A Taste of Youth

The girl ran toward the starting point. Having always been the type who was perfectly content playing alone, I used to thoroughly enjoy single-player games. I launched a few games in offline mode—titles I’d bought ages ago but never actually played—cracked open a can of beer, and tipped it back.

The first taste was incredibly bitter. While the cool carbonation fizzed pleasantly against my palate, a strange, murky aftertaste on the tip of my tongue made it impossible to swallow. "Ack!" I coughed, the reaction entirely involuntary. The beer sprayed from my mouth in every direction, as if my body were violently rejecting the tiny drop that had slipped down my throat. Flustered by this utterly unexpected reaction, I hastily set the can down.

"Are you alright?" Lamonax asked, casually sliding into the seat next to me and handing over a box of tissues. I snatched them up in a panic, frantically wiping down my clothes and the computer desk. I had no idea a body swap would prove this inconvenient. I could tolerate craving sweets more than usual, but I never imagined that drinking a simple beer would prove to be such an ordeal.

I tossed the soggy tissues into the trash and picked up the can again. My tiny hands looked comical, wiggling as they tried to grip the massive aluminum cylinder. It felt absurdly large. This time, I cautiously stuck out the tip of my tongue to dab at the liquid. The instant the flavor and aroma hit my taste buds, my face screwed up in disgust. I had wanted to get a nice, pleasant buzz going while I played, but that was looking like a lost cause.

"Would you prefer a soda?" Lamonax asked, rising from his seat and heading toward the refrigerator. There were still drinks left over from his shopping trip yesterday, and while I could have easily settled for one, my pride refused to let me back down. Squeezing my eyes shut, I forced myself to drink. The icy liquid slid down my throat. The bitter aftertaste wafting up into my sinuses nearly made me gag, but I managed to choke it down.

"Ugh...!" I gasped, slamming the empty can down with a heavy sigh. My stomach felt bloated and uncomfortable. "No, I'm fine. That's plenty." Lamonax, who had been returning with two glasses, shrugged and set one aside. As I kept playing, the alcohol began to creep up on me, and I rubbed my palms over my face. The buzz was hitting me far harder than it had any right to. I checked the label of the empty can, but it was definitely the same brand I always drank. During a loading screen, the monitor went black, reflecting the image of a flushed, red-faced young girl staring back at me.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I want to drink more," I replied, rubbing my flushed cheeks. My soft, doughy face squished easily under my palms. "But I get the feeling that if I have another, I'll open my eyes and it'll instantly be tomorrow morning."

I paused to contemplate my options. The taste had been awful, but the warm, fuzzy buzz was already whispering for more alcohol.

"Should I have another?"

"I don't think that's a particularly good idea," Lamonax said, scribbling something in a small notebook. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠He seemed to be working on whatever task Dr. Hebrum had assigned him. Looking up at him, I relented and accepted the glass he held out. It was a massive mug, requiring both of my hands to hold, filled to the brim with fizzing, carbonated cola.

"You want me to drink this instead?"

"Yes."

With a small sigh, I tipped the mug back and chugged the soda. The sweet, icy, sharp bite of the carbonation was an instant, perfect match for this young girl's palate. I smacked my lips, savoring the taste, and looked up at Lamonax.

"This body I'm using right now... it's identical to the test subject's, right?"

"Most likely. Dr. Hebrum was the one who engineered it, after all."

"Then do you think she'd find cola delicious too?"

Lamonax's eyebrows twitched at my question. A brief, heavy silence settled between us before he slowly answered, "I suppose she would."

Maybe it was the alcohol talking. Normally, I wouldn't have given the test subject a second thought, but now her image lingered at the edge of my vision, refusing to fade. "How old was she when she first came here?"

"Who knows." Lamonax scratched his cheek, deliberately averting his eyes. His gaze wavered. He clearly knew something about her.

"Come to think of it, I don't even know her name."

"Her name?"

"I can't keep calling her 'the test subject' forever."

"You've been doing just fine with it up until now."

"Well, yes, but..." My voice trailed off as I looked up at him. Toying with the empty mug, I thrust it forward with both hands. "Refill, please."

"I don't think she has a name. She's only ever been referred to by ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her subject number," Lamonax replied, pouring more soda into my outstretched mug. The sharp, crackling sound of the carbonation made my mouth water.

"I think I might end up liking cola more than beer."

"To be fair, cola suits that appearance of yours a lot better than beer."

I set the mug down on the desk and rested my chin in my hands, feeling the soft, plush give of my cheeks. I idly swung my short legs, which dangled far above the floor. "I see."

Only now did I realize why the convenience store clerk had hesitated so much to ring up my purchase. We spent the rest of the evening chatting about trivial things until Lamonax finally headed back to his own room late at night. After seeing him out, I grabbed one more can of beer from the fridge and slumped back into my chair. Pshhh-clack! That was the last sound I remembered from that night.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The faint, persistent blare of my alarm dragged me awake. I sat up, trying to smooth down my wildly tangled hair, and looked around the room. Empty cans littered the floor, rolling around with every slight breeze. I must have drunk way more than I realized. And beer cans weren't the only things scattered across the floor—there was also a torn bag of chips, its belly ripped open to spill its contents onto the carpet.

Clutching my throbbing head, I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled into the shower. I knew I needed to clean up the mess, but my hangover-laden body refused to cooperate. In the full-length mirror inside the bathroom, a white-haired girl stared back at me. Her skin, flushed a rosy pink from the hot water, gave her a remarkably healthy glow. Standing there with a weary expression, I slowly curled the corners of my lips upward into a smile. It looked surprisingly nice. Suddenly, a thought struck me: I wanted to see the actual test subject girl smile like this, not just my own reflection.

After a quick shower, I stepped out and began the tedious task of blow-drying my hair. Managing long hair was an absolute nightmare. Once that was done, I dragged my exhausted body around to roughly tidy up the room. My sluggish limbs practically screamed for more sleep. Deciding to spend my reading time napping instead, I grabbed a small pillow and tucked it under my arm. Clutching the book I had borrowed yesterday, I headed out. The hangover had completely killed my appetite for breakfast, but the memory of yesterday's cola lingered. Perhaps the sight of a young girl wandering the corridors with a pillow was a rare spectacle, because the staff members stared at me, their eyes glued to my figure until I finally turned the corner.

I stopped by the convenience store and reached for a can of cola, only to hesitate. Not one, but two. My hands grabbed both cans and carried them to the counter. "Just these, please."

The clerk, who had been idling on his phone, looked up at the sound of my voice. Our eyes met. He glanced back and forth between the two cans of cola and my face, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. Leaving the convenience store, I made my way to the library. The moment I pushed the door open, the rich, comforting scent of old paper washed over me. After a quick scan of the room, I tossed yesterday's book onto the return cart and slipped back out. Walking down ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the corridor, I passed Dr. Hebrum's laboratory. The lights were completely off; he was likely still asleep.

This was the start of Day 3. Stepping into the observation room, I flicked on the lights, sank into the chair, and picked up the microphone. The girl was already awake. Even though I hadn't said a word yet, her eyes were locked onto me. Feeling a strange, inexplicable awkwardness under her gaze, I looked away for a moment before pressing the microphone's power button. The familiar static hum of the speakers crackled to life, signaling that the audio was connected.

"Hello?"

As expected, silence. I threw out a few of my usual questions, but not a single sound came back in return. As I sat there in a daze, a thought suddenly struck me: in the entire year I had spent watching her, I had never once asked for her name.

"What's your name?"

The girl reacted instantly. Her eyes widened. Though her gaze remained locked onto me, she stood up and pressed her hand against the glass partition.

"Do you have a name?"

Her lips parted. I could see her small tongue moving inside her mouth. My heart began to beat a little faster. It had been a whole year since I last heard her voice. The sheer anticipation of finally learning her name made my chest swell.

"Tell me your name," I urged once more.

And then, she spoke.

"Shine."

Or at least, that was the name I thought I heard.

Pop!

The speaker suddenly exploded with a deafening bang. I clamped my hands over my ears and collapsed to the floor. A high-pitched ringing pierced my skull, and my vision swam, throwing off my sense of balance. On the other side of the glass, the girl had taken the exact same posture, clutching her ears. Yet, her eyes never once wavered from me. Guards rushed into the room. Seeing me huddled on the floor with my hands over my ears, they looked up at the shattered speaker dangling from the ceiling. They later claimed it was a simple hardware malfunction. But a speaker blowing out the exact second I heard her name? Was that really just a coincidence? Staring at the newly installed speaker, I turned my gaze back to the girl. Was her name really Shine?

I clicked the microphone back on. "Shine?"

I called out, but she didn't respond. The very next second, sparks crackled right in front of my eyes. My telekinetic power had flared up completely on its own. Startled, I frantically looked around, but thankfully, none of the surrounding equipment seemed to be damaged. What a relief. If I accidentally unleashed my power in a room packed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with this much expensive machinery, the bill for the damages would be astronomical, which was why I was always so careful. Exhaling a long sigh of relief, I gave Shine a small wave. It felt as though letting anyone else know her name would be a terrible mistake. Why? It was just a gut feeling. But I felt absolutely certain of it. Scratching my cheek at the bizarre sensation, I switched off the microphone and slumped back into my chair. The sleep deprivation was catching up to me. With my limbs feeling like lead and my head still throbbing, I quickly drifted off to sleep.

By the time I opened my eyes, it was almost time to clock out. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I wiped my mouth and picked up the daily report.

I checked off all the boxes, waved goodbye to Shine, and slipped out of the room. As I walked down the corridor, I realized I had completely forgotten to give her the cola I bought. It was probably still sitting on my desk, but since I had already swiped my staff card to exit, I couldn't go back inside. Before returning to the dorms, I stopped by Dr. Hebrum's laboratory to hand over the report.

"Any inconveniences?"

"Tons. Absolutely tons," I grumbled, waving my shortened arms up and down to emphasize my point.

Dr. Hebrum looked down at me and burst into a hearty laugh. "Just endure it for four more days."

With a heavy sigh, I turned toward the exit. "I'm heading out, then."