Mirror Image

Chapter 11

As the morning sun filtered through the curtains, John stirred awake, stretching lazily before sitting up on the edge of the bed. His movements carried an uncharacteristic grace, almost as if rehearsed. He reached for a brush, humming softly—a melodic "hmm hmm"—as he gently brushed his hair. The routine felt natural, seamless, as though it had always been a part of him.

Once finished, he padded to the bathroom, washed his face, and began applying creams from Emma's collection. With deft familiarity, he selected each product, knowing exactly where to apply it and for what purpose. His hands moved with precision, spreading the creams across his face and neck, his actions mirroring Emma's daily rituals.

When John finally entered the kitchen, Emma glanced up from her task of preparing breakfast. Her brow furrowed slightly as she noticed his attire—a purple satin pajama set that shimmered faintly in the morning light.

"John, why are you wearing that?" she asked, her tone caught between confusion and mild exasperation.

He looked at her nonchalantly, his voice still distinctly male but carrying a melodic lilt. "Well, we got this yesterday for me to wear, didn't we?"

Emma paused, her lips forming a small "oh" of surprise. "Well, yes, you're right, but..." She hesitated before shaking her head. "Never mind. Wear what you want."

As they ate breakfast, Emma couldn't help but study him. John's small, deliberate bites and the way he sipped his tea with elegance were disarming. He crossed his legs at the knee, his foot swaying playfully as if it were second nature.

After they finished, John picked up his phone and began scrolling through an article. Emma glanced at him, wondering if he had texted Jessica that morning as she had. Unbeknownst to her, he had checked in on Jessica earlier but hadn't mentioned it.

Once his reading was done, John rose, brushed his teeth, applied yet another cream, and then went to play VR. Emma frowned slightly as she watched him. This VR game has made him so lazy, she thought, and whatever benefits it had are negligible. But she knew she couldn't tell him to stop—it wasn't her place to act like his mother or girlfriend.

John slipped on the VR headset and found himself in his virtual dorm room, still adjusting to the immersive world. A familiar prompt flashed before his eyes:

Please choose a permanent username.

He had dismissed the notification many times before, but today he lingered. His thoughts wandered, recalling Emma's earlier remark about his pajama. Almost absentmindedly, he typed "Emma" into the text box.

The system chimed, confirming the selection: Username "Emma" has been set.

John—or rather, "Emma"—didn't fully understand why the name felt right, but it seemed to suit this world. With renewed confidence, "Emma" got ready for her day. She brushed her teeth, applied makeup, and smoothed creams over her face and legs with an almost practiced femininity. Crossing her legs gracefully, she hummed melodically while perfecting her routine.

Next came the outfit: a pleated skirt, stockings, and a pair of 3-inch Louboutin-style pumps. Her nails were painted a glossy red that caught the light with every movement. As she admired her reflection in the mirror, she marveled at the transformation—the poise, the grace, the elegance that radiated from her avatar. Even her voice had softened further, carrying a natural melody that was unmistakably womanly.

When she stepped out onto the virtual campus, her heels clicked rhythmically against the pavement, announcing her arrival. Her avatar moved with perfect grace—her hips swayed effortlessly, her chest filled the cups of her blouse, and her feminine form drew admiring glances from passersby. Her walk was confident, her shoulders rolling slightly, softening her natural frame, and her strides grew more measured, with her arms swaying lightly at her sides. The outfit and her demeanor screamed femininity, and in that virtual world, she was every bit the elegant woman she appeared to be.