At breakfast time, the Ashido house was a chaotic scene of deathly silence and clumsy movements. Mina stood before the bathroom mirror, her fingers trembling as she held a razor she didn't know how to use, staring in horror at the reflection of a 40-year-old man who gazed back wearily. She stretched her cheeks, desperately searching for the rosy hue and smoothness of her original skin, but found only the rough texture of a nascent beard.

With a cry of frustration that sounded much deeper than she intended, she dropped the razor and ran her hands through her hair, examining the roots of her short, dark hair.

"Oh, no! Another gray hair? Dad, this body is a rip-off!" *Mina exclaimed indignantly, attempting an opening that ended in a groan of pain from the stiffness of her new joints. *"How can you live without flexibility and with this boring skin tone? We're buying a pink jacket tomorrow, or I'm going crazy!"