Is It Weird for a Guy to Apply to a Witch School?

After Bai Yu’s relentless dress-up marathon, I was finally drained.

At the moment, I wore a fitted top with a dark, multi-layered chiffon skirt, delicate lace peeking out between the tiers. My legs were wrapped in black stockings—Bai Yu had slipped them on for me herself, coaching me on how to avoid snagging them.

I had lost track of how many outfits she had made me try on. Dresses, skirts, intricate ensembles—her suitcase felt like a bottomless fashion vault. I had been marveling at it the entire time, though that hadn’t stopped her from forcing me into one outfit after another.

This particular set might have seemed simple on its own, but once I threw on my witch cloak, the entire look transformed.

That witchy vibe hit just right—guess witches really did belong in girls’ clothes.

The cloak itself was dark, but not solid black. Instead, it had a sheer, gauzy depth to it, shifting subtly in color depending on what I wore.

As I moved, I caught glimpses of its magic at work, blending seamlessly with my outfit. A cloak that adapted to its wearer—now that was a piece worth keeping.

While Bai Yu was busy fussing, I grabbed my witch hat from the side and plopped it on my head. My long hair spilled down my back, giving off a breezy, relaxed look.

She hadn’t taught me how to tie it up yet, though. I’d never done it myself—zero experience. A rubber band dangled around my wrist, ready for whenever I’d give it a shot.

“Worn out after all that swapping, huh?” Bai Yu asked.

“Dead tired,” I shot back, not sugarcoating it. No point in being overly polite with her—we were way past that.

It was the first time I had seen Bai Yu so obsessed with something. She was usually so laid-back—why was she suddenly acting like some beauty-obsessed girly-girl? And why did it have to be at my expense?

“Sorry about that,” she said with a grin. “Think of it as payback for all these new clothes I got you. They weren’t cheap, you know.”

“Yeah, fair enough.”

I didn’t complain. She was right—I had hit the jackpot here. More than anything, Bai Yu was just giving me an excuse to accept it without guilt.

“So cute~ Seeing you take it in stride like this puts me at ease,” she cooed, before suddenly pulling me into a hug.

Before I could react, I was smothered in pure softness—her generous chest pressing against my face with no escape in sight.

First time getting the Bai Yu face-wash treatment!

Back in the day, I’d always kept a careful distance from her—like an unspoken rule we both followed.

Now? That rule was gone. This kind of closeness threw me off balance—heart racing, mind scrambling.

Wait… does Bai Yu like me?

The thought zipped through my head, sending a jolt down my spine.

No way. No way. She was probably just treating me like a gal pal. I had no clue how girls acted with their best friends, but this seemed normal enough… right?

Besides, it’s not like the world was overflowing with lesbians. Bai Yu knew I was a girl now—I couldn’t even offer her that kind of “pleasure.” There was no way she still liked me like that.

Even back when I was a guy, she never showed any signs of our friendship turning into anything more.

I’ve heard girls see lesbian vibes the same way guys see gay stuff—hard pass, and they hate when people misread close friendships as something romantic.

If Bai Yu did like me, wouldn’t she have taken advantage when I was changing? That was prime “helpless” territory.

But no—she’d been totally normal about it. Just helping me out, teaching me the ropes of bras, skirts, underwear—hooks, ties, the whole deal. Nothing sketchy.

Bai Yu’s always acted like some big sister figure, and I’d never really thought twice about it…

“Yuehan~ Let me brush your hair,” she said, cutting through my wandering thoughts. “You should start practicing tying it up yourself. Leaving it loose like this looks great, sure, but it’s a mess waiting to happen. Plus, it doesn’t always match every outfit.”

A comb had appeared in her hand out of nowhere, and she stepped behind me. I straightened up, sitting still—not bouncing around like I had during the clothes swap. 

Now I felt more like a girl at her vanity, calm and easygoing.

Her fingers slipped into my hair, the comb gliding through without a hitch. So far, so good—no tangles. I’d been half-dreading that moment when the comb snags and yanks my scalp. That kind of pain? Instant goosebumps.

“Your hair’s in great shape,” Bai Yu said softly, her voice right by my ear. “Make sure you take care of it—hair’s like a girl’s second life. Gotta keep it safe.”

“Mm, I will,” I replied with a small nod. I didn’t want to be caught dead with a rat’s nest on my head—that’d be a disaster.*

Back when I was a guy, I could’ve shrugged off people’s opinions without a second thought.

Who cared, right? Boys could get away with that.

But now? Whole different game.

Swap genders, swap mindsets, I guess.

Still, tying hair was a real skill. If you were clueless, getting it right was nearly impossible—especially when trying to do it blindly behind your head. Looked like I had some practicing to do.

“You're still a little shaky with braids, huh?” Bai Yu teased, barely holding back a laugh as she eyed my clumsy attempt.

Then, with a quick flick, she pulled her hair tie loose, letting her long locks tumble down her back. “How about you practice on me instead?”

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” My eyes lit up. A chance like this? No way was I passing it up. If Bai Yu was offering, I was all in.

I ran my fingers through her hair—silky, smoother than mine even! I almost didn’t want to let go, but I reminded myself I was here to learn, not admire.

Since I was a rookie, Bai Yu started me off with the basics—ponytails, the easiest place to begin.

There were tons of ways to tweak it: high ponytail, low ponytail, that effortless loose style. Making it look good, though? That was where the real challenge came in.

For now, I figured simple was best—tying it midway down or at the ends. Just enough to keep it controlled without pulling too tight, and it kept her hair from flying everywhere.

If I slung it over one shoulder, it had that “dangerous” vibe—like the kind of hairstyle in anime that screams, this character is a total badass but will die in misery.

Good thing this world wasn’t built on clichés… right?

Translator's note: A rat's nest in your hair? Nuh. But what about a bird? Bird's nest on her hair... That sounds exactly what a forest witch is like!

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