Facing the Mirror

A Winds of Change Story

By Trey McElveen

I couldn't think of anything to say as I watched the two security guards walk Michael to the front entrance. I just stood there, stunned, trying to contemplate what had just happened.

He saw me. He saw me like this.

I leaned against a wall of cubbyholes stocked with cotton twill dress pants and wiped away a tear, which was only to be followed with another. I trembled a little, using the back of my paw when my fingers became too soaked to be of any use.

"Are you okay, miss?"

I wiped one last time before looking up to see the sales associate that Michael and I had attracted the attention of a moment ago. I couldn't catch myself from giving her a disgusted sneer, and she took a step back.

"I'm... I'm sorry..."

I softened as fast as I could and said, "No, no, it's okay. I've... I've just had a very bad day today."

She came forward again and helped me off the wall with a gentle cervid hoof, "I can see. I'm glad those men took care of that boy that was harassing you."

"He's a friend of mine." I watched is minor bemusement as the associate pondered this for a long moment, and then nodded in acceptance.

"Well, he shouldn't have been hassling you anyway." She strode back to the counter and smiled as she parted.

I slowly made my way out of the Men's Department, paws falling in a slow rhythm. I found the aisle, mind churning over what had just happened. The more I thought about it, the more I hated myself for slapping Michael. It wasn't his fault; he was just trying to say something to comfort me, and besides, slapping him was just the feminine reaction I was trying to avoid.

That, and crying, too. Couldn't stop from doing that, either.

I had wanted to curl up and hide away until I found a way to get out of this stupid lioness form, but that was shot to hell. I couldn't think of anyway but to come out of the closet as it were to the rest of the guys.

I cursed much too loudly, and drew a couple of stares from shoppers. I couldn't help but blush, knowing that to them I looked like a demure little lady, and was not supposed to use such language. I hid down lower in the tight tee that I was wearing and picked up the pace, turning the corner and heading back to the ladies department.

My thoughts turned back to Michael, and I just felt so sorry for getting him tossed out. I couldn't think of anything ever happening to him like that, and I know that he had to be embarrassed. It was all my fault, too. I should have been the one to get tossed out; I slapped him after all.

I sighed. Things were getting so crazy, I didn't know what to think right then, so I just walked down a few more paces to the Ladieswear.

I found my mother just where I had left her, and she hugged me when she saw the state I was in.

"I think we've got enough for a while, dear," she cooed, "Let's go home and show you what to do with all this." She held up a bag of underwear, and I groaned aloud.

"Mom, um... Would you wait for me in the car for a while, or something. I need to go talk to Michael."

She nodded, and pulled a bra, a new t-shirt and a pair of panties out of the bag that we had bought earlier.

"Of course. Put these on, though. You look just awful without them."

I grumbled some more and snatched them from her hand, then trudged off to the changing room.

It took me forever to just get the t-shirt off; what with those damn things in the way. The jeans were much easier, and for a moment I looked at myself in the mirror again, something I had avoided since morning, even at Dr. Chin's office.

I was lean, very lithe, but by no means scrawny. My hair draped down by back, and I took a moment to clear it from my front. My chest was... youthful, I suppose. I couldn't find any words in my own head that wouldn't make me think that I was physically attracted to myself.

But standing there in the mirror, I felt that I was. I was very... pretty, and there was no denying it. I had become the object of my own affections.

I felt warm all over, a subtle tingle smoothed over my whole body. It was a feeling I knew well. I'd felt this way a million times as a male, and I knew what it meant. I instantly felt ill and turned my eyes from the image. I clutched my arms to me and shivered hard, surges of pleasure rippling through me as I pressed them into my chest.

I quickly ripped them away, coming to my senses and realizing that I was becoming aroused by my own reflection. I could understand why, but it was a feeling so bizarre that I didn't want to actually experience it.

I picked up the bra and panties and slipped them on, having some difficulties with the clasps on the back of the bra. Once I had them on, I quickly put on the better fitting tee and my jeans again and only then did I look in the mirror.

Mom was right, I did look horrible as I was. My chest felt supported, a little more free. It was almost as if I could move a little better. The shirt felt better on me as well; it wasn't tight anymore, but just right, instead. The light blue of the t-shirt went perfectly with the jeans.

I punched the reflection as hard as I could without breaking my fingers. I wasn't just pretty now. I was beautiful.

The food court was pretty empty, mostly due to the fact that the patrons that usually fill the plaza were in class at the time. Chairs and tables were still for the most part straight and clean, and the janitorial staff were making lazy rounds wiping and repositioning everything. A few furs sat about, eating late lunches and talking with associates, and I saw that some wore nametags that marked them as mall employees.

After a moment or two of searching, I saw Michael, sitting in front of Charley's Steakery, enjoying a sandwich. I straightened my clothes up a little, reminding myself that I wasn't primping to meet a date but that my clothes were still odd and uncomfortable. Yeah, that's it.

I pawed over softly and took the seat across from him. He looked up, not noticing me until I had almost sat down. He put his sandwich away and gave a little smile.

"I thought you said you weren't coming."

I fidgeted in the chair, "Yeah, well... I felt bad about those guys taking you out of the store like that, and I wanted to apologize about slapping you."

Michael took a sip of his drink. "That's okay." He saw my look of skepticism and reiterated, "No, really! It's okay. I think I'd have done the same thing if I were in your shoes."

I smiled slightly. "Well, sorry about all that. It's just that I'm not very happy with all this." I indicated my feminine form with a sweep of my paw, "It's not everyday you wake up the other gender."

"You've got a point there, Mana... uh, Mano. Sorry."

I huffed, "I know that's what you're thinking of calling me now." I settled back on the chair with a sigh, "I suppose I could get used to it."

"Your mom says you're stuck."

"Yep."

"That sucks."

"Yep."

Michael paused. "You wanna talk about it?"

"I don't think that there's any way around that, is there?"

"Nope."

I sighed, and then smirked, "You are a little tipsy, aren't you?" Anything to delay the inevitable.

Michael nodded energetically, as if he was almost proud of it, "Sure am. Someone spiked the punch at the party, and the chaperones took it away, but not before I had... oh... six cups or so of it."

"Wow. And you're still drunk?"

"Yeah. My metabolism's already cold-blooded, so I'm just now feeling the effects."

I grinned, "The hangover's gonna be a bitch, then."

"Can't wait," he said with a grin, "and you're stalling."

"Well, foo." I sat back in the chair for a moment, getting ready for a long spiel about this morning's events. I crossed my arms over my chest, found it already occupied, tried my stomach, found it framed my form uneasily, and then finally rested them on the table.

"I'm still not used to being like this."

Michael nodded, "I understand." He took another sip of his drink, his sandwich getting colder by the moment, "Your mom told me that you changed this morning."

I nodded, "I just woke up a girl this morning. That's about it."

"That's it?"

"That's it. I've been dreaming about a new Power for the last few days; in fact my first dream of it was when Niles shot me with that tranq gun."

"What kind of dreams?" Michael said, starting to get interested.

"Well, I kept flying along my norm-shift wall, towards a part of it that was glowing. When I got to it, it was all swirling with tons of different colors. Last night, I just stepped through it in one of my dreams, and poof! I end up like this!" I gestured to my body again.

Michael laughed, "Well, why don't you just step back through it?"

"Because there's a pane of glass in the way." He looked like he didn't understand for a moment, and I explained, "When I picture it in my mind, there's a big block of glass in the way of the wall. I can't get through it and I've tried everything!"

"I can see where that would be a problem," Michael said. He was really good at overstating the obvious at this point.

"Go get some coffee, man," I said as a joke, a girlish giggle following it.

Michael sobered up instantly, "Whoa. You never made that noise before."

I scowled at the lizard, "I wasn't an alto until this morning, doofus!"

Michael brightened again, "Hey! You could be our vocalist in the band!"

My eyes widened in shock, "What?!"

"Yeah, yeah!" Michael said excitedly, arm outstretched, finger pointing at me, "Yeah! That's it!"

"Are you nuts?! I'm not singing like this!" I squeaked, "There's no fucking way!"

"Naw, man! It'll be cool! We can write whole new songs for your voice! That is, if you can sing."

I grumbled, "I can't sing." I really meant I won't sing.

Michael stopped on a dime and huffed, "Well darn. There goes that." He had to have been drunk to drop that point so easily.

We sat there for a moment, letting the action cool down. I looked around a bit, noticing that the time had not been moving as fast as I would have liked it to. It had only been ten minutes since I had sat down. My mom said she'd come back and pick me up after running to the bank for an errand. Knowing the banks around our town, that could take aeons, metaphorically speaking. I took a deep breath and sighed though my lips, a light whistle escaping my mouth.

Michael tilted his head inquisitively, "Did you just whistle?"

I nodded, "Yeah."

"I thought you couldn't whistle."

"I can't. Stupid Change..."

...The hell? I tried again, and sure enough a slow, soft whine shrilled through my pursed lips. I tried again, louder and a higher pitch this time and it yielded that same result.

"I can whistle!" I shouted, drawing a couple of stares from a pair of furs taking their trays to the garbage.

Michael peered closer, "Yep. That little split in your upper lip is gone. I guess this form of Multimorph is a lower degree. Cool."

Instantly, my paws flew from the table to my muzzle, feeling over my top jaw, just under the nose, giddy and reveling in the feel of the flesh and fur under my pawpads right there. Yes! I screamed, to myself this time. I can play my horns again!

"Very cool," I replied aloud. I thought again about what Michael had said just then, and something struck me amiss, "Who told you this Power was Multimorph?"

"Well, your mom did after you walked away in Sears."

I nodded in assent, "I told her to say that. That's not really the truth."

Michael was definitely interested now, "Oh? It's not?"

"Nope," I said, shaking my head, "It's not. It really is a Gender Change Power."

Michael looked at me for a moment, a dumbfounded expression on his scaly muzzle. "That's a real Power?!"

I nodded, "Sure is. There's only been about fifty documented cases worldwide since Change Day, and only twelve in the US. At least that's what Dr. Chin told me."

"Who was the first?" Michael said. "I'm just wondering."

"A lady by the name of... uh... Rumiko Takahashi, over in Japan. I think."

Michael oh'd. "Never heard of her."

"She made Ranma 1/2 before the Change. She's done other things since then. I always have to think of her name before I say it, though."

"Wasn't Ranma that cartoon about... well, you know."

"Yeah. It was. Delicious irony, don't you think?"

"Yeah. What else did Dr. Chin tell you?"

I squirmed in my seat again, stumbling on the words somewhat. "Well, he did some scans and some tests, took some samples, that sort of thing, and here's where the really bad news comes in." I swore Michael almost braced himself.

"Dr. Chin says that, essentially, this female form is just like if I had been born a girl. I have all the parts, and they work, too, so don't ask. I make all the hormones, I have all the cycles, and until I find a way back to myself, I have to wear all the clothes."

"So, uhh," Michael started, looking a little relieved, "What's so bad about that?"

"Well, first off, I have a period."

Michael eep!'d and resumed his braced position. "You know when?"

"Shut up or I'll slap you again, and no, I don't know when. Second of all, and this is the biggie, since my body is making all the feminine hormones, in time, I'll start to act like a girl."

"What?!" Michael said, loudly, "Now, wait. Wait a minute, that can't be right. That can't effect behavior."

"Well, let's put it this way: if I don't start acting like one, I'll be completely torn up mentally. Every case so far that has had the person be 'stuck' ended up with the person taking on the mannerisms of their gained gender. That's just what Dr. Chin told me. I just say it's the hormones."

Michael sat back in his chair, "Whoa. This has the potential to suck very large rocks."

"Tell me about it."

We sat for a moment, Michael too stunned to speak, so I did it for him.

"So, what happened at the party?"

Michael grinned, "Jim sang like a girl."

I leaned forward, eager to hear this. Seems I wasn't the only one doing the genderbender thing.

Michael and I sat and talked in much better spirits for the rest of the afternoon. The minutes turned into hours, and around six o'clock my mother showed up in the now packed Food Court. She was quite apologetic for being so late, citing that the banks were busy, and that she decided that she might as well get some groceries with the money she withdrew, and from there it was one excuse after another. I was only mildly angry with her, due to the fact that before, as we went to the mall, I didn't want a soul to see me like this, especially anyone that would recognize me. But after talking with Michael about the whole ordeal, I was starting to feel much better about it.

I still didn't like it. I wanted my old self back desperately, and after all, Michael was drunk. So drunk that he had actually come onto me earlier.

"I really am sorry, son," my mom said, "I just got caught up with all the things I needed to do." She held out hand, "You want to go, now?"

I took it and gingerly stood up, straightening myself, "Thanks for the talk, Michael. I... I feel a lot better now." I thought for a moment, and then said, "You mind not telling the rest of the guys you saw me today?"

"Why? It might make it easier for them to take the news."

"I might. I... I just want to tell them when I'm ready."

Michael nodded, "Okay. I won't." My mother and I turned and started to walk away, and a couple of seconds later Michael called out behind us.

"Mano!"

I turned about, "Yes?"

"You really are very pretty!"

Something inside me clicked. I didn't know if it was whether I was so tired with everything that happened today, or that I was becoming more accustomed with my new form, or if it was something else entirely. I didn't feel angry at Michael one bit. Instead, I felt a little... flattered.

"Thanks."

The ride to my father's house was made in relative silence. Everything that had needed saying had been said much earlier in the day, at the Change Doctor's office. But I knew things were going to get interesting very quickly. My mother and I had bought enough clothes and accessories that needed two people to carry them in, and that meant that Mom and Dad were going to be in the same room together. I dreaded that.

But in all the years that ma parents had lived apart, I never really knew any more than what Mom told me: that Dad said he didn't love her anymore. But I just couldn't believe that. Maybe it was my naiveté about the way love works, or about the whole world, but something just didn't sit right. Sure, not loving someone is grounds for a divorce, but not for the heated arguments that ensued every time my parents were within earshot of one another.

I sighed aloud, my mind churning itself over and over about my new Power, my parents, and just the world in general.

My mother looked over from her seat, wings folded back and tail through the chair as she drove, "What's wrong?"

I shook my head, "I was just thinking, that's all."

She nodded, a little hesitant to go any further, but as we approached a stop light, she looked to me again, "Thinking about what?"

"Just... you and Dad."

"Oh." She looked down at her feet for a moment and shifted uncomfortably in the car seat.

"What about me and Dad?"

I turned to her and said, "It just doesn't make sense to me. If you don't love each other, that's fine, but you don't have to go at each other's throats about it every time you two are close!"

My mother shook her head, "It's not just that, Mano. I love your father very much, and I always have. Even though it was rough going before the Change, I loved him."

I was shocked. I had always thought that the feelings between my mother and father were mutual, but this took me by complete surprise.

"You... You do?"

"Of course I do. I never would have used my Power to save him when he was stuck, like you are now."

We turned a corner into a small residential area off the main road. A few streets down was where I lived with my father, but Mom pulled the car to the curb and parked.

"So why do you and Dad get into fights all the time?"

"I have to defend myself some way, Mano. I can't just sit there and take it from him." She leaned over and put her and on my head and pulled me close in a hug.

"I go home and cry every time we scream at each other, and I know your father does, too. He's never been the same after the Change. His mind was Changed, and he can't control his animal side very well. I'm prey to him, and most every time he sees me, he slips. It's not his fault."

"What about today at your meeting with the County Board of Health?"

"He told me that you asked for him to be nice to me, and he was. It was very hard for him, but he managed."

"Does he really not love you anymore, Mom?"

She took a deep breath and sat back in her seat, taking the wheel and bringing the car out of park.

"I don't know."

Minutes later, we pulled into Dad's driveway. Surprisingly, he was there to meet us, and even helped unload my new wardrobe into the house. Knowing more about the relationship between my mother and father, I looked at him in a new light. I realized by watching him closely, he was straining to keep himself in check, especially when he was around Mom.

I couldn't look at either of them quite the same. Where I thought there was no hope, now more seemed to spring than ever before. But I also realized in that moment, as my father and mother stood side by side, taking the last two bags into his house, that it was better for them to be apart.

I sighed, not liking the outcome of my epiphany, but accepting it. I inside and slunk into my room, wanting to pull out my journals and write about everything that happened today. But once again, my feline curiosity got the better of me, and I went to the window and pulled open the blinds to see my mother leave.

She was standing at the car door, my father next to her, and they were talking to one another, normally. I couldn't hear their words, but I could see that they weren't arguing.

But then my mother did something that I never thought I would see again. She put her arms around my father, and kissed him.

Kissed him!

I closed the blinds and jumped over to my desk, my Power and new body totally forgotten, and started putting everything into words. I heard her car pull off, the door to the house open and shut, and then a knock at my door.

"Come in."

My father stepped in. "Mom told me she told you."

I nodded, "Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Dad. It doesn't make everything better, but at least I know what happened."

He tail-smiled and nodded, "Good, good." He hesitated quite a bit, clearing his throat before going on.

I looked up from my journal, "What is it?"

He squirmed in the doorway and laughed, "I always wanted a daughter."

I huffed, "Well, I won't be for long, if I can help it."

"Still, it's something I've always wanted. Oh, and Mom and I decided just a moment ago: you're going to school tomorrow."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off, "Don't even start! You've already missed a full week of school! You're not sick, injured or crippled, so it's final!"

I knew from Mr. Niles that when hearing that tone of voice, it's best to keep one's muzzle shut.

The rest of the night passed swiftly, with me sitting at my desk and recording the eventful day into my diary. With that done, I gathered up my homework that I finished the night before and put it all into my backpack, and finished a few other small, menial things while I was at it.

After my room was clean and all the other little extras were put into place, I eagerly pulled out my horns and stared playing. I loaded up Crash by Dave Matthews Band and played along with "Drive In Drive Out" and a few others. I switched to jazz, blues, new age, anything with a sax, clarinet, or any of my horns so I could play along. I was a little rusty at first, my fingering not as sharp as it should be, and a few songs had slipped my mind at the time, but soon I was flitting away, jamming with anything I could stick into the CD player.

After I had almost exhausted myself on my horns, I got out the violin and started fiddling about. There was something eerily sedate about the violin, and it wasn't long after I had finished my scales and a couple of classical pieces I was learning that I was feeling ready for bed.

I sat aside the clothes I was going to wear to school the next day on my desk: a blue t-shirt and a set of matching blur dress pants, along with a silk bra and panties. I tossed my clothes that I was wearing onto my mirror, so I couldn't see my reflection. Last thing that I wanted in the privacy of my own room was to have another fiasco like the one in the public dressing room.

But that didn't mean I wasn't curious. I took a moment to look down at myself, and ran my paws all along my new curves. As a male, I had always dreamed about seeing a woman just like I was now, but never in the wildest of those dreams did I think that I would be the woman!

Still I couldn't help but feel a little stirred at the softness of my fur. I hadn't been leonine for that long, but I knew my fur wasn't this fine. A throaty rumble built into my throat as I wavered over more sensitive areas, taking longer and longer, enjoying the sensations.

After the late evening news was over, Matt Jacobson switched off the television, stretched and stood from the couch, taking a book from the coffee table to read in bed. He flicked all the lights off on his way, his night vision more than enough to show him the way down the hall. He checked the front door to make sure it was locked, and then turned to walk down to his own bedroom.

He passed by his son's room, and a faint sound caught his ears. They swiveled to the noise, and he knew it right off. For years, Mano's bed creaked every time he shifted or rolled over in bed, and Matt often heard it as he read in his bed. He kept putting off fixing it for what seemed like forever, always saying that he'd get to it sometime.

It was a sound he had heard quite often, but this time, it was a little different. It had a rhythm to it, a squeak that repeated over and over. And with his sharp vulpine ears, he picked out another sound covered up by the already stifled noise. Just barely, he heard what sounded like muffled moans breathed into a pillow, accompanying the staccato groans of the bedframe.

Matt stood there for a moment, listening, discerning the sounds as his mind clicked over the data. It struck him quickly, and he smiled, tail swishing behind him. Quietly, as to not let his son know of his eavesdropping, Matt Jacobson tucked the book under his arm and softly walked to his bedroom.

I woke up the next morning and stretched luxuriously in my bed. It was an... eventful night, to say the least, and for the first time in a long time, I woke up feeling very refreshed. Still I couldn't beat back the feeling of dread that I felt. I had to go back to school today, and that meant facing the Dave and all them. It would have been impossible to avoid them all day, especially when they know I'm supposed to be back today, and how we meet before school.

So, instead of fearing the worst, I simply stood from the bed and padded over to my clothes, put them on, and then scraped the old clothes off the mirror and took a look at myself.

I looked quite nice, if I did say so myself. Presentable, but still not "girlish". I nodded, a bit apprehensively, and then picked up my books and headed out to the kitchen. Breakfast was short and sweet: a couple of eggs, quite raw, and some bacon. Rare. Dad was still asleep in his bedroom, not having to go to work for another hour.

I scrounged around for my keys and found them, then went out to my car, thankful that my mother had taken the time yesterday to bring it back from Dr. Chin's. Even though it was kinda close, I'd hate walking to school on a day like this.

It was cool, not terribly cold, but the kind of cold that gets to you after a while. I climbed in my car and turned the ignition, the energy cells instantly humming away. I cranked up the heat, fixed my hair in the rearview mirror and took a deep, deep breath.

One.. Two... Three...

Into the abyss.

The drive to school was easy enough, but getting out of the car from where I parked was practically impossible. Not that the seat belt was stuck or my tail was caught or anything like that, but I could see Todd in his wheelchair, Jim, Dave and Michael from where I was, and they were looking straight at my car.

I sat there for a moment, my paw on the keys, my wrist straining itself to turn the motor over and get the hell out of here. The fear that I had decided to contain was more than I bargained for, and I was having a nervous breakdown right there in my car seat.

What if they laugh at me? What if they poke fun at me, or ask questions about all this?

Of course I knew they'd ask questions, but I was afraid they would be those kind of questions, and I didn't want to answer them. And the last thing that I wanted was to be laughed at, or ogled at, or generally made fun of.

I sat back in my seat, breathing rapidly, trying to calm myself down. These were my friends, they would understand.

Wouldn't they?

"Aw, fuck it," I muttered, and opened the car door, took the keys out, and grabbed my books from the passengers side before my feelings could scream at me for doing so. I shut the door, slamming it quickly, and set the security system on it with a cheerful "bwoop-bwoop!"

I smiled and forced myself to wave to the group, and then one step after the other, I strode to meet them.

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