April 7th. Today is the entrance ceremony for Matsubara Girls' High School, where I’ll be attending for the next three years.
Hello, nice to meet you. My name is Tachibana Yuuri, the fourth daughter of the Tachibana family. Truth is, just nine months ago, I was a boy named Tachibana Yuuji. Due to certain circumstances, I became a girl. My height shrank by over 20 cm, and my appearance became something that doesn’t even look Japanese. If I said “I’m Tachibana Yuuji,” no one would believe me. So, I restarted my life with a different family registry—as a half-Japanese girl from Eastern Europe.
When I restarted, my official age went down by about three years, and I was confused by all the differences in daily habits that came with being the opposite sex. But over the past nine months, I’ve gotten used to most of it. Oh, in my head I still talk like a guy, but when I speak aloud, I use feminine speech. Otherwise, I’d constantly stand out in a bad way. Think about it—how weird would it be if a high school girl referred to herself as “ore”? What would you think of a girl with hairy legs? Or one who sits with her legs wide open and her panties in full view? Or one who doesn’t wear a bra, with everything clearly showing?
Yeah. You need to make an effort to fit in.
“~~~♪”
I hum as I brush my hair. When I first became a girl, this long hair was just annoying. But after nine months, I’ve grown attached to it. Skin care used to be a chore, but now it feels off not doing it. I owe a lot to my three older sisters who helped me out when I first became a girl.
“Yuu-chan, you ready?”
The one who barged into my room without knocking was Hina, my former little sister—now my big sister (I was originally 2 years and 4 months older, but after adjusting my age by three years, our roles reversed. Yeah, it’s confusing).
We actually fought over who would be the younger sister when we were setting up my new family registry, but in hindsight, I’m glad I ended up being the little sister.
“Wow, you’re so cute again today. If I’d known you’d turn out this cute, I wouldn’t have bothered trying to teach you how to be a girl…”
She mutters something under her breath, but I guess I do look cute from her perspective. Kind of like how adults look at babies and go, “Aww.” That said…
“Hey! Where do you think you're touching this early in the morning?”
Hina, born on April 5th, had just turned sixteen before the entrance ceremony. In contrast, I…
Well, I could laugh it off as just fat. But that’s not the only problem.
“Is it fun touching your big sister’s waist now?”
Fun? Fun!? What part of this is fun?! All I feel is utter defeat!
Seriously, are you some kind of gravure idol!?
We’re wearing the same school uniform, and yet Hina’s figure is so defined you can see her curves even through the blazer. Meanwhile, I might barely have a waist when I’m naked, but in this uniform, I just look like a block.
I really am glad I became the younger sister. If I’d ended up as Hina’s big sister…
“Tiny Big Sis (Chitchai Onee-chan) — (lol)”
…would be whispered behind my back for sure. Well, even now…
“Tiny Little Sis (Chitchai Imouto) — (lol)”
…is pretty much guaranteed, but it’s still better than being a tiny big sis. At least I can live with that.
By the way, our house is full of busty women. And out of all of them, Hina, the third sister, is the smallest. The second sister is even bigger, and the eldest is a complete monster.
…Genetically, I’m supposed to be part of the same family, but this disparity? I don’t get it.
“…Hey, Hina-nee. Do you think I could ever become like you? I’m not aiming as high as Ryou-nee, but… I want to be the kind of girl who won’t get laughed at just for standing next to you.”
Ryou-nee is our oldest sister.
“I don’t know what you’re on about this morning, Yuu-chan, but if anything, I’d rather be you. Also, I’m the one who gets laughed at when I stand next to you.”
Whenever we have conversations like this, Hina-nee and I just don’t seem to connect. I wonder why?
“Can’t wait to get our bike commute permits.”
“Wasn’t there a meeting for that after school today at the bike racks?”
Ten minutes later, we were walking down the school route together. We may have some differences in appearance, but otherwise, we get along really well. By the way, Matsubara Girls’ High School (aka Matsujo) is about 20 minutes away from our house on foot. We’d rather use bikes, but we need a school permit for that, and they only issue them after the entrance ceremony (and then renew them every year at the start of school).
So, for 20 minutes, we walk to school and chat the whole time. Maybe it’s part of being a girl, but I don’t mind long conversations anymore.
In fact, we got to school feeling like we could’ve talked more.
“Even though we’re in the same year, we’ll probably be in different classes.”
“Yeah, they say twins usually get separated, and we’re practically the same.”
That’s what we were saying until we checked the class list posted by the school gate…
“Ah…”
Class 1-2
- Attendance No. 1 – Aizawa Sachiko
- Attendance No. 2 – Inoue Rin
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・
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- Attendance No. 18 – Tachibana Hina
- Attendance No. 19 – Tachibana Yuuri
・
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・
"Hey, Yuu-chan. Looks like we ended up in the same class. I wonder why?"
"Probably because of my nationality? I mean, I only officially obtained Japanese citizenship at the end of March. At the time of the entrance exam, I was still registered as a foreign national. So the school probably didn’t treat us as sisters."
"Ahh, that might be it. Still, if that’s the case, it’s kind of impressive that the school managed to update your name from ‘Yuri Tachibana’ to ‘Tachibana Yuuri’ in the student records by today, just based on your March status change."
My nationality, by the way, is totally fabricated. I mean, let’s be real—no one’s going to believe “I turned into a girl” by the standards of modern science and technology. And it’s not just my gender that changed. According to medical examinations, I’m genetically and skeletally a completely different person.
To be specific, I used to be over 180 cm tall when I was a guy. Now, I’m only 156 cm. I don’t know of any modern surgical technique that can shrink your body by over 20 cm without leaving a trace. Still, living in Japan without Japanese citizenship is basically impossible. So I cooked up a backstory: a war orphan from a conflict-torn country without any records, born to a single mother, and later revealed to be the hidden child of a Japanese man who had a fling in his youth. That’s how I secured my Japanese nationality.
I officially got my citizenship in late March. The entrance exam for Matsujo was held in early February. So when I took the test, I was still a registered foreigner. The school probably didn’t recognize me and Hina as sisters at that point.
According to the school map, Class 1-2 is on the fourth floor. “Ugh, climbing four floors every morning is gonna be rough,” we joked as we made our way up. Just as we reached the classroom, someone suddenly spoke to us.
"Hey, you two—Tachibana-san and Tachibana-san. You’re sisters, right?"
Who’s this girl? I glanced at Hina for clues, but she looked just as clueless.
"How do you know we’re sisters? And who are you?"
"Oh, sorry! I’m Seta Kayo. I’m number 17 on the class roster—right before you two. But honestly, almost every first-year already knows you’re sisters."
"Um, Seta-san, how does everyone know that? I don’t think we really look alike."
I didn’t say “our figures,” because that would emotionally destroy me.
"Because you two had a massive spat in the gym a month ago! And then you left holding hands, all lovey-dovey. It was hilarious."
Oh that.
She must be referring to the day we gathered before entrance for uniform sizing, gym clothes, and all that. That day was basically my public execution.
Next to tall, well-proportioned Hina, I looked short (even if it was just 2–3 cm below average) and shapeless. Because we went around together, I could overhear all her measurements too.
We were buying the same uniform, but hers was in adult sizes, and mine were in the kid's section. That wasn’t just public embarrassment—it was character assassination.
Let me just reaffirm: I was 100% the victim. But the words Hina said afterward betrayed the truth.
"Thanks to Yuu-chan, now people think I’m the weirdo..."
"Uh, no, clearly that was your fault."
"Pfft. Hahaha! That’s it, right there. The way you two argue like that—it just shows how close you are."
Well, I won’t deny we get along really well.
"And since you're so close and have the same last name, I was wondering why you look so different. Did your parents remarry or something?"
Yeah, that’s a natural assumption. But since she asked, it’s a perfect opportunity.
"Oh, I’m actually a war orphan. Until last July, I was living in a foreign country with my single mom. I had no nationality and was a street child. Then there was a military coup, and my mom was killed. I was starving and about to die when Tachibana-san’s father found and brought me to Japan."
"And just so you know," Hina chimed in, "Yuu-chan is actually my dad’s kid from a fling a long time ago, so she’s technically my half-sister. She was stateless until just recently, but she finally got Japanese citizenship at the end of last month."
——Silence.
Apparently, a lot of people had been dying to ask us about that whole gym incident. They’d all been eavesdropping. And the story was so heavy that it dropped a dead silence over the whole classroom.
"A-ha-ha… You two sure like your dark jokes, huh..."
"It is true (本当だよ)."
I replied in English to flex my supposed returnee status. My pronunciation was flawless. Seta-san looked like she was about to cry.
Honestly, the whole “war orphan” story is completely made-up, so her taking it seriously just makes me feel guilty.
"Don’t worry about it. I figured people would ask eventually—it just happened to be today."
"By the way," Hina added, "Yuu-chan worked hard to learn Japanese, but she’s still shaky on some cultural stuff. If you notice anything off, please help her out."
As the air remained awkwardly heavy, a man—probably in his 40s—entered the classroom. Judging by his vibe, he was likely our homeroom teacher.
"The bell hasn’t rung yet, so you don’t have to take your seats."
That’s what he said, but the clock was already showing 8:30, when short homeroom was supposed to start. With only a minute left, everyone instinctively began heading to their seats.
"You’re all so diligent," he said, mildly amused.
Then the bell rang—
"Just made it!"
With perfect timing, the last classmate who hadn’t been in the room dramatically threw the door open.
"You’re late. Idiot. I’ll let it slide today, but starting tomorrow, make sure you’re in your seat by the time the bell rings."
This loud entrance was made by one of our classmates—
Tohira Asuka.
And she would go on to drastically change our high school lives.
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Maybe I'm wrong in changing the characters of the Japanese names to Romanji. I just use Ai + google translite then deduce the character names in romanji myself. But since it's already been done from the start, I'll use this until someone corrects it with the most truly correct character names.
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