Raifu suitchi 16

Chapter 16 – Hell Hath No Fury Like a Watanabe Scorned

When Allen next awoke, he was instantly aware that something was wrong; His entire body felt rigid and incredibly frail. Attempting to move his arm, he discovered it was secured to the bed, along with his other limbs. In a hoarse and unrecognizable voice, he managed to croak out, "Help." Moments later, the sound of approaching footsteps filled the room, and soon, Jin Watanabe's grey-haired head, wearing a broad grin, entered Allen's limited field of vision.

"Good afternoon, Allen," Jin greeted, picking up a glass of water from the bedside table and pressing a button on a remote tethered to the bed. The bed's motor whirred softly, gradually elevating Allen into a seated position as Jin offered the glass to Allen's parched lips, encouraging him to sip. Despite his initial reluctance, Allen's extreme thirst drove him to accept the water. Once Allen had his fill, Jin set the glass back on the table.

With his immediate thirst quenched, Allen took the opportunity to survey the room as best as he could, given the restrictive band across his forehead and the discomfort caused by the bright artificial lighting. His observations confirmed he was indeed in a hospital room of some sort. Jin Watanabe loomed over his bed, still sporting that unsettling grin, while a massive man, resembling a silverback gorilla in build, loitered in the doorway.

"Please, let me go," Allen implored, his voice sounding unnaturally high and his throat itchy.

Jin's smile widened. "Where do you need to be?" he inquired, amusement colouring his tone. "The TV show is over, and you're currently without obligations. If you're curious, this year concluded without a winner. As anticipated, all contestants withdrew, none willing to face the final challenge."

"How long have I been here?" Allen's voice carried a note of panic, each word scraping painfully against his throat.

Jin tilted his head, the corners of his mouth stretching into a disturbingly sinister smile. "What's the last date you remember?" he probed, his interest piqued.

Allen concentrated, trying to steady his rapid breathing as the room seemed to swirl around him. "November 2nd," he managed to say, feeling a wave of dizziness.

There was a brief pause as Jin's expression darkened, giving way to an unsettling, prolonged chuckle that lingered in the air uncomfortably long before he suddenly stopped and leaned in close to Allen. "Today is March 15th. You've been here for the last four months," Jin revealed with a perverse sense of enjoyment, watching as a look of horror spread across Allen's face.

"Four months!" Allen's exclamation was a mix of disbelief and fear, his feeble attempts to break free from his bindings proving futile.

"Settle down!" Jin's voice was both a command and a taunt, accompanied by another chuckle. "Otherwise, I will be forced to sedate again. We wouldn't want you injuring yourself, would we?"

Feeling his energy ebbing away, Allen ceased his struggles, not out of compliance but sheer exhaustion. The induced coma had ravaged his body, leaving him a shadow of his former self. "Please, tell me what's happening here. Make me understand," Allen implored, his voice tinged with a desperation he had never known before.

Jin's expression abruptly shifted from congeniality to grave seriousness. "Very well," he declared, casting a significant look towards the door. "Saito, bring me my briefcase," he continued, seamlessly transitioning to Japanese.

The formidable man by the doorway moved forward, his every step heavy and resonant, as if the very floor beneath him trembled. Upon reaching Jin, Saito handed over the requested briefcase and then retreated a few paces.

With a sharp click, the briefcase sprang open. Jin wasted no time in locating what he sought. He pulled out a photograph, printed in large scale on glossy paper, and held it before Allen's eyes. "Tell me, do you recognize this girl? Does she seem familiar to you?" Jin probed, his voice tinged with a hint of anger.

Allen blinked several times, trying to bring the image into focus. The photograph depicted a young Japanese woman, positioned amidst the verdant backdrop of what appeared to be a botanical garden.

(See image 44)

"She's pretty," Allen's voice was rough, his gaze lifting to meet Jin's. " But I don’t think I know her." In an instant, Jin's expression morphed into one of pure rage as he abruptly snatched back the photo.

"Yes, she was beautiful. Until she crossed paths with you," Jin retorted, his tone starting quietly but intensifying with each word, sending a tremor of fear through Allen.

“This girl is my daughter, Riku,” Jin continued. “And although you seem to have forgotten her. She remembers you vividly for the havoc you wrought upon her life."

At that moment, a flicker of recognition sparked in Allen's mind. It was as if a switch had been flipped, illuminating forgotten corners of his memory. A shiver ran down his spine as the realization dawned on him - he remembered the girl! She was his stalker. A girl he'd had a one-night stand with after a night drowned in alcohol, only for her to begin shadowing his every move. In the photo, she appeared younger, more innocent than the heavily made-up figure he'd encountered in a nightclub, her skintight clothing leaving little to the imagination. Allen's mind raced back to their last confrontation, his own voice echoing harshly as he had demanded she leave him alone. The regret for his sternness lingered; but the girl was like a bad rash, she had clung to him persistently, always appearing at the worst possible moments, sabotaging any potential romance with others.

Jin observed Allen's distant expression, an unmistakable sign of dawning recognition. "Ah, so you do remember her. That is fortunate because few recall her as she was. After your actions, she looks different these days," Jin remarked, his voice tinged with a sombre note.

Reaching into his briefcase once again, Jin retrieved a second photograph and thrust it into Allen’s face. Allen, had he been able to, would have instinctively recoiled at the sight. However, constrained by the strap securing his head, he could only respond by shutting his eyes tightly.

"Open your eyes and confront the consequences of your actions," Jin commanded, his voice resounding against the walls, magnifying the gravity of the moment.

Summoning a fragment of courage, Allen drew a tremulous breath and opened his eyes to once again face the image presented by Jin. This time, the depiction of Riku was starkly different; her smile had vanished, replaced by a visage marred by severe disfigurement. Seated in a wheelchair, the entire right side of her face was a tapestry of scars.

"This is your doing!" Jin's voice thundered, filled with a potent mix of anger and sorrow. "Behold the damage inflicted upon my daughter!"

Confronted with the harrowing reality of Riku's condition, Allen was overtaken by a wave of guilt and fear, tears welling up in his eyes. "I... I... didn't do this," he stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions, as a solitary tear traced a path down his cheek.

"Perhaps you didn't directly push her from that roof, but your actions, your complete disregard for others and their emotions... Your selfish, cavalier attitude brought you to my country, where you treated our people, our women, like animals," Jin spoke with unwavering firmness, his gaze piercing into Allen. To hell with the consequences, right? Who cares who gets hurt. Well, I care! And now you too will experience life in a body you never anticipated."

Before Allen could muster a response, Jin retrieved another photograph from his briefcase, his hands quivering with anger as he presented it. “How about this one? Do you recognise this person?”

Faced with the image, Allen felt a surge of dread mixed with confusion. It was a photo of himself, captured during his first visit to the Raifu Suitchi studio. The memories of that day flooded back - before the chaos before his life had spiralled out of control. A profound longing washed over him, wishing he could return to that moment to advise his past self to run out the studio door and never look back.

(See image 45)

The perplexity etched across Allen's features seemed to amuse Jin, prompting the smile to creep back onto his face. "Maybe that was an obvious question. Of course, that's Allen Dolberg. You know him well. But, as you're about to discover, much like my dear Riku, the person in that picture no longer exists," Jin intoned ominously before turning away. "Saito, remove her restraints."

With a grunt of acknowledgement, Saito moved forward, first freeing Allen's head and then each arm in turn.

As the restraint's pressure eased, Allen felt an impulse to leap up and retaliate, but the realization that he could barely lift his arm quashed that fleeting hope. When his arm came into view, he couldn't suppress a gasp of shock. The arm before him looked entirely different to the one he expected to see - it was slender, lacking any muscular definition, and culminated in a distinctly feminine hand adorned with long, red nails. Yet, what struck him most profoundly was the skin tone - pale and glowing.

As Allen's gaze drifted downwards, a startling sight at the edge of his vision halted him in stunned silence. Carefully, he tilted his head down further, confronting a sight that left him momentarily breathless: a magnificent cleavage revealed itself, full and voluptuous. With a trembling hand, Allen guided a long-nailed finger beneath the silky fabric of the robe he found himself wearing, gingerly coaxing it open. The revelation of the twin globes that spilt out from beneath the robe took his breath away, their presence dominating his field of view and concealing the rest of his lower body from sight.

Tentatively, Allen traced his index finger across one of these disconcertingly realistic breasts, marvelling at the smoothness and suppleness of the skin beneath his touch. Gently grasping his enlarged nipple, a surprised moan escaped Allen’s lips, causing him to quickly retreat his hand, feeling overwhelmed by how sensitive it felt.

Suddenly, as a wave of nausea engulfed him, Allen was besieged by a horrifying realization. With a haste driven by panic, his hand shot down between his legs, searching. The discovery of a flat surface giving way to a sensitive hole made his knees knock together.

"Yes, you are a beautiful woman now," Jin declared, confirming the dreadful reality with a nod of satisfaction. "Perhaps even more beautiful than you deserve."

"What have you done to me?" Allen's shriek pierced the room, his voice high and unmistakably feminine, though tinged with a residual huskiness.

“Saito. Inform her.” Jin directed, stepping aside to allow the man-mountain that was Saito to take his place. Grasping a clipboard from the foot of the bed, Saito started listing the procedures in a tone devoid of emotion: “Hairline lowered. Brow bone reduced. Brow lift. Eyelid surgery. Canthoplasty, Cheek augmentation. Rhinoplasty. Earlobe reduction. Jaw reduction. Chin recontouring. Lip lift. Facial lipofilling.”

“Stop, please. That’s enough,” Allen cried out, feeling faint.

“Continue, Saito,” Jin commanded, dismissing Allen’s request while nodding towards the big man.

Saito resumed. “Trachea shave. Laryngeal chondroplasty.”

“That’s the cause of that raspy voice of yours. But don’t fret; a melodious, higher pitch is on its way,” Jin interjected, then signalled for Saito to continue. “Breast augmentation. Areola reconstruction. Removal of lower ribs. Liposuction. Buttock enhancement. Genital reassignment surgery.”

"Enough, Saito, thank you," Jin interjected with a wave of his hand before stepping over to claim the clipboard from his giant companion. “You’ve been through quite the metamorphosis. An ugly caterpillar transformed into a beautiful butterfly. Yet, being merely ordinary was never our goal for you. Extra enhancements were essential."

After a dramatic pause, Jin elaborated, "Your skin now rivals the immaculate texture of a porcelain doll, courtesy of numerous skin brightening sessions and laser hair removal treatments. Shaving is a task you’ll never have to endure again.”

As Allen recoiled into his pillow, eyes wide with shock, Jin observed his reaction with a mix of curiosity and amusement. "Oh, I apologize. Is the medical terminology too complex for you? How about I just show you the result instead," Jin mused, setting aside the clipboard. "Saito, help her to the mirror."

With a nod, Saito moved to release Allen's ankle restraints, then gently manoeuvred the former man toward the bed's edge, handling him with an ease that belied his formidable size. As Saito prepared to lift Allen, the latter protested.

"I can manage on my own!" Allen asserted, attempting futilely to push Saito's hands away.

"Saito, let her," Jin ordered, prompting the giant to withdraw. "Should you believe you're up to the task, by all means," he added, gesturing with his hand for Allen to proceed.

Casting wary glances at Jin and Saito, Allen hesitated, his slender legs swinging over the bed's side. Impatience flickering across Jin's features prompted a slight nod towards Saito, signalling him to intervene. This spurred Allen into action, pushing against the bed with all his might. Yet, the moment his feet made contact with the floor, his legs collapsed, sending him tumbling into a crumpled heap, a sharp cry of despair escaping him as he noticed his feet positioned unnaturally straight, akin to a ballerina's en-pointe stance.

"Your tendons have been shortened," Jin elucidated, noting Allen's bewildered and pained expression. "I noticed your fondness for those cumbersome high heels. Henceforth, they shall be your sole option." Jin's words were laced with a chilling laugh, as he nodded Saito to assist once more.

Saito advanced once more, effortlessly scooping Allen in his arms as if he were no heavier than a feather. Held aloft in the giant's embrace, Allen felt an acute vulnerability as he was transported across the room, silently beseeching the universe for this to be a mere nightmare from which he'd soon awaken. As they stopped, Allen felt a flicker of strength return. Looking up at Saito, he declared with newfound resolve, "Put me down. I can stand."

Saito's gaze shifted to Jin, seeking confirmation. With a nod, Saito gingerly set Allen onto the cool floor, momentarily supporting him to ensure his stability. Standing on tiptoes proved challenging for Allen, but armed with a newfound resolve, he steadied himself, determined not to succumb to gravity once again.

With Saito stepping away, the full view of the mirror came into focus, previously obscured by his towering presence. The sharp intake of breath that ensued cut through the silence. Eyes widening in sheer disbelief, Allen was confronted with a reflection that seemed entirely alien. The person gazing back wasn’t him. It was a woman, distinctly Japanese, endowed with a disproportionally large pair of breasts, her skin reminiscent of polished porcelain, her facial features exquisitely refined. Tentatively, Allen raised a slender hand towards his face, tracing the contours of his reduced nose, while the woman in the mirror - mouth agape and eyes wide - mirrored his every move, rendering the surreal transformation incontrovertibly real.

(See image 46)

Allen's gaze fixed on his fully feminized body with a mix of horror and revulsion, the stark blue of his eyes glaringly out of place against his newly Japanese features. In that moment, any lingering hope of reclaiming his past life, along with his aspirations and dreams, evaporated. Anger swiftly overtook him, and he whirled around to confront Jin Watanabe, whose smirk only fuelled his fury. "You sick son of a bitch," he yelled, his voice trembling as much as his body. "You won't get away with this."

"I already have," Jin countered with unwavering conviction. "In Japan, we cherish a concept unfamiliar to you - honour. We hold ourselves accountable for our actions. This principle is shared by my esteemed friend, Mr. Kawaguchi, CEO of Bloom magazine, and Mr. Aso, a surgeon renowned throughout Japan for his skill, the very skill that has crafted your new appearance. Your actions have dishonoured our country, Allen Dolberg. Now, you shall bear the weight of those actions."

As the room began to spin once more, Allen's equilibrium faltered. Unaccustomed to the added weight hanging from his chest and balancing precariously on the tips of his toes, he desperately flailed his arms in a futile attempt to stabilize himself, only to crumble to the floor.

Glancing down at his drastically altered physique, his eyes caught the sight of brightly painted red toenails - a detail he hadn't noticed until now. As darkness encroached on his consciousness, a singular, bemused thought crossed his mind: the meticulous care someone had taken to paint his toenails struck him as profoundly odd.