Only for a few hours...Right?

Part 6: The Red PE Uniform, New Boys, and Older Secrets

Two Days Later – Adjustments:

Three days had passed since Arun had officially joined school and become Pavithra in every legal and visible way. Every morning now began with a quiet dread and a delicate ritual - oiling his hair, parting it down the middle, weaving it tightly into two long braids with black ribbons, and pinning in that small blue plastic stud into his left ear.

He wore Pavithra’s school uniform - the deep blue kurti with black piping that clung to his soft form, the matching salwar pants that rustled with every careful step, and the school-issued black shoes that pinched his toes. The tight cotton bra underneath was always present, hugging his chest that seemed to look fuller each passing day.

He had started applying Pond’s powder automatically, dusting his neck and cheeks with a practiced hand, as if muscle memory had rewired itself. In the evenings, he'd tie back his hair into a loose bun and slip into Pavithra’s old sleepwear usually a worn pink nighty with little cartoon rabbits on the hem or a loose lavender one with faded lace on the neckline. At first, it had felt like an emergency solution. Now, it was habitual.

One night, Pavithra had entered the room while he was adjusting the side slit of the nighty and quipped, “Romantic print da… suits you.” He didn’t respond. He only turned away, cheeks hot.

Morning Ride – Alone and Embarrassed:

On the third morning, Arun cycled alone. The cycle seat pressed tightly against his salwar, and the drawstring pinched just above his soft hipbones. Every bump on the road made his chest bounce slightly in the bra, especially on downhill slopes. The bra hook at his back itched where sweat collected.

As he passed the tea shop near the temple arch, a group of men stared. One of them whispered something to the others.

“Some school girls don’t even use dupatta these days…”
“Kaalam keduthudhu…”

He kept pedaling, face burning.

At school, a group of 9th standard juniors near the entrance waved.
“Akka! Good morning!” one chirped.

He gave a faint smile, curling a strand of hair behind his ear.

Girl Gossip and Bonds:

In class, the routine had shifted. He sat beside Swathi and Shalini, who treated him like a trusted confidante. They whispered about boys, makeup, and menstrual cramps.

“Hey, Pavithra, do you shave your arms?” Shalini asked suddenly.
Arun blinked. “No… I mean… not really.”

“Still so smooth,” Harini muttered, touching his forearm. “Unfair!”

He laughed nervously, trying not to flinch.

During a free period, Harini pulled him aside. “You have to teach me to fold my dupatta like yours. Yours stays perfect even when you run.”

Arun had no idea what she was talking about - he wasn’t even wearing one - but he nodded.

The PE Uniform Trial:

After lunch, the announcement came:
“All girls of XI and XII, report to the auditorium for PE uniform issue.”

The girls buzzed with excitement. Swathi whispered, “Heard it’s that new dry-fit stuff.”

Each girl received a kit. Arun opened his slowly. Inside was a bright red, figure-hugging T-shirt with thick black edges, and sleek black leggings - snug, almost revealing.

“This is too… tight,” he murmured.

“Sexy, da!” Swathi teased. “We’ll all look like athletes now!”

Inside the changing stalls, girls giggled and changed. Arun slipped into the T-shirt first. The soft fabric clung to his chest, highlighting the curve of his bust beneath the snug bra. The leggings took effort - they clung to his thighs, butt, and calves like a second skin. His underwear lines were faintly visible through the stretch.

He turned sideways to the mirror and blanched. He didn’t look like himself. He looked like a fit, curvy teenage girl in sportswear.

Bra Trouble - Intimate Swap:

Swathi knocked on his stall. “Da! My bra is killing me! Feels like it shrank.”

She stepped inside without hesitation, clutching her chest. “I saw yours, it's softer. Can we swap?”

Before he could reply, she lifted her T-shirt and unclasped hers under it, turning away. Arun did the same, fumbling nervously. They exchanged bras and adjusted under their red T-shirts.

Swathi sighed. “Yours fits like a dream. Your back’s so narrow. And your cups… they fill perfectly. Lucky you.”

Arun didn’t know what to say. The bra was warm from her body, slightly perfumed. His own felt even tighter on her frame.

“You’re blushing, Miss Pavithra,” Swathi grinned. “Don’t worry, girlfriends do this all the time.”

Arun looked down. “Yeah…”

The Field and Arjun:

Outside, under the sun, they jogged. The leggings rode up at his hips. Sweat formed beneath his bra, dripping down his ribcage.

At the fence, a boy leaned casually. Tall, dusky, lean arms crossed.

When Arun passed, the boy smirked.
“I’m Arjun.”

Arun blinked. “I...Pavithra…”

“I know,” he said, eyes scanning Arun’s red-clad figure, “Looks like the uniform was made for you.”

Then he walked away.

Arun stared after him, heart oddly thudding.

Bakery and Boyfriend:

That evening, Swathi pulled Arun’s hand. “Come with me. Naveen's waiting!”

At the corner bakery, Naveen leaned on his scooty, holding a chilled Bovonto. He grinned when he saw them.

“Is this the famous Pavithra?” he asked, handing the drink to Arun. “Swathi never shuts up about you.”

Arun blushed. “Hi…”

“You look delicate,” he said. “Bet you top the class, no?”

Swathi wrapped her arms around Naveen. “She keeps me sane. Honestly, if Pavithra hadn’t helped me hide my love letter, I would’ve been caught.”

Arun laughed nervously, sipping the drink. Naveen and Swathi whispered and teased each other. Arun looked away.

Across the road, Arjun stood near a phone booth. He caught Arun’s eye again. No words - just an intense gaze.

Swathi noticed. “That’s the boy I told you about! He’s got a crush on someone in our school, but never says who.”

Arun felt his stomach drop.

Pavithra’s New Work Life:

That same evening, Pavithra entered a carpentry shed on the main road.

“You?” the man asked.

She nodded. “I can handle tools.”

He eyed her short hair, plain clothes, no earrings. “Start tomorrow. We don’t pay much.”

“I just need to keep busy.”

He handed her a dull saw. “Trim the edges of that board.”

She gripped it firmly, nodding.

By late evening, her palms were coated with sawdust.

She smiled. “Feels good.”

Home Again:

That night, Arun sat brushing his long braids in front of the mirror, legs folded, wearing Pavithra’s lilac nighty with tiny embroidered flowers.

His skin still smelled of Swathi’s bra. His hips ached from the leggings. His fingers lingered on his collarbone, just below the tiny gold chain.

On the table, his school ID gleamed. The image stared back: soft cheeks, shy smile, the name ‘Pavithra S.’

A tap came at the door.

Pavithra entered, covered in wood shavings.

“You look exhausted,” she said.

Arun didn’t reply.

She dropped beside him, sighing. “I think we’re becoming experts in each other’s lives.”

He nodded.

Their lives, identities, even underwear - exchanged, worn, adjusted.

No longer masks.

Now, just… real.

Part 7: Bathing in Silence, Drowning in Reality

A Week That Sealed Everything:

Seven days had passed since Arun first started cycling into Pavithra’s blue uniform. Seven days of subtle but constant erasure. He still scanned newspapers for legal loopholes in the evenings and fiddled with the government portals on Pavithra’s old mobile, but nothing worked. Every new search result only cemented the reality: his identity was now hers. His face was permanently affixed to documents as Pavithra Subramanian.

The days blurred into each other. Arun had started doing more chores at home - cooking, folding clothes, and even carefully ironing his school uniforms. The act of folding his own bra, panties, and salwars after drying them felt humiliatingly normal now. The smell of rose detergent and Pavithra’s sandalwood talcum clung to his fingertips.

Every evening he brushed his hair and tied it into those same two perfect braids. Even when he didn’t look in the mirror, he could feel the long plaits tickle his shoulders. A gold-plated comb and a plastic bangle set now sat beside his school books.

A Girls-Only World:

In school, his days had become quieter but heavier. The classrooms always buzzed with chatter - about menstrual cycles, beauty hacks, or which boys from the boys’ school were cute. Arun sat among them like a misplaced petal, listening, nodding, and slowly blending in.

In extra class, they had to learn about female reproductive anatomy. Arun’s face burned as the teacher discussed uterine linings and breast development.

Swathi noticed. “Don’t be shy, Pavithra. We’re all the same here.”

The words cut deeper than she intended. No, they weren’t the same. But the classroom didn’t know that. Not anymore.

A Feminine Digital Life:

On the third day of the week, Arun received a new budget smartphone from the school’s government program.

"Free for girl students under biometric scholarship scheme," the principal had explained.

The phone booted up to a bright pink wallpaper with the school’s logo. Arun hesitated but logged in. He created a feminine profile photo, took a soft, tilted selfie in uniform, and entered the name: Pavithra S.

Friend requests poured in. Swathi tagged him in group chats. "Pavi darling joined finally!"

He typed replies slowly, checking each emoji twice before sending it. He didn’t know what kind of girl he was supposed to be.

Holiday Plans and the Agricultural Well:

On Saturday morning, Swathi caught him at the cycle stand.

"Come home da, it’s a girls’ day. We’ll go to the fields and bath in the well. Bring your red PE dress. No escape."

Arun tried to say no, but she looped her hand through his and dragged him to her group.

By afternoon, he found himself walking in salwar and slippers through narrow dirt paths, clutching a small cloth bag with a towel and his underthings. The sun was hot, and the wind was dry. The group of girls giggled and teased each other, playing loud Tamil songs from a Bluetooth speaker.

The agricultural well was circular, old, and fed by a hand pump nearby.

“Pavi, you go behind that tree and change. Wear your panties and blouse only. No dress needed!” Swathi shouted, already untying her salwar drawstring.

Arun hesitated, clutching his towel like a shield. Swathi and Latha were already down to their bras and panties - plain white cotton, slightly damp from sweat - and they jumped into the cool well water with squeals.

The others followed.

Arun slowly slipped off the red PE shirt, then the black leggings. His bra was pale blue, slightly tight. His panties were soft pink with tiny bows stitched near the waistband.

“Da, faster!”

He closed his eyes and stepped in.

The water was shockingly cold. It clung to his curves, soaking his underthings instantly. His soft skin glowed under the sun as water droplets ran down his waist and back.

“Your bra's so cute!” Latha said, laughing. “Very soft girl da.”

Swathi splashed him. Arun flinched, trying to cover his chest.

Suddenly, his bra strap slipped off one shoulder.

Latha screamed playfully. “Oops! Pavithra-vaa, careful, you're doing a water show!”

He scrambled to pull it back.

The girls laughed harder. “Relax, we’ve all seen worse,” Swathi said, and they surrounded him, splashing water and shampooing their hair with herbal powder.

Swathi rubbed his shoulder gently, “You’re the prettiest one here. No shame.”

Those words ached more than comforted.

Pavithra’s Growth:

Back in town, Pavithra had already earned small respect at the carpentry shop. She learned to sand wooden boards, carry panels, and make basic tool measurements.

She kept her hair short, wore loose shirts tucked into rough pants, and spoke firmly with workers.

The foreman gave her a longer saw on Friday. “You work better than my nephews.”

She smiled, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Enakku pidikkum. I like it.”

Later, she took Arun’s old wallet -now hers -and bought herself a plain checked lungi and razor blades.

The Evening Mirror:

Arun returned from Swathi’s house soaked, tired, and humiliated. Wore clothes and head towel had slipped once during the walk back, revealing his damp hair. A man on the road had stared for a long second.

At home, he dried his hair with Pavithra’s towel. He wore her nighty again - a violet cotton piece with puffed sleeves. He didn’t bother locking the door.

He sat in front of the mirror and looked.

Long hair, shampooed and tied into wet braids. Small gold chain catching the dim light. Fair cheeks, tired lips. Pink phone lying beside his ID card with Pavithra on it.

He didn’t cry. But he didn’t smile either.

He traced the neckline of the nighty with his fingers and whispered to himself:

“kadavule.”

But even he didn’t believe it.

Part 8: A Month of Small Traps

A Month Later - Girlhood as Routine:

The morning sunlight streamed through the floral pink curtains, the same ones Pavithra had hung up a month ago. Arun woke up in her room now, in her bed, under her ceiling fan. The cotton nighty clung softly to his legs, slightly damp with early morning sweat from the humid Tamil Nadu weather. He sat up and stretched, the familiar weight of the small gold chain around his neck glinting in the mirror.

The jasmine oil Pavithra used was now his, and the light sandal soap scent had become a part of his skin. He took his time at the dressing table, combing through his long, oiled hair, then parting it neatly to braid into two tight plaits. His fingers worked automatically now, twisting the strands with practiced ease. The pink beaded scrunchies Swathi had given him bounced softly at the ends of his braids. He dotted a small bindi on his forehead, just between his freshly threaded eyebrows, and applied a thin layer of talcum to prevent sweat from staining his kurti.

The deep blue uniform fit snugly now. The kurti clung slightly to the soft curves formed by the padding of his bra. The school ID on a blue ribbon rested just above the gentle swell of his chest. A thin sheen of powder covered his neck and collarbones, hiding the slight stickiness. With school shoes polished, anklets jingling gently, and a small stud shining in each ear, he stepped outside, picked up the cycle, and began pedaling.

Arjun's Closeness:

That morning, like many before, Arjun was leaning casually against the school wall. "You ride so slowly, I thought I'd wait," he said with a smile.

Arun gave a soft laugh. "Lazy morning."

They began to walk side by side, pushing her cycle slowly. Arjun talked about his classes, a prank that backfired in chemistry lab. He noticed when Arun wore a different earring or tied his braid differently.

"You don’t talk like the other girls," he said once.

Arun said nothing.

That day, Arjun gave him a thin blue friendship band. "Here, for luck," he said, tying it around Arun’s wrist. He didn’t take it off for a week.

Class Tests:

When the class tests came, Arun buried himself in studies. Sitting cross-legged in a kurti, with anklets jingling as he moved, he reviewed physics formulas, memorized botany definitions, and even helped Swathi with Tamil poetry.

He topped every subject except one - Computer Science. Having come from a Biology stream previously, he was unfamiliar with programming. He scored only 24/50.

Miss Mythili shook her head. "Pavithra, brilliant work overall, but you must catch up in Computer."

He was awarded a pink-wrapped pen and a rose-printed certificate as the class topper. The girls clapped. He blushed, shifting awkwardly as his bra dug into his back slightly from the heat.

Swathi's Friendship:

Swathi had become a permanent fixture in his life. They shared notebooks, hairbands, perfumes. Once, she even insisted on Arun using her satin-smooth beige bra because it was "too loose" for her.

"You’re so lean, da. It’ll sit nicely on you. See? Perfect fit," she said, adjusting it over his shirt.

During lunch breaks, she rested her head on Arun's shoulder and called her "Pavi darling."

One afternoon, Swathi gifted her a cherry-gloss lip balm. "Your lips are always dry. Try this. Just a dab."

Arun hesitated, then applied it. It tasted like strawberries.

She often pulled him into the restroom between classes. "Let me redo your braid! Yours always comes loose!" Swathi would say, brushing through his sweaty hair with a small plastic comb.

The girls around them talked openly - about periods, bras, body odour, crushes, hair removal. Arun sat, nodding, pretending to belong. But sometimes his underarms itched from sweat beneath the padded bra. The cling of the cotton salwar against his thighs made him want to scream. But he smiled.

Pavithra Grows into Arun:

At home, Pavithra now legally Arun - returned each evening covered in sawdust. Her once-delicate arms had grown muscular. She wore faded jeans, half-sleeve shirts, and a black thread around her wrist.

Neighbors began calling her "Arun thambi."

One afternoon, Arun sat polishing his shoes, and Pavithra crouched beside him to fix the cycle brake.

"Tighten the wire from this angle," she said, flexing her biceps.

Arun looked away. Pavithra looked more like a brother now. He looked more like a sister.

New Neighbors:

A family moved into the house next door - a mother, father, and a cheerful 8th standard girl named Sangeetha.

"Akka! Can I borrow your history notebook?" she asked brightly.

Arun nodded hesitantly.

The mother handed him a kolam plate. "Pavithra ma, can you help us with Friday kolam?"

He did. Bent in half, saree-clad women passing by whispered approvingly. "The new girl is so traditional."

Hope Fading:

Each night, Arun opened his old phone and tried to access the Aadhaar portal.

"Gender: Female" "Name: Pavithra S" "Status: VERIFIED"

He tried to reapply. The system auto-rejected it.

"Your details conflict with active records. Contact local office."

He sighed. There was no local office. Not for him.

Even the new phone they bought for him had been registered as Pavithra. Swathi added him to her WhatsApp group with hearts and flowers next to his contact name.

Volleyball Team:

During one PE period, he was pulled into volleyball trials.

"You’re fit. You’re in," the PT teacher said.

He wore the red PE leggings again. The tight stretch fabric clung to him. Sweat ran down the inside of his thighs.

"Pavithra, your posture is so graceful!" girls giggled.

He was partnered with Swathi. They practiced serves, bumping the ball in rhythm.

"Don’t fall too hard, da. You might lose your chain," Swathi teased.

From across the fence, Arjun watched silently. Arun felt his gaze following every movement.

Inter-School Match Approaches:

The principal announced: "Interschool girls vs boys match in two weeks!"

Whispers filled the room. "We’ll play against Arjun's team!"

Swathi grabbed Arun’s arm. "You HAVE to spike well. He’s watching."

Arun blushed.

The team wore matching blue jerseys. Arun’s had "Pavithra S" printed on the back. He tried not to look at it. He had to wear a sports bra beneath it because the red uniform made his form too visible. He hated how snug it felt, how the elastic band pressed against his damp ribs.

Walk Home:

After a sweaty practice one evening, Arjun was waiting again.

"I’ll walk you. Chain still loose?"

Arun laughed nervously. "No... it’s okay now."

They walked together under the fading sky. Arun's braid stuck to the back of his neck from the heat.

"You’re not like other girls," Arjun said again. "That’s why I like talking to you."

At the gate, Arjun held the cycle for a moment longer.

"See you tomorrow, Pavithra."

He left. Arun watched him disappear down the road, unsure if his knees trembled from the heat or something heavier.

The chain around his neck swayed gently as he stood still in the soft dusk breeze.

Part 9: Diwali, Designs, and a Dilemma by the Pond

Three Months Later: A Different Life:

It had been three full months since Arun had first stepped into Pavithra’s kurti and salwar. What began as a short-term solution had now evolved into a daily rhythm so deeply etched that even his own reflection no longer startled him. The girl in the mirror - long braided hair, soft golden skin, bindi neatly placed, a gold stud twinkling on one ear - was no longer unfamiliar. The soft swish of pleated salwars between his thighs, the subtle weight of breasts held snug by the cotton bra he now wore comfortably, and the smell of Pond’s talcum powder that clung to his neck - these had become his new normal.

Arjun had become a constant presence outside school. He’d wait near the juice stall or by the temple steps, speaking to Arun in that calm, deep voice. It started with casual greetings, small jokes about teachers, and gossip about mutual acquaintances. He never pushed, never teased, but his eyes always lingered a little longer, his compliments always phrased just sweetly enough. It made Arun’s stomach flutter in a way that was both exciting and terrifying.

Meanwhile, Pavithra had settled fully into her job at the carpentry shop. She was now known for her strength, precision, and dedication. The work had made her arms stronger, her gait more confident. She wore loose jeans and tucked-in shirts now, her hair cropped short to beat the heat. Her coworkers even addressed her as "Arun anna" respectfully. At home, she no longer flinched being called “Arun.”

A Trending Design and Gold Anklets;

Arun, during a design assignment for class, had sketched a rangoli-inspired embroidery motif that unexpectedly went viral after a teacher shared it with a cousin in the textile board. The design was praised for its elegance and femininity. Soon, it was picked up by a local boutique. Orders poured in. The teacher presented him with a small certificate of appreciation. Arun, flushed with happiness and confusion, accepted it in front of the class wearing his violet kurti and matching hair clips.

A few days later, Pavithra returned home on a brand-new orange KTM bike. Arun stood at the doorway, stunned.

“I thought it’d make you happy,” Pavithra grinned, kicking the stand down. “Also… I got you something.”

From her small sling bag, she pulled out a delicate red box. Inside were a pair of pure gold anklets tiny ghungroos at the ends jingled lightly.

“No sliver, just these,” Pavithra teased with a wink.

Arun blushed hard. The gold felt cold and smooth against his fingers. He wore them that evening with hesitation, but the gentle ching ching followed him everywhere in the house. The sound haunted him.

Diwali Shopping: A Sibling Bond!

A week before Diwali, Pavithra called out, “Arun, get ready. Let’s go shopping, ma.”

Arun stepped out in a green churidar with small floral designs, a pale yellow overcoat tied neatly at the back, and a matching green ribbon in his braid. His small gold chain gleamed on his neck and a thin line of kajal lined his wide eyes.

Pavithra, wearing jeans and a grey shirt, offered him the helmet. “I’ll drive, little sister,” she said, teasing.

On the ride, Arun held on to Pavithra’s back tightly, the wind rushing through his dupatta-less kurti. His soft fingers brushed Pavithra’s waist once, and Pavithra chuckled. “Tight ah hold panra, ma.”

At the textile shop in town, the shopkeeper gave them a smile. “For your sister ah, sir?”

Pavithra nodded. “Yes, Diwali special.”

Arun was ushered to the women’s section. Swathi had insisted he get a fancy half saree. Arun picked a violet and pink silk half saree with a shimmering gold border. The blouse stitched was tight, hugging his chest and making him self-conscious. They also picked matching bangles, jhumkas, and a velvet bindi packet.

In the innerwear section, Pavithra elbowed him. “Go, pick a new bra and panty set too.”

Arun flushed crimson. He picked a pale pink set with lace borders, hoping no one noticed.

They ended the trip with a cone of ice cream each. “You’re really becoming Pavithra,” Pavithra whispered.

“I don’t want to,” Arun mumbled, licking his ice cream shyly.

Diwali Preparations: Dressed Like a Bride:

On Diwali morning, Arun bathed in turmeric water, scrubbed and soft. Pavithra helped him tie the half saree tightly, adjusting the pleats at the waist and pinning the pallu.

“You’re prettier than me, you know,” Pavithra said as she pinned jasmine flowers in his thick braid.

Arun adorned himself with Amma’s heavy gold mango mala, thick gold bangles that clinked with each step, and golden jhumkas that swayed with every movement. Mehendi still stained his palms, and he had even drawn a tiny design on his feet to match the anklets.

When he stepped out, Pavithra simply stood in stunned silence. “Kadavule… You look like you walked out of a movie.”

Temple Visit and Arjun’s Gaze:

Swathi and friends arrived, equally decked up. Together, they headed to the temple, Arun walking carefully in the heavy half saree, anklets chiming softly.

Inside, the scent of incense filled the air as they stood in line. Arun’s palms were pressed in prayer, gold bangles on his wrist glinting in the morning light.

When they stepped out, Arjun stood waiting outside in a white veshti and light blue shirt. His eyes locked onto Arun.

“You look... like a dream,” he whispered.

Arun couldn’t meet his gaze.

Crackers and Neighbourhood Laughter:

That evening, Arun lit crackers with the neighbor girl, Sangeetha. They wore half sarees and joked like sisters. Sangeetha even helped adjust his pallu when it kept slipping.

“You’re more beautiful than all of us,” Sangeetha laughed.

Arun smiled weakly.

The Pondside Proposal:

Late that night, Arjun messaged: “Come to the pond?”

Wearing a soft cotton skirt and top, anklets jingling, Arun cycled there slowly.

Arjun stood under a flowering tree, holding a diya.

“You’ve become my favorite part of every day,” he said.

He took Arun’s hand. “Pavithra… I know we’re young, but I like you. Very much.”

He knelt. “You don’t have to say yes. Just know I’ll wait.”

Then he kissed Arun’s cheek softly. Arun froze. The diya flickered in the wind. He had no words - just the sound of his own anklets and the confused flutter in his heart.

Part 10: Exams, Evolution, and Escapes into the City

[Disclaimer] From this point forward:

Pavithra refers to the boy who took on the girl’s identity. She/her pronouns apply.

Arun refers to the real Pavithra, now living as her cousin. He/him pronouns apply.

Three Months Later - Living as Pavithra, Hoping as Arun

Three full months had passed since Arjun’s quiet proposal at the scenic pond. Pavithra never gave him a direct reply but also, she never pushed him away. Their bond had grown deeper, warmer, more natural. He never asked again, but the way he’d quietly hold her bag as they walked, or flick a flower onto her braid while passing by, made everything feel gently understood.

Life had settled into a deceptive normal.

Pavithra’s body had softened further - her chest had grown fuller, enough that her blouses began to pull uncomfortably tight. During class, if she slouched even a bit, her bra hooks would dig into her back. Some girls teased her lovingly. “Loose bra pottuko, Pavithra… ivlo neram la nee romba grown-up aayitta!”

The humiliation was real. Once, during PE, she bent over during stretches and a few girls behind giggled.

“Enna di, your blouse buttons almost popping,” Swathi had whispered, and subtly adjusted the hem of Pavithra’s kurti for her.

Even at home, things had shifted. Every night, she slipped into soft floral nighties mostly Pavithra’s old ones that still had her cousin’s scent. The satin brushed against her softening skin, and the cling of the nightie on her now-curved body made her look undeniably like a girl in the mirror.

The mirror was her daily torture and truth.

She tried everything she could to find a way out checking online legal forums, even writing anonymous queries about mismatched biometrics and mistaken identity. But nothing worked. Government IDs now showed her face as Pavithra. Her school records had her fingerprints. Everything about her life had been overwritten.

At school, she excelled in all subjects except Computer Science - something she had never studied before. During a unit test, her answer sheet had been almost blank. “Bio student aa nee?” the teacher joked. She could only fake a smile.

Swathi had become her constant shadow and emotional anchor. The girls in class now shared earrings, lipstick shades, and even switched their sports bras. “Pavithra, unakku loose-a irukkum, nee ithu try pannu,” Swathi said once, handing over her tight-fitting bra before PE class. In the changing stall, as they swapped, Pavithra’s cheeks burned at how comfortable, how real it felt. Her body was… too convincing now.

Arun Becomes Himself:

Meanwhile, Arun, now fully in his role as the older cousin brother, had blossomed. He had grown more muscular with regular carpentry work, now walking shirtless under the sun with a faint moustache and deepening voice. The shop was now under his name. Villagers called him “Arun anna,” and no one suspected otherwise.

He still affectionately called Pavithra “Thangachi,” even when she came back home exhausted and slightly teary-eyed from school.

“Enna ma, school la over acting panra girls ellam?” he’d joke, bringing her tea.

“Anna summa irunga” she’d mumble, twisting the ends of her long braid with tired fingers.

Despite her silent suffering, she couldn’t help admire how confidently Arun had claimed his new life.

Diwali Trip Planning and a KTM Ride:

After the final 11th standard paper, Swathi ran up with glowing excitement. “Pavithraaa! Mall trip panlam? Cinema, shopping, and Arjun will also join!”

Pavithra hesitated.

Swathi stared at her. “Don’t you dare wear salwar again. You’re wearing modern dress, lipstick and kajal. I’m watching you.”

The next day, Arun stood outside the house revving his new KTM Duke bike, wearing aviators. “Ready, Thangachi?”

Pavithra was dressed in a sleeveless pastel peach kurti with delicate embroidery, white cigarette pants, and light gold slippers with a small heel. Her thin bra straps were visible under the kurti sleeves, her breasts now full and round. She wore a soft pink lipstick, matching peach clutch, and a tiny bindi. Her hair was braided neatly with jasmine tucked at the end. On her ears were simple gold studs, and a thin chain hugged her slender neck.

“Anna… too much-aa?” she asked shyly.

He smiled. “Nee ippo paathu full figure maari irukke. Anna drop panna laam nu perumai.”

She climbed behind him, her anklets gently jingling as she held on. The wind made her braid sway, and she tried not to let her dupatta fly off completely.

4. Mall, Cinema, Restaurant – Arjun’s Quiet Care

At the mall, Swathi and two other friends went wild at the makeup stores. Pavithra stuck to Arjun’s side.

“Nice kurti,” he said. “But the lipstick… could be a little darker.”

“Oh, seri beauty expert,” she teased, but she checked the mirror twice after that.

Inside the cinema, Arjun sat beside her. During a romantic duet scene, their arms brushed, and he didn’t move. Instead, he casually offered popcorn and smiled when she shyly took a bite. She noticed how close their faces were… how his eyes lingered when she laughed.

At lunch, he insisted on feeding her one bite of kesari.

“Just one, please. Special Arjun signature spoon.”

She giggled, taking the spoon slowly into her mouth. “Happy now?”

Outside, while reapplying lipstick at a glass pillar, Arjun held up his phone like a mirror. “Perfect angle. Go on, Miss universe.”

A group of girls from school passed by, giggling behind their palms. “Love scene, pola,” one whispered.

Swathi came up. “If you’re not dating him, I’m marrying him. Be clear.”

“I’m not,” Pavithra replied. But her heartbeat told a different story.

5. That Evening - Walking Her Home

After the day out, he carried her bags and walked her home slowly.

“Did you enjoy?” he asked quietly.

“Hmm.”

“You wore lipstick well,” he said. “And your braid… I noticed you used three strands this time instead of two.”

“You noticed that?” she asked, genuinely surprised.

“I notice everything,” he replied, and just smiled.

As he turned back, she stood outside her gate, heart fluttering, confused. For someone who had wanted nothing more than to escape this disguise, she wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore.

The gold chain clinked softly as she turned to walk inside.