Published: Dec 8, 2023

My sixty-third caption.

Cason is just an above-average American tourist in Japan, with dreams of eventually moving there and starting a family. A chance encounter with a strange, blond-haired woman changes everything in a single night.

All image credits go to Ngb

All image credits go to their respective artists. I have and never will claim ownership over any image I've used or modified for a caption, and I always encourage you to check out the artist and their wider body of work when possible.

Cason Keegan was loving his vacation to Japan, having grown up watching all the classic Hayao Miyazaki films and reading his fair share of anime and manga over the years. Even so, he didn’t consider himself a traditional “weeb”, feeling as if he had more respect for Japan’s culture and history than most others did. He had even put the effort into learning proper Japanese, even if he still wasn’t fully fluent in it yet. Though his eventual goal was to eventually move here and live a normal life, hopefully meeting a cute girl and starting a family, for now he was happy to be visiting for the first time, getting the chance to take in and appreciate the city of Kanazawa. Though most tourists went to Tokyo or Osaka, he’d decided to go to Kanazawa because it was more out-of-the-way, calmer, and featured some nice architecture in the Higashi Chaya District. If there was one thing he loved, it was historical architecture.

As he walked through the district a second time at night, admiring the warm lights and the scent on the air, he noticed something rather… unusual. There was a Japanese woman with long, blond hair walking towards him. While the hair itself was odd for a Japanese woman, the fact that she became laser focused on me the moment our eyes met was somehow stranger than anything else. I had to admit, it was hard to keep my eyes on her face. The woman sported a huge bust she seemed to be trying to hide with her coat, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing my arm tightly, startling me as she smiled.

“Hello handsome! Nice to meet you!” She said in English with a smirk, narrowing her eyes. She clung to me, not wanting to let me go. Even though her beauty had me stunned, I knew this wasn’t right and had to stop it. “You’re obviously not from around here. Interested in having a warm bed tonight?”

“Uh… this is obviously some kind of trap.” I remarked with suspicion, getting her to giggle. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’ll have to decline. Thanks!”

“Oh no, you’re not getting away that easily!” She glared, becoming far more threatening before blowing a handful of powder in my face. I coughed in the sudden cloud as I tried, and failed, to call out for help. As I fell to the ground, losing consciousness fast, I felt her quickly dragging me off of the street.

An unknown amount of time later, I began to wake up again, feeling as if someone had hit me with a truck. My vision was blurred, and as I felt around, I discovered I was on some bed, surrounded by soft sheets. Stranger still was the new pain in my back, and the feeling of hair on my face that certainly wasn’t there before. Rubbing my eyes with hands that felt far smaller, I finally noticed two, massive breasts hanging off of my chest! Suddenly thrown into a panic, I stumbled off of the bed, falling down thanks to my new center of balance, desperately looking around for a mirror to look at myself in. In the bathroom, I became terrified, seeing my new, girly face looking back at me. All I was wearing now was a sheer nightgown, which did nothing to cover me. Worst of all, I wasn’t just any girl, I was the same girl who had just drugged and abducted me off the street. There was a note attached to the mirror.

“Well gaijin, I suppose I should explain exactly what I’ve done to, or more appropriately, with you. I’m a witch, a yamamba. I’m certainly not going to go into any specific details since you decided to make things difficult for me, but I will tell you this much; I have taken your body, swapping our souls, to avoid some… trouble I’ve run into with the authorities. I’ve taken all your things, including your money, IDs, and passport. I will be ”returning” to the USA tonight, and no matter what you say or do, you will never find me again. I was going to let you have some fun with me before our little swap tonight, but you blew your chance out on the street. I’ve taken all your clothes as well, and no one will believe you if you tell them what has happened. Goodbye, and have fun!”

As you finished reading the last sentence on the paper, it suddenly burst into a blue flame. Two seconds later, there wasn’t even a speck of ash left, leaving you not only bewildered, but even more freaked out than you were before. Looking around the cheap hotel room, I came to the sinking realization that she hadn’t lied to me. All of my things were gone, stolen, including her own clothes which she had clearly taken out of spite and little else. My heart sunk.

I tried to sneak out of the hotel room, wrapped in a white bedsheet, but the old woman behind the counter, clearly already suspicious of “her”, almost immediately noticed me down the hall. “{Yā, mada shiharau hitsuyō ga arimasu!}” She yelled, clearly expecting payment that the woman hadn’t given her.

“I, uh… {Mōshiwakearimasenga, koin o motte imasen!}” I said in a further panicked flurry, hoping my pronunciation of “I’m sorry, I don’t have any money.” was correct as I tried to run past her. She clearly wasn’t having it, shouting “{Watashi no okane o kudasai!}” as she ran up and grabbed my sheets.

“No, please don’t!” I screamed, letting go of the sheets. She fell to the floor, leaving me exposed again as I ran away with nothing to hide my new body.

Once outside, I saw I was still in the Higashi Chaya District. The warm summer air meant I wasn’t going to freeze, but that didn’t change the fact that I was still trapped in some crazy woman’s busty body, with no clothes, no identification, and no money, in another country. I had nothing at all. I was screwed. I wandered into a nearby alley, sitting down on the ground and tucking my legs up to my cumbersome chest. I began to cry, feeling completely hopeless.

My moment to myself didn’t last long. As I sat there, tears running down my face, a man about my age noticed me from the street, walking into the alley.

“{Ma’am, are you OK?}” He asked in Japanese, kneeling down next to me as I flinched away from him. “{No, I’m not. Something terrible just happened to me, and there’s nothing I can do to change it.}” I replied back, that same feeling of hopelessness growing stronger. “{Please, just leave me here.}”

“{I’m not going to leave a beautiful woman like you here, crying on the street.}” He refused, holding out his hand towards me. I finally looked him in the eyes, seeing a kind, gentle expression on his face. “{Please, come with me. I can help you.}” I was still scared, but the choice was now obvious.

“{O-OK…}” I finally accepted, grabbing his warm hand as he pulled me back to my feet. With a single, flawless motion, he took off his shirt, pulling it over top of me and hiding my body to some extent. Now that he was wearing nothing but a tanktop, his muscles woke up some foreign feelings in my stomach.

Years later, I was still living with him, my dear husband, Juurou Ichirō. Even if it wasn’t in the way I wanted, I eventually found my new life, here in Japan.