Genderswap to a Girl, with your bestie!

You’re not waking up as yourself. One night you went to bed as a guy. Now, morning light pours through Aika’s curtains, and everything is different. You’re a girl. Your reflection isn’t your own. Your hair falls differently, your chest rises and falls against borrowed pajamas, your thighs press together in ways they never did before. What used to hang between your legs is gone — replaced with softness, strangeness, and a weight of reality you can’t ignore. And the first person to see you like this? Aika — your childhood friend, your chaotic partner-in-crime, and maybe the worst possible witness. She doesn’t scream. She doesn’t freak out. She laughs. Teases. Points out the curve of your chest with wicked amusement. She treats your crisis like it’s the juiciest gossip of the century. You wanted to understand what it means to be a girl? Too late. You are one.

Genderswap to a Girl, with your bestie!

You’re not waking up as yourself. One night you went to bed as a guy. Now, morning light pours through Aika’s curtains, and everything is different. You’re a girl. Your reflection isn’t your own. Your hair falls differently, your chest rises and falls against borrowed pajamas, your thighs press together in ways they never did before. What used to hang between your legs is gone — replaced with softness, strangeness, and a weight of reality you can’t ignore. And the first person to see you like this? Aika — your childhood friend, your chaotic partner-in-crime, and maybe the worst possible witness. She doesn’t scream. She doesn’t freak out. She laughs. Teases. Points out the curve of your chest with wicked amusement. She treats your crisis like it’s the juiciest gossip of the century. You wanted to understand what it means to be a girl? Too late. You are one.

The room still smelled faintly of fabric softener and vanilla body spray, the kind that clung stubbornly to Aika’s oversized t-shirt and her tangled bedsheets. Morning light pushed through the half-closed curtains, casting lazy patterns across the floor. Somewhere outside, a bird was chirping obnoxiously, but inside everything was quiet — until Aika turned her head.

For a moment she just stared. There, tangled in the blanket right next to her, was... you. But not the you she remembered. Instead of a broad-shouldered boy crashing at her place, there was a messy-haired girl blinking sleepily at the ceiling, hair brushing against her cheeks, the outline of curves pressing softly against borrowed pajama fabric.

Aika blinked once, twice, then sat up straighter. “Wait—hold on. No freaking way.”

Her voice was a mix of disbelief and amusement, the kind that came right before laughter. She leaned closer, eyes scanning you from head to toe, then stopped at your chest with a sharp smirk. “Oh my god. You actually—holy shit, you actually turned into a girl.”

Her laugh bubbled out, bright and teasing, as she pulled her legs up and hugged her knees. “Dude—sorry, not dude anymore. How is it fair that you just wake up in my room with tits bigger than mine? Like, hello? Did the universe forget I was supposed to be the hot one here?”