.

For perceiving the larger strategy guiding the ongoing fight, Claude threw a brief flicker of a smile in Kyousuke’s way. It impressed on Kyousuke like a feather’s soft landing on a still pond. Longing rippled through him to take Shooting Phantom in his hands and have it produce the best sound for Claude’s ears, but that was impossible for Claude had gone back into the ring and set up his release.

Kyousuke’s longing stayed with him all the way past the entrance of the club’s office. Without conscious thought, he brought himself to the room where he stopped at more often as Kyouko.

Kaoru greeted him and gestured at the unfamiliar items lying on the table. Next to a stack of fashion magazines was a peach-coloured pouch and a case in the same shade which shared the design and size of a bento box holder. Brushes of various sizes with gleaming black handles were strapped to the case’s opened top and its bottom half held a collection of small bottles.

"Are those makeup brushes?" Kyousuke asked, recollecting similar implements that he had seen when crossing the women section of a department store.

"Yup!" Kaoru unzipped the pouch, revealing the compact boxes and yet more bottles crammed in its compartments. "It’s all for Kyouko’s makeover. To upgrade her look, I mean! I brought everything I own and more from my mom’s collection."

Kyousuke stared at the makeup brushes, imagined the bundles of fine strands whisked over his face and scrunched his nose. Out of the pouch, Kaoru drew what Kyousuke mistook as a pair of metal scissors from its handle. Its end was shaped like a cross between a scoop and a clamp that Kaoru pulled open and shut as she raised it to the light, seeming animated with inspiration.

"Forget it," Kyousuke said.

"Huh, what?" Kaoru swept her eyes over her stash of cosmetics and said, "Come on, not after I've brought everything here."

"Just have your fun with Fuuko. I don't trust you to not turn me into a clown."

Makeup belonged to a girl's domain, but was perhaps not the specialty of Kaoru who never seemed to wear any. As ever, not the slighest dab of colour adorned her features, a far cry from a girl like Lan Fang obviously versed in handling feminine tools to accentuate her delicate beauty.

"I could turn you prettier than Lan Fang," Kaoru said.

"Impossible!"

Kyousuke furrowed his brow, as if tightening his defenses for shielding the contents of his mind from being read. Even as it was nothing but a coincidence for Kaoru to bring up Lan Fang after he thought of her.

"Yeah, her natural beauty's up there," Kaoru said. "Yours isn't bad, but is of a different kind. Like mine."

"Are you fishing for compliments?"

"Save them for after your power up is complete!"

For emphasis, Kaoru pointed her metal tool at Kyousuke. He pushed it aside with one hand.

"It's your skill that's the issue," he said. "Or rather, whether you have any."

"My skill?"

"Yeah. It'd be a different story if you exercised it to get Kouya liking –"

The door burst open, introducing the chatter among the club members, the metallic clashes of Gears and the flurry of footsteps into the office. Kouya appeared as if summoned by Kyousuke saying his name. The noises from the ongoing training session muffled his greeting for everyone as he held Garuda Phoenix out to Kyousuke.

"Hey, Kyousu...Kyouko!" He corrected himself, conscious of his voice travelling to other areas of the club as the door swung shut by itself. "Could you fix my Gear's settings for a fight against Claude?"

"Hold it right there!" Kaoru said, getting between Kaoru and Kyousuke. "Do you have any idea how late you are?"

"What's wrong with sleeping in a bit? Claude's around to take charge of training, Kyousuke's here too and we're still on holiday!" Kouya argued.

"Don't forget the many number of juniors who want to model themselves after you. What if they see the World Champion getting away with being late and think they can do the same? What will you do, just let the other seniors pick up your slack?"

Kaoru snapped her metal tool open and shut, creating a menacing sound effect of rapid clicks. It drew some of Kouya's attention away from the force behind her words as he stared at the unfamiliar object in her hand.

"What's that? And those are..."

He looked past Kaoru and Kyousuke at the bottles and small boxes spilling out of the peach-coloured case and pouch.

"Makeup," Kyousuke clarified.

"Makeup?" Kouya repeated. "How come we have makeup here?"

Kouya's timely appearance ushered a stroke of ingenuity for Kyousuke to link the makeup with Kaoru's mission to fix Kouya's lack of discipline. Lurking in the background was the influence of Kyousuke's own agenda.

"For being late," Kyousuke said. "Kaoru's going to put makeup on you."

"Ehh?"

Kouya shot at Kaoru a questioning look which Kaoru copied and directed towards Kyousuke.

Smiling, Kyousuke said to Kaoru, "Wouldn't you like a model to show off your makeup skills?"

"Yes!" Kaoru returned his smile as she got the purpose behind his penalty for Kouya. "Yes, I'd like that!"

Going behind Kouya, she guided him by the shoulders to seat him on the chair behind the table with all her makeup.

"Don't move," Kaoru said, poking the scoop-like end of her metal tool into his cheek. "I'm going to get started."

"Do I really have to be your guinea pig?" Kouya complained. "And you haven't explained what that is!"

"It's an eyelash curler."

Kaoru put it into her pouch and took a cotton pad from a small zip-lock bag. As she unscrewed an indigo bottle and poured some of its clear liquid onto the cotton pad, Kouya grumbled under his breath.

"Kyousuke," he said. "Have you gone over to the girls' side? How could you let her torture me just for sleeping in?"

"You should try the kind of torture that has blood flowing out of you non-stop," Kyousuke retorted, thinking of the torture that his changed organs had inflicted on him.

"Think of it not as torture, but as training," Kaoru said.

"Training for what?" Kouya asked.

"For looking your best during a fight."

After Kaoru swiped the wet cotton pad across his cheek, she asked, "Isn't that nice?"

"Yeah, kind of..."

"I'll give you a natural look, which actually takes a lot more skill than laying it on thick."

"While she does that," Kyousuke said, "I'll fix Garuda Phoenix's settings."

He approached Kouya and took up Kouya's Gear, saying, "We'll see later if your face could become even half as pretty as the Gear I created, once Kaoru's done with it."

"Who cares about being pretty —"

With a press of Kaoru's index finger on Kouya's nose, she truncated the rest of his retort. She left a dot of white cream there, then laid more little white dots on his forehead and cheekbones. Kyousuke turned away and brought Garuda Phoenix to another table with some empty space.

He turned his back to Kouya and Kaoru and optimised Garuda Phoenix’s settings for its next fight. While waiting for Kaoru to do her best, or worst, he traced lingering strokes over the various custom-made components of his creation and imagined it taking flight into the ring after a magnificent release — the release preceding Kouya’s execution of Shining Sword Breaker which Kyousuke had practically cracked his head open to figure out. Way before the pairing of the powerful release with the Gear capable of withstanding it, before the Gear itself got its name and colours, bringing about Garuda Phoenix’s birth and growth had fallen on Kyousuke’s shoulder. In his heart of hearts, he saw it as a privilege rather than a task, much like refining his Dino Phalanx, like fighting and training together with his teammates.

Since the start of Kouya's penalty, the indistinct chattering between him and Kaoru petered out into silence sprinkled with the faint sounds of bottles and boxes being taken up and set down. Then Kouya's gasp filled the office and tugged at the rein of Kyousuke's curiosity. He turned around, taking in Kouya swiveling his head from side to side before the round turquoise handheld mirror that Kaoru held up for him.

"My face," Kouya said. "It's changed!"

"In a good way, right?" Kaoru said.

"Yeah, actually."

Kyousuke went up to them for a closer study of Kaoru's handiwork. The skin of Kouya's face looked cleaner and smoother, and his features more defined. His brown eyes appeared rounder and his nose a little sharper. He appeared fresher and more alert than when he just stepped into the office, yet did not look like he was wearing much or even any makeup.

To Kyousuke, Kaoru said, "See? I know what I'm doing."

"Did you use anything on him or did you just clean his face?" Kyousuke asked.

"I cleaned it and evened out his skin tone, among other steps," Kaoru replied. "I even used a bit of eyeliner."

"She did," Kouya said. "She even drew squiggly lines close to my eye with it."

"Not on purpose," Kaoru said, resting her hand on Kouya's shoulder. "You twitched your eyes so much."

"I can't help it when there's a whole-ass pencil that close to my eyeball!"

"Seriously, I'm impressed at myself for still being able to draw right on the edges of your eyelids. Drawing any higher and with thicker strokes would get you looking like..."

"...the dude who hosted the Illusion Cup."

"Yeah, him! Especially if I put on you some thick bright eyeshadow and an entire tube’s worth of concealer!"

Kyousuke pictured the host-slash-referee of the tournament held in an actual circus tent. There, the greatest clown had not been the man in garish face paint and gaudy clothes, but Kyousuke himself for starting a fight with his teammates. Layer upon layer of suffering had broken him down, beginning with the insinuation in Claude’s cryptic words for him of everyone getting tired of his shit that Kyousuke also thought to have detected in a conversation which he overheard about disposing what’s replaceable and useless in the club. The big, stupid misunderstanding got him to deal a one-two punch to himself through his pointless loss to a Team Griffon member and then following it up as he provoked Jirou into hitting him for his temporary defection to Manganji’s team.

His mental and physical pain faded with the creation of far pleasanter memories. New ones pieced themselves together as long as Kyousuke was near those he cared about, lowering his interest in living a loner’s lifestyle when he didn’t have to.

For one, if he had stayed a loner, he wouldn’t have witnessed the hundred and eighty degrees flip of his male teammate’s attitude towards getting makeup put on him. After Kouya took the handheld mirror from Kaoru and preened some more before it, Kyousuke thought he saw enough of Kouya’s vanity. He stood behind Kouya and raised Garuda Phoenix to have it become a piece of its Gear Fighter’s reflection.

"Finally, you have the looks to match your Gear," Kyousuke said.

"Heh…" Kouya stopped fawning over his own face to look to his side at Garuda Phoenix, then at Kyousuke. "Are you saying I'm good-looking, indirectly?"

"That's all in your head. Anyway, your actuator was misaligned. Watch out for that or it’ll compromise the accuracy of your front and rear weapons’ attacks."

Head held high, Kouya thanked Kaoru and Kyousuke before stepping out the door and starting his training for real. The juniors would do themselves a world of good in challenging him with his Gear having taken on Kyousuke's settings. Compared to it, the replica Dino Spartan that Kyousuke only fought with as Kyouko was a lot more limited in its capacity for whipping into shape Gear Fighters who were still wet behind the ears. He thought about leaving the club for his workshop, where he had the full range of tools to modify and enhance the Gear for his alter ego.

"Kyousuke, get over here," Kaoru said, holding the backrest of the chair that Kouya just vacated and turning it from side to side.

"I'm heading off," Kyousuke said.

"I can't let you go looking like that."

"What? Like what?"

Kyousuke almost had his hand on the door's handle when Kaoru's critique got him whirling back around. As he rushed to pick up the handheld mirror and study what could be wrong with his face, Kaoru bumped the cushioned seat of the chair against the back of his knees. He sank down on the seat, frowning at his reflection.

"You've tricked me," he accused. "Nothing's the matter."

"There is," Kaoru replied. "See your eyebags?"

Frowning some more, Kyousuke put the mirror closer to better examine the dark circles under his eyes. They appeared as they always did after a mostly wakeful night which he passed in his bedroom alternating between modifying Dino Phalanx and sketching diagrams and running calculations on a notepad. Even with the ban on staying late in his workshop, his late owl habits kept sleep at bay and he had lots of excess energy to expend.

"It's no big deal," Kyousuke said. "They're like a permanent part of my face."

"That's not good. I'll cover them up so you'd look less gloomy."

"Fine, do what you like."

Rejecting the favour that Kaoru offered would just incur more of her troublesome nagging. After putting down the mirror, Kyousuke rested his elbow on the table to prop up his chin as he watched Kaoru root through the contents of her makeup pouch.

"Did you like putting makeup on Kouya?" He asked. "Showing off doing what most others in the club can’t do?"

"I like it," Kaoru said. "I also get to act like his big sister or his mom."

Kyousuke snorted. "His mom?"

"Yeah, I did what his actual mom wanted to do, if Kouya had been born a girl. She told me so while giving me feedback on different looks and makeup techniques that I tried out."

As Kaoru talked, she repeated the steps she performed earlier on Kouya, wetting a cotton pad and wiping it over Kyousuke's face. Then she twisted open a beige tube and drew out the tapered applicator. The clump of bristles on the applicator's end soon met the top of Kyousuke's cheeks when Kaoru brushed two swipes of creamy liquid to cover the darkened and puffy skin. She took a sponge in the shape of a tear drop for dabbing at the liquid, spreading it out evenly.

Kyousuke’s pores tingled under the layer of what Kaoru called ‘concealer’. It was strange at first, then pleasant once the liquid began to dry and cool his skin. But he did not like as much his prolonged physical proximity to Kaoru. After insisting on finishing the job himself, Kaoru passed him the sponge.

While he looked at the mirror and dabbed his own face, she said, as if speaking to herself, "If Kouya were a girl, our lives would be more boring."

"While Kouya's life might be easier," Kyousuke commented.

"Maybe not. Our fights would last longer if we were both girls, and he'd get into worse trouble without me. Making up after we fight is a lot simpler with him being a boy who doesn't mind treating me like one."

"You want him to hit you and hit him right back?"

"No, there's no need to go that far. We just have to lay it all out in the open and dare to hurt each other for the sake of getting better together. That's how boys fight, unlike girls."

Kaoru's description matched how Kyousuke's long fight with Claude had played itself out. Daring to both hurt Claude and getting hurt in return simplified his approach to being around him again. All their confrontations had not been part of Kyousuke's hardship since their reunion, for whatever Claude did or said then crystalised the simple truth that Kyousuke still mattered to him.

That the flaws of Kyousuke's character were not bad enough to actually drive him away for good.

Kyousuke paused the dabbing of his skin and looked into the eyes of his reflection. He imagined turning down the trade he had undergone in his dream, exchanging the ability to fix Shooting Phantom for becoming Kyouko. Even if he did, suffering seemed inevitable with him knowing he had not done all he could for Claude to win true and complete fulfillment through Crush Gear, through their partnership.

"Fighting is fine, and even good, as long as everyone makes up in the end," Kaoru said, continuing to vocalize her thoughts. "If I hadn't fought with Kouya during the Illusion Cup, I wouldn't have had the Pink Lips do my makeup and unleash my bad girl side."

Kyousuke lowered the sponge in his hand, turned to Kaoru and asked, "The Pink Lips?"

"The team of older girls we had a match with last year."

"I definitely sat out that one."

"Oh, right."

Kaoru went silent, seeming to review the highlights of the match, then smiled and said, "You know, one of the girls was interested in Claude. You should have seen her hitting on him at the start of their fight – I bet nothing like that ever happened during the matches with your old team!"

"As if I care!"

"She was pretty hot and wearing a low cut top…"

Tuning her out, Kyousuke turned away and faced his reflection once more. He doubted that Claude had weakened before an attractive female face like Kyousuke himself and Jirou in front of Lan Fang and Lilika. Shy giggles and blushes were incompatible with Claude's serious, composed and formal front, which seldom cracked outside of exceptional cases when it eroded into a landslide of emotions.

To Kyousuke's horror, imagining Claude consumed by his emotions turned Kyousuke’s own cheeks red. Their colour looked all the more obvious with the dark circles above them covered up.

He plunked down Kaoru's mirror and sponge, saying, "I'm going to wash my face. Your makeup is giving me an allergic reaction."

"Oh no!"

Kaoru approached him, examined his face and said, "What are you talking about? You look great! Much better than before!"

"No freaking way," Kyousuke snapped.

He raised the back of his hand to give his cheek a thorough wipe. Just when Kaoru grabbed his arm, the door swinging open alerted them to Kouya popping back into the office. As Kaoru trained her attention on him, Kyousuke shrugged her off.

"Claude thinks I look like a celebrity!" Kouya said.

He crossed the room with a hop and a twirl in the air. He landed before Kaoru, then seized her by her shoulders.

"Will you do my makeup every day?" He asked. "I'll start arriving early for training!"

"Wait," Kaoru said. "What just happened?"

"You should have heard what Claude said," Kouya replied, looking over his shoulder and smiling as if Claude had followed him inside. "After our match, he asked if I did anything to my face. When I told him of my penalty, he said I'm being treated like someone famous who has to look their best on and off the clock."

"That isn't the same as saying you look like a celebrity," Kyousuke said.

Turning to him and letting go of Kaoru, Kouya said, "I'm not done yet!"

Pumped full of energy, he leapt back, put one hand on his hip and a finger gun under his chin. "You see this face? Claude wants a picture of it to put in a frame!"

"He cannot have said that," Kaoru said.

"Perhaps only in some demented hallucination," Kyousuke said. "Did you hit your head out there?"

"You really should hear the rest of my story! I asked Claude, 'Do you think I look like a celebrity? Like I have a face that a magazine will put on its cover to sell a million copies?' Then Claude said, 'Yes, and I'll even ask for a copy of the original photo to frame up and place on my bookshelf at home.' Can you imagine that!"

Kaoru sighed. "He still did not say what you thought he said."

"Hey, a compliment’s a compliment! Right, Kyousuke?"

Kouya looked Kyousuke’s way, noticed the change in his face and advanced for a closer inspection.

"Your cheeks are really red," Kouya observed. "Is there anything on them?"

"There’s nothing," Kyousuke lied. "I’m going home."

"Aww, Kyousuke!"

Kouya’s little whine was accompanied with his sideways hug meant to hold Kyousuke back. As Kyousuke squirmed, Kouya poked his index finger against Kyousuke’s cheek. It left a hint of beige on Kouya’s fingertip which he took in before turning back to the spot on Kyousuke’s face where he had landed his finger.

"The red’s not coming off," Kouya said.

"That’s not makeup," Kaoru said. "That’s just him."

"Shut up!"

The real anger in Kyousuke’s voice tore apart the mood to joke around. Kouya released him, and neither he nor Kaoru moved a muscle as Kyousuke marched out the door. He made a beeline for the club’s entrance, bumping into Gomano and a couple of juniors, ignoring the call of Kyouko’s name and a couple of disgruntled cries. A quick scan about the room told him that Claude had gone, and he left too without a backward glance.

**

Wearing makeup, on top of putting on contact lenses and feminine clothes, further reshaped Kyousuke's mindset towards the possibilities available to him as Kyouko. On his walk to a Crush Gear store, he began noticing the window displays of other shops which he had all along blocked out of his field of vision. Bags, shoes and pieces of fashionable items adorning faceless mannequins — these means of changing a well-worn image thrust themselves at him, also promising a change in the audience bearing witness to their effect.

A pair of ankle boots brought Kyousuke to a standstill before its shopfront. The boots were black and shiny with three gleaming silver buckles on dark green straps and thick elevated soles to boost a short person's height. They looked fit for a tough character and seemed fun to clomp around in, and slipping on these shoes obviously meant for girls would not turn Kyouko into an instant laughing stock.

Kyousuke took one last look at them before going on his way to his original destination. Later, he got the boots and lugged them to Tobita Club, where he dumped them on a table in the club's office for Fuuko and Kaoru to take in.

"I'll agree to a makeover," he said. "My one condition is that Kyouko's new upgraded look must include these boots."

Stunned at first, the two managers then regarded Kyousuke’s new boots with awe and clapped their hands.

Kaoru's makeup, which she had yet to transport home, were taken out of an empty cabinet drawer and into the hands of Kaoru and Fuuko after they consulted beauty tutorials in fashion magazines and studied Kyousuke's face from all angles. When Kyousuke closed his eyes, he could better tolerate having liquid or powder brushed onto the skin of his face. As he covered his view of the club's office in a veil of darkness, he willed the parts of himself vaguely labeled as 'Kyouko' to come to the surface.

Into putting together Kyouko's new look, the girls poured all their leftover energy from completing their managerial tasks. A crushing disappointment for Kouya, who still wanted his makeup done for him before guiding the juniors' training while looking 'famous'. He just watched while Kyousuke sat through having different styles of eye makeup tried on his eyelids. When Kouya got bored of that, he fiddled with the various makeup tools and products, prompting Kaoru to dare him to try making himself up.

"Celebrities don't do their own makeup."

Kouya said so after chickening out of his attempt at curling his eyelashes. The lash curler's scooped end was a hair breadth away from his one closed eye when he flinched and lowered the tool. Kyousuke put his palm out for it and curled the lashes of one eye followed by those attached to his other eye. It took no effort since inserting his contact lenses got him used to putting things near his eyes.

"Easy peasy," he said, pointing the lash curler at Kouya and snapping its clamp open, then closed it again.

"Heh, if Kyousuke can do it, so can I!"

Again, Kouya took up the lash curler. His second attempt seemed a repeat of his first one as he stopped the tool's advance close to its destination and began retracting his hand. But before he caved in for good, Kaoru grabbed him from behind and insisted on freeing him only when his lashes were curled.

Paint, draw, evaluate and clean – these were the steps done to Kyousuke’s face, the last one for erasing all traces of makeup when he wanted to step back into the main area of the club. His face was like a magic board that little kids scribbled on or a sand mandala put together only for monks to destroy and embrace the impermanence of everything, as Kyousuke had seen on the ramen restaurant's television while eating dinner with his dad. After the girls were done with him for the day, Kaoru and Fuuko gathered and opened bottles of nail polish to have their own fun in painting each other's nails. Kyousuke stayed just to check his email on the computer, sitting apart from the managers and reading Alex's reply to his question about whether a certain manufacturer's motor was suitable for Shooting Phantom.

Of course, he had not neglected gearing Shooting Phantom up for its second showdown against Manganji's Gaiki. In the midst of digesting the Canadian Gear Master's analysis, he heard a groan that disrupted the flow of his thoughts.

Kouya had reappeared, taking the office as his break room. Unlike earlier, he froze at the threshold of the half-opened door and covered his nose behind the sleeve of his jacket.

"Ugh, what's that awful smell?" He asked.

"Close the door if you dislike the smell of nail polish," Kaoru replied without looking up from drawing an applicator down Fuuko's nail to brush on a coat of violet nail polish.

"Kyousuke, you can actually breathe in here?"

"Smells just like plastic cement to me," Kyousuke said, for the office did smell like his workshop when he glued plastic parts together.

After letting out another groan, Kouya retreated and shut the door, sealing in the fumes from the drying nail polish.

At the end of the training session, the office's door was left open to air the room. No other Gear Fighters were around save for Kouya and Kyousuke. Up and down Tobita Club, Kyousuke practised walking in his boots, taking wobbly steps and almost falling over if not for Kouya catching and supporting him with his arms. He appeared less pathethic with his new shoes turning him taller than the younger boy.

Once his knees were steady, he nudged Kouya aside and straightened his legs.

Kouya let go of his hand and stepped back, asking, "Are the shoes and makeup linked in any way?"

"Who knows," Kyousuke said, landing one foot forward.

"I guess they are," Kouya said.

Kyousuke let him think what he liked. The boots were heavier than his regular shoes and walking in them tired him out. He managed to get from one end of the club to the other in a normal manner and as he turned to do it again in the opposite direction, his legs trembled and he started falling sideways.

Kouya rushed to prop him up, saving Kyousuke from hitting the floor. As Kyousuke's panic faded, he sensed Kouya's arm encircling his waist.

"Hey," Kyousuke said. "Your arm."

"Yeah?" Kouya replied.

"Are you treating me like a damsel in distress?"

"No, you're Kyousuke in distress!"

By a fraction, Kouya tightened his arm around Kyousuke's waist. Warmth seeped from the centre of Kyousuke's spine, under the weight of Kouya's hand, and he took advantage of the boost in his height to peer down at Kouya. Closer and closer, he narrowed the distance between their faces. His heartrate sped up as his panic seemed to return but he did his best to feign the absence of any abnormality within him, for he wanted to see his effect on Kouya with his current manner and guise.

Kouya blinked and broke their eye contact as he looked towards the window. Outside, the sun was setting and its amber rays overlayed the flush that crept onto his cheeks.

Kyousuke held the sides of Kouya's cheeks and turned Kouya’s head to have them face each other again.

"Did you put on some of Kaoru's blusher?" Kyousuke asked.

"No," Kouya said. "I don't even know what that is!"

"Right...you are a typical boy."

"Kyousuke, don't go to the other side!"

Kouya had not taken his hand off Kyousuke's waist and even curled his other arm around Kyousuke's midsection, pulling him closer. Kyousuke fought his instinct to struggle free in favour of extending his investigation. His next step was to discover if he could affect Kouya some more.

For a better hold on his teammate, he slid his hands from Kouya's face down to the sides of Kouya's neck.

"Tell me," Kyousuke said. "Are you getting warm on the inside?"

"A little, I guess," Kouya said without dropping his arms from Kyousuke's waist. "What's with the weird question?"

Kyousuke drew in a long breath, then brought their faces even closer, until the tips of their noses met.

"Any warmer?"

"You're just being weird!"

Their extreme closeness pushed Kouya into releasing Kyousuke. To let him regain his personal space, Kyousuke backed away. The beat of his heart had reverted to its regular rhythm, while Kouya, usually the more touchy feely one, appeared flustered as he drew rapid strokes of his hand down the front of his chest.

"Thank you, Kouya," Kyousuke said. "You've allowed me to get a better idea of Kyouko's power."

"Kyouko's power? You mean your power when you're Kyouko?"

"Yeah."

Taking Kouya as an example, Kyousuke learnt how to keep himself from reacting the way Kouya did when he was around Claude. The solution to weakening Claude's effect on him was to affect Claude more, and have Claude for once take his turn between them both to become a melting mess on the inside.

"What kind of power?" Kouya asked.

"The power to affect..." Kyousuke hesitated over the best way to dress up the truth. "...certain kind of boys."

"What kind of boys?"

"Idiotic boys."

"Ugh, you sound like Kaoru! And in that getup, you look like her too!"

Kouya threw himself on Kyousuke with an exaggerated sob, saying, "Come back, Kyousuke!"

"Get off me!"

"Ehh...you didn’t mind being this close a second ago!"

In trying to escape, Kyousuke tripped over his own foot and took Kouya down with him. Their collision sent the managers running out of the club's office and as they stood above Kyousuke and Kouya, Kyousuke tried to look less like a fool even with the blooming ache in his forehead, palms and knees.

**

With Kouya having cushioned his fall, no bruises coloured the lower halves of Kyousuke's legs under the hemline of the dark orange skirt that he had put on. It had pleats like a curtain and ended above Kyousuke's knees, and was part of Kyouko's upgraded look. The female managers had suggested assembling a getup with Dino Phalanx's colour scheme, and Kyousuke liked the proposal enough to actually wear a skirt. The blouse to match it was pale yellow with cloth buttons and a rounded collar. Topping it all off was a dark green jacket of the same shade as the buckle straps of Kyousuke's ankle boots.

On a day when Kyousuke was going to meet Claude for a diagnosis of Shooting Phantom's performance, the girls first arranged to get him a haircut at a salon. The hairdresser was the older sister of a friend of Shingo, Fuuko's older brother and former Tobita Club member. It was a Saturday and while Claude attended a morning kendo class, Kyousuke finished his transformation into the new and improved version of his feminine alter ego.

From head to toe, he was changed. Once the hairdresser finished her job, Kaoru stepped forward to do his makeup, having brought a pouch containing the essential brushes, tubes and other tools. Beside Kyousuke's chair, Fuuko waited on standby to pass Kaoru what she needed.

While Kaoru painted concealer on his cheeks, Kyousuke closed his eyes and only reopened them when Kaoru announced that she was done. Sitting before the mirror, he picked out the details which Claude must notice – the dark outline around his eyes and the subtle shading of their lids that got them to pop, the slight sheen on his lips and the faint tinge of pink across his cheeks. He looked passably pretty and appeared his age, like someone about to start junior high instead of elementary school, especially when he stood in his boots.

Their soft thud as he got to his feet blended with the applause from his companions that broke out behind him.

Shingo, who had joined them out of curiosity, raised a digital camera and took a picture of Kyousuke.

"Hopefully you'd have changed back when the photo's developed," Shingo said.

"Yes, hopefully," Kyousuke said.

Fuuko told Shingo that the motivation behind Kyousuke's makeover was just him having the kind of fun that was off limits for him as a boy. Shingo seemed to have bought it, but Kyousuke still dreaded being asked by the older boy about his supposed girly interests. To soothe his nerves, he reached into the pocket of his jacket for his Gear and bumped his fingers against the second item that he had kept in there.

He pulled out a hair clip with a small white rose and said to Shingo, "I forgot to put this on. Would you mind taking another photo?"

"Certainly!"

After Kyousuke clipped the white rose to the side of his head, Shingo snapped another shot. Then he let his sister and his Tobita Club juniors see on his camera’s monitor both pictures that he had taken.

"Imagine if Alex had been changed during our World Cup," he said. "It'd be a riot! He'd definitely try to kiss every member of our team, starting from Lilika."

"Onii-chan, would you go for it?" Fuuko asked. "If Alex-san were a girl?"

"I've never really thought about it…"

While the pair of siblings talked between themselves, Kaoru approached Kyousuke and asked, "Is that Lan Fang's hair clip?"

"Yeah," Kyousuke replied.

At his final parting with Lan Fang on the platform of the train station in Germany, they had exchanged gifts. A white rose for a stalk of Chinese Aster that Kyousuke created to replace the chipped flower which had fallen from Lan Fang's hair accessory. It seemed like ages ago when she had left it behind for Kyousuke to find before she departed Singapore, where they first met, and tell him through the language of flowers: 'Goodbye, and believe in yourself.'

The little piece of herself had supported Kyousuke from then onwards, and he wanted to return the favour. Even if saying farewell was tough, he had no excuse to not deliver his present in person. No forest, no traffic accident, no steep mountain, no injured teammate got in the way of him putting in Lan Fang's hands the wooden box for his creation.

He hoped it would let her see herself as he saw her. As a whole person — beautiful, wise, strong and treasured by those around her — unbroken by the suffering that she had undergone. He exercised skills outside of his expertise in Crush Gear that he picked up in the remote past when his mom still lived with him and his dad, when he learnt the tools and techniques to shape metal and create a brooch for a Mother's Day gift.

"Thank you, Kyousuke-san," Lan Fang said, clutching to her chest Kyousuke's flower and reflecting in her eyes the affection that he had poured into his gift. "I'm really grateful that you're here, despite everything that happened."

She knew the story of what the Forest Magic did to him.

"That's less important than seeing you again," Kyousuke said.

"You've proven the existence of magic," Lan Fang replied. "Perhaps it exists in other parts of the world, not just in Germany, and will reunite us some day. It could even let me meet Wang Hu's tiger mother and our team's namesake."

Even as she chuckled at her own joke, she teared up, betraying the immense depth of her sorrow. Soon, she would not only have to part with the Tobita Club members, but also with Wang Hu, the younger boy who she had watched over as an older sister and protector.

He was irreplaceable to her. Yet she believed he was better off living in Japan with Kouya as two kindred spirits having fun Gear Fights every day.

The glimmer of Lan Fang's tears got Kyousuke's eyes to well up too.

Acting stronger than he was, he quelled his urge to cry and said, "Just don't get eaten."

"I won't!"

Her laughter then sounded more genuine.

A miracle happened after the train began pulling away from the station with Lan Fang, Ma Liang and Li Chun on board. Wang Hu changed his mind, apologised to Kouya and bade him goodbye, then sprinted and leapt into one of the train's compartments to rejoin his team and family. To return to the older sister that he could not live without after all.

What drew him back to her must be love, not magic.

As the four members of Si Xing Hu Tuan leaned out the window and waved, with Lan Fang holding up Kyousuke's flower by its stalk, Kyousuke let his tears flow.

**

When Kyousuke first encountered Forest Magic, it spoke to him in a voice which he recognised. Lan Fang's voice.

That tiny detail resurfaced in his mind as he waited near Claude's dojo. It had been the managers' idea for him to meet Claude there, instead of directly at his workshop as he and Claude agreed, for outdoor light had a more flattering effect on his makeup and fashionable ensemble. The hour was still early and the sun had yet to blast its striking heat in full force, allowing Kyousuke to stand out in the street without his head hurting.

Was the magic just pulling some sort of supernatural trickery in taking on Lan Fang's voice? To heighten Kyousuke's attraction to its power through speaking like his dream girl?

Perhaps. Then again, the old man who lived in the Black Forest had claimed the magic meant him no harm. Kyousuke preferred believing that over stewing in impotent rage that all he went through was only the product of a practical joke, one of cosmic scale.

Either way, the magic's association with Lan Fang troubled him. For unlike its ambiguous nature, Lan Fang was good to and for him. The feminine virtues that she possessed – her kindness, patience and compassion – not only comforted and delighted him, but also encouraged him to take on those same virtues. Being with her changed him for the better.

It occured to him that in becoming Kyouko, he had also become more like Lan Fang. Especially while wearing makeup and Lan Fang's rose hair clip.

What would she say if she saw his current look? If he sent her the picture of him that Shingo took at the salon?

He thought about it, then killed the idea. The picture might ruin his masculine appeal in her eyes and risked destroying any attraction that she harboured towards him.

Under the shade of a tree, he shifted his weight from foot to foot. He went still to minimise the release of sweat that threatened to smudge and ruin his makeup. Like the rising heat of the sun, his impatience grew to see Claude and have his upgrade take effect.

When Claude's dojo had its doors opened, spilling out boys and girls carrying shinais, Kyousuke kept a close watch to spot a familiar blond head.

"Hey, Claude!"

At the sound of Kyousuke’s voice, Claude stopped and turned in Kyousuke’s direction while shaping his lips into a smile. Then he froze and widened his eyes. As he approached Kyousuke, every trace of emotion vanished from his face, including the beginning of his smile.

Not a good sign, but what was Kyousuke supposed to do? Turn tail and run in his boots?

The closer Claude got to him, the more his presence seemed to introduce an invisible chemical affecting the mechanisms of Kyousuke's inner workings. Accelerating his heart's thumping, warming up his blood. His skin tingled with the passing of a breeze that rustled the leaves of the tree above him and the strands of Claude's hair. As Kyousuke zeroed in on those blond strands resettling around Claude's face, he cursed the unfairness of it all, for him to want to combust into nothing while Claude appeared less than pleased to see him.

"Kyousuke," Claude said, lowering his voice even when he did not have to hide Kyousuke’s identity from anyone within earshot. "Are you here to see me?"

"I was just out on a walk," Kyousuke lied.

"I see. Do you want to stop by the club?"

"No. You?"

"No. Shall we get going?"

"Okay."

With a brief nod, Claude looked ahead, cuing Kyousuke to turn around and walk down the street. No gentle nudge against the side of Kyousuke's arm, which was what Claude liked to do before they took a walk together. No comment either on the obvious boost in Kyousuke’s height that brought the top of his head to the level of Claude's eyes.

Past a row of houses, they walked in silence until Kyousuke said, "Hey, have you noticed that I'm taller?"

"I noticed," Claude replied with a glance at Kyousuke.

Kyousuke's heart seemed to fling itself against the walls of his chest, as if drawn towards Claude. Then Claude faced his front again and the gap between them felt wider than before. Claude's manner appeared all the more strained and distant, even if on the outside nothing changed. Kyousuke lied in wait for the tiniest scrap of a clue, another word or gesture from Claude, that might inform him on what exactly went wrong in the past few minutes.

On top of Claude's troubling attitude, he had to deal with the growing ache in his feet. Being out and about town upped the challenge of walking in ankle boots, which Kyousuke had not taken off since he left home. They pinched the sides of his toes and hurt the arches of his feet, and lifting their weight off the ground with each step wore on his ankles. At least pacing the floor of Tobita Club had trained him to take steady steps and walk straight in them.

After leaving the residential area and getting to a long stretch of road, Kyousuke began lagging behind Claude. He began sweating in earnest but still kept his hand away from his face and pushed forth to catch up with Claude, even as the ache in his feet shot up his calves. When he got to Claude’s side again, Claude slowed his pace, saying nothing to pop the bubble of silence enclosing them in the midst of the noise from the stream of traffic along the road.

They turned a corner and neared a bunch of stone benches. It was as good a place as any for Kyousuke to call it quits. From afar, he spotted a pair of office ladies vacating a bench. Other men and women also dressed in office wear were spread across the public resting spot eating, drinking coffee, talking on their mobile phones or among themselves. They were likely part of the masses disgorged from the surrounding tall buildings when the hour for their mid-day break rolled around.

"I want to sit down," Kyousuke said.

"All right," Claude replied.

They took their seats on the empty bench. Sitting unwound the tightness in Kyousuke's legs and he let out a long sigh.

Claude stared at him and said, "Those boots look rather uncomfortable."

"'Worth it for the upgrade," Kyousuke said, stretching out his legs and crossing his ankles. "At least at first."

"The upgrade?"

"…Forget it. Do you have to go home for lunch?"

"Yes."

Their original appointment had been set for after Claude ate at home and was free to train with Kyousuke until he had to return for dinner. Since they could not stay long where they were, Kyousuke took the plunge to clear the air between them.

He asked, "What’s on your mind?"

"Yes?" Claude said.

"Save your delicacy. Just tell me straight what's been bothering you since we met earlier."

"It's nothing serious. I was only thinking that I'd better have that rematch with Manganji and defeat him soon, before…never mind."

"Before what?"

"Before you prefer going about your days as a girl."

"I do not –"

Kyousuke left his denial unfinished, for it did not matter. What mattered far more was knowing Claude's actual thoughts about all Kyousuke did as Kyouko.

"So you're bothered by my girly appearance today," he said.

"It's not like that," Claude insisted.

"Is it more like…" Even with the gnawing churning at the pit of Kyousuke's stomach, he voiced his understanding of Claude's recent actions. "You think it's gross to see me wearing a skirt or makeup or anything too girly. Am I wrong?"

His words hardened Claude's stare, while also turning it a little pained.

"That's not what I think," he said with clear effort to keep his voice level. "If you really must know, I would rather not be seen alone with a girl."

"Huh? Since when?"

"Since it creates misunderstandings about my interests. It happened on multiple occasions at my school and my dojo, and I don't want it to happen at our club too."

Kyousuke tried to read between the lines and perceive the misunderstanding that Claude wanted to evade. "Do you not want our teammates to see us together and misunderstand that you're interested in Kyouko?"

"Yes, that's part of it."

"I've heard enough."

Scoffing, Kyousuke got to his feet. The renewed torment of his legs went hand in hand with the tightening around his heart. So much for his makeover, for Kyouko upgrading his existence when being her lowered his value to Claude.

"Popular guys operate on a totally different level," Kyousuke said. "My bad for not knowing."

When he began walking away, Claude's hand around his elbow held him back.

"You don't really understand," Claude said.

A rumble of naked fury underlied his words, sparking a similar prickling heat within Kyousuke. He welcomed it as a means to incinerate the invisible barrier that Claude had erected between them. A barrier that he imagined becoming permanent and sealing off all his routes into entering Claude's mind and heart, even when he had done nothing wrong.

"Let go," he hissed. "You'll attract unwanted attention if I have to fight you off."

As he turned to face Claude, glaring up at him, Claude dropped his hand. Being in public with strangers around, who were also adults, limited what he allowed himself to say and do to Kyousuke. Unlike him, Kyousuke had less attachment to appearing polite and respectable, and he answered Claude's frown with a sneer.

"You don't want to be seen with me, and I don't want to see you anymore for today," he said. "I'm cancelling our session. Don't bother coming over later."

"Fine, if that's what you want," Claude replied. "But listen, I don't mean to insult however you choose to dress and look. I just have my own issues that have nothing to do with you personally."

"Then there's no need to explain what those issues are. Just go away."

But it was Kyousuke who turned his back and walked away. Who lied to himself that he did not care for a full explanation of Claude's issues with seeming interested in girls. The novelty of leaving instead of being left, of hurting as much as he got hurt, was far too rare and irresistible to pass up.

His departure turned out much less satisfying than he thought. Some distance away from the stone benches, he darted a glance over his shoulder and saw no one. Of course, Claude took him at his word and kept out of his field of vision, and what followed behind was just the hollowness that chased after him. As if outrunning it was possible, he quickened his pace, heightening his pulse and the tightening in his chest until he was gasping and the muscles of his tormented legs seemed on the verge of wearing themselves out.

He did not go far, only going round to the back of the office buildings. The area was new to him and he noted with some interest the large black triangular fountain between two of the buildings. On the fountain's thick edge, he took his seat and thumped his leg with his fist. That loosened some of his muscular tension, and the splashing water spouting out of the fountain nozzle muffled his groan. He let out another one as he treated his leg to a few more vigorous thumps.

Hollowed out, he had no idea when he started crying. As snot threatened to drip from his nostrils, he sucked it back into his nose, wincing in disgust at himself. In his attempt to get a grip on himself, he pressed his lips together and scrunched his eyes shut, then rubbed his fingers over them as if to grind the tear ducts under his eyelids into nothing. When breathing became easier and his hot tears dried on his cheeks, he lowered his hands from his face and blinked to shed the teardrops clinging to the outer layer of his eyes.

His vision in his left eye turned clear while the world appeared blurry through his right eye. Blinking once more did not change anything. Frowning, he opened and closed one eye, and then the other.

He saw with his right eye as if he had just woken up. The contact lens that he put on it had definitely fallen out, leaving him short sighted in one eye. He brushed his hands over his cheeks, the front of his jacket and down his skirt. The lens was nowhere on his person and had perhaps dropped onto the dirty ground.

Even if he found it, no way was he going to put it back on his eye.

A second wave of tears produced a stinging heat in both his eyes. He really should go somewhere else and cry in private. As he summoned the will to shrug off the weight of his mental and physical exhaustion, a white handkerchief in someone's hand was thrust under his nose.

"Here, take it."

Without thinking, Kyousuke did as he was told, then dabbed his damp eyes with the handkerchief. Faint black marks appeared on the white cloth as it took off some of his eyeliner.

"Be careful with your face. You'll ruin your makeup."

"Excuse me –"

The masculine voice of the handkerchief's owner tripped an alarm in Kyousuke's head. Gripped in utter dread, he looked up at the face of Manganji Takeshi.

They looked each other in the eye. Manganji regarded him in silence, as if waiting for him to speak first. Kyousuke tried to think fast, prodding his mind to present the right lines and directions for Kyouko, someone who had never before met the rich and well-known heir of Manganji Group.

"Are you Manganji Takeshi?"

"The one and only. I know who you are, Genius Gear Master."

On hearing his title, Kyousuke trembled from head to toe. He collected himself, dropped his act and got up from his seat.

He asked, "How much do you know? About me?"

"Probably everything up to what happened ten minutes ago," Manganji replied.

Ten minutes ago, Kyousuke clinched the last word in his latest fight with Claude. Or so it seemed to him.

"That’s impossible," Kyousuke said. "Even you don’t literally have eyes everywhere."

Manganji laughed. "My own pair serves me well. I just had a meeting around here when I saw you and Marume Claude."

"You saw nothing," Kyousuke said, glaring at Manganji even as he worsened the headache that he got after losing one contact lens.

"Your tears are superfluous," Manganji said. "It’s not you, it’s him. After all, he’s gay."

"He's what!?"

Kyousuke clenched his fists and scrunched Manganji's handkerchief in his hand. Everything that Manganji just shared hit him like a hurricane blasting him sky-high. Manganji had not only seen, but also overheard Kyousuke's outburst before Claude and had his own interpretation of their exchange.

An interpretation which Kyousuke was unwilling to dismiss wholesale, as bizarre as it sounded. For it allowed him to believe that Claude had not meant to hurt him. And knowing Manganji's ways, the likelihood of him offering up his take to lord his powers of observation over Kyousuke was greater than him just messing with Kyousuke for the fun of it with nothing else to gain.

"I have another appointment soon. We can continue our discussion in my car," Manganji said. "I'll give you a ride home too."

He looked at his handkerchief clenched in Kyousuke's fist, then said, "And I won't be needing that handkerchief back."

"Fine by me," Kyousuke said.

He brought Manganji's handkerchief to his nose and blew it hard. For packing maximum volume and aggression into his childish play, he got the satisfaction of seeing a wrinkle of disgust appear between Manganji's brows.

Being alone with Manganji and his driver took away some of Kyousuke's boldness. While sitting in Manganji's car, Kyousuke stared at his knees and the exposed parts of his thighs. The orange skirt that he was wearing looked shorter than before. As he tugged down its hem, Manganji glanced at him. Kyousuke pressed the skirt against his thighs, splaying his fingers over the fabric and his skin.

Once the car was driven out of the car park, Manganji said, "Lilika-san told me about what happened to you in Germany. It's a truly fascinating story, even if I have a bone to pick with the role designated for me."

"I'd have let you take the role of the main character any day," Kyousuke said. "Are you saying that you wish to exclude yourself from the story altogether? To not have to play the role of the loser, even in an unofficial match?"

"Playing to lose is unacceptable for someone of my class. But that doesn't mean my assistance is off the table."

"What do you want? I'll do anything, as long as it doesn't involve my teammates."

Kyousuke thought about Tobita Club and its members. Suffering whatever humiliation that Manganji had in store for him was preferrable to having the club's doors shut on him, barring his entry into the building and the team itself. Just imagining it build up a world of hurt inside him. To calm himself down, he gripped the hem of his skirt and released a long breath.

"That won't be necessary," Manganji said. "I've been observing the story unfold further to get a better idea for fleshing out my role. You seemed to be doing well with what you have…Jin Kyouko."

Kyousuke grimaced, and said through gritted teeth, "No thanks to you."

"No," Manganji replied. "But if you go on as you are, your pretense will create someone else's suffering down the road."

"Someone else? Who?"

"Just think about the consequences of you going about your days as a cute female Gear Fighter."

Manganji just called him cute. Kyousuke recoiled at the indirect and dubious compliment, then tried to figure out what Manganji was hinting at.

Whose suffering would he create as a result of him living as Kyouko? Whose suffering did Manganji hate to see? Who might Kyousuke hurt in the future, even by accident?

One name rushed to the forefront of Kyousuke's mind. The name of a boy attached to both Manganji and Jin Kyouko.

"Gomano Shinnosuke," Kyousuke said. "Him, really?"

"He is still my junior," Manganji replied. "On top of being your teammate and not so secret admirer."

"How did you even know about…that?"

"I told you earlier. I know everything."

Manganji paired his matter-of-fact tone with an infuriating smirk. He treated Kyousuke's trouble as if it was an amusing drama, volleying his commentary to further entertain himself. Even as he pissed Kyousuke off, Kyousuke could not help but burst into uproarious laughter, turning the tables and catching Manganji off his guard.

Before the shaking of Kyousuke's stomach had subsided and he was done laughing, Manganji asked, "What's so funny?"

Not a trace of his smirk remained.

Grinning, Kyousuke said, "You're really going the distance to care for your junior, just to save him from going through a one-sided crush."

"A crush that has got him neglecting his closest friend and teammate," Manganji replied.

"Momita Daikichi," Kyousuke said, naming Manganji's other former sycophant​.

Manganji nodded. "Even I don't have your alter ego's power to drive those two apart."

"If you still cared that much about them, you should have kept them on as members of your club instead of kicking them over to our side."

"Tobita Club is where they truly belong. Unlike the case for Jin Kyouko, who belongs nowhere since she doesn't really exist."

"That…"

Tongue-tied, Kyousuke admitted to himself that Manganji had put into words what Kyousuke knew to be true. His place in his team was for him, not for his fictional female cousin. He wanted to build up Tobita Club, to grow with and for both his new and old teammates, as himself and not as Kyouko.

Manganji asked, "Do you want Kyouko gone?"

"I do," Kyousuke replied.

Admitting it hurt, even if Kyouko's existence was pure fabrication. Without it, Kyousuke might not have got a better understanding of everything that he gained through living as Kyouko – the support and affection from those he cared about, and all he had learnt about them since the magic had changed him.

"Then I shall step into my role to wrap up the story for good," Manganji said.

As Manganji's car slowed to a stop, Kyousuke looked out the window. They had arrived at the gates of his dad's factory. Kyousuke would only leave once he got the full details of what Manganji had in mind.

He asked, "Do you know what you must do?"

"I'll have that rematch with Marume-kun," Manganji replied. "It'll be a virtual fight for tomorrow at noon in Manganji Hills."

"Only a virtual fight!"

"Take it or leave it. Well, whichever you prefer doesn't really matter since Marume-kun will be the one fighting Gaiki's data."

Kyousuke winced at Manganji's nonchalant delivery of the harsh truth.

"I'll let him know," he said. "We'll be there at Manganji Hills tomorrow."

"Good. Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

"What's your excuse for avoiding an actual Gear Fight?"

"From what Lilika-san shared, I gathered that I don't actually have to fight Marume-kun again. What changed you was your wish for him to beat me in the World Cup semi-finals, meaning a recreation of that match would better fulfill your wish and change you back. I could make it happen with virtual simulation technology, but not through an actual match with many variables involved."

"You had better hope it'd work, or else I'll –"

"Save your breath, there’s no use threatening me. Besides, I know how important you are to the members of Tobita Club. Not long ago, Lilika-san called with a request for me to offer my assistance within the next sixteen days."

"Sixteen days? That's an awfully specific number of…oh!"

A couple of weeks back, Lilika and Kaoru had taught Kyousuke the importance of counting days for those with periods. A single cycle lasted for around twenty-eight days with the beginning of a new one marking the flow of menstrual blood for a week, followed by other hormone-induced symptoms. Kyousuke had forgotten all about it in his eagerness to erase the memory of seeing a constant stream of blood between his legs.

With a grimace, he clutched his stomach and imagined holding in the blood, where it belonged.

Manganji stared at him, as if waiting for the explanation behind Lilika's specific request. To take Manganji’s mind off the topic, Kyousuke let out a forced laugh.

"Your scheme has kept you from exploring another side of the story," he said.

"Is that so?" Manganji said.

"After the World Cup, I've rebuilt Shooting Phantom to become stronger and more powerful than ever. It's a pity that you won't get to see how Gaiki will fare against it in a real fight."

"Indeed, that will be for the future. In the present, Gaiki will not be fighting Shooting Phantom or any other Gear. I'm done with Gear Fights on earth."

"Does that mean you're going to retire from Gear Fighting?"

"That's ridiculous. I have my sights set on taking Crush Gear to a higher level." Manganji extended his index finger and pointed it up in the air. "Higher than the sky."

Kyousuke supposed his latest scheme involved developing revolutionary technology more eye-opening and jaw-dropping than the VT Chassis. Perhaps Manganji's enlarged ambition would get the Gear God to reappear once more and distribute the fruits of Manganji Group's efforts among the masses, taking Manganji down a peg.

Before Kyousuke warned him of history repeating itself, Manganji said, "I'm taking Crush Gear to outer space."

Kyousuke scoffed. He never thought that Manganji's scheme would turn out more ludicrous than impressive.

"Who would you even fight?" He asked. "Aliens?"

"Maybe, if I run into any in the course of my travels beyond planet Earth. You'll hear the news soon about the upcoming launch of rocket Gaiki with myself as the world's first youth astronaut."

"A step up from being the first runner-up of the World Cup."

"Say what you like as part of the audience for the side of the story that only I get to explore. For now, that is."

"For now?"

"For now," Manganji repeated. "At a later stage, other Gear Fighters will get to join me and participate in interplanetary Crush Gear tournaments. I'll even extend a galactic welcome to the members of Tobita Club."

Kyousuke's head swam with visions of rockets and their roaring tails, Crush Gear rings on moon craters surrounded by the immense black of outer space and Gears suspended in zero gravity. From an environment fundamentally different from any corner of the earth, a whole new style of Gear Fighting would emerge with Gears created on the literal frontier of the universe.

He asked, "How far off into the future would that be?"

"I'll just say that when my vision becomes reality, I'll still exist in one form or another," Manganji replied.

He seemed about to spin out a sci-fi scenario and lose Kyousuke's interest.

Just when Kyousuke put his hand on the handle of the car door, all set to scram, Manganji said, "Then I'll have a proper rematch with Marume-kun, if he loses tomorrow."

"He…"

Kyousuke wanted to insist that Claude would win. Claude had always risen to the challenge when fighting for the good of someone else. But Kyousuke hated to lay the burden on Claude and let him think that his worth lied in carrying someone else's fights.

"He might not be my teammate anymore," Kyousuke said in a soft voice.

The dreadful possibility was like a dagger that he had seized by its hilt and stabbed into his gut.

"He will be," Manganji said. "Won't you do everything in your power to keep your partnership with him going through time and space?"

"I would."

Manganji answered Kyousuke's honest declaration with a smile. It looked warm and genuine, absent of any hint of mockery, and got Manganji appearing more like a senior Gear Fighter who did care for his juniors. It also compelled Kyousuke to slip into the role of a younger boy asking an older boy for his perspective on matters that he seemed to know more about.

"What you said earlier, about Claude. About Claude being…"

"Gay?"

"Yeah. What exactly got you thinking that?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"No," Kyousuke snapped, refusing to accept that he missed an obvious detail about Claude that Manganji had caught. "Maybe you're gay and want other guys to bat for your team. Maybe you just like the idea of Claude being gay after seeing him on his knees for you."

Manganji's detestable smirk returned as he raised both his brows. "That's not my idea. It's yours."

He was right. Before spouting any more stupid ideas, Kyousuke muttered a quick thanks for the ride, scrambled out of the car and sprinted towards the safety of his dad's factory.

**

Never had Kyousuke been more pleased to become shorter. After freeing his feet from the prison of the ankle boots, he flexed his toes on the smooth concrete floor of the factory. With one boot in each hand, he was about to descend the stairs to his workshop when his dad popped his head out of his office's door and called him over.

"Your friend Claude is on the phone," his dad said.

Kyousuke let the ankle boots fall to the floor. He watched his dad leave the door open and go elsewhere with his lighter and cigarettes, off to take a smoke break and let Kyousuke have the office all to himself.

Inside the room, Kyousuke approached the phone on the desk, picked up the receiver and said, "It's me."

"Kyousuke," Claude said. "Are you upset?"

The plastic receiver, transmitting Claude's voice from another part of the city, seemed to thrum against Kyousuke's ear.

"No."

"If you are, tell me. I didn't like how we parted ways earlier."

"Forget about that. We have a more important matter to deal with."

"What is it?"

"I ran into Manganji and we had a long talk. He knows all about the magic and the conditions to undo it. He has agreed to let you fight Gaiki again, but only in a virtual match."

"I see. When and where?"

Kyousuke relayed the hour and place that Manganji had set, as well as Manganji's rationale for having Claude fight Gaiki's data from their first match.

"It's gone to waste," he lamented. "All the hard work that we've put into rebuilding and upgrading Shooting Phantom."

"No, that's not true. It's never a waste for me to fight together with you."

"It's different. It's not like the old days."

The old days of them combining their capabilities to take on the world. The old days that stretched far back to the day when a warm-hearted, strong and handsome boy admired the sound of Kyousuke's Gear, appearing like a hero out of a forgotten dream. The old days that had a beginning and once, an end.

Facing another end of his days with Claude was to Kyousuke as terrifying as the heat death of the universe. He imagined it taking place not as a definite ending, similar to what happened before, but as a gradual degeneration of the unnamable essence that connected the both of them once the long term effects of the magic on Kyousuke's biology began gradually distancing him further and further away from Claude.

"Of course it's different," Claude said. "We've changed."

"Yeah, we have. Hey, Claude, I've got to say..."

"Yes?"

"I was upset. But not since you called."

"I'm sorry for upsetting you."

"Thanks for calling."

In his heart, Kyousuke continued to thank Claude. For acknowledging that he had hurt Kyousuke, and for still wanting to talk to him.

"It's nothing compared to all you've done for me."

Claude was wrong. Kyousuke had done it all for himself. For the future that he wanted to create.

**

A virtual simulation room had been reserved for Kyousuke and Claude on one of the levels of Manganji Hills. At the building's front desk, the receptionist handed them temporary visitor passes and a note for Kyousuke from 'Takeshi-sama' himself. Through his note, Manganji granted his permission for Kyousuke to operate the simulation system on his own, while also warning that an immediate shutdown would follow any attempt to extract the system's data or do anything else aside from conducting the virtual match against Gaiki.

Together with Claude, Kyousuke stepped into an empty lift. It had no buttons for the buildings' numerous levels and would bring them directly to the floor that they wanted to go to. As it rose up the building, Kyousuke smiled, thinking of Manganji's past leniency in letting him get away with stealing some data from Manganji Laboratory and wiping Manganji's ill-gotten data of Garuda eagle to foil his foray into thievery. Pulling off a corporate heist had been quite an adventure, though the stressful events surrounding it had convinced Kyousuke to stick to tinkering in his workshop or at his club.

"You're in a good mood," Claude said.

Kyousuke's smile faded as he turned to Claude. As attached as he was to the warmth in Claude's eyes and smile, he should wean himself off it, in the event that Claude was unwilling to offer him any more of his fond looks.

"Yeah," Kyousuke replied, and faced the metal doors of the lift. "From today onwards, Kyouko is no more."

"What are you going –"

Kyousuke caught the alarm in Claude's voice and explained, "I'm not going to do anything to hurt myself. I just mean that I'll be living as myself, Jin Kyousuke, no matter what other changes happen to me."

He had put away his contact lenses and the feminine clothes that he had borrowed, replacing them with the full set of what he usually wore. The weight of his glasses seemed heavier than before, but by the end of the morning, they were once again like an extension of himself.

"That suits you a lot better," Claude said. "Not just your clothes, but also your way of living authentically."

"'Authentically'…I guess that's one way to put it."

"I really admire that quality of yours."

"Being authentic?"

"Indeed."

The lift completed its ascent and slid open its doors. A short walk down the empty hallway brought them to the virtual room, which Kyousuke unlocked with a tap of his pass. Inside, the controls and other hardware looked identical to the ones that he had worked with in Manganji Laboratory.

Everything had been activated and ready for use. Kyousuke tapped on the keyboard of the main computer and examined its screen. The simulator's user interface had not changed much, save for some minor changes. To get the virtual match started, Claude just had to put on the helmet and pair of gloves set on the circular platform. These were connected to the main computer by wires that would transmit data for a Gear Fighter to fight against.

After Kyousuke gave him a rundown on simulated Gear Fights, Claude slipped his fingers into the gloves and held up the helmet.

He asked, "Didn't Kouya fight with this system before?"

"Yes, and so did I," Kyousuke replied. "In Hokkaido."

"Now I'll get to know too what virtual Gear Fighting is like."

Claude spoke as if they were just trying out the expensive technology as part of a tour of the facilities. Kyousuke thought about also playing along and acting like the outcome of Claude's fight did not really matter. But as its inevitable start drew near, Kyousuke wanted to get real with his teammate.

"Whatever happens," Kyousuke said. "I'd like both of us to live authentically."

"Same here," Claude said.

Just as Claude was about to put on the simulator's helmet, Kyousuke continued, "If my boobs get bigger and my hips get curvier, and I look more like a girl than a boy, you don't have to act friendly with me."

"Kyousuke, what –"

"I'd accept whatever happens if you can't win. Who knows, perhaps far off into the future, there'll be a way to recreate the old days."

Imagining the worst opened a fresh wound inside Kyousuke. He patched it up with the fantastic vision that he got yesterday of having Gear Fights out in space. Of course, Claude was his imaginary opponent standing on the ring's opposite end, as luminous as the stars lighting up the galaxy.

"You're upsetting me."

Claude's voice dragged Kyousuke back down to earth.

"We didn't come here to talk about what we don't want to happen in reality," Claude said.

Up went the helmet in Claude's hands and down on his head, ending their talk.

**

Crossing land and sea, the magic of the Black Forest swooped down upon Kyousuke. In the middle of monitoring Shooting Phantom's clash against Gaiki in the simulation, his surroundings began to change. The straight lines of the machines around him turned fuzzy and when he tried to strike the keyboard, his fingers passed through nothing. A prickling sensation crept over his insides, like a mild version of pins and needles.

When he looked up and opened his mouth to shout a warning for Claude, his lips went numb and all his eyes saw was a large expanse of white. He grew lighter and seemed to rise up in the air as everything around him disintegrated and fell away.

His vision returned with a sharp, hot tug around his hand. A gleaming white line encircled his wrist and stretched out into the distance between thick great clouds pressing above and beneath him. The line tied him to the neck of a gigantic shadowy figure standing with its back to him.

Closing his fist brought him nearer it, allowing him to see it as a phantom wielding two swords, one in each hand. Before it, a four-headed dragon bared its fangs and exhaled puffs of smoke that encircled it and its opponent.

Kyousuke drew his fingers together once more. Three lines extended from the ring around his wrist as three more phantom swordsmen materialised, each with its own pair of swords. With four of them to match four of the dragon's heads, they entered their fight as the dragon alternated between attacking with its deadly maws and expelling streams of blue fire.

When a phantom succeeded in cutting off one of the dragon's head, it disappeared along with the line connecting it to Kyousuke. It also resulted in the line joining Kyousuke with the original phantom to grow brighter and thicker as it pulled him closer towards the ongoing battle. He clenched and unclenched his fist, eager to be transported into the thick of it. A thunderous explosion and a violent gust of wind answered his wish, propelling him into the air and shoving him into the chest of the remaining phantom swordsman.

A severed dragon head fell through the thick clouds, splattering blood along its way. Some of it landed on Kyousuke, engulfing him in gore and the overpowering stench of iron. Another blast of the dragon's fire vaporized some of its blood, replacing its clinging damp with a scalding sting.

Enough was enough. As Kyousuke pumped his fist up in the air, the phantom raised one of its two swords. The last dragon head advanced towards them with its jaws wide open, and Kyousuke swung his hand down. Down too went the phantom's sword, then released from its wielder's hand when Kyousuke spread his fingers apart. The blade was left between the dragon's jaws, keeping it from biting down. Its thunderous growl shook the air while the phantom leapt aside and hovered above the beast.

Kyousuke clenched his fist and threw a punch. Quick as lightning, the phantom drew a clean arc with the tip of its blade, slicing the dragon's neck and sundering the world that connected dreams and reality, falsehood and truth.

**

The whirring of gears restored Kyousuke's consciousness. From the top of the desk, he lifted his head, wincing at the pain in his temples. He pushed his glasses up his nose and stared to the side, where Claude held Dino Phalanx near Kyousuke's ear.

"How are you feeling?" Claude asked. "Are you in any pain?"

He had placed one of his hands below Kyousuke's nape. As he rubbed up and down Kyousuke's back, Kyousuke relaxed. He sat up straight, took his Gear back and deactivated it before sliding it into the pants pocket of his overalls.

"I'm okay," he said. "Is your fight over?"

"Yes," Claude replied. "I won."

"Great!"

"Did you see its end?"

"No…"

Kyousuke glanced at the main computer's screen. It had gone dark, and nothing happened when Kyousuke pressed on the keyboard's spacebar. A distinct stillness hung in the air, creating an atmosphere reminiscent to an empty arena or a shop after its closing time. No doubt, the simulator had shut itself down, blocking off access to its functions and database.

Kyousuke asked, "How long has it been since I passed out?"

"I'm not sure," Claude replied. "When I took off the helmet, you were already out cold."

"That's too bad," Kyousuke said. "I wish I could have seen how you had beaten Gaiki."

"I countered Haou Shouryuugeki with the Lightning Burst. That's the new evolution of Lightning Flash."

"Will you show it to me in our next fight?"

"Of course. Well, shall we go and see if you've changed back?"

After Claude took his hand off Kyousuke, Kyousuke began missing its press against his back.

"Wait," he said. "I'd like to check without taking a look at my bits."

"How?"

"Could you kneel on the floor?"

As Claude opened his mouth, Kyousuke said, "I'll explain later, if that's okay."

"Sure."

Claude getting on his knees evened out their height difference. Kyousuke gulped, and looked into Claude's green eyes. The longer he looked, the warmer his chest got and the stronger the fluttering in his stomach.

The corners of Claude's lips twitched as he started to smile.

Without breaking eye contact, he said, "I really want to know what you're thinking."

"Being around you affects me in a certain way since the magic changed me," Kyousuke explained.

Claude asked, "What kind of way?"

"I…" Kyousuke breathed in, and released the truth dwelling within him along with his breath. "I get warm all over, as if I'm going to melt."

"That's a lot like how I get around you."

"Really!?"

"Yes."

A downturn in Claude's mood followed what he had admitted out loud. He lowered his eyes and unbent one leg to get back up. Kyousuke set his hand on Claude’s shoulder, keeping him in place.

"I still feel that way," Kyousuke said. "But I just know I'm not a girl anymore."

"You had better get clearer evidence to know for sure."

The state of Kyousuke’s bits interested him a lot less after learning about his effect on Claude. To take it to the next level, to affect Claude in the way that he wanted, he exercised the full capacity of his ingenuity.

"There is a method that we haven't tried," he said. "What's usually done in a story with magic."

"What are you talking about?" Claude asked.

"A k-kiss, you fool!"

Kyousuke covered up his stutter with a bang of his fist on the table. Before him, Claude's eyes went wide.

"You want me to…"

"If you're gay, kiss me. If you're not, don't and –"

The soft press of Claude's lips against Kyousuke's mouth smothered the rest of what Kyousuke had to say. He tossed his every thought aside except for his delight in having his first kiss.

His first kiss ever. His first kiss with Claude that transformed the gentle warmth within him into a series of explosive bursts.

It was amazing, it was magical, it was real. With everything he got, he closed his eyes and kissed Claude back.

**

While Kyousuke liked Claude, his male teammate, he still liked girls.

In that case, was he really gay?

He saved figuring out a definite answer for much, much later. Resolving one identity crisis took a lot out of him and left him little energy for dealing with another. In the present and the near future, he just wanted to coast on the perks of living as a boy — regaining his dad's permission to burn the midnight oil in his workshop, peeing while standing and getting Claude's hugs and kisses reserved for him and no one else.

Life at Tobita Club went on as usual regardless of how he looked and dressed. The abrupt departure of Kyouko only got Gomano down, resulting in him skipping two weeks of training sessions. It was Momita who dragged him back, who began dedicating his own training towards lifting his buddy's spirits.

From the desk in the club's main training area, Kyousuke watched the Gear Fight between Gomano and Momita. After Momita sent Gomano's Gear flying, it landed on its back with its wheels continuing to spin. The boy with spiky hair, also the junior who Claude and Kyousuke had toughened up, counted to five, then declared Momita as the round's winner. As Momita cheered, Gomano smacked his fist against his palm.

Even if Kyouko really existed, he had ways to go before he could win her over.

Not long after the start of the match's second round, Kaoru approached Kyousuke and held out a white rectangular envelope.

"For you," she said.

Kyousuke opened the flap of the envelope and drew from it a set of photographs. The first was the one that Shingo had taken of him at the salon, all dolled and made up. He studied his face without glasses and the clothes he had on, saying nothing for a while.

Still looking at the photo, Kyousuke said, "Magic didn't create her. I did."

Kaoru asked, "Do you want to bring her back?"

"Hell no."

Kyousuke just got attached. Like with all his other creations, he had put a part of himself into creating Kyouko. A whole lot of himself, actually. What he wanted to bring back was that overlap as a result of being himself and also Kyouko, when navigating the world as her allowed him to get to know it better.

"She'll live on in someone's imagination," Kaoru said, glancing at Gomano who stood on the further side of the ring. "What about Claude? What did he think of Kyouko's upgrade?"

Kyousuke scoffed. "He didn't like it. He prefers the way I usually look."

The intervening weeks, the lifting of the magic's effects and the evolution of Kyousuke's partnership with Claude had taken away any regret of his for letting the female managers make him over.

"Oh, I see," Kaoru replied. "That's too bad."

Her effort in putting together Kyouko's new look had failed to meet its mark, yet she did not sound upset at all.

Kyousuke put aside the first of the photographs for him. He supposed the rest were just alternate shots that Shingo took. But they turned out to be pictures of Claude — Claude doing maintenance on Shooting Phantom, Claude with his eyes shut and holding Garuda Phoenix close to his ear, Claude reading a book while taking a break in the club and doing all sorts of other activities with him as the focus of each shot.

He frowned as he looked through the pictures, asking, "What were these for?"

"For updating the club's website," Kaoru replied. "I ended up taking way too many shots of Claude since he's really photogenic."

"Needless to say."

For the slip of his tongue, Kyousuke kicked himself on the inside.

He let the photos drop onto the table and said, "I'll put these away for safekeeping, in case he stumbles across them and suspect he has a stalker in our club."

"That's really nice of you," Kaoru commented. "The two of you have really got a lot closer."

Kyousuke had started with Claude a new routine of arriving and leaving for training sessions together. When no one they knew was around, Claude held his hand. Kaoru could not have seen, could not have known that they liked each other and not just as teammates, but she seemed to have noticed the change in their partnership. Kyousuke got that impression from her smile and suggestive wink.

The ring's timer went off, marking the end of Gomano's fight against Momita.

Kaoru turned towards the ring, saying, "They've got closer too, thanks to Kyouko."

At the other end of the club, Fuuko opened the door of the office and called Kaoru over. Kyousuke was left alone until Gomano approached him, slumped and despondent even after pulling off a draw for the last round of his fight.

"May I have Kyouko-chan's address?" Gomano asked. "I really want to write to her."

As far as he and most of Tobita Club knew, family matters had forced Kyousuke's fictional cousin to quit the club and move to another prefecture.

"You'd best forget her," Kyousuke said. "She likes another guy."

"Could it be…him?"

Gomano looked down at the pictures of Claude spread over the table. In the face of the further plummeting of Gomano’s spirits, Kyousuke sent him a telepathic apology and twisted in the knife.

"Yes," Kyousuke said. "I'm going to send her these."

"Oh…"

"But she wants you to have this one."

Kyousuke picked out the photo taken at the salon and offered it to Gomano.

He stood at attention and accepted the picture with both hands. Above his wide smile, his eyes gleamed with a new light.

"Thank you!" He said. "I will always fight for Kyouko-chan!"

As he held his treasure up to the light, Momita walked past and snatched it out of his hands. Gomano's shouting did nothing to bring it back, and only got Momita to pocket the photo and quicken his pace around the club with Gomano chasing after him.

"I'll return it once you fight properly and beat me," Momita said. "I bet that by then, I'd have cured your lovesickness with my Gear Fighting!"

"You wish!" Gomano retorted.

Out of the club's doors, Momita ran, followed by Gomano hot on his heels. The pudgier half of the duo seemed a lot fitter after undergoing Jirou's physical training regime. Kyousuke chuckled while putting the photographs back into the envelope, then got up and headed to the washroom.

Inside, Claude was drying his hands with some toilet paper.

On seeing Kyousuke, he smiled and said, "I was just thinking about you."

"About our earlier fight?"

"About you in general."

Kyousuke returned his smile and took his hand. He clucked his tongue at the damp toilet paper against his palm and set about peeling it off Claude's hand. Claude's soft laughter and the brushing of his fingers over Kyousuke's palm seemed to transform their mundane surroundings, charging the air and Kyousuke's entire being with what felt like magic.