Chapter 1: TS Middle School Girl’s Past Life.

I was a graduate student.

A physics student, at that.

The kind of place where you wouldn’t expect to see a single woman…or rather, there really weren’t any.

If there were any, they were closer to, literally, physics itself, rather than being women in body and mind.

That’s a nice way of putting it, but it’s awkward.

It’s just like this.

It’s like what we often hear when we’re walking down the street, or if someone asks what they look like,

They’d say, “They…Look like they’re good at studying!

They look like they’d be good at physics!” That’s what they’d hear.

What does it even mean to look like you’re good at physics?

What do they look like?

“..This doesn’t look like zumwun who’s good at physics.

This is for sure.”

Quite the opposite, actually.

Forget physics, anyone would say she looks like she’s bad at studying.

No, to be precise.

“I probably don’t need to study…………… if I’m this pretty.”

Yes.

That’s right.

I don’t know why, or the principle, or the reason, or the basis, or even the appropriateness.

I had become a woman.

“Is this…A school uniform?

High school?

Middle school…?

No, wait, this isn’t a Korean school uniform at all…………….”

A slightly greenish flower skirt spread out in front of the mirror.

The top is a long-sleeved white shirt, fresh like a spring day.

It has a light green pattern, the same as the skirt, only on the wrist area.

It’s a bit stiff, and maybe because it’s a little long, only the fingertips peek out from the sleeves…………….

Was it called a sailor uniform?

This isn’t a Korean school uniform at all………… a cosplay?”

I looked around my body reflected in the mirror.

Am I a little excited?

I gently jog in place,

And later, I even spin around in place, enough for my hair, which reaches a little past my shoulders, to flutter.

Like a figure skater possessed by Kim Yuna.

Of course, it wasn’t like Kim Yuna at all…………….

But my beauty was definitely not lacking.

Maybe I could even arrogantly say I was a step above…?

No, more than that,

“Why does my pronunciation sound like this?”

Oh my god, why does my pronunciation sound likes this, really.

Did the structure of my tongue not adapt when I became TS?

But did men and women have that much difference in tongue structure?

Is the difference between being able to tie a cherry with your tongue or not that big?

-Clang!

It was at that moment.

“Hey, Shizuko!

Are you still sleeping?

You didn’t forget that school starts today after the break, did you?!”

The door opened and an unknown woman barged into my room.

……………It’s ambiguous whether it’s even my room by definition.

But there was another fact that was even more unbelievable than that.

‘……It’s not Korean?’

I clearly understood what it meant as soon as I heard it.

It was interpreted immediately, no different from hearing it in Korean.

No, it was a step below interpretation.

Like in programming, when there’s no need to compile or convert the code written by a clumsy human into assembly language.

It was like understanding it directly, like hitting 010010101010.

Like a native speaker,

“Phew, so you were getting ready?”

I heard it so clearly.

Japanese.

“Hurry down and eat when you’re ready!

Aya-chan will be here soon!

You can’t keep your friend waiting on the first day of the new semester!”

It was the moment I heard those words.

“Ugh, ah…?”

My head suddenly hurt a lot.

If a life flashed before my eyes, it would feel like this.

My memories of 27 years of life in Korea as a single, incel, destined-to-be-cuckolded man.

And the memories of a Japanese middle school girl, only in her second year, swirled wildly in my head.

“Oh my, hey!

Hey Shizuko!

Are you okay?!”

Because I suddenly knelt down, grabbed my hair, and was in pain,

Shizuko’s mother was startled and genuinely worried.

However, after my headache subsided to some extent, I had no choice but to say this.

“Ah, ajumma………… no………… eomma………………”

“Wh, what are you saying Shizuko……………?

Shizuko?”

“Ah, no………… Okaasan………… my words…………… words…………… I………….”

“???”

There was a bug in my language center.

“Well, it seems like an acute stress-induced seizure.”

“Oh my…………….”

Mother.

To be precise, Shizuko’s mother was having a conversation with the doctor with a serious expression.

Unlike that, I had a completely relaxed expression.

It couldn’t be helped.

‘He he, tomorrow………… was lab meeting…………… now I don’t have to do that…………!’

TS or whatever, that was actually secondary.

I’m a middle school student.

Although my name has been changed to Japanese, and my gender identity and existence itself have been changed.

Anyway, it was lab meeting tomorrow, but I didn’t have to go.

No, not only tomorrow, but next week!

The week after next!

Next year!

‘I don’t have to get a Ph.D.

To avoid being drafted into the military anymore~!

A ha-ha!’

In Korea, there is a system called the Alternative Military Service System for Specialized Research Personnel.

It’s a system that recognizes military service if you complete a doctorate in the so-called s*ave life of graduate school.

You had to get a doctorate, and even after getting a doctorate, you had to go to a military company designated by the country for another year.

You had to do another year of s*ave labor.

But what could I do?

I was already old, and at that age, would you go to the military or become a s*ave, no, go to graduate school until you get your doctorate and then be stuck for another year after you get your doctorate?

When asked that, I was the one who chose the latter.

It was my choice, so it was my responsibility, and if that’s the case, then it’s just that and there’s nothing I can do about it.

It was just a matter of enduring it with grit and determination.

“Doctor……… will our Shizuko never be able to speak properly again…………?”

However, I was the only one who was happy to be freed from that s*ave life.

For Shizuko’s mother, it must be like a bolt from the blue.

Suddenly, her precious daughter is speaking gibberish, whether it’s Korean or Japanese, and she can’t even speak properly.

No, is the expression Shizuko’s mother a bit off?

She was my mother now, too.

However,

『The ego of a Korean who was a 27-year-old incel, but thanks to his all-in on studying, was planning to become a cuckold after getting his Ph.D.』

V.S.

『A Japanese middle school girl (2nd year) who lived a comfortable life.』

When these egos battled, the former naturally won.

It’s obvious just by looking at the descriptions, who would win.

An incel may be an incel, but he never loses in his ego.

You don’t even have to go to the front, just looking at the shape of the back, you can tell the aura of that incel.

This aura is so strong that when you go to a game festival like G-Star, you don’t have to worry about getting lost if you just follow that aura.

It’s difficult to say, but if you just look at it, it’s the so-called ‘nerd’.

“We’ll have to do more tests, like an EEG, CT, and MRI at a larger hospital to know for sure.

I’ll write you a referral.”

“I understand………… please.

Shizuko.”

“Yes(a).”

“Huh, why?

Are you uncomfortable somewhere else?

If so………”

“Ah, hello.

No, no.

yes.

No problem.”

I’m glad if you’re okay.

I’ll ask again, you’re not really just playing a prank or something, are you?”

It feels like this when you install both Korean and Japanese patches at the same time and they get completely mixed up.

Both my mother and the doctor watching the conversation between mother and daughter looked at me with strange eyes.

The former is more worried, while the latter is more suspicious.

Come to think of it, she said it was a new semester, right?

And since she’s in the second year of middle school, it’s also a time of storm and stress, so maybe she’s looking at me like a brat who’s playing a sophisticated trick to avoid going to school.

No, looking at it again now, it’s not suspicion.

When I was researching and experimenting, the face I made when I observed a phenomenon I couldn’t understand at all.

The expression of trying to explain it somehow by racking my brain was a perfect match.

“Doctor ”

“Ah, yes.

Is there something you’re curious about?”

“Suddenly, my head turning white like this………… is it medically possible?

To be?”

“Uh, um…….”

I’m not sure if it’s because of my idiotic Japanese or because of the question.

The Japanese doctor, who seems to have been hit in the bull’s eye, grimaces with a more serious expression than before.

“…………There’s something called Marie Antoinette Syndrome, but I’ve never seen it in real life.”

Even now, my, Shizuko’s, black hair was turning white in real time.

It’s not that new white hair is growing, but the original black hair is turning white.

It’s already more than halfway through, and the black hair in between is like a pattern, like the fur of a white tiger.

“Have you had any recent events that could have caused extreme stress?”

“Umm.”

Something that could cause stress.

“My biggest worry recently is, in continuous variable based quantum computing, the stabilizer form, surface code,

Syndrome measure, and error correction parts are theoretically complete, but I’ve been stuck for two months on the part where I entangle the fault tolerant logical quits built with that surface code………… ah.”

Before becoming a TS Japanese,

I had been thinking about related research for over two months, before going to bed, while pooping, while peeing, while eating, just while existing,

The side effects of the so-called “eat, poop, physics” came out without me realizing it.

Even on a recent blind date, I answered the question, “You have a very serious expression, what are you thinking about?” like that, and we couldn’t even eat together and broke up at the cafe, yet I still haven’t come to my senses.

“Quantum……?”

“Sh, Shizuko……!”

The Japanese doctor, who couldn’t possibly lose in a knowledge battle as a doctor, tries to understand the content of my words itself,

And our Shizuko, my mother, who is worried again because words that shouldn’t come out of a second-year middle school daughter’s mouth are coming out.

If this continues, I might end up going to a big hospital, going beyond admission, and being locked up in a mental hospital…………… I felt that kind of crisis.

‘I need to remember the hard times when I was Shizuko, not the hard times when I was Korean………… Ah!’

At that moment, a very intense scene of Shizuko’s memory flashed through my mind.

It was a scene where Shizuko was sobbing in bed, afraid, while looking at Japan’s KakaoTalk, Line.

“Th, then, I realized that b*tch Miune or whatever was trying to make me a prostitute to make money by selling my body!”

Immediately after that statement, the next destination was not a large hospital, but the police station.

……………She said it was a new semester, but when is this girl going to school?