Chapter 0: Prologue

It’s an unfamiliar ceiling.

I must have fallen into a late sleep while looking forward to a pleasant weekend.

As someone who received a rather high salary, I woke up in a bed that seemed to be of even higher quality than the expensive one I had ordered with great care for my sleeping environment.

Since I was lying in such a high-quality bed, it seemed unlikely that I had been kidnapped.

“Where am I…?”

The voice, the wave of air resonating from a person’s vocal cords, is unique to each person, although not entirely, because everyone’s vocal cords are slightly different.

However, what came out of my throat now was a high-pitched, female voice I had never heard before.

Naturally, my eyes went to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room.

‘……What is this…’

A woman with pure white hair, bright brown eyes, a youthful face, a small stature, slender limbs, a slightly more voluminous chest, and smooth skin is reflected in the mirror.

I’m confused.

My head hurts.

What is happening?

A young man in South Korea, who studied in an ordinary high school, sacrificing his health and lifespan to enter a prestigious university, and who received a fairly high salary from a large company,

and who had a drink on Friday nights with a few, at most one or two, friends.

I was a fine young man of South Korea who had been living such an ordinary life.

My head hurts.

Memories I’ve never seen before flood my mind.

As if watercolors are being painted over, the original memories are replaced.

No, that’s not the right expression.

It’s not the concept of memories being forgotten.

It’s as if the memories that flood in are my original memories, as if the original memories were a movie, and they switch places.

It’s disgusting.

I don’t know what I ate, but I feel nauseous.

Although it’s a house I’m seeing for the first time, I run out of the familiar, no, the hallway I must have seen dozens of times, and rush into the bathroom.

“Ugh….”

It’s disgusting.

Something I ate yesterday, no, the sweets I definitely ate, are floating.

It’s disgusting.

I feel nauseous.

I’m confused.

My head hurts.

My eyes close.

Consciousness fades.

Something is forgotten.

“Ugh”

My consciousness fades.

And so she, I, lost consciousness.

“Ugh…”

My mind flickers, and once again, an unfamiliar ceiling appears.

“Are you awake?”

Next to the bed I’m lying on, a pink-haired, smaller, unfamiliar woman, no, Sumi Serina, a senior who graduated several months ago and entered the first year of high school, was wringing out a wet towel while staring at me.

“…Yes…Senior, I’m feeling a little better…”

“How did you collapse?

You always took such good care of your health, what happened…”

“I’m sorry.

I think I ate something wrong yesterday…”

It’s a lie.

Serina is a senior who dreamed of joining the Knights Hospitaller, and she is a senior who cares a lot about the health of those around her.

My current unstable mental state….unstable…am I unstable?

The confused memories and thoughts in my head were quickly organized as if nothing had happened.

The only difference is…I no longer feel the emotion of unfamiliarity.

To be precise, my original memory of a country called South Korea feels unfamiliar.

I’m not confused.

At the same time, I am confused.

The question of who I am now suddenly comes to mind.

I push the question aside for a moment.

If I explain this mental state, Serina will definitely not stay still.

“Sigh… There are no major health problems.

You need to rest because you are a bit overworked… The exams are over, right…”

While I was confused, the worried words that came with Serina’s sigh, the memories that were mixed up but now only switched places, explain the relationship between her and me.

We were quite close.

She answered my questions, went out to eat dessert at a cafe after school, and went to karaoke.

As she entered high school, the number of times we met decreased, but we kept in touch regularly.

“I’d like to say I want you to stay a little longer, but there’s no major problem, so you can be discharged.”

“Thank you, Senior…”

After saying goodbye to Serina, I return home.

Fortunately, it seems that only about three hours have passed since I collapsed.

As soon as I get home, I sit at my desk, take out the empty notebook at the outermost part of the bookshelf, and start writing down my original memories, which have now become unfamiliar.

I’m confused.

It’s hard.

I don’t have the same nausea and headache as before, but I’m still confused.

My reason screams that the office worker in South Korea is the real me, but my memories and emotions whisper that I am a prospective student at Trinity General School.

Even the realm of reason is gradually being influenced by the whispering voice.

But….something deep inside me is screaming at the top of its lungs that I shouldn’t.

But I don’t know how.

Has an ordinary person, no, an unusual person ever felt the sensation of their life being replaced?

That’s why I try to write it down first.

I try not to forget.

No, like watching a favorite movie over and over again, the previous memories are not forgotten.

But that’s why I write down my past self in a notebook so that it won’t be forgotten even more.

I feel a little…strange.

My mind was extremely confused, but in that short time, it became no longer confused.

Regret comes.

I definitely need help now.