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Kiryu liked to think he had long since figured out what it meant to be a man. He had spent his childhood yearning, and while it was somewhat reluctant, had the support of his family at Sunflower to bloom in his own way.
It had been tough, even so. People weren't all kind as he changed - and to say there were cracks in the system was putting it lightly. No, it hadn't been designed with men like him in mind, all the points of pain being simple proof that it was working as intended.
So he didn't wear it on his sleeve. If someone deserved to know, they'd figure it out - if not, that was just fine by him.
And if there was a little niggling feeling in the back of his mind reminding him of his frilly childhood dresses or his favourite flowery accessories, well, it didn't have to mean anything.
When he received a pleading email from Nishida about a woman working at Club Shine, someone who was apparently causing quite a lot of trouble, he reluctantly decided he'd check it out. Just as long as she didn't get the wrong idea about him, thinking he was actually... interested... in her, he'd be fine. He'd get in, sort it out, and get out, easy as that.
Which was why it came as a shock when-
"Hellooo, I'm Goromi!" Majima cooed as he bowed in his pink snakeskin getup, beckoning Kiryu along.
He should have just turned his heel and left, but he didn't - instead following him like a lost puppy.
"Nii-san, if this is some kind of joke-"
Majima clicked his tongue and whined, "C'monnn, lil ol' me, jokin'? Where'd ya get an idea like that, Kiryu-chan?"
He huffed, Majima laughing in turn. "Are ya really that mad, bein' assigned a man?"
"It's not that. It's not that at all-"
He batted his eyelashes, tilting his head cutely.
"I'm not fighting you like this. Look-" Kiryu sighed, glancing back over at... Goromi. "We're just a customer and a cabaret girl, right now."
It took everything not to spit up venom at her. Maybe he was being unfair, and this was Majima's own hidden secret.
Or, maybe, he'd finally figured it out, and this was a declaration of hate. Pretending to be a woman, to laugh at Kiryu's own decades-long game of pretend.
He wouldn't find out the truth if he didn't try talking to her. Whatever the case was, she hadn't been expecting that answer, a momentary shock crossing her face before she grinned.
"Attaboy, Kiryu-chan! So what'll it be?"
He shrugged noncommittally, prompting Goromi to rattle off her thoughts on each of their choices - or at least the ones he could afford. He picked one seemingly at random, and she was happy enough with it.
"Cheers!"
He swirled his drink around, just to watch it shift and glisten under the lights. She let out an exaggerated sigh after taking a sip, cooing about how sweet it was, before looking over at Kiryu.
"Gotta loosen up, big boy. C'mon, tell me, tell me! How often do ya come here?"
Glaring over at her like he was stepping up to a challenge, he downed a few swigs before answering. "Not too often. It isn't really my scene... I found a bar I liked, and that's where I'm used to drinking."
She giggled with mock innocence, "I see! Yer a lucky guy tonight, then - ain't often ya get to drink with a lady like me, I'm guessin'."
He answered with an affirming hum, and she leaned in a little closer.
"Just don't fall too hard for me, huh?"
She smelled sweet, something vaguely floral that he couldn't place, clouding his thoughts just a touch.
"Can't make any guarantees. Love can be unpredictable, after all."
That got her to laugh, drawing out a beautiful grace in her voice. It... felt nice, to be getting that from her. For a moment, he forgot why he was indulging her.
"Ah, colour me im-pressed! Ya play along so well, Kiryu-chan!"
If she had been watching closely, she would have seen the slight sting on his face when he thought of the implications again.
"...I guess I do."
The night was full of little moments like that - though he had to admit, Goromi had opened up about things Majima would have never mentioned before. He already felt like he understood the man better, but one thing still hadn't been answered...
"Nii-san..." he sighed, "I need to know. Is this a joke?"
Goromi twirled a lock of hair around her finger, "I'unnooo, Kiryu-chan. Might hafta fight me to help me figure it out," she giggled.
"I'm serious, I'm not doing that. If you won't tell me, we're done here."
She faltered, a desperate look flashing in her eye. In stark contrast to her confidence tonight, she meekly nodded, "...Alright. But I ain't sayin' here. Better to just... show ya. My place."
"Fine."
Her apartment was more ordinary than he'd expected. Sure there was a bit of mess laying around, but he wasn't innocent on that front either, hardly worth his judgment.
"...Back in here," she sighed, glancing over her shoulder to be sure he was keeping up. She carefully opened the door, and-
The room through the door was set like a miniature dressing room, doused in shades of pink. Wigs were kept on careful display, one or two of the mannequin heads having little lipstick marks, as if she'd gotten so emotional as to kiss them. Following her lead, he stepped in, in awe of it all.
"Remember what I was sayin'... 'bout workin' a cabaret club?"
"Mm. Yeah."
"...Always envied those girls."
Gently, she opened the closet doors, sighing wistfully at her collection. Most of the clothes seemed to be some shade of pink, from the soft to the bold. There were sequins, gaudy patterns, sheers, and-
Smiling, she pulled down a hanger with a long, frilly dress on it, and his mind began racing. She was in reach once again, that little girl, the one who wondered why she couldn't play with the boys' toys, the one who flounced around as she tried to fit in with the girls, not yet understanding why she felt so alone.
How he'd felt her heart break when realising who he was meant abandoning her, just to be believed.
Goromi had been saying something, but it was lost among the static. She took pause when she heard him sniffle, hurriedly putting the dress away and slamming the closet shut, bringing him back to the moment.
"I-I'm sorry," she shook her head, starting to panic, "No, this- this was a bad idea, fuck... fuck, please forget this-"
"Not you," was all he could muster, voice quiet.
"C-course it is," she spat, "You're- disgusted."
He shook his head, pushing her aside to get back into her closet. She shrieked, trying in vain to stop him, but he managed to get that dress back out.
The fabric was soft - he thumbed over the little ruffles along the elasticated neckline and poofy sleeves, held it up and admired its shape. He thought of picnics, games of chase, joining in Yuko's pretend tea parties when Nishiki got bored, unaware there'd be a day he would long for them. He thought of flowers, of laughter, of tears.
He thought of indulging her, how maybe now... now it might feel right, to wear something like this.
How there was no way in hell he could really do it.
"...used to have one like this," was all he said.
Goromi struggled to process that. She said something incoherent, and he took a deep breath.
"I used to have one like this," he repeated, louder, less hesitant.
A silent tension hung between them, as she took in the revelation. This whole time... they had been even more alike than they might have realised.
Soon she let out a quiet ha, quickly devolving into laughter, then outright cackling and screeching with glee.
"Kiryu-chan... fuck...!" she laughed, wiping away the last of her tears, "Everything makes... so much fucking sense now!"
He smiled softly, happy to be clearing the air - and hearing that gorgeous laugh again.
She threw an arm around him, snatching the hanger back and launching into a spiel.
"This one really is nice, ain't it? Didn't even need altering, with so much elastic. Thought about it though. Maybe put a wide lace strip in... right 'round here?" she motioned to a portion of the dress that fell below the knees. "Then it'd be a bit longer. 'N prettier, to boot!"
She went to put it back, but was stopped by Kiryu.
"I... can I keep holding it?"
She quirked an eyebrow, but shrugged. "Sure."
It felt nice to hold it, even if he knew it wasn't enough. It was all he could allow himself.
Goromi hummed, pulling out another dress - this one hot pink, threaded with numerous shiny little black beads. She told the story of how much of a hassle this one was, one of her earliest dresses before she even knew how to alter them herself, a full custom she had ordered from a guy who turned out to be an absolute dickweed. She laughed as she told it, but there was a distinct pain in her voice.
"...So, yeah, it's... Y'know, it's special to me, still. Oh, but this-!"
She pulled out a sparkly gold cropped jacket next, grinning fondly. "One'a my first pieces... what, 16 years ago?"
Kiryu nodded in awe, "I'm sorry I thought this might be a joke, Goromi."
"Haw? N-nah, don't be sorry, Kiryu-chan," she waved her hand, "I'm... the one who made ya think it, actin' like that. If I'd'a known you were..."
"It's fine. I've never liked telling people."
She nodded thoughtfully, "Ya really do trust me, huh..."
"Yeah. I did mean that, when I said it."
"Oh, Kiryu-chan," she snickered, "It's fuckin' over now. Gonna be ridin' that high forever!"
She went through just about every article of clothing, telling stories like she was talking about fond friends, to an enamoured Kiryu.
When it finally dawned on her just how late it had gotten, she sighed, "Prolly should be gettin' home, Kiryu-chan..."
She motioned for him to hand over the dress, but he hesitated. He'd never see it again, probably... he had to treasure this moment. So he held onto it... And held onto it some more.
"...Kiryu-chan?"
He looked up at her, suddenly aware he had started tearing up again.
"I know that look..." she said softly, "You wanna wear it, don'tcha?"
He steeled himself, shaking his head, "No, I... I don't- I could never..."
"...Come back tomorrow night. 'Kay?"
As he nodded and finally let her take the dress, she absentmindedly planted a kiss on his cheek. When she realised what she had done, leaving a pink mark behind, she stammered, "I-I'll clean that up-"
"Please don't."
When Kiryu turned up at Majima's apartment the next day, all traces of Goromi had been neatly hidden away. Good old Goro Majima himself beckoned him in - seeming a little more tired than usual, but he didn't dare ask. He wondered how often Goromi got to be herself, what she really meant...
"So, what're ya thinkin'?" Majima asked, bringing Kiryu back from his thoughts.
He sighed, "That I shouldn't be doing this?"
"But ya came anyway."
"Yeah."
He grasped for words, "I should have left all of that behind by now... I don't know that I'd still be here, if I hadn't gotten to transition. I'm beyond grateful to have what I have, so I don't understand..."
Thinking on it, Majima offered, "Maybe... that girl ain't all just in the past."
"But she should be. It's been... so, so long, since I ever thought of myself as her."
Majima nodded, "Don't always work out that way. Believe me, 16 years 'n I still ain't figured out what Goromi is. If that girl's hurtin' this bad..."
Kiryu sighed. Of course Majima had a point - regardless of what she really meant, she was in there, aching to be let out.
"...I want it all. The- the hair, the makeup, everything."
Majima slightly hesitated, but nodded. "If yer sure."
Kiryu shook his head, "No, not entirely. But... I want to try, for her. If I don't like it, if it hurts... it can all come off. Easy..."
It felt like a lie - like if it hurt even a little bit, the pain would swallow him whole - but Majima seemed to be satisfied with that.
"Alright. C'mon, then."
Kiryu followed him to his little dressing room, trying to keep his nerves calm.
"How d'ya feel 'bout stuffin' a bra?"
He shook his head, "I think I'd rather not. Unless it needs the support, I guess..."
"The one ya had yer eyes on yesterday? Nah, don't need it, just thought I'd ask. Let's see what we're workin' with here."
Kiryu nodded, stripping himself down as Majima seemed to flit about the room.
"Hey, any preference for hair colour, Kiryu-chan?"
"...I guess I could try brown. Maybe that'd feel less... painfully familiar."
"Gotcha."
When he finally got a good look at Kiryu, he whistled lowly. "Damn..."
"Nii-san-"
"What? Ya got the fuckin' goods, Kiryu-chan!"
Kiryu groaned as Majima laughed, "Can't a guy speak the truth?"
He mustered up a fake cough into the crook of his elbow, hiding his flustering face. Quietly, he answered, "I- I appreciate it."
"C'mon, step one," Majima grinned, holding out the dress for Kiryu. Taking a deep breath, he nodded, pulling the dress over himself. He stretched out an arm to examine it - the delicate puff contrasted against his half-sleeve flower garden and the hair growing around it like grass...
So familiar, so nostalgic, yet so different. He swished his hips to watch the skirt flutter, chuckling at how surprisingly nice it felt. Delicate, but not in the way that he felt he was about to shatter under the pressure, too dainty for anyone to even look at. He'd grown so much in every regard since then - and he still was, evidently.
Majima chuckled, "Not feelin' too bad, there?"
"No, not at all..."
"Wanna see so far?"
He thought about it, but... that might break the illusion, awakening his shame. No, it'd be better to wait...
"I'll wait. Want to see it all together."
Nodding, Majima sat him at the vanity, turned away from the mirror. First came the wig cap, tucking Kiryu's hair underneath and pinning the cap in place - it was a funny feeling. Next, he held up two brown wigs - one short, styled in a straight bob, the other long and wavy.
"Take yer pick, Kiryu-chan."
He hummed in thought. Even as a kid, he'd always wanted his hair short - getting in trouble on more than one occasion for charging into the bathroom and chopping it down himself, being reprimanded and hit for making himself look so un-girlish. When he wasn't allowed with the scissors anymore, he pulled and chewed it, stuck gum in it - anything to give the adults a reason to sit him down and begrudgingly cut it. Only when he had come out was his need for haircuts considered somewhat acceptable - and since then, he'd kept it short on his own accord.
...That being the case, maybe a change was in order, just for tonight. This was about her, not just him - and there were times he'd missed having it long, in a strange way, wishing he had locks long enough to play with.
"The long one."
Majima set the short wig aside with a smile, gently guiding Kiryu's head into position and pulling the wig over it, adjusting the hairline. He made a little disappointed noise as the fit wasn't quite right, leaning over Kiryu to reach for the tabs.
"Just a sec... ah, there!"
He tightened it slightly, nodding in approval as he stepped back.
"...Shit, can I say somethin'? Just... don't wanna upset ya."
"Go ahead."
"Yer... real pretty. I- I mean, to be honest, yer always hot, but uh- fuck, what'm I sayin'..."
Kiryu chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "Thank you, nii-san."
Majima seemed to flounder for a moment, stammering, "A-anyways, uhh... Hair accessories?"
"Let's see what you've got."
He hurried himself to pull a box from the closet, opening it and displaying its contents to Kiryu.
"S-so uh," he cleared his throat, "Ribbons 'n bows... lotta clips, uh."
Even moreso than the clothes, many of these accessories were shades of hot pink - wouldn't fit his image right now at all. A few stood out, though - a clip adorned with white flowers, a sparkly little tiara... gingerly, he picked out those two, a wistful smile on his face.
"Couldn't hurt to play princess again."
Majima blinked, then laughed at his own moment of shock. "S-sorry, not laughin' at ya. Just myself."
Kiryu just smirked at him, carefully clipping the flowers into locks at the front, then nestling the tiara in place. Now setting the box aside, Majima braided and tied off a few strands over the arms of the tiara to keep it steady.
"What about jewellery?" Kiryu asked. Soon enough, Majima was displaying yet another impressive collection, offering his suggestions of what might match. His picks were relatively simple - a necklace with a small gem flower, and a pearly little bracelet.
Majima seemed to be in awe, "Makeup, then? Thinkin' somethin' light, anyway."
Kiryu nodded, and he set off to work. It was kind of funny, thinking about it - Majima knew so much more about it than he did. It wasn't something he'd had any interest in trying, nor really the chance. Didn't particularly like it, anyways - not the way the women around him wore it, like they had some dark secret to hide. He supposed that was the power of marketing, or something.
This way and that, he followed Majima's instructions, doing up his cheeks and his lips in what seemed to be shades of pink. He wondered if there was any other colour Goromi liked.
Finally, when Majima seemed satisfied, he smiled.
"Ya ready to see it all?"
Kiryu steeled himself, suddenly feeling an uneasy race in his heart.
If I don't like it, it can come right off. If I don't like it, it can come right off. If I don't like it-
"Yes," he nodded, "...Not really, but yes."
Closing his eyes, Kiryu turned himself around, saving his first look. Majima reassuringly rested his hands on Kiryu's shoulders. "If ya hate it..."
"I can take it off. I know."
He let out a slightly shaky breath, then opened his eyes.
The girl in the mirror was everything like her, and at the same time, nothing like her. She'd never painted her lips pink, never blushed glitter under the light. She'd never had brown hair, or a goatee. She'd never had flowery tattoos to frame with her bracelets, never sparkled so beautifully.
She never smiled like this, either, the way that she was now. The things that had once felt like a prison... suddenly felt so different and freeing, just by having the choice, the knowledge that she was who he was. That it could all come off and no one would be any the wiser, like she was just any other man putting on a show.
She shook her head, laughing at herself.
"I was so afraid... But look, Kazumi. Here you are, finally."
Kazumi. It had never been her name before - that name had stopped mattering a long time ago - but as obvious of a choice as it was, it brought her joy to say nonetheless, the masculine and the feminine intertwined.
"Kazumi, huh?"
"I mean... why not? A... a pretty girl deserves a pretty name."
Majima paused, then snickered. "That she does, Kazumi-chan."
She admired her reflection some more, when Majima flashed a devious grin.
"Kazumi-hime."
He cackled as she tinged a little more pink, objecting and feigning that no, she didn't secretly like it. Even so, it didn't take long for her to relent, clicking her tongue with embarrassment.
"Fine, maybe a little..."
He whooped triumphantly, and she rolled her eyes. "Only for now. If you call me princess any other time-"
"Yer kickin' my ass, and not in the fun way, I getcha."
"Good," she smiled, "So... got anything to teach me?"
"Do I fuckin' ever!"