Chapter 1 : Why did everything end up like this?

Warm air greeted me as I opened the living room door. The aroma of Souta's favorite grilled ham filled the room.

“Just got home?” Mom's voice greeted me from the kitchen.

“Yes, it was really busy in class today after we held the Fall Festival. I had to help the class president return the festival equipment that we borrowed from various places,” I replied. I headed to the empty sofa in the living room to relax. I saw Souta sitting there eating snacks and watching cartoons on TV.

I immediately lay down on the soft sofa, trying to relax after today's activities.

"Okay. Wait a minute. I'll finish this up, and then we can eat. Call your father in the yard in 40 minutes. He seems to be busy working on his garden again."

“Ehhh, he's still trying to continue making that garden? Won't that bring a lot of insects into the house?” Souta, who was sitting on the sofa next to me, replied.

"Mom doesn't know why he insists on making that garden either. After he saw someone doing it on the internet, he was like someone who had received an epiphany," my mother complained about my father's stubborn behavior.

I just listened to my mother and brother talking. I wasn't interested in joining in to complain about my father's behavior, which had been strange from the beginning. The sound of SpongeBob SquarePants cartoons filled the warm living room, along with the sound of my mother cutting vegetables in the kitchen.

I reached into my pocket and took out my cell phone. I opened a novel website and immediately searched for a novel that had caught my interest last night.

It was a generic novel about a harem protagonist named Kazehaya Kaito who was surrounded by many girls who liked him. He was an enthusiastic man who liked to help people, was kind-hearted, and was handsome by standard standards.

Although it seemed very ordinary for a novel, I felt a strong attraction when I found it last night, as if I would regret it forever if I didn't read it.

Finally, I decided to read it today while waiting for my mother to finish cooking.

The novel begins with Kazehaya Kaito, who has just entered high school. He and several of his friends agreed to attend the same high school, Hanabira Academy. It is a fairly elite school that allows freedom of expression as long as students maintain good grades. The teachers there do not restrict student behavior as long as they do not do anything bad or criminal. Many students who attend this school go on to prestigious universities.

Kaito's first day began when he met a girl wearing the same uniform who was repairing her bicycle. Kaito couldn't just leave her alone, so he immediately helped the girl fix her broken bicycle chain. Eventually, the girl and Kaito got acquainted while walking to the academy together. I read it until I realized 30 minutes had passed.

“A story that is truly generic, just like the title,” I muttered.

I noticed that there were still 10 minutes left on my phone's clock. My eyes felt a little tired after reading for a while, probably a side effect of staying up late last night.

“Souta, wake me up in 10 minutes. I want to close my eyes for a moment,” I said to Souta next to me.

“Hmm, sure, but after I wake you up, you have to call Dad in the yard,” Souta replied while munching on the snacks in his lap.

I rolled my eyes and answered, “Sure,” then placed my phone on the table. I immediately lay down on the sofa to rest my eyes for a moment.

*

There was a strange sensation the moment I closed my eyes. A sudden heat rose in my chest, and my ears could no longer hear the sounds of the cartoon series playing on the TV in the living room. The smell of ham that had filled the room was gone. I tried to open my eyes, but they felt very heavy.

“Aaaahhhhh—”

My chest suddenly tightened. My voice came out on its own. Air was sucked roughly through my mouth, intermittently. My body immediately bent over, my palms pressing against my chest, hoping the pressure would help, but instead another pain appeared—sharp, narrow, piercing deep inside.

Every breath triggered a sharp pain in my chest, forcing me to take short breaths before they could be fully filled. My knees weakened, and my body leaned forward, falling into a position of prostration.

My vision narrowed.

Several seconds passed—or perhaps longer—before the pain receded slightly. It didn't disappear. It just loosened enough to give me room to breathe. The muscles in my face felt stiff, as if the signals from my head were slow to reach them.

I opened my eyes. There was nothing but darkness.

Slowly, I realized that above my head hung the dim light of a broken lamp, too weak to illuminate anything clearly. I slowly scanned my surroundings, catching fragments of shapes around me. The room felt too small. Too cold. There was no sofa. No windows. Nothing that should have been there.

A damp smell filled the air, mixed with something sour.

A gray mattress lay on the floor, covered in brown stains. On top of it was a thin pillow that was almost flat, as if it had been pressed for too long.

Next to the mattress was a container of porridge. Several fish bones protruded from the surface, left untouched. A spoon lay tilted beside the container.

The container, the porridge, and the spoon were stained with a dark liquid.

I stared at it for a long time. Near the container was a small line leading to something shiny like glass. The glass was also smeared with a dark liquid.

Something felt wrong.

“What happened to me? Where am I?”

My body rested on both hands on the cold floor. The surface was slippery. I tried to lift myself up, but my arms trembled and I fell back down. It was as if my strength was simply flowing out of me.

I looked down. My palms were wet. They were dark under the dim light.

I rubbed my palms on the floor, but the stains didn't disappear. Instead, they spread. I took a short breath. My chest felt heavy.

I was silent for a long time, trying to understand where it came from. There was no one else in this room. There was no sound. Only my own irregular breathing could be heard.

The last thing I remembered was falling asleep on the sofa while reading.

“Hey, what are you doing? Why are you being so noisy?”

A voice came from behind the door of the room. It belonged to an adult woman, slightly hoarse.

Who was that?

I had never heard that voice before, but when the words reached my ears, something inside my body immediately tensed up. It was a feeling too familiar to ignore, and it made me freeze.

There was a click as the door opened. A blonde woman appeared, wearing revealing, flashy clothes. Her body was covered in a pungent perfume that stung my nose and made me feel nauseous.

As soon as my eyes caught sight of her, my whole body trembled. Something inside me reacted faster than my mind, as if a loud warning forced me to feel afraid of the person in front of me.

A loud sound suddenly exploded from the woman, rudely snapping me back to consciousness. The vibration still lingered in my ears.

“Hey, you stupid girl! What are you doing! Why are you yelling in the middle of the night like this, huh?”

My mind went blank. I didn't move, staying where I was. My eyes looked up at her, but my body felt too heavy to really react.

The woman approached me in a few quick steps. As soon as she arrived in front of me, her gaze immediately fell on my body, which was covered in dark liquid.

She screamed.

“Ahhh—! What are you doing, you stupid girl?! Why are you covered in blood!”

Her hand grabbed my hair and pulled it up, forcing me to lift my face. Her gaze moved wildly around the room before stopping on the pieces of glass on the floor, still wet with the same liquid.

“YOU TRIED TO KILL YOURSELF?!”

A burning sensation exploded on my right cheek. The slap sent my head flying to the side, and my body fell in the direction of the impact.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL GIRL, YOU TRIED TO DIE BEFORE YOU BECAME USEFUL, BEFORE YOU PAID FOR ALL MY HARD WORK, BEFORE YOU REPLACED ALL THE MONEY I SPENT RAISING A BRAT LIKE YOU?!"

A kick hit my body. The pain felt strangely familiar, spreading quickly before I could understand it. My body didn't respond properly, as if something inside me was holding back every command to move.

The kicks came again and again. I curled up unconsciously as the pain spread through parts of my body.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

A small voice spontaneously came out of my mouth as I received the blows. It was as if my body had a mind of its own.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my head, rudely snatching my consciousness back.

My hair was pulled.

The woman grabbed it viciously, dragging me out of the dark room without a care. My scalp felt like it was being torn apart as several strands of hair were pulled out at once, some of them simply ripped out.

I dragged my body across the floor without thinking, trying to reduce the pull as much as possible. Every small movement still made the pain in my head sting, and words of supplication came out of my mouth without me thinking.

“Stop... stop... please, don't pull my hair. I'll do anything. Please... Mom!”

Mom?

The word just slipped out of my mouth. I didn't recognize this woman's face, but my tongue knew what to say.

She was still pulling my hair. Amidst the heat spreading through my head, one thing felt strange—my hair was too long. Longer than I remembered.

A few moments later, my body was slammed against the wall. The impact pulled my hair roughly; several strands were immediately torn out, and my scalp felt sore, wet with something warm. The pain exploded suddenly, forcing me to scream.

“Ugh—”

“You useless girl! Look at all your dirty blood staining this floor. You'll clean it up later. Just you wait if there are any marks left!”

The woman I called Mother kicked me again. Sitting up, I raised both hands to protect myself, bracing myself for the next attack with my trembling body.

My mother turned toward a table filled with kitchen utensils. I was dragged along with her—only then did I realize that we were in the kitchen.

Her every movement in the kitchen made me hold my breath. The sound of drawers being pulled open and the objects inside clattering against each other was too clear in my ears.

I still had my arms raised in a defensive position when my gaze fell on my own skin. My arms looked too thin, unnaturally pale, with several bruises scattered here and there.

This body felt increasingly foreign. My fingertips unconsciously touched my hair—dull, and now reaching my shoulders. I never remembered my hair being like this.

My awareness of my changing body was interrupted by the sound of kitchen drawers being roughly pulled open. My mother continued to search for something, and each sound made my breathing more irregular.

“Where did I put that damn thing...” she muttered harshly. “You useless piece of trash. I wasted all my money just to keep you alive.”

She roughly rummaged through the kitchen drawers, pulling them open and closing them again in no particular order, as if she were sure the thing she was looking for was hidden in one of them.

“Finally found it.”

From a cabinet above the stove, she took out a triangular metal object. Its surface was dull. She placed it on the table and plugged it into the wall outlet.

“Take off your clothes.”

“Huh?”

“I SAID TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES, YOU STUPID GIRL!”

I didn't move. The command made my head go blank.

Her kick came suddenly. My body fell sideways before I had time to prepare myself, my breath knocked out of me.

She approached and grabbed my clothes, which were already stained with dark spots and dust. Her hands pulled the fabric roughly, as if she wanted to rip it off my body without caring.

I was silent. Not because I didn't want to fight back, but because my body wouldn't obey my thoughts.

The fabric came off my body and the cold immediately touched my skin. I curled up on the floor, reflexively covering myself with both arms, my breathing ragged.

My mother crumpled the clothes in her hands, then threw them toward the table without looking back at me.

I was silent, my mind in chaos, not really understanding what was happening. My gaze fell, following my own body.

There was an open wound on the front of my body. Blood was still flowing slowly from it, warm and sticky, as if the pain had just begun. I hadn't even noticed it before—my mind had been too busy chasing after the events that had befallen me.

But what bothered me most wasn't just the wound. The shape of this body felt wrong. The proportions didn't match my memory, what I should have had.

This isn't my body.

Whose body am I in?

And if this isn't me—who am I now?

My mother walked over to the table and picked up a triangular metal object. When I looked at it more closely, I felt uneasy, as if I had seen it somewhere before.

“I saw it on TV,” she said, holding the object. “War veterans in the old days, if their wounds weren't closed immediately, they could bleed to death. So sometimes the wounds were burned. It left scars, but at least they lived.”

Those last words made my head ring. Unwanted memories merged with the object in her hand. It wasn't ordinary iron. It was an iron—hot.

My gaze fell to the wound on the front of my body that was still bleeding, then back to her hand. I understood now what she wanted to do.

My breath quickened. Panic rushed in so fast that my mind went blank. I wanted to move, to get away, to do anything but stay here, but my body didn't respond.

I even hoped I could hit this body myself, force it to move, even just a little.

Mother approached and immediately grabbed my hand, which was blocking my chest. Her grip was firm as she pulled my hand aside, then brought the hot iron closer to my body.

I could see thin steam rising from its surface. I could feel the heat even before it touched me, as if the air around it had changed. My hand trembled violently in her grip, but her grip only tightened.

“Mother—”

The word died in my throat.

The iron descended slowly.

Too slowly.

I could see the distance closing little by little. I held my breath unconsciously, as if that would make time stop.

Then the heat touched my skin.

A scream burst from my mouth before I could even realize it. My own voice sounded foreign, broken, like someone else's. My body tensed up. My muscles resisted, my back arched backward, but my hands were held in place.

The smell hit me immediately.

Rotten. Heavy. Pungent.

Like flesh that has forgotten it is part of the body and turned into something else. The smell fills my nose, enters my throat, makes me want to vomit even before I fully understand the pain.

The heat is not just on my skin. It feels like it's being pressed in. Like something is forcing its way through my chest, pressing against my bones, entering inside. I can't breathe. I wasn't even sure if I was still breathing.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaa...”

I was still screaming, but my voice broke in the middle. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. My vision shook violently. The world around me narrowed to a single point on my chest.

The iron wasn't lifted immediately.

Every second felt wrong. Too long. Too close. Too hot.

When the iron was finally lifted, the air touched my skin and the pain shot through me. My chest pounded wildly, as if being beaten from within. I choked, taking short breaths that still felt insufficient.

The burning smell was still there. Stuck in my nose. In my throat. In my head.

The contents of my stomach rose without warning. I didn't have time to react. Hot, acidic liquid came out, mixed with food residue, falling to the floor.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU STUPID GIRL! YOU'RE MESSING UP THE FLOOR WITH YOUR DISGUSTING VOMIT!”

My mother screamed, but her voice was drowned out. The pain I felt overwhelmed all my senses.

My body convulsed violently. The pain was too much, piling up in one spot until my mind was chaotic. The sounds around me suddenly receded, as if covered by a thick layer of silence.

I was still sitting, my back leaning against something hard. My hands trembled uncontrollably. My head felt light, my vision began to blur, and the world in front of me shook erratically.

My breathing faltered. I tried to draw air, but my chest refused to expand fully. The burning smell still lingered, making my stomach churn again.

My body loses strength little by little. I slide down from my sitting position, leaning to the side without being able to hold myself up.

My mother's voice is heard, distorted, as if coming from far away.

“Hey, hey, wake up. Why are you just lying there, you silly girl. What happened... why is this happening. They didn't say she would faint.”

Her words passed by. I didn't really understand them. The pain was still there, pressing from within, but my consciousness could no longer bear it. Darkness crept into the edges of my vision. My head fell.

Then everything faded away.