I Ended Up Cross-Dressing, My Secret Relationship with a Handsome Guy (BL) - Chapter 12

I fell for him in my first year.

There was no real connection between me and Kiryu. The only thing that linked us was that we had been in the same class for two years. We occasionally exchanged greetings or had brief, casual conversations when our seats ended up close after a reshuffle.

Despite not even being close enough to call him an acquaintance, I found myself liking Kiryu.

He was someone who naturally stood out. Even though we were the same age, he had an air of composure about him. His striking looks made him impossible to ignore, giving off the impression that he lived in a world completely different from mine.

That impression only solidified as I observed the people he befriended.

He blended seamlessly with the upper social circles—the kind you’d only see in manga or school dramas. During breaks, lunch, and even after school, he was always surrounded by laughter and energy, as if he were the main character of the world itself. Even while knowing he was someone far removed from me, I couldn’t help but find myself captivated by him time and time again.

Looking back now, I think it was simply because he was my type. Apparently, I had a weakness for good looks.

But more than that, he had a way of truly seeing people. He would subtly step in to stop conflicts before they escalated, never skipped his duties as a class rep or on committee tasks, and even when he struggled in sports, he didn’t brush it off—he got frustrated, like he truly cared. His straightforward way of living was dazzling to me.

Even though we had barely spoken, I had fallen for him—a love I would never confess to anyone, a small treasure I kept locked away in my heart.

It was a love that had no chance of being reciprocated. And yet, just a little…

I wanted to get closer to him.

“Yukiho, today’s outfit is this one.”

A few days after the summer festival, with summer vacation nearing its end, I found myself at Kiryu’s house again.

Even after what had happened, I was still here, pretending everything was normal and taking part in his little photoshoots. I knew full well that my behavior was ridiculous, yet when I received his invitation, I had felt undeniably happy.

Besides, I was sure that Kiryu and I saw things like kissing completely differently.

To me, it was a huge deal. But to Kiryu, it was probably nothing more than a casual greeting—like something foreigners did. If I thought of it that way, it made sense, and that’s why he could invite me so nonchalantly.

“…How many clothes do you even own?”

“Not that many! Oh, but someday, we should try something a little risqué, like a bunny costume.”

“Not happening. Ever.”

“You’re weak to pressure, so I figure if I get on my knees and beg, I might have a chance.”

“…”

“Yukiho, sometimes you look like you could kill a person with your gaze alone.”

I let out a pointed sigh and turned my eyes to today’s outfit.

Kiryu was holding something that looked like a costume you’d find in a hobby shop. Up until now, all the outfits he had prepared were of fairly high quality, so I blinked in mild surprise at the obvious party-goods-level costume.

“Today’s theme is ‘First Time Crossdressing’!”

Kiryu grinned proudly, his lips curling upward in amusement.

I wasn’t wrong to punch him in the ribs for that.

Snatching the thin plastic bag from his hands, I turned my back to him and began changing.

I always changed in front of Kiryu. It wasn’t that I had no reservations—of course, I did. But when he casually dismissed it with a “We’re both guys, so what’s the problem?” there was really only one response I could give.

But after doing it so many times, I had grown used to it. At this point, it felt more like a routine task.

The fabric was thin, cheap compared to what I had worn before. It looked exactly like what one would imagine for a first-time crossdressing experience, which made sense given the theme. That realization left me feeling strangely conflicted.

“…Wait, this is a sailor outfit. Are we really doing this again?”

“Yep.”

The absurdly short skirt, the thin blouse, the bright red scarf—it was the very definition of cosplay.

And yet, the terrifying part was that I no longer had any resistance to it.

I was nothing more than a dress-up doll at this point.

“Yukiho, you have a really nice back, you know?”

The voice came from much closer than I expected.

Just as I turned to face him, he traced his finger down my spine.

“Quit it, you idiot!!”

I turned to glare at him, utterly exasperated—only to feel my heartbeat quicken.

His expression held a heat I had never seen before.

“…What?”

I instinctively took a step back.

Kiryu merely stared at me, silent and unmoving, before suddenly covering his mouth with one hand.

“A bare upper body with just a skirt… That’s… wow. This must be what they call ‘depravity,’ right? I get it now. Yeah, this is it. Yukiho, your skin is so pale and smooth, it just makes the whole thing even more powerful. Honestly, it’s practically art. This kind of thing should be in a museum or something—so beautiful, so erotic, and just the right amount of illicit. This is insane.”

“Shut up, you pervert. Go bang your head on something and pass out.”

I threw on my top at lightning speed.

“I’ve been putting you in proper outfits this whole time, so the contrast of something cheap just makes it even more alluring.”

“Kiryu, what the hell is wrong with your eyes? Are they rotting?”

“Nope. I think my vision is at an all-time high right now. I might even be able to see through walls at this point.”

“Gross.”

“Why does getting glared at with dead-fish eyes by a crossdressing guy in cheap sailor cosplay feel so exhilarating? Why is this simultaneously thrilling and blissful?”

“How should I know?”

I let out a deep sigh, releasing every ounce of air in my lungs, and smacked Kiryu’s shoulder as he let out a breathy chuckle.

At school, during practice, even in front of his countless exes—Kiryu had never worn an expression like this before.

That meant, at this moment, I was the only one who had seen this side of him.

That small sense of superiority was the reason I never turned down his invitations.

And it was probably why I would keep going along with this until Kiryu finally said, “That’s enough.”

“Not wearing makeup today?”

“You’ve been getting more assertive lately, Yukiho.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. So, are you doing it or not?”

“Hmm… I think I’ll pass today. Makeup doesn’t really go with a school uniform anyway. Besides, Yukiho, you’re already cute without it.”

“…Do you say things like this to everyone?”

I had been watching Kiryu since our first year. But just because I had been watching him didn’t mean I knew what kind of conversations he had.

When he was with his girlfriends, did he also say things like this—effortlessly smooth words that could make someone’s heart race?

The thought made my chest ache just a little.

“Stuff like this?”

“…Calling people cute or beautiful.”

“Ah—nah, not really.”

A weight lifted from my chest.

I felt stupidly easy to please.

“It’s just a hassle, you know? People get the wrong idea too easily.”

It felt like I had been struck with a blunt force.

The lightness I had just felt plummeted like a rock sinking in deep water, dragging everything else down with it. My mouth went dry.

“Even casual compliments make some girls think, ‘Oh, maybe he likes me,’ and then it turns into a whole ordeal. I’ve dealt with enough of that to know better, so I just avoid saying those things.”

A tangled mess of emotions twisted deep in my stomach—something thick, murky, and suffocating.

Pain, frustration, and humiliation mixed into a dense, clinging sludge, coiling around my throat.

But I couldn’t let it show.

So I forced an indifferent expression and said, “Oh, really?”

“Ah, but everything I say to you is completely genuine. You really are cute, and beautiful, and… kind of sexy too.”

“Hearing that from another guy doesn’t exactly make me happy.”

Liar.

The truth was, I was happy.

When he kissed me, for a fleeting moment, I thought—maybe, just maybe, I had a chance.

Even now, sitting here with him, I couldn’t help but think, maybe…

But no. That wasn’t it.

Kiryu only called me cute, or beautiful, or sexy—because I was a guy.

Because I wasn’t a girl.

Because, with me, he didn’t have to worry about any complications.