I Ended Up Cross-Dressing, My Secret Relationship with a Handsome Guy (BL) - Chapter 15

“Your life is basically set to easy mode, huh?”

I wonder how many times I’ve heard those words.

It never happened in elementary school, so it must have started in middle school—when differences in status and ability became more noticeable.

The first time someone said it to me was when I started dating a girl who was rumored to be one of the prettiest in school.

I was casually texting her, thinking nothing of it, when one of my friends—someone I used to hang out with often—made the comment.

At the time, I didn’t quite understand what he meant, so I just replied with a simple, “You think so?”

Looking back, I must have sounded completely indifferent.

That was probably why, from that day on, the distance between us started to grow.

Every time I got a good grade on a test, every time I performed well in sports, every time I did something even slightly better than the people around me—someone would always say something similar.

I doubt they’d say it if I was only good at academics.

There were plenty of students who outperformed me in that area.

But people looked at me and said, “You’re one of the lucky ones.”
They said, “Your life must be a breeze.”

When I tried to figure out why, I came to a hypothesis that felt close to the truth.

Apparently, from an objective standpoint, I was considered good-looking.

I had inherited my mother’s features, and her beauty seemed to be a hit with girls.

My height, which I got from my father, only made things worse—or better, depending on who you asked.

On top of that, my parents had well-paying jobs.

That alone seemed to boost my “value” in other people’s eyes.

More than once, when I was dating an older girl, she would joke, “If I marry you, I’ll be set for life!”

In other words—

Almost everyone around me only ever looked at my surface.

The moment I realized that, an indescribable sense of emptiness washed over me.

It wasn’t as if I had never put in effort.

I studied, I trained, and I pushed myself—not because I had to, but because I hated losing.

I never stuck to a single sport because I enjoyed them all too much to choose just one.

Whenever I was called in as a substitute for different clubs, I worked hard to meet expectations.

There were times I failed, too.

But even the people I practiced alongside dismissed all of that with a simple, “He’s just naturally talented.”

It was like all the time I had spent improving didn’t even exist.

Frustrated and restless, I aimlessly scrolled through the internet at home.

That was when I first saw it.

“…What the hell is this?”

It was probably a cosplay of some female anime character.

I didn’t recognize the character, but the outfit looked familiar.

It had randomly popped up on my feed, and for some reason, it felt… off.

I stared at the image, trying to figure out why—

And then I realized.

The person in the costume was a guy.

“Hah!?”

I let out a noise I had never made before.

“Ugh, that’s so wrong…”

At first, it hadn’t really bothered me.

But the second I knew he was male, my discomfort morphed into something else.

I found myself thinking, Why the hell would a guy do this?

It disgusted me.

The fact that I had looked so closely at the image in the first place disgusted me even more.

And yet—

At the same time—

I was curious.

What would make someone dress like that?

What kind of mindset did you need to have to do something so… unnatural?

At first, I wanted to mock him.

To laugh.

To feel a sense of superiority.

But despite my intentions, I couldn’t stop looking.

“…Pale skin, skinny… Wait, seriously? This is a guy?”

He was small and delicate.

Dressed in revealing outfits, just like any other cosplayer.

And yet, something was off.

Even though it was still a man’s body, I felt embarrassed—like I wasn’t supposed to be looking.

Then I realized why.

He didn’t have a woman’s curves.

There was no natural waistline—just a straight torso.

Even with the filters and editing, I could still see the sharpness of his hip bones, the thinness of his neck, the faint outline of his Adam’s apple.

And I swallowed hard.

By that point, I had completely forgotten my original question.

Why he started dressing like that no longer mattered.

“…Are there more people like this?”

It wasn’t just morbid curiosity anymore.

After that, I went about my daily life as usual.

But at night—

I searched for more images of crossdressing men.

It didn’t take long to realize the truth.

I was attracted to them.

Right before entering high school, I had unknowingly opened the door to a very specific kink.

But my preferences didn’t change.

I was still into girls.

I had no interest in guys.

So I figured it wasn’t a big deal.

Until I met someone who changed everything.

“I’m Yukiho Saito. Nice to meet you.”

A small but firm voice.

Short. Expressionless.

His bangs were too long, obscuring his face.

His posture was hunched, making his already short stature seem even smaller.

The very picture of a quiet, unremarkable introvert.

At the time, I had zero interest in him.

I only remembered his name because we were in the same class.

I never thought we’d even talk, let alone cross paths in any significant way.

But then, one day, everything changed.

It was before PE class.

The girls had gone to their changing room, while the guys changed in the classroom.

I was chatting with friends as I pulled off my shirt—

When a strong breeze blew through the window.

The curtain flared up, and for a split second—

I caught a glimpse of someone standing by the window.

“…!”

Pale.

A body untouched by the sun.

Thin, but not frail.

Narrow shoulders, slender limbs.

Not muscular, but not bony either.

Perfect.

For the first time in a long while, I felt genuine curiosity.

From that day forward, I started watching Yukiho Saito.

I didn’t have any plans to interact with him.

I just…

Kept imagining what kind of outfits would suit that body.

“…Kiryu, something good happen lately?”

Not long after I started observing him, my longtime friend Tanaka picked up on the change.

“…Yeah.”

“Whoa, that’s rare. Look at you, actually accomplishing something.”

“Shut up. I’m not useless. If anything, you’re the idiot here. Show me your quiz results.”

As we bickered, I felt a sudden gaze.

I turned—

And for a brief moment, Yukiho Saito and I locked eyes.

But just as quickly, he looked away.

It was nothing.

Barely a second of eye contact.

And yet—

It made my heart race.

Sora Kiryu, 16 years old.

And for the first time in my life—

I had found something I really wanted.