"Now, we just need to let it dry."
The hairstylist spoke to Nakyoung for the first time. But Nakyoung was in no state to respond.
"...Ah..."
The choice of dye color was, to put it mildly, awful. Platinum blonde. A difficult color to pull off in general, and since they hadn't bleached it first, patches of black peeked through here and there. The texture and tone of the color itself screamed that cheap dye had been used. It was the kind of low-quality job you'd expect from a streetwalker.
"Hold still."
When Nakyoung fidgeted again, the Japanese hairstylist, instead of comforting her obvious shock, pressed down on her shoulders with her arm even harder. Nakyoung, her face pale, had to watch her reflection in the mirror: short, choppy, cheap platinum blonde hair.
Ah, this...
It was a change she had surely braced herself for when she agreed to the disguise. But now that it was actually happening, Nakyoung's emotions were indescribable. Hairstyle was one of the biggest factors in shaping a person's image. Nakyoung's cherished, carefully maintained ebony black hair was gone without a trace. Replaced by a carelessly cut, short, cheap platinum blonde 'do, Nakyoung looked less like a second-generation Korean chaebol and more like a street prostitute catering to the lower classes in Japan.
Truly, the person named Lee Nakyoung was disappearing, and 'Jenny' from Vietnam was taking her place. Nakyoung felt it to the bone.
While the dye dried, Nakyoung's breathing grew ragged.
The more she felt herself changing, the more her crotch itched. Changing. Transforming. Or, perhaps, breaking down. Lee Nakyoung was being erased, and Jenny was taking her place.
But the changes Nakyoung had to endure today weren't over yet.
"Ah, you're here."
The door opened, and another woman appeared. Nakyoung was startled. Reflected in the mirror was another visitor: a woman with deeply tanned skin, extravagant eye makeup, and a bizarre pineapple-like hairstyle piled on her head. She was young, bordering on childish.
"Jenny! Say hello. This is the person who will be doing your makeup today."
"Ah... Yes, hello..."
Nakyoung greeted her in Japanese, her voice still hazy as if she hadn't fully accepted reality. The young Japanese woman, a textbook example of a gyaru, nonchalantly chewed gum and gave Nakyoung a perfunctory greeting.
"Pay me first. It's always prepaid."
"Okay."
Unlike the hairstylist, the gyaru was rude not only to Nakyoung but also to Miji, but Miji didn't seem to mind. She took out her wallet and handed the girl some money. After checking the amount, the Japanese girl immediately took the hairstylist's place, behind Nakyoung.
"..."
Seeing the gyaru's appearance up close in the mirror was even more shocking. Her skin was a completely different level of tan compared to Nakyoung, who had just started tanning. Pink eye shadow and a bizarre hairstyle that far exceeded any normal taste.
"The eyebrows and nose should look a little lower, and the lips should be thick. Since you're tanning the skin anyway, there's no need to touch it too much. Right?"
The gyaru asked, glancing at Miji in the mirror. As expected, she didn't care about Nakyoung's opinion at all.
Nakyoung's breathing became even more rapid. The tasks facing her today included tanning, hairstyle, and now makeup.
"That's right."
Having received Miji's final confirmation, the gyaru Japanese girl immediately began her "work."
First, she shaved off the ends of Nakyoung's neatly trimmed eyebrows. Then, she redrew the eyebrows, making them thicker and longer than before. So-called "seagull eyebrows."
Next, she thickly painted the area around Nakyoung's high nose bridge to hide it, and finally, she finished the makeup by painting her lips a pale color and making them look plump.
It was a method that precisely reversed the usual direction of makeup, which is to make the nose look higher and the lips red and glossy. Nakyoung was still frozen, unable to react.
"This should be enough."
"Good work."
The gyaru glanced over her work and smiled with satisfaction.
The Japanese girl's eyes, looking down at Nakyoung from the front, were strange. She didn't understand why she was doing this bizarre thing, but she seemed to like making Nakyoung look similar to her. She admired her, now even closer to a Southeast Asian look, with a sense of pride, but also treated Nakyoung like a strange person.
"Okay, you can go now."
After driving out both the hairstylist and the makeup artist gyaru, Miji finally took Nakyoung's place.
As if it were natural, she put her hand firmly on Nakyoung's shoulder and massaged it with painful intensity, making eye contact with Nakyoung, who was staring at the mirror with a pale face.
"How is it? Jenny, I really like it. It suits you perfectly..."
Miji was openly mocking Nakyoung.
She had watched in real-time as a refined beauty, the kind anyone would turn to look at on the street, transformed into a cheap prostitute who would attract people's attention in a completely different way.
Nakyoung couldn't say anything.
The Nakyoung reflected in the mirror was truly a different person. Now that the dye was dry, it looked even cheaper. Dirty platinum blonde hair, roughly cut short, thick seagull eyebrows, plump, faded lips, and vulgar eye makeup.
Even Chairman Lee, Nakyoung's father, who had watched over Nakyoung her entire life, wouldn't recognize her. The woman sitting in the hair salon now wasn't Lee Nakyoung, but Jenny.
"Stand up."
Miji instructed, tapping Nakyoung's stiff shoulder. Nakyoung grabbed the armrests of the chair and barely managed to stand up.
"I'm asking if you like it."
"...Yes. I like it."
Nakyoung barely squeezed out the words.
"It seems like... a perfect disguise."
Nakyoung replied, touching her unrecognizable face.
"Good. Ah, I'm thirsty from waiting so long. Go to the convenience store over there and get something to drink?"
"Yes..."
Miji handed her some crumpled Japanese yen and asked her to run an errand. Nakyoung said okay and left the salon.
Standing on the street, Nakyoung felt naked.
Instead of heading to the convenience store, Nakyoung took a moment to look at herself in the empty store window.
A jolt of electric shock washed over Nakyoung. It was only two or three hours ago that she had entered the salon Miji had booked. But in that short time, the existence of Lee Nakyoung had vanished without a trace, and Jenny, an illegal immigrant from Vietnam, had taken her place.
Nakyoung, her hands trembling, reached out to touch the glass, belatedly realizing that her own face was flushed red like maple leaves.
Her crotch, which had been tingling since the hairstylist had touched her, was already soaked.
"Ugh..."
Instinctively, Nakyoung's hand went to her crotch. She rubbed it lightly over her clothes, and a tingling, sensual pleasure bloomed from her lower abdomen.
It felt good. Nakyoung was unbelievably excited. Looking at her strangely ruined appearance. Sexually aroused, flushed.
This feels so strange.
It was difficult to deny her own feelings and sensations. Nakyoung hurriedly looked around. There were hardly any people on the street where the salon was located. After confirming that no one was passing by, Nakyoung roughly rubbed her crotch over her clothes again.
"Ah, hngh..."
What would people think if they saw Nakyoung's disgraceful behavior now?
Wouldn't they think that a prostitute from Southeast Asia had come out after seeing a customer and was relieving herself because she wasn't satisfied with the sex?
Nakyoung's reflection looked exactly like that. A woman from Southeast Asia, with a vulgar appearance that openly advertised herself as a prostitute, was scratching her crotch over her clothes like a bitch in heat, her face flushed.
The sight was so vivid and lewd that Nakyoung shuddered.
It was a sight that Nakyoung, even just a day or a few hours ago, couldn't have even imagined.
Why was her heart racing so much, and why was her vagina flooding with fluids as if there had been a flood? She couldn't understand. No, she was probably deliberately turning a blind eye.
"No..."
If she stayed still, she felt like she would be absorbed in masturbation until she peed, so Nakyoung gritted her teeth and forcibly took her hand away from her crotch and started walking again.
The convenience store Miji had mentioned was about a 5-minute walk away.
Nakyoung forced her trembling legs to move, walking down the street littered with flyers and cigarette butts.
When Nakyoung arrived at the convenience store, she couldn't help but hesitate for a moment. It was her first time in Japan going into a local store without a companion, and her appearance was completely different now. Moreover, when she glanced inside, she saw only a young male employee sitting blankly at a table.
It would be nice if she could use a vending machine or something, but since Miji had specifically told her to buy a drink from the convenience store, Nakyoung had no choice. She reluctantly opened the door and stepped inside.
"Welcome."
One of the biggest differences between Japanese and Korean convenience stores is that they never fail to greet customers.