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It was dark, in this room - almost comfortably so.
Kazumi was looking out through the glass, trying to make sense of the shapes around her. There was a bed, blankets tossed aside like the inhabitant hadn't bothered making it this morning. Pillows, or maybe stuffed animals, were piled high across it.
She tried to turn her head, but found quickly she couldn't. How odd. Oh well.
There were some kind of posters on the wall that were still within her sight, not that she could make them out in the darkness.
Vaguely, she wondered where she was - obviously, someone's bedroom. But whose was it, and why?
...Thinking about that was hard, and a little bit scary. She opted to let her mind quiet down, just... looking. It was peaceful to just look, felt nice to not try so hard to think. To let her mind soften, wandering through clouds.
She didn't know how long it had been - no clocks in her line of sight - but suddenly, she heard the somewhat distant slamming of a door, followed by a loud groan. The man was cursing about something, slamming things around, and that fear returned. Was he going to come and slam her into the ground, too? Twist her neck?
She wanted to cry, but nothing came up.
The noise settled, the man now grumbling incoherently. The door to the room opened, and the light flicked on. As soon as she heard the voice better, could see the man, her fears dissipated.
"...Fuckin' bullshit... askin' me to take on that much shit..." he complained, "'Ooh, Majima-san, we need ya so baaad,' fuck off already..."
He pulled off his eyepatch, slinging it somewhere onto his bedside cabinet, before turning and approaching Kazumi.
...
Huh. He was so much bigger, wasn't he?
He opened the door to the display cabinet, smiling fondly at her, running a gentle finger over the waves of her hair.
"Oh, I'm sorry if I scared ya, princess..." he sighed, talking to her - whether he was aware she was actually alive, or just projecting his own thoughts, she couldn't tell. "Just had a real shit day at work today. Tch, everyone thinks they own me."
She liked the sound of his voice - despite his yelling and complaining, now his every word was gentle, full of love and care.
"...Guess ya prolly know that feelin', bein' a doll 'n all, don'tcha? Ah, Kazumi-hime..."
A doll... yes, that made sense. She was a pretty little doll, that was why she didn't need to think so hard, why she couldn't move of her own volition. Why Majima was so much bigger.
He hummed, continuing to soothe himself by petting her hair.
"I gotcha somethin' nice, the other day... ain't had time to fix it up for ya til now, though. I should show ya... hold on."
A minute passed between him walking off and walking back - bringing with him a small pink ballgown, still inside its package, bundled with a pair of delicate, sparkly shoes, shimmery stockings and long gloves - both pale and sheer - and most beautiful of all, a silver tiara with tiny ruby-pink gemstones.
"Real nice, ain't it?" he chuckled, then shook his head, "Ah... dunno why I... keep talkin' to ya like this. Guess I just get lonely..."
So he didn't know, after all... that made her sad. She wished she could show him, somehow - reach up to touch his face, kiss him with her tiny little lips - but nothing worked.
He carefully opened up the package, snipping each piece from its confines, placing the little accessories off to her side somewhere.
Despite his own protesting, he spoke to her again. "Hey. Gotta pick ya up, alright? Just need to see how this'll fit..."
Gently, he turned her body around, freeing her from the doll stand cinched around her waist. He held the dress against her form, scrutinising its fit - or lack thereof, it seemed.
"It's gonna take work... y'know, these companies, they really don't make clothes for dolls like yerself. S'a real shame... but, anythin' for my lil Kazumi-hime," he punctuated with a smile. "Yer worth the world 'n more."
Retrieving the accessories, he closed the door, walking out of the bedroom with her and everything in tow.
She liked this, being safe within his hand. He nudged open the door to another room, one full of craft supplies - and a sewing machine, maybe a little old these days but well-cared for.
Sitting down, he laid out the assortment on the desk as well as Kazumi herself, clearing his throat. "Gotta get ya undressed."
He seemed almost embarrassed as he said it, carefully undoing the clasps on Kazumi's current dress - pink with a sweet little cherry print, now that she could look at it - as well as the white blouse underneath, and slipping off her little pink shoes. That left her with just her bra and bloomers - both custom made by Majima himself, if she had to guess.
It dawned on her that she had the mould of a male doll, hence why nothing seemed to fit out of the box. Her breasts were differently shaped and distributed, her form wider and less dainty, even her limbs thicker... it wasn't that she hated it, but, why was he treating her like any of the other girls...? He could have found much prettier, sweeter little female dolls, ones that he didn't have to work near as hard just to dress. Then he could just enjoy them, without having to worry.
But the way he looked at her... there was a genuine sparkle in his eye - like he'd found the love of his life within her.
He bent her legs right from the hip, her bloomers riding slightly out of place. He readjusted them, sitting her down on a plush chaise lounge, sized just for a doll like her. He posed her hands to rest in her lap, crossing her legs at the ankle so she could sit like a real lady, then smiled.
"So pretty... yer such a sweet girl, Kazumi-hime."
He stroked her hair once more, gently turning her head to the side so she could watch, and then his own attention back to the clothes. He muttered to himself about deconstructing the pattern, finding a good match for the colour, maybe adding a few more embellishments... things that sort of flew over her head, but then, it wasn't like dolls needed to understand the process.
So she sat quietly - as if she had any other choice - just watching Majima's actions. Rifling through his fabric stash, grinning when he found something he liked, pulling out little pouches of beads and flowers - cutting the pieces, taking apart the ballgown, promising softly to her that she'd have it back even better than before.
When the sewing machine roared to life, she felt the vibrations rumble through her, further clearing her head. It was strangely relaxing, like rain tapping against the window, or the purring of a beloved cat - though definitely louder, especially from her perspective. She watched the fabric transform under Majima's fingers, his careful guidance, like he was working on a grand masterpiece to be displayed hundreds of years from now, and not... a costume for a doll pretending to be a girl.
Why did he love her more than any other? She wished she could ask. Get inside of his head, figure out why... why her. He seemed so content to be working on the dress, like none of these thoughts were anywhere near his mind.
...If he wasn't worrying... maybe... maybe it was okay not to worry herself, she tried to reason.
Finally, he seemed to come to a point where he was happy with the dress - the new panels to accomodate her bulkier body were a near perfect match for colour, and he'd even slightly adjusted the way the layers of the skirt would sit, and added some extra pearly adornments to the collar. He hummed, digging through a drawer full of spare or rejected clothing pieces, and smiled triumphantly when he found what he was looking for - a sheer wrap skirt, sewn onto a ribbon.
"Was waitin' for the perfect chance to use this..." he said aloud, not particularly to her, but it made her happy anyway.
"Let's see the fit so far."
He picked her up, straightening out her pose and slipping the dress over her legs, pulling it up, up, the bodice hugging her so comfortably even without its fastening. Even more carefully, he manouevred her arms through the off-shoulder collar and sleeves, already looking so genuinely bright and happy.
Turning her over, gently set on the desk as he needed both hands, he clasped her dress closed - a perfect fit, just for her. The wrap was a little more awkward to get on, being turned and twisted around several times over, but soon that too was snug around her hips, tied off in the back. Holding her once more, he smoothed out the layers of fabric, fixing the hair that had fallen into her face, actually sniffling with joy.
"Kazumi-hime... what a beauty... Ya ain't even done yet, but I- shit..." he chuckled at himself, wiping away a tear. "Look at me, grown man cryin' over a doll... If only anyone else knew how to appreciate ya..."
He drew her in closer, genuinely- genuinely hugging her to his chest. She could feel his warmth, hear the beating of his heart, melting away any and all of her doubts. She would do anything to be here forever, to feel this loved by him for all of eternity. There was nothing and no one else she needed.
Soon, though, she was pulled away. She wished she could beg to be put back!
"Right, I uh- I gotta... finish the rest, too..." he said, clearing his throat. He returned her to her sitting pose, admiring the fall of the fabric around her legs as he readjusted the layers, before stress-testing both the gloves and the stockings around her limbs. He reasoned it would probably be easier to just make new ones from scratch, flipping open a notepad and muttering to himself each of the numbers as he drew up patterns. Soon, he got down to work, the pieces all ready and cut out, waiting for the right fabric. He found a match for the wrapped overskirt sitting around her hips, and grinned.
She watched, mesmerised once again, as he worked, turning what was ordinary fabric into... magic. A special sort of magic, that made her feel truly like a girl - delicate, pretty, doted on - draped in shimmery pinks and adorned with rosy jewels.
Soon enough - though maybe it was a long time after all, she'd lost herself in the magic, awareness melting away with the rumbling machine - the new accessories were finished. He straightened out her arms first, slipping on one glove and then the other. The stockings were next, as he picked her back up and straightened her out to finagle under the skirt. Finally, shoes...
There was no way the original shoes were going to fit her, being made for girls poised on their tiptoes and not her flatly-positioned feet, and he seemed to have already known that, giving her back the ones she was wearing previously. The dress was long enough they would barely be seen, anyhow.
"I'll make ya more proper shoes another day, but it'll take longer. Gotta wait for shit to dry... it'll be fun, though. Maybe we can make ya a whole bunch at once!"
We. She liked that, even if she knew full well he wasn't aware of her animacy.
The last touch was the sparkling tiara, which he carefully tucked into her hair, pulling a few strands over and braiding them tightly to secure it in place.
Finally, he sighed happily, caressing her little cheek with the back of his finger. Then- he planted a kiss on her forehead, marvelling at her beauty. Captivated, entranced, fully lost within his own love.
"Let's get ya back to yer mirror. Maybe I should get one in here, too... ah, but then the studio's a fuckin' mess, it'll distract ya from yer beauty..."
Back to his bedroom they went - and hers as well, in a way? - quickly grabbing her clear doll stand and carrying her to a spot she hadn't seen before. It was a model room, laid out on a desk - the furniture varying shades of pink and white, a beautiful bedspread with ruffled pillows, checkered black and white floors, a jewelled chandelier hanging from the ceiling...
This was... all hers? Everything here was so much more ornate than even the things he gave himself!
He swapped out a part on the stand, before gently pushing her back into it. It hugged her comfortably, and he hummed as he thought over her posing. He settled on drawing her hand up to her mouth, the other 'clutching' at her side, as if she couldn't believe her own reflection, the beauty she saw within.
Finally, he set the stand into the room - and the pose reflected her own feelings perfectly. She had seen each of the pieces on their own, but had no way until now to see them on herself, not even to look down and sneak a peek. This was overwhelming, in the best of ways.
She was... she was absolutely beautiful. It was enough to make her forget that she wasn't like the other girls out there, with their cinched waists and tiny, delicate hands. Her carved musculature looked genuinely soft, and even her little patch of beard that her hand didn't fully cover didn't detract. No, it... somehow, it added to her beauty. Like Majima knew every little tip and trick to draw it out of her, in spite of the body that clearly wasn't built for it.
She wanted to cry, to overflow with tears.
She heard the clicking of a camera, could see the shadow behind her moving, changing position. She wasn't a mere doll, but a piece of art...
He hummed, gently adjusting her pose with a slight tilt of her head, before returning to his camera, sweet compliments under his breath. Pretty, darling, gorgeous - the most beautiful girl in the world...
When he was content with his pictures, sure to pick out his favourites later, he turned her stand out towards the rest of the room, so she was facing him once again. He dropped her hand down from her face, now palm-down and resting just below her chin, letting her 'hold' his finger right there.
"Can't believe I'm so lucky... I hope ya feel lucky too, Kazumi-hime."
He leaned in, planting another large kiss on her forehead, mind swallowed up in his love...
Kiryu - Kazumi? - awoke early, a sleeping Majima cuddled next to her. She smiled softly, caressing his cheek with a feather-light touch, her thoughts still fuzzy with pure love, telling her what a beautiful girl she was.
"I liked being your doll," she whispered, knowing he wouldn't hear her. "Your sweet princess..."
Maybe she would tell him about the dream later... for now, she just relaxed back into that sweet state of mind, waiting dutifully for him to wake up.