Frank and Jameson were like minded men leading completely different lifestyles. While Frank descended from a long line of honest folk making a living off the coast of a bountiful sea, Jameson was what one might call a white horse; an influential person who never had to work a day in their life if they wanted something done, either leaving the job to someone else or paying to skip the labor entirely.

But perhaps that polarizing divide in their lives was what drew them together in the first place. Ever since they'd first met when Jameson's parents had come to Frank's humble abode looking to buy up their business, the two had been at odds with each other, constantly meeting up at the strangest of times in their lives as if an invisible hand was shifting them around on a board that encompassed the world, forcing interactions between the two that would ultimately result in the start of a strong friendship onceit was clear Jameson’s constant taunting and flaunting of his family’s riches had no effect on the quiet Frank, whose understanding and nonchalant personality clashed directly with his.

Instead of shooing away or reporting Jameson’s bullying, Frank had instead drawn the naive man into conversation, rebutting the rich kid’s view that money and influence was all one needed to come out on top over other people.

“But then you don’t build trust, you only get people to hate you, and if there's no one to fall back on when things go bad…you only have yourself to blame.”

 "Ma and Pa can always hire more people! People can be bought!"

"And when the money's gone? What then?"

"Hah! Money can't be 'gone'! You stupid or something?"

"..."

It was conversations like these that nurtured an understanding and then eventually a friendship between the two boys, starting off as pointless banter then discussion, and then it became hangouts and eating lunch together. It was a slow process, but over the years Frank and Jameson became inseparable. Everything, from studying, holiday breaks to making important decisions regarding their future, they did together. While Frank's side of the relationship saw no issue, Jameson had to take a hefty beating or two when he stubbornly refused his parents own designs for where he should go in life, sticking fast to Frank's side like glue despite the derogatory terms he had used to describe educational institutes like the highschool and college they had gone through together.

When asked about it by Frank, the man had given the most vague of answers that ultimately answered nothing.

"You think I can let someone like you out of my sights? No way Frank!"

While Frank was someone who was studious and disciplined by nature, it took awhile for Jameson to catch up to the same standards put forth by his buddy. It took him a few tries and plenty of bribes to keep his position by Frank's side secure, but eventually, the haughty upstart had become just as much of a nerd as Frank was, pulling his own weight when the time came to prep for tests, exams or projects.

And as much as he tried to hide it from Frank, the keen eyed man had already seen the real reasoning behind Jameson's hard work; the man saw competition, and he wasn't about to let himself be beaten by someone he no doubt saw as his inferior.

But that still left Frank confused as to why he'd go so far as to hang out with him all the time. The way he treated others was just like the first encounter they had in preschool; vulgar, rude and insensitive. But when it came to him, his mood turned jovial, losing that edge and seriousness in his tone. Could it be that he saw him as an equal? Hence the special treatment and such.

'Nah…that can't be…'

That was the life the two men led together, until the time came for them to decide on where to go for the next chapter; a job, their lifeline and main source of income as independent adults in a harsh reality.

While Jameson had no need to worry too much considering his family's connections and him being set up to inherit it, Frank had expressed an interest in returning home to help his parents man the boats and hoist the nets, maintaining the fish trade his forefathers had continued for generations. This, to no one's surprise, had come as unpleasant news to Jameson who had been hoping for an entirely different outcome.

No matter how much he offered or the resources he promised to provide to his family's business, Frank had vehemently refused his friend's invitation to join his father's company as a scientist considering his brilliant mind and technological skills.

"You'd literally be a waste out here Frank! At least in the labs you could be helping in the creation of things that benefit the whole world!"

"I've said it already James, I'm not interested. I don't know about you but I don't want to leave my family in the hands of people I don't trust to get the job done…plus I'm in this to carry on the family tradition, not some sideshow gig…school is school but this stuff isn't up for discussion."

That had been the last time either one spoke to the other, leaving on bad terms that neither side could clear away. Jameson because of his pride and bullheadedness in having his way denied and Frank because he was too narrow minded to see his friend as anything but a childish rich kid throwing a tantrum at having to buck up and face the world.

That should've been the end of that, but years would pass with Jameson never really having moved on from Frank's rejection, viewing it as a betrayal of sorts. And like some people said; revenge was a powerful motivator in the minds of the right people.

Spurred by the desire to show Frank that he had made the wrong choice, Jameson had spent years commissioning and working on a grand design that would no doubt leave his former friend at a loss for words with no choice but to concede if he saw just what he was capable of. And with his family fortune and a team of some of the brightest minds in the world, there was no way they couldn't have succeeded in bringing Jameson's vision to life; a Time Machine capable of sending multiple people to various points throughout history with built in safeties to ensure the user remained safe from the dangers of time fluctuations and paradoxes.

Except Jameson hadn't taken into account that the people he was working with weren't Frank, resulting in many volatile but brief spats between him and his 'underlings', bossing them around with zero understanding for their own personal issues. Naturally, such treatment could only breed discontent, and just like he sought to one up Frank, his own employees soon sought his downfall, plotting behind his back to sabotage his dear machine even if it meant the discovery of a decade went to waste…but with the blueprints already copied and waiting to be sent to a rival company, it wasn't as if that mattered much. Once the machine was activated, it would instead send its target to a random destination on the world line with its safety mechanisms disabled, that meant that the traveler would be left vulnerable to the temporal influence of time itself with unpredictable results.

And so, when the day finally came for Jameson to test the machine, the pompous lead designates himself and Frank as the targets to be sent hurtling through time, setting a course for the future and providing the location of Frank's family home as the target. As long as the machine had the targets locked in its databases, it didn't matter where they were in the world. A terribly intrusive and equally frustrating system to implement at the behest of Jameson.

But as the men and women in the room watch with silent anticipation, they knew that all their troubles would soon be gone as a bright light engulfs Jameson, vanishing him from the lab and leaving them all free to cheer and whoop, cursing the arrogant fool before taking whatever they could from the place as they made their exit like the treacherous snakes they were, uncaring of the second individual their former boss had doomed to share his fate.

And as for Frank? The only notice he had been given to something being awfully wrong was the brief shimmering of particles beaming up and down around him before his vision fills with searing light, leaving the boat by the pier unmanned and his colleagues oblivious to his disappearance.

By the time the lights in the lab go dark and the waves lapping against the shores lose their fervor, the world population went down by two individuals, and any records of a big time company inventing a time machine or a popular seaside fishery in a certain country would fade from the minds of every living soul…

Frank

“What the heck? Wasn't I at the…this…this shouldn't be possible!"

It was a surprise to be sure for the startled fisherman who had been emptying a net full of fish inside the tub for processing before his vision had gone completely white. He had thought the faint sparkles and trickles of light forming around him to be the refractions of sunlight bouncing around the salty seawater dropping down his face, but by the time he realized it wasn't a trick, it was too late.

And now he was here, in the middle of a sloping suburban street that seemed far too narrow. Packed in from both sides by a seemingly endless array of houses constructed in a design that, to the quiet Frank, seemed alien with the closest comparison he could make being those mimicry chinashop street houses he had seen years ago in some museum. It was all he needed to realize that wherever he was, it wasn't anywhere remotely close to home.

'Am I even in the US anymore?'

Rifling through his pockets in search of his phone to try and figure out where he was, Frank winces as his hands begin to prickle when they wrap around the cold metal of his IPhone, pulling it out once he had a firm grip only for his confusion to turn into shock and wonder at the sight of his trusty gadget shimmering sporadically with distortions filling the air around it as if it was a volatile bomb that could go off at any second.

But even through the haze of particles and mesmerizing lights, the phone display was still functional, giving Frank the brief snapshot of information he needed…except it was all a mess of jumbled letters and constantly changing numbers, and the symbols that were there kept flashing on and off, as if the data and functions within the phone itself were being altered on the fly. Even rapid taps and constant thumbing on the on/off button failed to elicit a response.

Before he could try anything else however, the sleek rubber and polished aluminum composing the expensive device begins to turn white hot, turning into a glowing slab before shattering into a thousand fragments of floating shapes that fade after a few seconds pass, leaving Frank stunned and clueless, numbed momentarily to the pain of losing a thousand dollar phone that held his contact details and other important tidbits with his immediate attention held up by the disbelief of watching the impossible happen right before his eyes. Phones didn't just up and shatter into rainbow tinted shapes…

Left with no choice but to explore the vacant street in a bid for something to guide him along the strange occurrences, the displaced American  keeps his eyes locked on the many houses looming over him, hoping there would be someone he could look to for help. But after trotting downhill a good distance from his starting position near a lamppost, it was clear that none of these houses were inhabited. Sending a shiver down Frank's spine at the eerie silence that gripped the area, no chirping birds, no distant roars of passing trains or speeding vehicles rumbling down highways. He would've found this sort of atmosphere relaxing if he hadn't been spirited away in the middle of his job.

In his search for a face however, Frank's gaze freezes on a brass plate riveted onto the brick and mortar of a lifeless home, frowning upon the sight of weird symbols composed of slant lines and oblong cubes, a language that seemed vaguely familiar to him…but where had he seen it before?

“こんにちは、迷子ですか？”

A sudden tap on the shoulder accompanied by a low sounding voice calling out in a foreign tongue jolts Frank’s already amped up state into overdrive, sending him into a panic that nearly trips him up on the asphalt as he spins on his soaked boots, coming to a stop before a short spindly man dressed in baggy jeans that went all the way up to his bony waistline, atop which sits a neatly ironed out white shirt containing a gaunt torso painted over in pale skin tinted a vague yellowish orange. But the words he spoke, the first few at least, had been enough to fill Frank in on just where exactly he had ended up at;

‘J-Japan? How the hell am I in Japan?’

But that still left the question of where the man had come from, just seconds ago the hill had been emptied of life, not a sound to be heard for miles around, and now someone had snuck up on him without so much as a sound? But the look he was giving him seemed unusual, almost as if he couldn't stare him straight in the eyes without looking elsewhere across his body. Had he never seen a vest before? Whatever it was, he didn’t like the creepy vibes he was giving off.

“Um…sumimasen? I uhh…don’t need help!”

He knew it was sort of rude to brush someone off like that but with the language barrier and an increasing urge to make a quick getaway after realizing the man was shuffling forward inches at a time, Frank saw no other alternative, trotting down the hill at a brisk pace before the stranger could do anything else…all while his soggy boots still reeking of sea brine begins to dry itself off, shrinking down into a more sleek, organic design, losing most of its bulk for a slimmer yet stronger material in place of shimmery rubber.

By the time Frank was sure he'd made a safe getaway far enough downhill through a small opening in the sidewalk that seemed to lead elsewhere, small, all terrain footwear colored an eye catching red had replaced the previous flimsy rubber boots covering his wrinkled feet that, like the lifeless leather that embraced it, was also beginning to change, conforming to tighter confines while torn, weathered skin heals over toned meat befitting legs that had seen much use. Clad in unbelievably smooth skin radiating a feminine allure in the way they covered gentle sloping ankles and the crevasses between dainty toes. All of this and more, powdered up and saddled in comfortable ankle high black socks that contrasted well with the reds of his shoes and the paleness of his skin…which was slowly beginning to take on the same faint sunset hues present in the man from earlier, who was left in the dust once Frank had turned a corner into an alleyway of sorts leading off from the sloping road, oblivious to the way his calves were beginning to pump up with toned muscle while unnecessary meat and flabby fat were trimmed away in favor of a slim curvy silhouette that afforded lightning fast maneuvers that packed just as much of a punch.

“えっ？待って！ あーあ...彼女もあんなに美人だったのに...”

With the strange man out of sight, Frank sighs before looking around to get his bearings, pacing through the shaded alleyway as the sounds of a world awakening to the presence of a foreigner fills his ears; he could hear people the closer he got to the other side of the dirt strewn path, the rumble of an ancient motor and the scuttle of trash as a cat emerges from behind a pile of rubbish. Frank was no stranger to dirt and scum after years watching his parents work the docks and tending to the fishery, but something inside his chest seemed to spur his movements, urging him to get out of there as soon as possible, disgusted and disgruntled as an unconscious hand moves to tuck a stray lock of lengthening hair behind shrinking ears, hair that cleanses itself of its oily sheen to reveal lustrous locks of blonde snaking out of a healing scalp before entwining together like snakes to form twin ringlets that flow downward over thinning shoulders beneath a rippling vest that was starting to fuse with the pale blue undershirt into one article of clothing, losing its thick, waterproof qualities for ordinary, high quality fabric usually used in clothes meant for the high and mighty in any given society.

Underneath it all however…something that no man should be caught wearing in public slowly begins to encircle a tightening torso that likewise, had already lost most of its flab and girth for a soft outline that was gentle for the eyes to follow; complete with the gradual expanse of widening hips that stopped just short of their full potential linking up below to plump thighs filled with an equal portion of experienced muscle and supple fat while an invisible rope tightens up a cinched in waistline at the top, forcing a natural S shaped curvature to Frank's spine that soon affects his natural posture as it adapts to the change in central mass and skeletal structure; thrusting out his chest while sticking his fattening derriere outward, all while a confident sway to wide set hips framing a tight, toned navel accompanied each and every step. Barely noticed by Frank in his sudden haste to cross the alleyway with only the slightest frown on a face that was slowly succumbing to the temporal effects of time making sure the new stray piece that was Frank stuck fast to the new playing board he had unwittingly found himself stranded in.

'Strange…am I getting shorter?'

Sure enough, the man had been drastically cut down in size ever since the changes started creeping up and down his body. While his legs still retained their lengthy allure, his upper body had shrunk a head or two, leaving its growing femininity that much more evident with how his squashed in torso lent more attention to the ripening breasts beginning to surge forth from his hardened chest, creamy mounds filling in the gaping cups of a form fitting bra while tenting the girl's school uniform that had emerged from the mess that was formerly tried and tested fisherman's attire, showing just the slightest tease of a delectable tummy while puffy shoulder caps conceal the carefully chiseled bulge of powerful biceps leading down to equally firm forearms that miraculously retained the gentle flow signature to the rest of Frank's changed body, ending off in waifish arms tipped with petite fingers strapped inside custom made gloves that afforded extra firm protection to already padded palms that were sturdy enough to slam a hole into a solid surface without a bruise.

By the time his trousers unwound themselves into tight rubbery spandex that clenches in on the one remaining piece of his former identity, Frank was more than aware of what was going on as his calm demeanor soon turns rabid, unable to help a startled yell that sounded more like a womanly scream rattling down the alley.

While the changes had initially been rendered invisible to Frank's eyes, the sudden pain of having his balls squashed in by the formation of spandex shorts was enough to shake his mind awake to the alien sensations assaulting him; the tickle of long lengthy ringlets pouring down his back and shoulders, a faint warmth beneath a fair belly bereft of the hair and gut he had been used to, the subtle tickle of the nylon rubbing against thick nipples topping nerves that had been reactivated and the way the warm afternoon hair seemed to rub him in ways he'd never felt before, prodding and brushing at rejuvenated skin with heightened sensitivity.

It was like being snapped awake from sleep paralysis, only instead of the things creeping around in the dark vanishing from view, Frank's vision instead fills with features that weren't there before, for instance, the drooping twin curls of blonde akin to antenna invading the top, and pert breasts protruding just below, shocking the virgin American at the sight of a girls pride jutting out from where he remembered a chiseled chest once sat, inert and flat, now rising and falling with each labored breath escaping fair lips framing a face that was more than halfway through replacing Frank's stiff narrow features with the visage of a young maiden, featuring a lighter complexion and powdered in thin layers of makeup to add to the natural glow of youth emanating from rosy cheeks, slant, analytical eyes furrowed in worry and a pouty mouth cleaned of hair follicles, devastating the beginnings of a beard to leave a sharp chin untouched.

"No fucking way! I'm 女の子？ 私の声！Words?! Why do I sound so…no!"

In reality, a few minutes had already passed since the changes began. But to a bewildered Frank, one moment he was still an average American man in his early twenties dressed for work at the docks, and the next he was stuck viewing the world through the eyes of a bodacious Japanese teenager, fumbling with her words and gasping in shock as trembling hands run all across her body, fingering her small mouth in shock at her sudden use of fluent Japanese alongside an inability to vocalize English without a heavy accent, patting down her clothes, wincing at the feel of her chest and then a yelp once overeager fingers trace the last bits of her manhood retreating into the beginnings of a virgin snatch pressing up tight to form the bulge of a camel toe against the spandex beneath a pleated skirt that had manifested over Frank's former trousers like a blooming flower, colored a matching red to go with the newborn lady's overall palette as they settle into place just above her crotch, displaying an air of daring and unabashed pride of the wearer's body.

Frank had come in from one end of the alley a displaced foreigner and out the other a prim and proper bred native to the island nation, lost and afraid with wide brown eyes darting wildly from place to place, taking in the strange sights of ancient scooters she had only ever seen in magazines to the weird fashion style of the sudden emergence of people appearing from spatial distortions in the world similar to the one that had taken her phone earlier. And as she stands there in the middle of the afternoon bustle, wandering eyes land upon the frail damsel looking unsure of herself, murmuring in hushed discussion and gossip in a tongue Frank should not have been able to understand. But alas she did…

From derogatory insults about her being a stuck up rich kid to the debauched leering of men looking to ask her out, Frank could decipher and even repeat the words under her breath. This was simply too much for her to handle, from the impossible leap across the world to the unexplained change in gender. And with an added accent when speaking English alongside a newfound (and unwanted) ability to speak and understand Japanese, Frank was at a total loss on what to do. Even if she could speak their tongue, it didn't seem likely for these people to believe her when they already had their own negative opinions drawn on her just on appearance alone.

If she walked up to them claiming she was a 20 something year old American man, they would probably take the chance to lynch her or something!

'This can't be happening! Why?! I was just doing my job!'

But before Frank's mind could shatter under the stress, a sudden click at the back of her mind accompanying a soothing cold settles her nerves, pressing her hand up against the wall to catch her breath as a slow but gradual buildup of new information and memories begin to parse through a first person filter, distorting her vision but also allowing her to experience these new visions as her own. Integrating them into her psyche as she unwittingly allows herself to be shaped by the mental flow into a soul more fitting to commandeer this new form of hers. Within the deluge of memories, new information was gleaned that told her all she needed to know, all that had happened within these 16 years or so of a life she had never lived, from her name to her upbringing.

Karin Kanzuki, the sole daughter born to an extremely wealthy family in charge of a Zaibatsu running under their name. While her father wanted a son, he had ended up with her instead…

And as the many years of regimental lifestyles, grueling training and absurd tests to see if she was worthy to inherit the family fortune sets in, Frank couldn't help but grit her teeth upon feeling the bitterness Karin felt against her father for the terrible upbringing he had put her through. If it weren't for her mother then she might not have had that much leniency left for him when she was inevitably able to fulfill her secret plan in usurping control of the Kanzuki Zaibatsu from her father.

Alongside the emotional grit however, synapses within Frank's brain begin to tingle and rewire themselves as personality traits, mannerisms and thought patterns ingrain themselves in her mind, affecting everything from her posture to the way she saw the world and its inhabitants. While she still remembered her life as the scraggly sea boy raised by loving parents, the raw emotional ire radiating from Karin's growing presence in her mind was simply too much to ignore.

Where she once felt fear and uncertainty at the foreign surroundings of what she now knew to be Japan set in the 90's, there was only contempt for the meager establishments and cramped homes dotting the street, fussing over the fumes released from the exhaust of a sputtering scooter as it drives by. And in place of her unwillingness to engage in conversation with the people around her in fear of retaliation or misunderstanding, there was simple scorn and a shameless outlook that viewed her 'adoring public' as nothing more than inferiors to be ignored. If all they could do was spout cheap drivel and look at her from the sidelines, then their words ultimately weren't worth listening to, systematically filtering them out of earshot as if this wasn't anything new for her.

And indeed it wasn't, for Karin Kanzuki had already been walking through these streets since she had enrolled in Tamagawa Minami High for a good year or so, having recognized the individual storefronts and the cheap goods they offered to the many points of interests she had singled out in her efforts to mingle and observe how commoners like these lived their lives. Frank would've been disgusted by someone like Karin, but as one of the 'commoners', the former man would have no insight as to the reasoning behind why a noble girl like her would take up such a snobby attitude.

But with her memories, experiences, skills and her physical form subverting his own, Frank couldn't help but devolve a little, losing his guiding principles and morals in exchange for Karin's elitist and competitive nature, empowered by the awe inspiring techniques of the Kanzuki style she now clearly remembered mastering and gleefully chortling at the inability of the people around her, most being much older than she was, to match up to both her standards and physical prowess. She was Kanzuki Karin, heiress of the Kanzuki family and inheritor of the Zaibatsu's fortune. She loved being herself, and nothing would ever change that fact.

'Was this what Jameson felt like all those years ago? Ufufu…bossing people around as if he owned them…but unlike that petulant fool, I actually have what it takes to back up my words~ Strength means victory, and victory is all one needs to be successful in life!'

Adjusting a large blue tie that had appeared at some point atop her bosom in Karin's reverie, the confident princess runs her hands through her hair before puffing up her pompous mane and scoffing at the sight of her fellow highschoolers going about their mundane lives and the old fashioned aunties looking disapprovingly at her. Leaving them all behind in the dust as she slowly trots over toward an open air cafe that had caught her attention a few weeks back for the rosemary tea they served, a rarity in these parts and an even harder find when looking for the right people to brew it just the way she liked it. Making her way towards a vacant table with bouncing blond locks and a flowing blue ribbon trailing behind her.

With her new identity firmly ascertained and the problems of the past placed firmly behind her, the opportunistic young lady sets her mind to work, hatching together a plot with her intentions and objectives clear before her eyes; the cleansing of her sullied name after that humiliating defeat the other day by someone who should've been her inferior, a commoner she might've mocked while crossing paths with on the street.

Instead of the decisive win she had envisioned before challenging the spunky girl to a fight, Karin had been laid out on the ground, her family techniques proving inadequate against her shrewd opponent who, from appearance alone, should've been the one on the losing end. Surprising her at the outcome after what seemed like an endless streak of wins that could not be broken…

Until a little nobody by the name of Sakura Kasugano had crossed paths with her. Ending that euphoric chain short and smearing her reputation. This could not stand.

But a plan to rectify this mistake was already brewing behind the scenes while the elegant young lady of the Kanzuki house basked in the warmth of a setting sun caressing her skin, sipping on the piney hot tea sloshing in her cup. Once again wholeheartedly believing that this would end in her favor, cocksure that victory was well at hand. All that remained was to make sure the girl knew about the competition she had planned beforehand and let time do the rest.

"If I'm correct…she should probably be lazing about at home…or maybe tussling in the dirt in another of those street fights…either way, I'll…Oh ho? Speak of the devil~"

Setting down her cup with keen eyes narrowed at the sight of the figure slowly approaching from the other end of the street, Karin lets loose a low chortle before unwinding her legs, crossing the long, flexible branches over each other and straightening her back in preparation to greet her esteemed rival as her quirky eyes widen at the sight of the vindictive princess under the shade.

"My, My, whatever are you doing all the way out here so late into the afternoon Sakura Kasugano…skipping out without daddy's permission?"

END OF PART 1