Seaweed

You don’t have much time. The panic is on and the seaweed solution is trending fast. You grab your wallet and find the closest possible seafood market from your campus. Throngs of people are there, buying seaweed and other items they think will keep them from being changed in the growing masse of Japanese girls.

The employees are all wearing masks and protective clothing, but to you they look like normal American men whether they’re white, black, or otherwise. They try to keep the customers calm and somehow have no shortage of what everyone wants. You don’t look this gift in the mouth, and you buy a pack of dried seaweed you can eat after heating in water. You wait in line with the other barking customers until you finally pay. Without anymore thought you burst running back to campus.

You’re back in your dorm room right before sunset. Your roommate should be back but hasn’t been here since he left for breakfast this morning. Fearing the worse, you lock the door and immediately get to work reheating the nori. You get a bowl from your cupboard, pour the small packet of dried and curly seaweed in, and pour in water from your sink. As soon as it starts to float, you put it in the microwave.

You pace as two and a half minutes pass by, but as soon as the timer beeps, you open the microwave and grab the hot bowl. You don’t even grab a fork. You eat the hot but nutritious seaweed with your hands. It burns at first and it doesn’t have a strong taste, but eventually as the amount in the bowl gets smaller and smaller, you grow to like the hot nori as your body changes without any warning. Seaweed wasn’t a cure. It was a lie planted by dozens of influencers who either loved the idea of becoming Japanese girls or were bribed into spreading the misinformation in exchange for an easy life.

Your hair turns dark black as it grows out in perfectly straight streaks from your scalp to your middle back. Your face slowly changes as your jaw and cheekbones become feminine and distinctly Japanese in between bites, chewing and swallowing. Your eyes become narrower and your eyebrows pointed. You still haven’t noticed.

The changes travel down your body, erasing the hair on the back of your neck from existence along with your Adams apple. Hair disappears on your arms and armpits as your shoulders recede inward along with most your waist and torso. Your arms become smooth with a natural pink Japanese skin tone, until your fingers and nails become perfection slim, feminine, and manicured.

The changes travel back to your slim, feminine, and hairless torso as your pecks lose their muscle mass, and fat accumulates around your nipples instead. After a few minutes, you’re sporting free bouncing C cup breasts. The changes keep flowing downward along your body until they reach your waist. You can slightly feel more fat accumulating on your rear as your hips expand outward. Once those changes are done you feel a pleasant heat inside you as your erect penis retracts inward with your testicles, until both form a perfect and fertile womanhood.

But the changes still aren’t over. It keeps traveling downward, vaporizing your body hair and changing your skin tone. Your legs also become smooth and feminine until eventually your feet shrink from the final physical changes, and your toenails become clean and manicured as well.

The physical changes are finally over, and so the formula makes a full circle back into your mind, erasing the great majority if your memories from existence. You remember your name, Sachi Konai, your five sisters in Hawaii, and your girlfriend who is quite fortunately, your roommate. All of your friends become feminine Japanese versions of themselves. You completely forget English as a whole language, but you do remember more Hawaiian than before. You grow tired, and with the almost empty nori bowl still in front of you on your work desk, you fall into a heavy sleep.

You wake up the next morning with no pants or underwear on. Only a lose university t-shirt you were wearing before you changed. But you don’t remember that. You’ve always been Sachi. The first sound you hear is the locked door being opened. The next thing you hear is a delightful “Ohayō gozaimasu!” from your girlfriend Nyoko Samurakami.

You see her beautiful face and curly purple hair as she leans over and kisses you. Your drowsy, so all you can say is “Ohayō” as she tells you classes are basically canceled, but that she has good news and got the new school uniforms for you.

She’s already wearing a white button blouse that very well accentuated her C cups as well, plus a pink bow around her neck and an short, vibrant red skirt that only went half down to her knees. She places yours, and your new bra and panties on the desk in front of you, teasing you for leaving your food out from last night. You sheepishly agree as she kisses you again and sits on your lap. Already the two of you are escalating your relationship rapidly.