The face looking back at him had skin as pale as if it were dusted with flour. Its cheeks had a faint, healthy red tinge to them. Its eyes were bright and black. Its nose was dainty, and its lips were moistened. It was the face of an angel.
It was the face of his beloved Asaka Ai.
The resulting shock was tremendous. Toshihiko retained his thoughts and his personality, but his body had transformed—into the idol Asaka Ai.
Unable to cope with the shock, he let out a crazed scream that resounded through the apartment, otherwise quiet in the early morning.
The voice, too, was as pretty and clear as a ringing bell.
An hour had passed.
Toshihiko had finally calmed himself. He sat up on his futon and began turning an analytical eye toward the situation he now faced.
From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, he had completely transformed into Asaka Ai. But whatever had happened to his body on the outside, his insides all seemed to be in working order. In fact, he felt better now than he had as Toshihiko.
What luck, he thought. What luck that I don’t have any friends. What luck that I don’t socialize. My parents—my only family—never leave the countryside. That means that I get to live the rest of my life here in this apartment with Asaka Ai.
As soon as he came to that realization, shivers of delight ran through his body.
Because he had little in the way of friends or acquaintances, hardly anyone ever came to visit his apartment. He would be able to stay there with her forever, with no one to interfere. His most beloved idol was his, and his alone, to do with as he pleased.
Until this moment, he had wished someone would wake him from this dream. Now he wished that, if it was indeed a dream, no one would ever come to disturb him from it.
In body, he was Asaka Ai, but in mind, he remained himself.
Before long, he realized that he could play with her body however he wished.
He only had one fear.
What if Ai-chan (that is, he himself) were found by someone? He might be accosted by some strange man.
He thought back to the suspicious figure he’d seen in the frosted glass window but shook his head vigorously to cast away his worry.
He wanted Ai-chan to remain his forever.
For now, Toshihiko thought in an attempt to reassure himself, I just won’t leave the apartment.
Now was not the time to worry. It was the time to thank the heavens for bestowing him with such an opportunity—and to enjoy it as much as he possibly could.
Slowly, Toshihiko began removing his pajama shirt. The dirty fabric slid away to reveal naked skin that practically shined in comparison. His shoulders carried a gentle, seductive slope, and on his chest were two pert breasts.
Toshihiko ogled his naked form with all the greasy lust of his almost thirty-year-old male mind.
Captivated by the beauty of his breasts, he cupped one in each hand and lifted them from below. He pinched his nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and felt the rush of a deep thrill only women could understand.
With the perverse stare of a man, Toshihiko watched as the idol groped her own chest. He experienced the act from both sides at once, the woman’s physical pleasure and the man’s emotional thrill. He squeezed Ai’s breasts so hard the sensation edged into pain, and he let out a wordless moan.
Driven by his ecstasy, he removed his pajama pants. Thrusting out from his yellowed briefs were the two athletic legs he had so thirstily watched on his television screen.
Toshihiko traced his fingers up from his calf to the top of his thighs. When his hand reached his briefs, he yanked them off without pause. Toshihiko’s inner thoughts revealed themselves on Ai’s sweet face, twisting the charmingly cute features into ugliness.
Toshihiko’s eyes fixated on a single point. With full intensity, his male gaze bore down upon the meeting point between Ai’s pale thighs. Toshihiko picked up the small mirror from beside him and drew it near the space between his legs.
In whispered awe, he said, “This... this is Ai’s...” but the rest got caught in his throat.
His fingers wriggling like spider legs, he fondled her hidden place with unbridled lust.
Several hours later, his passion had ebbed. His body weary, Toshihiko lay on his futon.
On the TV near his bed, Asaka Ai was performing her newest song, while he watched in the form of the fully naked Ai. A perverse pleasure ruled Toshihiko’s body.
As if in sudden recollection, Toshihiko snapped his fingers. With a grin, he stood up and went over to his cheap, freestanding canvas wardrobe. He opened the zippered front and withdrew a paper bag from the back.
Inside the bag was an eye-piercingly yellow mini dress with plenty of frills, a copy of one Asaka Ai frequently wore. He had bought it in secret, driven by his deep yearning for her.
When Toshihiko was alone, in the middle of the night, he had sometimes dressed himself as her. He had pretended to be her, then anguished over his unrequited love.
But now he really had become her.
His passions stirred at the thought of being able to embrace the real Asaka Ai, in her real dress. Fresh waves of emotion coursed through him.
Wearing the dress now, he spun in place. Its hem floated and danced in the air, exposing—for a brief moment—the naked form beneath.
It’s beautiful, Toshihiko thought. Feverish shivers of delight ran through his body. He hugged himself, his arms crossing over his chest, and a new fountain of desire flooded through him.
Ai, Ai, Ai-chan, he cried out inside himself as he lay back down on the futon.
Suddenly, a feeling of dread came over him.
His eyes went to the window.
He could sense an unseen watcher’s intense gaze upon him.
Toshihiko approached the window and looked through a small gap between the panes of frosted glass.
It was now evening. On the street, he caught glimpses of salarymen hurrying home and housewives shopping, but he saw no sign of the figure that had frightened him.
It must have been my imagination getting carried away, Toshihiko thought. He turned from the window and started toward the middle of the room.
That’s when it happened.
At the corner of his vision, he thought he sensed something that didn’t feel right. He put his eye up to the window.
A tall electric pole stood beside a house across the street. There, lurking in its shadow, was a stooped-over man trying to escape notice.
An indescribable terror gripped Toshihiko.
Toshihiko knew the man hiding behind the utility pole would come back to peek through the window into his room. The man was like Toshihiko had once been—timid and afraid of strangers but filled with incredible lust.
The thought made the soft, downy hairs of his body stand up on end.
He must be another sick fan like me, Toshihiko thought with certainty. And not just a fan of any idol singer—a fan of Asaka Ai. He’s been watching me—watching Asaka Ai—through the gap in my window.
Toshihiko’s right eyelid twitched. He won’t be able to contain his desire. He’ll come back to watch again.
Or, he thought as the blood drained from his face, he might already be coming.
Quickly, Toshihiko checked to make sure his door was locked. It was.
He let out a deep sigh of relief and collapsed onto his futon. Deep down, he wished that he was worrying over nothing, that he had nothing to fear. But he knew better. All he had to do was look inside himself to know exactly what that kind of person was thinking.
That kind of man was clever, if nothing else. He appeared meek but was capable enough of taking action.
And so, Toshihiko knew the man was coming.
He turned off the TV and made himself alert. He couldn’t know from where the man would come. He couldn’t allow himself to relax. He needed to watch, listen, and be ready.
Toshihiko heard strange footsteps in the hallway outside his apartment. They seemed to drag miserably across the floor.
It was him. Toshihiko knew it was him. The footsteps were not the product of an overactive imagination.
There, listen. Just as Toshihiko had dreaded, they stopped outside his door.
Knock, knock...knock.
Even the way he knocked was hesitant.
Hearing such a cowardly knock reminded Toshihiko of his former self, and the likeness sparked an angry irritation. The only thing to do to a man like that was to meet him head-on and tell him off.
Toshihiko approached the door and spoke. “Who is it?!”
It came out harsher than he’d intended. He felt as if he could see the man’s stunned reaction on the other side of the door.