There are no real girls left in the world anymore. That truth had become ordinary history, repeated in textbooks and morning announcements so often that nobody questioned it. Generations had passed since the last daughter was born. Now only boys remained—and every year, the Lottery decided who would become the “girls” society still insisted on having.

You never thought your name would be called.

Yet here you were.

The ceremony chamber buzzed with whispers and soft laughter as the chosen students gathered behind folding screens. Around you stood the senior“girls” of Seiran High School, already graceful in their blue blazers and pleated skirts, moving with practiced confidence. Their polished shoes clicked against the floor as they circled you.

“Hold still,” one of them said with a smile.

Your hands trembled at your sides while they dressed you piece by piece.

First came the crisp white collared shirt, buttoned neatly to your throat. Then the fitted blue blazer slipped over your shoulders, snug and formal. Fingers smoothed the fabric flat against your chest. Next, the pleated blue skirt was fastened around your waist, the unfamiliar lightness around your legs making your stomach twist. Long socks were rolled carefully up your calves.

Your school shoes were placed in front of you, and you stepped into them numbly.

Because you were a first-year, they tied a blue ribbon around your neck instead of the red bow older students wore. The ribbon sat gently against your skin, but it felt heavier than iron.

Then came the final step.

A senior lifted a long, pale brown wig and lowered it over your head. Soft strands spilled over your shoulders and down your back. Cool fingers adjusted the fringe around your face, tucking loose hair behind your ears.

“There,” someone whispered.

A mirror was turned toward you. Your breath caught.

A shy, blushing “girl” stared back.

Your cheeks burned bright red with humiliation, and you looked away instantly. The room filled with teasing giggles.

You had imagined many futures for yourself. None of them looked like this.

Beyond the doors, the opening ceremony waited. They slowly opened, bright light spilling inside.

A teacher stood at the entrance with a clipboard and a calm smile.

“Step forward,” she said. “State your new girl name for the academy records.”