The Mizuho wish: Part one.

Disclaimer: I do not own Mizuho Kazami from Please Teacher. I wouldn’t mind doing her though...even though Kei X Mizuho is my favourite pairing in anime.

“Are you watching that anime stuff again, Harry?” a blond man complained from the doorway of his roommates bedroom.

“It’s none of your business,” sighed his coffee-haired roommate who was watching a cartoon on the television.

“But aren’t you getting a little old for that?”

“You can’t change who I am, Jon.” replied Harry, sticking out his tongue.

“Gee,” Jon remarked, “no wonder you can’t keep a girlfriend.”

“Shut up, Jon I just haven’t found the one.”

“Fine, have it your way.” Jon resigned and shuffled away.

It was another ordinary night for these two. Jon would tease about Harry’s immaturity; Harry would retaliate with said immaturity; a pointless quibble would follow and then both would give up and retreat. Yet, despite their quibbles, these two were actually friends from high school. In the time they’d known each other, Harry had delved into the otaku culture whilst Jon thought the whole anime phenomenon was a little strange, if not childish. However, he stuck by his mate anyway as they did share other interests and had many good times at college. However Jon was now starting to be concerned with Harry’s life. He thought by now that Harry would’ve grown out of his otaku phase, but that seemed unlikely. As Harry was the more reserved, he wondered if it was affecting his social life and whether this obsession would end up in some mid-life crisis by 30. However Harry didn’t appear to mind the life he led, so he was left alone.

Harry however wasn’t all that happy. He knew Jon was right. As a twenty five year old librarian, he admitted that he was unlucky in love. He knew he had some nice qualities but every girl he’d been with just didn’t seem to be compatible with his laid back otaku attitude. Watching his program of ‘Please Teacher’, he mournfully groaned as he saw the beauty that was Mizuho Kazami. He lamented how much of a lucky bastard Kei Kusanagi was for having a hot alien woman as his wife, especially considering how kind and homely she appeared. There was no way Harry could get anything like her in real life.

Casting his attention on the night sky outside his window and depression in his heart, he uttered a little wish.

“I wish to have a girlfriend like Mizuho Kazami.”

He then went to bed, knowing nothing of the sort would happen...or would it?

*
Somewhere in the universe, an unknown force heard the wish of desperation and kindly offered to help. Out of nowhere, a box of Pocky was conjured onto the drawer of a certain victim. Upon consumption, the box would help trigger a chain of events that would allow the wish to be granted. But the most unusual aspect of this event was the victim that the force had chosen...

...Unlikely in the fact that he was a man.

*
The next morning, Jon was in his bed, making only slight whispered breaths as his mind was away on snack break in dream world. However he was about to be in for a rude shock.

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

Stopping the alarm with a mighty slam, Jon groggily rose out of bed. In the faint darkness he gave a yawn, knowing full well that another work day as a substitute teacher was ahead. It was all he did since joining the school; being payed for the work that someone was too sick or occupied to do. On the optimistic side though, at least today wasn’t too packed with only one lesson scheduled. Turning on the lamp he noticed a small, unopened red box.

“Pock...ee?” he read the title. He then recognized the box as a type of snack that Harry would usually eat. Though how they even reached his drawer was anyone’s guess. “Hmmphh,” he grumbled, “I’ve told him time and time again to clean up after himself.” Observing the box he couldn’t help but feel allured to open it, like a voice was telling him that it was of the utmost importance.

“Please open.” A sweet whisper graced his tired ears.”This is a priority one.”

Thinking he was hearing things, Jon decided that the chocolate frosting from the sticks would give him a much needed sugar rush. Tediously he opened the cardboard box and the silvery packaging inside revealing the chocolate coated sticks. Devouring a couple, he couldn’t help but feel that someone had whispered gratitude into his being as a warm tingle engulfed him. Shrugging this sensation he moved off his bed and yawned his way to the bathroom, oblivious to the chemical reaction the snack had somehow triggered.

Upon observing himself in the mirror, he was puzzled to find that his stubble hadn’t grown a millimetre since eight hours before. If anything, there didn’t seem to be signs of hair no matter how he touched his jaw line. “Hmmph, saves time shaving,” he dismissed this slight oddity before focusing on his shower. Hopping in while the water was still tepid, he failed to notice the patches of body hair that were being washed away. Nor did he see the bristles swirling down the plughole, as he hygienically lathered soap all over himself. Though seeing as he was preoccupied about his upcoming day, it was only fair that he would fail to notice such small details.

Feeling refreshed over his newly smoothened skin, Jon got dressed in his suit and tie without incident. He again looked at his cleanly shaven reflection and for some reason found himself juggling the thought of applying make-up, to which he immediately rid from his mind. Thinking that breakfast would snap him out of this strange mood he absently took the Pocky box with him, thinking there was nothing wrong with a snack.

After a quick meal of toast and coffee he bit on another stick, relieved to replenish his craving for something sweet. His sight went blurry for a second to which he blinked a few times before it returned. An itch on his scalp followed but it soon stopped as he scratched it, unaware that his eyes were now bigger pupils of indigo lined by fuller lashes and his hair had just grown past his ears. He didn’t care though as he got ready to leave, making sure he checked on Harry before he left. At the bedroom door, he observed his sleeping friend though the streak of light that failed to reveal the various anime paraphernalia that was littered throughout. Jon was suddenly overcome by a strange forlornness as he imagined how lonely his friend seemed.

“I’m just going now Harry-kun.” He gently whispered before closing the door, unconscious at what he just said.

*

'Hmm, my suit is a little loose.' Jon thought as he drove his sedan through the spatial traffic. Even though he had an early start he looked at his watch nervously, knowing there was still twenty minutes before the staff started its briefing. Upon seeing that the traffic was slowing down in front of him he sighed in frustration, absently scratching at his nipples which had suddenly become itchy when he left the house. He thought it was strange that they also felt a little puffier than usual.

“Boy, I must be out of shape.” He thought as the scratching relaxed him.

Worried that he could be late for the briefing, Jon nibbled on another stick between his slenderizing fingers, failing to notice the sudden growth of his fingernails. Mindlessly, he looked himself in the rear view mirror and saw his eyes. “Weren’t they green?” he blinked a few times, before coming to the conclusion that he must’ve been tired. He also took note that he might need a haircut, as his hair appeared a little long at the back. His concentration however was broken as fortune allowed an opening off the freeway, and he made it to the school car park with just minutes before the briefing. Taking the pocky with his suitcase he rushed off, ignoring the ‘thud’ sound of his car locking.

He arrived in time to the glowering stares and giggles of his superiors. He gave out a flustered apology and sat down to allow the meeting to commence. Over the discussion on the news and issues of the school week Jon quietly nibbled on some more Pocky, keeping his ear for anything important. He shivered a little, oblivious that the stick had just withered his shoulders and arms to gentler proportions.

After the briefing, one superior with a heavy moustache confronted him. “Jon,” the superior reminded him, “remember you’ve got Mary’s shift at ten...”

“Righto!” Jon remarked with fake cheer, finding his voice a little softer than usual. He coughed, trying to clear a lump that really wasn’t there as he collected his papers for the day. Another mention of his name interrupted him; the feminine quality of its voice prompting him to turn.

“Oh, good morning Hilary.” He smiled to the lady whose angelic face and wavy, auburn ponytail had left him smitten.

“How are you today?” She asked, trying to make small talk.

“Oh I’m Good, how about you.”

“Peachy.” She cheerfully replied, her face studying his. “Say, is there something different about you?”

“What? Oh yes, my hair. Well I’ve noticed it has been a little shaggy recently.” He informed her, rubbing his scalp in the process.

However, Hilary still looked at him like she was searching for the hidden image in a magic eye picture “No, that’s not it...”

“What is it then?”

Hilary’s look quickly switched from confusion to acceptance. “Oh don’t worry,” she nonchalantly smiled “It’s just me.” before changing the subject to coffee. Five minutes later and the two had planned a possible lunch break together to Jon’s joy. He’d been eying her for a few months but never got beyond any small talk. Now there was a chance that he could advance this relationship. He made a little whistle in his step as he got his paperwork ready.

Later that morning though, as he walked to his class for the day, he caught his reflection in a glass door. He couldn’t help but think there was something different about him. He could’ve sworn that his eyes were bluer and prettier than he remembered. His hair also appeared to be longer than usual, as strands had stopped half way down his neck. If he had a proper mirror, he would’ve also noticed that streaks of ginger brown were peaking through.

“I must be paranoid.” He shrugged, as he went to his lesson.

Once again, the ignorance of man had let magic off with nothing more than a parking ticket...but for how long?

*

Ten O’ clock came around and Jon arrived to the classroom full of uninterested teenagers. In his time teaching, he always saw the task of trying to educate them was a challenge, but so far had held his own. His plan for today as always was to be firm but fair. After going through the roll call, he announced, “Alright students, Mrs Harris isn’t here. But I know you have some work today, so please turn your books to page one-o-four.”

A few groans followed and Jon added as an afterthought “This is a priority one.”
He paused in confusion. Why would he say that? He thought it was an odd thing to say, yet it sounded natural to him. Accepting that, he continued on with the lesson (English, if you’re curious), giving some pointers to the students before sitting at his desk to sort out some paperwork. Again his appetite tempted him, prompting the teacher to pick out another piece of Pocky. As he momentarily held the stick in his mouth, his lips blushed a rich strawberry before puffing up on contact. Upon biting and swallowing, the rest of face followed in its change. His brow flattened against his skull, as his eyebrows refined themselves. Elsewhere, his jaw painlessly loosened into a smaller curved line, and his cheeks shifted to prominence. By the time his nose had scrunched up to a petite size in a split second, Jon had been blessed (or cursed) with the face of a beautiful female.

Finding the bite satisfying (after all, he’d laid off candy for ninety minutes.) he snuck in a second piece, just to be sure that his craving was satisfied. As he lay back in his chair though, he felt something odd. A brushing sensation now rested on his shoulders, which was simultaneously met with the increased weight on his head. Latching a hand at his hair he fell over, raising the attention of his pupils.

“Are you alright Miss?” called out one pubescent.

The teacher looked up to the class in surprise “Uhhhh,” he tried to search for words, before realizing what the student had just said. “Wha...what did you say?” he replied but his suddenly higher and androgynous voice fuelled his paranoia.

“Miss, are you alright?” repeated the student.

Miss

That confirmed it; something was wrong. Trying to remain calm (which was near impossible) he quickly told them to keep working (calling it “A priority one”) before dashing for the bathroom. Not wanting to raise even more attention however, he didn’t much run but power walked his way there. On instinct he reached the male toilets and was relieved to find that no one else was inside. One look in the mirror  confirmed what he feared. Looking at his face, it was now obvious that he could be mistaken for a woman. The fact that his shoulder length hair was now an orange red and down his sides didn’t help matters.

“What’s happening to me!” he could only whisper as he frantically examined himself. He soon confirmed that whilst the loss of some noticeable muscle did leave his clothes fitting loosely, he hadn’t lost much height and thankfully, his equipment was still there. However, despite still confirming himself as a man, he couldn’t shrug off the fact that he’d been referred to as ‘Miss’ and that his face matched the description of one.

“Calm down Jon,” He told himself, “this can’t be happening."

One pinch and a look at the mirror later confirmed otherwise.

“Oh shit it is happening!”

He continued to stare at his shocked reflection, until...

“Go back to class, everything will be alright.” A sweet voice instructed. Jon looked around but couldn’t find the source.

“I’m sorry this must happen,” it continued, “but for your sake, everyone must think you’re me until the process is complete.”

With a little confusion, he called back “What do you mean ‘process’? Who is this?”

“Check your wallet.”

He slowly fished out his wallet and looked at his drivers licence. What he found surprised him. Instead of his usual licence, was a picture of what he now resembled, with the following information on the side:

Mizuho Kazami.

Age: 23

Gender: Female.

Surely this was a mistake. But he dreadfully knew it couldn’t be. That was him in the photo and it still kept his licence and address details. But other than that it was like his old identity had been re-written.

“But how can this be happening?” he asked.

“I’ll explain later,” the calming voice chimed, “but for now I think you should return to class before the pupils start asking questions.”

“But...”

“Please do this,” she pleaded, “I promise everything will be alright. This is a priority one.”

Jon tried to answer back, but got no reply. He stood there for awhile before realizing he couldn’t just leave the students alone, or else who knows what trouble could’ve happened. Without even knowing what he was doing, Jon-or was that Mizuho- walked back to class. On the way he passed a couple of people, fearing what they’d think of his unfamiliar face. However, all they did was walk past him like nothing had happened, with one even giving a friendly “How’s it going Mizzy!” to which he gave a little wave in reply.

Eventually, he arrived back to the classroom, where the students were squabbling. He was a little unnerved in meeting them in his current state, but remembering the voices advice he decided to trust it...for now. Entering the room again he saw his class, who were querying what had scared their teacher so. Insisting they should continue their work, ‘Mizuho’ returned to his desk. Even though he visibly had changed, Jon was amazed when it became clear that no one thought anything was unusual. One student even piped up with a cry of ‘Miss?’ without stalling. Of course, not wanting to make a scene of it, he decided to play along. He would have to worry about his scenario later.

*

The bell was a welcoming sigh of relief for Jon as the students left. Even though there was the risk of unexpected lessons later in the day, he just wasn’t up to face them. The phenomena of his changing body (that everyone was treating like normal) and the disembodied voice had him so concerned that he just wanted to go home until this mess blew over. Planning to dismiss himself, he quickly got his belongings and rushed out of the empty classroom. In his frantic pace, he nibbled on another Pocky stick to calm himself down. But then his balance suddenly became off kilter and despite his best efforts to stay up, he fell over.

He looked down on himself in time to sense his slightly loose clothing had now tightened but had left a draft around his ankles. Looking down he gasped to see his apparently bare ankles in high heels. “What the?” he croaked before a spasm erupted in his throat causing him to cough, each one emitting a breathier and sweeter sound than the last. When the coughing fit ended, Jon looked down to find that his clothes had shifted to his new body. His shirt- or was that blouse- had gained a green tint. His pants were a little shorter, flaring out above the ankle, which despite the naked appearance were actually in pantyhose.

“Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!” he covered his mouth, as a high pitched squeal drew out. Of course, being in high heels followed by the tingling sensation from his nipples didn’t help matters. In a panic, Jon cupped his chest while a soft, sensitive lump pushed its way underneath, the touch itself sending an electric pulse through his system. With dread he now knew that he’d developed small breasts. On the verge of hyperventilation he inspected himself once more, almost gasping when he felt how small his genitals had become.

It was then that things became worse.

“Oh, Miss Kazami!” replied a male voice. “Are you alright?”

Frozen, ‘Mizuho’ turned his head to find a red haired man rushing up to him. Trying to hold back tears, he could only muster “Uh, uh... Yes, I just...fell.” He winced, noticing how high his voice had become.

The man, who he knew as Jeff, came to his aid. “Here, I help you up.” He offered. Jon wanted to resist the offer, but couldn’t help but blush at Jeff’s chivalry. “Uh, sure, that would be nice.” He squeaked as he was raised back onto his feet.

“Ups a daisy!” Jeff grunted, as Jon adjusted to his new heels. He couldn’t help but whisper a small “Thank you”.

“Not your day is it?” he remarked, picking up a purse that Jon didn’t remember having, “Considering how you nearly ran in late today.”

“Yeah, clumsy me!” Jon tried to mock laughter despite the anguish he was feeling. His thought however was sidetracked when he looked into Jeff’s eyes. A feeling of appreciation flowed through him as he thought how kind this man was, reminding him of Harry and how much he admired him...

Snapping out of his stupor, Jon grabbed his belongings “I have to go now.”

“Really, but you don’t have anything else for a while.”

“Something came up.”

“Well maybe we could...”

“NO!” she objected loudly, startling Jeff. “Sorry,” she clarified, “I know you’re a nice man, but I already have someone else.”

And with that he left Jeff standing there.

“Strange.” Jeff commented “I wonder what’s wrong with her?”

*

In his car, Jon wept. He considered going back to the school bathroom, but thought that in his current gender confusion, wasn’t a good idea. Plus, since it was morning tea the staff room would be too public a place to cry. He couldn’t believe what had just transpired. He was a man this morning but for some reason he was becoming more feminine and to top things off, he might be turning gay!

Wiping his eyes, he contemplated his scenario. “Calm down Jon” he told himself “you are having a weird day today. Think about what’s causing this.” He tried to think, but again the need for comfort food was too strong and he again picked out some Pocky. But whilst the chocolate frosted biscuit did make him feel better, it had also started another transformation. Again his hair grew, darkening towards red as it swept down his shoulder blades and halfway down his back. His flared pants started to creep up, showing more and more leg, which sculpted itself simultaneously into a steam-lined shape. When the pants stopped above his knee, the material warped together into one shape and became a skirt. Hiding underneath, his already slender thighs gained a little fat to gain a subtle curve.

It was only when he looked down moments later that Jon learnt what had happened. “Not again!” he wailed, bewildered at his new legs and the red locks that fell down his face before looking at the Pocky box. After some reflection, he realized that every change he knew so far had happened after he’d eaten Pocky. Finally aware he studied the box but found no clues, with the only warning being ‘may contain traces of nuts.’ In a huff, he tried to throw the box away, but he just couldn’t let go. He thought on how he liked to eat this snack and thought how Harry looked cute doing it...

“Why am I thinking this?” he assured herself “I don’t love Harry. He’s just my roommate...”

“But he wished this to happen,” chimed a voice in his head.

“What? Who’s there? This is a priority one.” Jon ordered.

“Please don’t fret,” the voice said in a motherly fashion, “for everything will be okay.”

“Okay? Look at me!” he cried, realizing how similar his voice was to hers. “Are you saying Harry-chan has something to do with this?”

“I’m sorry, but yes,” said the voice.

“What? How?” Mizuho demanded.

“I promise all will be explained and everything will become normal again, but for now just wait a bit longer.”

“Why can’t you just tell me now?” he asked, but there was no response. Giving up, he looked at the Pocky box. He knew that it was changing him, but he just couldn’t part with it. He thought about the voice. He knew it was silly trusting it but somehow he found it trusting, homely...

“Hey there Mizuho!” interrupted another voice.

“Kyah!” squealed Mizuho to see Hilary outside.

“Is there anything wrong,” Hilary asked with concern, “I was on yard duty and found you in the car.”

“OH THAT!” Mizuho blushed, “Oh I’m sorry, but something came up.”

“What happened?” Hilary asked, “It’s not about your boyfriend Harry is it?”

“No, it’s...” she stopped. Her eyes widened. “Harry?”

“Oh, did you two break up or...”

But Jon was not listening, as he contemplated the situation. ‘Me? Harry’s boyfriend?’ he thought, ’Sure, he’s cute but... AGH! I’m doing it again! I AM A MAN DAMMIT! I like women!’

“Mizuho?” Hilary asked. Mizuho/Jon looked into her eyes. Usually when he looked at her, he would feel an admiration for her, yet now he didn’t feel any desire to love her as a partner. He tried to think of the pictures of hot girls he used to have as a teenager, but despite his best efforts there was no reaction ‘downstairs’. He tried to think harder, but his mind soon drifted towards men and how terrifyingly handsome they looked.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go.” he hurriedly said starting his car, leaving the car park in seconds.