Prologue: I Was a Reincarnator
I was a reincarnator.
I wasn't anyone special in my previous life. I was just an ordinary young man from South Korea. The kind who lost his parents a bit too early and had to make it on his own. Because a child's failings reflect on their parents, I didn't want my late mom and dad catching flak because of me, so I gritted my teeth and tried to live even more diligently, even more upright. All so those two, who had to leave me—a young boy—behind and head off on that long journey first, wouldn't be too sad or worried up in heaven.
I threw myself into exams before I could even fully grieve their deaths, got into a top university, graduated, and landed a solid job. I prided myself on living more diligently and breathlessly than anyone. Up early every morning for work, known at the office as reliable and capable, earning respect and admiration as a proper member of society. Weekends were for catching up on chores and prepping for the week ahead, with whatever time was left for simple hobbies like gaming or working out. I was your everyday hardworking guy.
The only regrettable part was how pathetically it all ended—a car accident on a rainy road. If I'd known it would be so anticlimactic, I'd have cut myself some slack, taken better care of myself. That lingering regret colored my reflections on life as I lay dying: after my parents passed, I'd buried my grief and loss rather than facing it head-on, leaving me with a drab, lonely existence.
And with those thoughts and regrets as my finale, I died... only to somehow start a new life in another world. As Yoon Yoon-hee’s one and only son, Yoon Jae-hyun, the child she adored beyond measure.
How did I realize I was reincarnated? It wasn't some dramatic trigger like in light novels or anime protagonists. It just seeped in gradually, unconsciously, as I was born and grew up. Over those long years when a child's sense of self and values take shape, I must have been subtly influenced by memories of my past life. So even though this world seemed perfectly normal to everyone else, to me it was a reversed world compared to the one I knew.
A place where the male-to-female ratio was 1:6, gender balance be damned. But here, that imbalance was taken as a given. Women were naturally stronger physically than men, with fiercer libidos. Men, being so rare, got subtle considerations and privileges in society without even trying. I understood this as common sense, the natural social structure... yet my mindset and values still leaned toward my previous life.
"Yoon Jae-hyun's mom must be over the moon. How's she got such a sweet, pretty son?"
"Hehe, right? He's my pride and joy!"
Thanks to that, I was something of a local celebrity kid. Not just well-behaved and mature for my age, but a boy who smiled with crinkly eyes, spoke oh-so-prettily, and loved snuggling up to his mom with some aegyo. In this reversed world of women, I was like a unicorn—overpowered specs that could get me hate for being too perfect.
"Pfft. I'm your brag?"
"Of course! My Jae-hyun's the world's greatest treasure."
"Ooh, really? Honestly, same here. I'm so glad you're my mom!"
Unlike some moms who spoiled their sons rotten just because they were boys, mine didn't coddle me. Her cooking was a bit iffy at first, but she practiced tirelessly to make meals I'd love, improving by leaps and bounds. She always said I was the best thing in her world, thanked the heavens for giving her me as her son, and loved me more than anyone. Being her son made me truly happy.
And because I was so happy, I couldn't help but love my second-life mother just as fiercely. How could I not feel every ounce of her devoted, warm maternal love? Having lost my family early once before, it moved me to tears—irreplaceably precious.
-2-
Kids grow up fast. The tiny little squirt had shot up into a 19-year-old high school senior on the cusp of graduation.
I was still my mom's pride and treasure, and we remained the mother-son duo everyone in the neighborhood envied for our closeness. But life can't stay all sunshine and peace forever.
"Jae-hyun, hold on a sec..."
After third period chemistry, during break, my homeroom teacher called me over. Her face was graver than usual. A bad feeling hit me instinctively.
"Jae-hyun, have a seat."
Her voice carried an uncharacteristic weight.
"Your mom... she collapsed suddenly this morning and was rushed to the hospital..."
From that moment, her words faded into the distance. Heart attack. ER. And in the end... she passed. Even as the teacher finished, I just sat there, dazed. It didn't feel real.
Just hours ago, she'd been giggling at me scrambling to get ready after sleeping in. She'd insisted on shoving a piece of toast in my mouth as I bolted out the door, waving me off with a smile: "Be careful with the car! Have a good day at school. Mom's making your favorite pork stir-fry for dinner, so don't be too late!"
Her shout chasing my frantic sprint down the street—could that really have been her last words? I hadn't even tossed back a casual reply. If I'd known, I'd have let school wait, hugged her like always, told her to have a great day at work. But regrets always come too late, and that's what makes them sting so much.
I was alone again—just like that.
-3-
The funeral home was quiet, sparsely attended. No surprise—Mom and I were each other's only family.
A few close neighbors, her coworkers, my homeroom teacher, and some classmates stopped by out of courtesy. Still, it was a relief. At least others came to see my mom off besides me.
Late that night, after the guests left, I was alone in the silent hall. Staring blankly at her portrait, I let out a hollow chuckle. Some fate, huh? In my past life, I'd lost my parents to a car crash around this age. Now, in this one, my sole family had left me too.
"Mom... I'm so glad you were my mom."
Tears fell in drops. Maybe it was my fault she'd gone so young, caught up in my cursed luck, her life cut short. Guilt gnawed at me.
In the empty funeral home, I finally broke, sobbing raggedly. I cried and cried. Sorry for making her leave me behind, but I couldn't hold it in.
"Hic... huuh... M-Mommm~"
Exhausted, my wails turned to whimpers like a little kid. The ache of knowing she'd never hold me again was unbearable.
But I couldn't wallow forever. The silver lining? I'd been through this once before. The brutal void after losing someone irreplaceable never gets easier, but past experience helped me claw through it.
I roughly wiped my tears with my sleeve, sucked in a deep breath—hic!—and let it out. Time to stop crying. My doting mom would worry the whole way, shedding more tears than me.
"Mom. I'll... live well. So you won't feel sorry or worried. Go on without a care."
Before the procession, I gave her one last brave goodbye, clutching the frame with her photo in place of her warmth.
As I saw her off, I vowed: Even alone again, this life would be different. No more burying the grief like before. No letting it fester. No more secret struggles with depression and loneliness despite my upright ways. This time, I'd live properly, fully human. So she wouldn't feel sorry, worried, or sad—I'd thrive. Chewing over that promise amid tears, I endured the pain.