chapter 2
chapter 2
Translated by POWERPUFF
Transfer Student
Wake up at 6 a.m.
Turning off the alarm and immediately getting up to prepare breakfast, this sequence of actions could be called a tradition of mine that has continued for nearly ten years, but today I was filled with irritation.
In a way, it’s nothing particularly special.
I’m always somewhat irritated.
I’m from a divorced family, but it seems neither of my parents particularly wanted custody of me. They found a semi-basement room and placed me there. I do receive monthly living expenses from both of them, but the amount isn’t generous, so I’ve been living quite a difficult life.
Not exactly an environment where stress can be relieved.
On top of that, what happened to me a year ago can also be considered a major source of my irritation.
After studying like crazy, I attended university on a full scholarship and, obsessively fixated on money, had managed to save up tens of millions of won by the age of 25, and then I ended up returning to the past.
For no reason at all.
Suddenly.
When I woke up, instead of the newly rented one-room apartment, a gloomy semi-basement greeted me.
Along with a frail 16-year-old body that was nowhere near comparable to my 25-year-old one.
Ah, still, returning to the past had been a joy at first.
That is, until I realized that all the knowledge of the future I possessed had become useless.
For some reason, Bitcoin never became popular, and I didn’t have the money to invest in stocks.
In truth, even before, I wasn’t someone interested in coins or stocks… but still.
I’ve been complaining quite a bit, but there’s still a bigger source of complaint left.
Because my regression didn’t end with just those things.
The common sense of the world had changed.
A gender-reversed world. A world where social perceptions related to gender—such as male and female sexual desires, notions of chastity, and various other gender-related norms—were completely inverted.
A setting that occasionally appears as a theme in web novels or comics.
On community sites, photos of scantily clad men circulate, women’s baseball and soccer have become mainstream sports, and sometimes you even see movements advocating for men’s rights.
For someone like me, who enjoyed web novels but didn’t particularly like gender-reversed settings, this was nothing short of hell.
My already lonely life had now forced me to give up on dating altogether.
Setting aside whether I could get a girlfriend or not…
Dating a feminine man was out of the question, and I couldn’t accept dating a masculine woman either.
Some might think that as long as the face is pretty, it’s fine.
……
You wouldn’t understand unless you’ve experienced it. It’s far more dreadful than you’d expect.
Anyway.
That’s how I came to live my life constantly attached to the word “irritated.”
I am Han Seunggi.
Still, the reason I was able to save up quite a lot of money was due to my persistence.
Even as irritation piled up, I would grumble endlessly, but I used that as fuel to live even more passionately.
Though I lost everything in an instant, it was likely because of that kind of personality that I was able to start over from scratch without giving in.
I’ve endured this kind of world for a whole year, haven’t I?
Enduring through it, I’ve now reached the respectable physical age of 17.
Moreover, although my circumstances were poor, I worked out quite diligently and ended up with a fairly decent body.
And yet, the reason I’m especially irritated today.
The reason I’m preparing breakfast with sluggish movements despite the irritation that has piled up.
It’s because of a single phone call two weeks ago.
A call from my mother, whose voice I don’t even remember.
It was about transferring to another school.
It seemed something had happened to the person who held my custody.
"Haah."
There was no need to move.
Both my previous school and the new one were equally far by walking distance.
Still. The person who had disappeared suddenly reappearing and then transferring me to another school less than a month after entering high school—what was that supposed to mean?
This time, it was hard to muster any energy. The stress had built up quite a bit.
I didn’t even understand how the transfer was suddenly finalized, but well, it’s fine.
That’s not something I can resolve by worrying about it.
It was quite infuriating, but as a minor, there wasn’t much I could do to stubbornly resist our financial provider, so I quietly went through the transfer procedures.
And so today, I was preparing for my first day at the new school.
Just recently, I was wearing a different uniform, and now putting on a new one made me feel somewhat unsettled.
Even the textbooks were all unfamiliar, which added to that feeling.
Transferring at the end of March. This had never happened in my previous life.
It seems life in this gender-reversed world is bound to be more arduous than before.
As I kept moving my feet briskly, students wearing similar uniforms began to appear as I approached the school.
Near me was a group of girls talking about games.
If I listened closely, I could hear various curses mixed in.
At that moment, one of them briefly turned her head and our eyes met…
Then she quickly looked away again.
Even in a gender-reversed world, it’s not like open sexual harassment or molestation happens frequently on the streets.
It’s not easy to come across people crazy enough to do such things.
It’s not that they don’t exist, but that’s the general idea.
…Or is it? Maybe it’s just me.
I don’t particularly dress up, and with my neat hair and glasses, I probably just look like a model student.
Even before my regression, I wasn’t particularly popular with women.
Still, I thought my body and face were fairly decent…
Though the mole beside my eye gives me a somewhat pretty-boy vibe, my physique itself is quite good.
……
Forget it. What’s the point of thinking about sexual harassment?
Especially when it comes from women who resemble men.
Back when I first came to this world, I experienced it once, and it left quite an unpleasant memory.
Not because the harassment itself was unpleasant, but because it felt like being spoken to by a middle-aged man.
Short hair cut moderately, glasses on.
An oversized school uniform I bought to accommodate my growing body.
I have no intention of going out of my way to dress up. I don’t have the money or the time for that.
Being well-liked by others isn’t important.
As long as I can live well on my own, that’s enough.
While thinking that, I eventually arrived at the school.
Honestly, I didn’t have any special expectations.
I’m not really a typical high schooler in spirit, and I’ve always been rather indifferent by nature.
Just… special events or not.
I hoped my three years of high school would pass without much incident, in a somewhat stable manner.
"I’m Han Seunggi. Nice to meet you."
Along with the sound of perfunctory applause, a man walked over beside me.
A slightly oversized uniform draped over his body, neat hair that was the definition of tidy, and ordinary horn-rimmed glasses.
A look that fit the term “model student” perfectly.
As for his face… he just seemed kind.
Not that I’m saying this because there’s nothing to compliment—his gentle eyes and inherently kind personality seemed to show through his face.
I’m sure everyone else was thinking the same thing.
To be honest, I had been a little hopeful when I heard a transfer student was coming.
I’m the only one in our class without a seat partner, sitting by the window at the very back, so naturally I expected he would become my seatmate… and I wondered if some special connection might form.
I’ve lived 17 years as a single person.
My friends celebrate anniversaries with their boyfriends and go out to have fun, while I’ve lived a rather dull life.
It’s not like I’ve just sat around waiting for fate.
I preferred natural encounters, but I had also dyed my hair blonde and maintained myself in various ways.
And…
Objectively speaking, I think I’m not bad, right?
Distinct facial features, well-maintained soft hair, and a body and figure that I’m proud of.
My friends say my somewhat fierce and intimidating expression is the biggest issue…
But there’s no way that’s true.
Surely it’s those guys I hang around with whose faces are the real problem.
Did they think I wouldn’t notice such a cunning scheme of shifting the blame onto me?
Anyway, I’ve gone on too long.
I had unnecessary expectations because of the transfer student, but as expected, it seems there’s no special connection waiting for me.
I’m not trying to nitpick or evaluate a man I’ve just met. It’s just that it doesn’t seem like we’ll have any reason to get close.
I’m someone who tries to enjoy my school life a bit.
Study moderately, make lots of memories.
Maybe it’s because my family is relatively well-off that I can think this way, but in any case, that’s just the kind of person I am by nature.
Someone who looks like they’d focus only on studying.
Someone who doesn’t seem interested in romance or having a girlfriend.
In short, too different in personality to get along with someone like this model student.
He probably thinks the same about me.
It’s not about who’s better or worse—our very natures are completely different.
Well, even with those thoughts, I greeted him after he sat in the seat next to me, and we exchanged some light conversation.
Simple topics like where he transferred from.
Basic manners, after all.
I’m not such an unfeeling person, and we would be sharing the same space for a while.
After that brief conversation ended, I leaned back against my chair.
The event that could have been something special had passed in a dull, uneventful way, leaving me with only the fourth period of the day—physical education before lunch.
Seriously. There’s nothing enjoyable in life.
According to the timetable I received upon transferring, the first period today was Korean.
As I took out my Korean textbook from my bag and waited, the classroom door opened and a teacher walked in.
In this world’s schools, the proportion of female teachers is relatively low, but for some reason, the first class was taught by a woman.
She appeared to be middle-aged, and to be honest, the word “auntie” came to mind first.
She was wearing some kind of orange-colored everyday hanbok—wasn’t that originally men’s clothing? Or is it unisex?
At first glance, she seemed like someone with a very strict personality.
Anyway, my seatmate, Min Arin, let out a small sigh at the teacher’s call to begin class and slowly started taking out her textbook.
Even without her dyed blonde hair, she had a rather fierce appearance. From our brief conversation earlier, she didn’t seem like a bad person, but separate from that, she didn’t appear very interested in studying.
But then.
Why does the textbook she took out have the word “science” on it?
And why is that teacher writing chemical formulas on the board?
No. Today was supposed to be a day without science classes.
What kind of timetable did the homeroom teacher give out?
Sensing something was wrong, I whispered to Min Arin.
"Hey, wasn’t the first period supposed to be Korean?"
"Ah, that changed a while ago. Didn’t the homeroom teacher tell you?"
"Ah…"
This is crazy.
I briefly rummaged through my bag to take out a notebook, thinking I might at least take notes, but no matter how I looked at it, it didn’t seem suitable for this class.
Suppressing the rising stress, I spoke to my seatmate again.
"Could I maybe share your textbook…?"
To think a day would come when I’d say something like this.
I had always been within the top five in the entire school.
Before my regression, I had even attended one of the top universities in the country as a model student.
A slight sense of self-deprecation.
For some reason, the teacher in the everyday hanbok writing chemical formulas with elegant hand movements suddenly seemed irritating.
Why is someone with that appearance teaching science instead of Korean?
This… doesn’t feel like a good start at all.