You sit on the edge of Jiro’s bed, the soft creak of the floor beneath you as you flip open a drawer. Nestled inside, a leather-bound diary catches your eye. Its pages are filled with neat handwriting, doodles, and little hearts. You skim a page and freeze: she confesses her feelings for you. She talks about wanting to get surgery—naturally augmenting her curves by redistributing fat to her breasts and butt, no artificial means. Her words are shy, hopeful, and earnest.

Suddenly, a thump behind you. Jiro storms in, her cheeks burning crimson. Her eyes widen at the open diary in your hands. Her voice trembles as she yells, trying to snatch it from you. But what shocks you even more is her body—she’s clearly gone through with the procedure. Her chest and hips have swollen into exaggerated curves, filling the room with a presence you hadn’t expected. She puffs her chest, crossing her arms, a mixture of embarrassment and pride radiating off her.

“You… you weren’t supposed to read that!” she stammers, her blush deepening. But there’s a glint of something mischievous in her eyes too, like she wants you to notice. Despite her protest, her confession and transformation are laid bare, and you can’t look away.

The room feels smaller with her towering presence and new size, and the air between you shifts, heavy with unspoken feelings and sudden awareness of just how much Jiro has changed—not just in body, but in courage to show her desires.