Chapter 2 : Lee Haram ?

Let me get this straight.

I, Lee Haram, had regressed to an age where I was just about to join school.

And with memories of my past life.

There was one problem, though.

I looked at the mirror on the desk with a sullen expression.
Undeniably, the reflection was that of a girl.

‘A girl, of all things.’

The name my family called me, the unchanged surroundings, and the distinct shape of my eyes confirmed that this was me.

But the most crucial aspect, my gender, had changed.
Having lived as a man for 30 years, now a woman? It made me sigh deeply.

“…Pretty, though.”

It was somewhat comforting that the face in the mirror was beautiful, comparable to my ideal type.
Honestly, with a little exaggeration, I could pass for a celebrity.
Losing a man’s precious possession in exchange for becoming this level of alpha female? I almost felt it was a fair trade.

And most importantly, unlike my past life, I still had a loving family.
I wasn’t one to dwell on the past, but the future was an entirely different matter.
I refused to experience the same tragedies again.

So, what should I do?
Joohyun’s words just before my death suddenly came to mind.
[Change.]

“…Do *I* need to change?”
In my past life, I wasn’t accustomed to expressing my emotions and rarely spoke more than necessary.
However, knowing the consequences, shouldn’t I learn from my past self?

But how?
Fortunately, I had an excellent example in my memories.

Someone who was always nosy, smiling brightly, and radiating positive energy.
That person was Joohyun, my junior colleague.
Come to think of it, she always seemed to be smiling except when we were at the bar together.

‘Are expressions that important?’
I decided to start by practicing smiling.
I lifted the corners of my lips and softened the muscles around my eyes.

“Is this… okay?”
I tried to replicate her smile from memory, but I wasn’t sure.
Just then, the door creaked open, and someone appeared who could evaluate my efforts.

It was my sister, Lee Hayul.
Or should I say, *older* sister now.
She yelled at me angrily,

“Hey, Lee Haram! You stole my cardigan again, didn’t you?”
“…Huh?”

I turned to her, maintaining the practiced expression. A flicker of bewilderment crossed her angry face before silence descended.
Hayul abruptly turned and ran out, her voice echoing from the kitchen.

“Mom! Call 119! No, call a shaman! Lee Haram is possessed!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Mom, come look at your daughter’s face. It’s weird.”

Based on my blood relative’s scathing review, I quickly reached a conclusion.
Yeah, let’s put this on hold.

I briefly considered giving up, but I slapped my cheeks and shook my head.
Too much was at stake to give up now; I needed to be determined.

With renewed resolve, I closed my eyes and conjured an image.
A cheerful and upright personality, loved by everyone.
A considerate heart, always thinking of others.
An optimistic nature, easily forgetting worries.
I used the positive influences I received from Joohyun in my past life as colored pencils, painting them onto my face.

Expressing genuine emotion was impossible for me, hardened after 34 years of living as a stoic man.
But if I couldn’t genuinely smile, I could craft an ideal version of myself and act it out.

I opened my eyes after mentally painting every part of my face with bright colors.
The girl in the mirror was wearing a natural, happy smile.

***

“Mom’s Kimchi Stew! I love you, Mom.”
“Mom’s pretty good at cooking, huh?”
“Yeah. Just ditch Dad and marry me.”
“Should I? I’m much more attracted to our Haram than that grumpy, pot-bellied old man.”
“Yeah, just the two of you should move out. Dad won’t give you a single penny anyway. Figure it out.”
“Hey, honey, I’m just kidding.”
“Really, Dad? Are you sulking?”

Mom laughed, handing Dad a glass of water.
My sister pretended to gag as if she had seen something disgusting, shaking her head.
My family, initially disconcerted by my brighter personality, quickly adjusted, and it became our new normal.

Dad looked at the stew in the center of the table and said,
“Hayul’s mom, is there any beer left?”
“Hold on, I think there’s some in the fridge.”

Remembering my past life, I spoke up,
“Dad, can you not drink?”

Mom, returning with the beer and glasses, answered for him.
“Haram, your dad lives for this little pleasure.”
“Tell him to find another hobby, Mom. Scold him a little. It’s not good for his health.”

My family laughed off my words as a joke.
I just smiled wryly.

“Come to think of it, isn’t Haram starting school next week?”
“Probably?”
“What do you mean ‘probably’? Do you need anything?”
“Your daughter is meticulous, ma’am. Don’t worry.”

I was going to attend the same high school as in my past life.
Hyesung Industrial High School.
A decent school, but not particularly outstanding in terms of outcomes. Just average.

Despite the fading memories, I knew precious moments existed within those walls.
I couldn’t recall everything, but a tingling sensation in my chest hinted at something cherished.

***

Time flew by, and it was the first day of school.
The clock hand pointed to 6:30.

Simultaneously, I heard my mother’s voice waking me up.

“…Five more minutes.”
“Haram, it’s 7 o’clock. You’ll be late if you don’t get up now.”
“…Really?”

I bolted upright and checked my phone.
The digital clock clearly displayed 6:31.

I used to wonder how I managed to wake up early for school.
Experiencing it again, I understood why.

Just as a shopkeeper couldn’t stop every thief in the world, there was someone in our house dedicated to devising wake-up strategies.
I yawned and grumbled,

“…Liar.”
“Come eat breakfast.”
“I have to give you credit for your sense, ma’am. Nothing beats hot seaweed soup for breakfast.”
“Our daughter has such a pretty face, but she talks like an old man.”

Mom frowned at me.
It was the same expression she wore when she squashed cockroaches. I felt the urge to flee to a safe place, like under the still-warm covers of my bed.

I hurriedly ate, washed up, and put on my uniform.
The airy feeling of the skirt was comfortable, yet unfamiliar.

I bit my lip, tugging at the slightly tight blouse and the short hem of the skirt.
“Is this really okay?”

I wasn’t interested in styling it and planned to wear it as is, but my sister was horrified and dragged me off, altering the hem to her liking.
She said,
“If you were average-looking, it wouldn’t matter, but you can’t waste such good genes. Just so you know.”
“What about my free will? In a free and democratic country where everyone’s human rights are guaranteed, is this allowed?”

I wanted to enlighten her with a quote from Augustine but stopped myself. Seeing her glare and mutter, “Free will?” told me resistance was futile.

The result was my current appearance.

It did look good, of course.
My appearance-obsessed peers would be pleased.
But my mind wasn’t aligned with my outward appearance…

I sighed and grabbed my bag.
It was already time for school, so soon after waking up.

***

I walked to school, breathing in the cool, damp air.
Walking through the streets before sunrise wasn’t so bad.

Especially knowing I was amongst vibrant youth, not a cog in society’s machine like the suited men I saw. It lifted my spirits.

I entered the school gates and checked the provisional class assignments posted at the entrance.
‘Was I in Class 1?’

I quickly found my name.
Class 1-1, Lee Haram.

It seemed the future hadn’t changed much.
A first-time student might have been lost, but my body remembered the school layout, and I walked without hesitation.

If I remembered correctly, Class 1-1 was on the third floor of the annex building.
I paused at the intersection connecting the annex, main building, and auditorium.
The sight of the auditorium triggered a memory – the reason for the tingling sensation I felt about this school.

I was passionate about something during high school.
I experienced simple joys, laughing and chatting with people in the auditorium. Unlike other students, I went home after sunset, harboring small hopes as I gazed at the darkening sky.

A poster on the wall caught my eye.
A crudely designed, colorful poster, likely made by students.
At the top, it read: Drama Club “Atti.”