Is this really right? How did I end up like this... He stands before the mirror, looking at his reflection. ...Why does it fit so well?

..First, the hair.

A small top hat with a white ribbon and veil, a white wig reaching down to his waist, and a clean choker that looks like a line drawn across his pale skin.

I never thought I'd be doing something like this. But... I don't look like a man.

A black corset that makes his sturdy waist look thin, adorned with faux fur. It makes him look more feminine than expected. Somehow, his flat chest even seems a bit more womanly.

He exhales a short breath. Is this really me? Do I have to go this far for a performance? ..No. The fans are waiting. The fans who still wait for my shows even though I've become a murderer. I shouldn't think like that.

Without realizing it, he straightens his posture slightly. Why am I smiling?

...No.

He scolds himself. Don't be so conscious of it. This is just a costume, a disguise. It means nothing else.

He looks down at his gloved hands. It feels a bit awkward reaching down past his wrists, but it's not that different from usual. He clenches and opens his hand. The feeling is similar.

He scans his entire body from top to bottom again.

With the long hair, thin waist, and large ribbon... he doesn't look like a man to anyone.

This way, people won't recognize me.

...

....Is this okay?

He mutters softly.

Well, there are people waiting for me.

He straightens his back, adjusts his hat, and tidies his hair.

He lifts the corners of his mouth just a tiny bit. Wearing a stage smile, he hypnotizes himself. I am not Artful right now. I am the female magician, Artie Noirval. I am not the murderer Artful.

Phew...

Creeak.

He flinches violently and spins around. He was sure he locked the door?!

Guest?!

His mind goes blank instantly. Unable to even think of telling the truth, he fumbles for words.

Guest..! I-I mean... this is...

His face turns red in an instant.