Kenji gazed upward in surprise as the now-commonplace signs of disaster struck, brittle chunks of cement tumbling down from above--swiftly he dived out of the way of the debris, his limber thirteen-year-old legs propelling him through the chaos of the mob.
Fifty feet above a gigantic face loomed down upon him, an enormous, brown-eyed face free of blemish that tapered down into an adorable little chin and a catlike smile, the giant's button nose unmistakable--a boy, equal in age to him, but fifteen meters in height, and nude save for a crinkling pearly article adorning his buttocks and a fuzzy ornament of cat ears.
Taking a brief moment to gather his confidence, Kenji reached into the pocket of his jacket and produced the dreaded item; an equally fuzzy headband, bearing two claret triangles on it.
The moment the band touched upon his head of black hair, Kenji was brought up to equal measure with the other boy, stripped of all clothing save the diaper he bore in both forms, his hair now an adorable carmine shade; he took careful steps to the antagonist, whom now had his back turned, oblivious to the hero, presently sitting upon the battered streets flying an airplane--with people in it--through the air.
The hero of justice paused briefly to regard his target--the boy, much like he had when he first gained these powers, was completely innocent, unaware of the destruction he was causing; consumed by the childish innocence the kitten accessories installed in oneself, he thought of the world as little more than an enormous dollhouse. Kenji, too, had been like that once--he wouldn't let those tragedies be repeated again.
Normally, Kenji the Hero would come onto his enemies with the distinct intent to kill, outright violence breaking through the city--but this was different. This wasn't a simple monster; it was another human being, and a potential ally in his quest for justice.
Thus, Kenji the Hero set to work.
He reached out, taking hold of the plane and gently arresting it from the other boy, setting the plane down and swiftly pulling up the child, a single discourteous blow snapping across his face; Kenji next set about to set the boy down and lecture him--only to gather him up once more at the last second, realizing his folly. In a state of tears, the fellow giant would only collapse to thrash about the ground, harming more innocents.
"You can't go around doing things like this!" Kenji attempted at scolding him, pulling the other boy into a tight hug, "You're supposed to use your powers for justice, not rampant destruction..."
You acquired quite a vocabulary, being a Hero of Justice.
Amidst the cooing cries and the sighs of relief the citizens below gave off--and the flashing of cameras--Kenji noted the growing stain that had spread across his enemy's diaper; as the other boy returned to normal size by command of the cat-ear's binding magics, so did Kenji, both of them now huddled in the isolated confines of a tight alleyway, reclothed, cat-ears in hand.
"What's your name?" Kenji inquired, attempting to comfort his wounded enemy with a gentle ruffling of hair; in giant form, they were the same size, but as regular boys, Kenji dwarfed him by nearly a foot.
"M-matsuda." The boy dribbled out, still in tears.
"We need to talk. Come to my house?"
Matsuda responded with a pitiful nod.
"Well now."
Kenji flinched at the tone of the voice--as his mother, the woman that towered over him now was the only one aware of his alter ego, and not the least bit happy about it to begin with; "A lady can't just romp around in her diapers!" She had scolded him in the past.
Oh, that was the other thing. He'd been raised as a girl for the past twelve years.
More to his worry, she had most likely seen him smack Matsuda--Kenji had never been one to get into fights, or into any trouble at all really, but he was certain that she considered this over the line.
Though really, I tear apart giant pandas on a daily basis...
"Kenji, you did wonderfully." Mama surprised him with a proud smile, patting his head--he'd been expecting punishment, not praise, "You took control of the situation right away. I'm very proud of you."
'Proud of you' was a phrase that had become unfamiliar to Kenji since he had first donned boy's clothes--he relished in the phrase's glorious implications, enjoying the mere notion that he had at last pleased his mother.
"You on the other hand."
Mother cut short his brief reverie, marching over to Kenji's newfound ally--he watched helplessly as she took hold of the boy's wrist, scowling at him menacingly.
"Do you have a mother at home?"
"N-no..."
"A father?"
"Only past nine..."
"You should be in bed by nine."
"I am..."
"So you never see him."
"R-right..."
Without another word, mother tugged the boy along into a back room, Kenji wincing as the noise of her scolding broke through; two cringe-worthy slaps tore the air, most definitely not coddled by the likes of a cushioning silky diaper, mama's voice somehow rising above her subject's shrieks.
Every moment a millennia, Kenji was glad when the spanking finally ceased and the silence ensued; an occasional sobbing sound squeaked through the crack in the door, swiftly silenced by gentle hushing noises--and in a few minutes, mama emerged, carrying Matsuda's slumping form in her arms, deprived of his shorts in favor of the simple diaper.
"Kenji, go change your clothes and get ready for dinner." Mother instructed him calmly--he didn't miss a word of the sentence, knowing what 'clothes' very well meant, "Matsuda needs some attention, so don't disturb us unless it's an emergency, alright?"
"Y-yes mama." Kenji bowed low, eager to race off to the comforting pastel colors of his room, the heart-adorned wallpaper and the frilly dolls--he'd never been spanked before, and just hearing Matsuda's penalty made him all the more certain he didn't want one.
"And Kenji." She cut him off just as he was about to depart for his room, bringing a whole new wave of worries his way, "Don't bow so low. It's not very boyish."
Her contradictory words brought comfort to Kenji as he bolted up the stairs to the waiting frills--maybe there would come a day when he could choose not to pick out a skirt to wear every time he came home.
Home 
