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Title: The Story of How Souji Got a Really Great Rack
Fandom: Persona 4
Parts: 5/? (1, 2, 3, 4, 5)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Possible Souji/Yosuke
Contains: humor/crack, genderswap

By the time his legs were passably smooth and silky — courtesy of a misappropriated razor, some hand lotion, and plus or minus another band-aid or two — Souji was certain of two things. One, it was now way too late to start making breakfast. That in itself wasn't much of a problem for anything except his conscience. And two, being a girl was seriously hard. Forget babies and glass ceilings and all the other things that might become the subject of an impromptu Kashiwagi rant, women had to be micromanagement geniuses just to avoid spending half a day in the bathroom.

True, he could have called up Rise to employ her expertise on the subject, but he'd been a little worried she would take this as her cue to show up on his doorstep with a complete waxing kit, and he wasn't quite that ready to suffer in the name of fashion. Not to mention explaining to his uncle why there was a pop idol wrangling his nephew into their upstairs bathroom at seven in the morning was a bit more than either of them could handle.

Giving a last experimental tug to assure himself of his bra-hooking skills, Souji slung his backpack on his shoulder and made his way down the stairs, towards the comforting smell of strong black coffee. As much as he was sorry for inadvertently forcing his family to cope with the effects of bizarre magic from another dimension, he still felt like a donation to the Tatsuhime shrine was in order. If this sort of thing had happened in downtown Tokyo, his parents would... well, probably not do much. Ask if this was some kind of call for attention, maybe, and then they'd both take to their cell phones to locate a trustworthy doctor and cancel any post-graduation omiai, respectively.

In contrast, here he could come down to find a steaming mug and a pile of slightly burned toast waiting for his arrival, almost as if nothing had changed.


Well, alright, the shove-clatter-whump combo that nearly sent him stumbling back into the stairs was kind of new.

Across the room, Dojima flashed him a rueful look as he righted the kitchen chair, something Souji was quite sure had only tangentially to do with the fact that his nephew was wearing a pair of girl shorts and knee socks, and everything to do with Nanako's crushing grip on his waist.

"Big bro! Are you hurt?"

Gently, Souji patted her on the head, trying to pull back enough so that she could see he was alright and still mostly himself. "It's okay. It's okay, Nanako. I'm fine, see?"

Nanako didn't because she kept her cheek squashed against his belt buckle, though her arms relaxed slightly.

"W-was it a car?"

"Huh?" Souji blinked, not quite sure where that had come from, and glanced back at Dojima, who coughed awkwardly and averted his gaze.

"I... told her you had something of an accident."

Oh dear.

"It's... it's okay, Nanako, really. I'm fine. It wasn't a car," Souji murmured, rifling through his pockets and frowning when he came up empty. The handkerchief was still upstairs, tucked into yesterday's discarded jeans, but what bothered him more was that he hadn't even thought to bring it, hadn't thought that explaining things to Nanako might involve tears. "Hey. C'mon, look at me."

Of course, when she finally did look up at him, her wide, round eyes only growing wider and rounder, it didn't exactly make things easier. "...Big... bro...?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me."

Even more of me than usual.

Stomping the sarcastic inner voice into submission, Souji crouched down to meet Nanako at eye-level. If nothing else, it might help to lessen the impression that she was staring up at a stranger, an eerie lookalike who had replaced him overnight.


"Listen, Nanako," he said, putting both hands on her shoulders and firmly censoring any explanation that might involve shadows or televisions, anything that might evoke that horrible December that she could recall only dimly. "I know it's going to sound a bit strange, but..."

Black magic gave me a sex change.

He bit his tongue and looked at Dojima again, who was fidgeting with his mug of coffee, clearly just as lost. There were dark circles under his eyes, testament to a mostly sleepless night, and Souji felt another pang of guilt because apart from waking up that one time to the certainty that a girl should never lie on her stomach, ever, he'd slept like a log.

"How'd you feel about having a big sis for a while?"

Hopefully just for a while. His parents aside, he really wasn't looking forward to explaining this to his teachers and classmates back in Tokyo, not to mention the keen-eyed administrators looking through his college applications, and then there would be the hassle of getting his hands on new papers because "Souji" really wasn't a girl's name.

"A big... sis...?" Nanako's eyes grew even rounder. Clearly, he wasn't going to be able to handwave this one.

At the kitchen table, Dojima cleared his throat and straightened, a look on his face that Souji had gotten used to seeing in the wake of that tumultuous December and that, for all its good intentions, wasn't going to help. It was the look of an experienced cop determined to apply rationale to the supernatural.

"Nanako, your big brother's just a bit under the weather right now. There's this new strain of flu going around, and—"

"Oh no!" In a flash, Nanako's wide-eyed confusion was replaced by worry, and she reached out to feel his temperature. "Do you have a fever? Does your tummy hurt?"

"No, Nanako, it's not—"

Dojima's protest was cut short when Nanako faltered. "I-is... can I get it, too?"

"No, that's—"

"But I don't wanna become a boy!"

"That won't happen, Nanako, I promise," Souji said, giving her a reassuring smile. "You won't catch anything because I'm not sick. This is just... remember the movie we watched together the other day? With the boy who fell into the hot spring? It's kind of like that."

"Oh." Nanako pondered this for a moment. "Big bro... where'd you find that hot spring?"


"There's no such hot spring, Nanako," Dojima said wearily, giving Souji a look that said he could have made the virus explanation work, and could Souji please try not to invent stories that would send every first-grader in Inaba looking for magical ponds in the woods. "Don't worry about it. It's... complicated adult stuff. And it's just temporary. ...Right?"

"Right," Souji said, and made a mental note to come up with a better story in the event that it wasn't.

Nanako pouted at the display of fatherly authority, but seemed to realize that there was no use asking any further. She allowed herself to be led back to the kitchen table, and the promise of a sweet omelet even helped her to conclude that big bro was still big bro because only big bro made the world's best sweet omelets.

Dutifully, Souji went about proving her right, allowing the noise of whisks and pans and sizzling batter to drown out the awkwardness until even his uncle abandoned his worried staring, downed his mug and rose to get ready for work. No sooner had he disappeared up the stairs, though, that Souji felt a tug on his sleeve.

Nanako had climbed up on the stool next to the sink to help with the dishes, gazing at him with a searching expression.

"What's wrong?"

With a glance towards the stairs, she leaned forward in a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't worry, big bro... you can tell me. Are you a Sailor Scout?"


A/N: Not the fic I was supposed to work on, but eh. XD C&C is much appreciated.
1) Apparently Souji is now firmly Yuu Narukami. Don't care. He's been Souji for four years running now, and I don't feel like editing all my fics.
2) Yes, the Dojimas are really good at rolling with the punches.