My eyes fluttered open, greeted by a vibrant menagerie of forgotten cartoon characters plastered on the walls—a dizzying parade of smiling suns, mischievous moons, and anthropomorphic animals frozen in mid-dance. I felt… small. A childish squeak, thin and reedy, escaped my lips when I tried to speak, and my limbs felt ridiculously short, as if I'd shrunk in the wash.
I stumbled out of bed, my legs feeling like freshly made jelly, each step a wobbly experiment in balance. In the full-length mirror, my reflection stared back: ten-year-old me. Jade-black hair, still a thick, unruly mop, framed an undeniably innocent face. And though it feels immodest to admit, I was cute, even among other kids my age, with wide, curious eyes and cheeks that practically begged to be pinched.
I was dressed in a pristine student's uniform: a tailored navy blue coat, crisp and unwrinkled, emblazoned with the intricate, gold-threaded emblem of what I vaguely recognized as a local private school. Beneath it, a perfectly pressed white shirt, dark gray pants, and a neatly knotted tie completed the ensemble. The fabric felt foreign, yet startlingly familiar. This uniform, this room, this undeniable youth—it solidified an impossible, terrifying truth: I'd traveled back in time.
Still reeling, I pinched my cheek, hard. A sharp, undeniable sting, wonderfully real, shot through my face, pulling me further into this bewildering reality.
I peered out the window. Everything was exactly as it used to be: the weathered wooden fence, its paint peeling like sunburnt skin; the scrawny cherry tree in the neighbor's yard, perpetually struggling to bear fruit; the faded swing set that had once been the joyful bane of my knees, forever marked with scraped scabs and triumphant shouts. My previous life, I realized with a jolt that was both bitter and liberating, had been a colossal, uninspired waste.
The same 18-year-old mind, sharp and cynical, was now trapped within this inexplicably 10-year-old body. And it was the same old, painfully unremarkable life, stretching out before me like an uninspired sequel. A groan threatened to escape, but I swallowed it. Ugh, it would've been infinitely better if I had simply shuffled off to the afterlife. At least there, I could have finally forgotten the baggage of old memories, wiped the slate clean, and started anew, unburdened.
A strange, almost manic smile crept onto my face.
Anyway, there's one thing I definitively want to declare, loud and clear, to the heavens: if God truly exists, they made a monumental, cosmic mistake sending me back in time. What an administrative blunder! Well, since they've already botched this, what exactly can I do about it now? I mused, adjusting the knot of my tie with a practiced, almost defiant flick of my wrist.
What, then, would be the grand objective of this second act, this unexpected encore? The answer resonated in my mind like a mischievous whisper, a scandalous promise: NTR. Netorare. Sounds impossibly difficult for a mere ten-year-old, right? Hell no! With my angelic, innocent looks—a perfect disguise—and a mind sharper than a freshly honed samurai sword, this was practically child's play. The clock on my wall read precisely 3 PM. Ah, fresh home from school, I suppose. And my stomach, bless its little, demanding heart, was staging a full-blown rebellion, a rumbling protest against its emptiness.
I tiptoed downstairs, each step a soft whisper against the polished wooden floor, a silent predator stalking its prey—namely, the refrigerator. My eyes scanned the shelves, a beacon of hope for my rumbling stomach, sifting through jars of pickles and half-eaten leftovers. Just as my hand reached for a mysterious, foil-wrapped object, promising unknown delights, a voice, melodious and infuriatingly familiar, cut through the quiet.
"Your theft has been caught, you little thief!"
I spun around. Karen, my elder sister, stood there, hands on her hips, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. She was a few years older than me, already radiating that intimidating, all-knowing big-sister energy.
I immediately deployed my secret weapon: the "starving puppy" look. "But Onee-san! I'm famished! Do you want me to shrivel up and become a raisin?" I whined, my eyes widening with feigned desperation.
Karen snorted, unimpressed. "Wow, what an excuse. I'm pretty sure Mom left lunch for both of us."
Lunch? Oh, right. A vague memory of a half-eaten sandwich on my desk resurfaced. I really had forgotten.
"Hey, where did you get lost in that tiny brain of yours?" Karen tapped her foot impatiently.
I quickly snapped back to my carefully crafted persona. "Please, Onee-san, don't tell Mom!" I pleaded, my voice a whisper, my face a masterpiece of innocent concern. Even though I knew, deep down, that Karen was immune to my most potent charms. She'd seen through my act since I was in diapers.
Karen's smirk returned. "Hmm, let me see... I won't tell, if you go to the market and get me something."
And so, my first mission in this new, glorious life began: a grocery run.
The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from the market. Study materials for Karen, that's what she wanted. I bought them, along with a ridiculously overpriced bag of gummy bears for myself.
After returning, I knocked, the polite little brother, and a chorus of "Come in!" greeted me. Inside, Karen was hunched over her desk, surrounded by books. And there they were: two girls, both absolutely stunning. One with a cascade of long black hair, the other with gleaming blonde hair. I knew them, vaguely, from my past life, but their names were a hazy blur.
"Hello, Kai! How are you?" the blond one chirped, a friendly smile on her face. Her name... it was right there, on the tip of my tongue, but it stubbornly refused to materialize.
"Say something, Kai," she teased, her smile widening as she looked at me.
I averted my gaze, trying to act innocent.
"I'm fine," I mumbled, handing the study materials to Karen. My eyes darted around, taking in the scene: textbooks, crumpled papers, and an open bag of chips.
"Hey, Onee-san," I piped up, using my most endearing voice.
"Hmm?" Karen replied, not looking up from her textbook.
"Can I stay here?" I leaned in, a hopeful glint in my eye.
"Okay, but don't disturb us." She said.
"Of course." I said.
I sat there too. After some time, when no one was noticing, I moved like a shadow, a hungry predator towards his prey.
And then, with an innocent look, I grabbed them.
Suddenly, someone held my hand.
"Okay, now put the sweets in the bowl like a good kid. I should've understood when you said that you want to stay here." My sister, who had grabbed my hand with the sweets, said.
"Oh Kai, you can eat my share." The blond one said.
"Really?" I asked.
"No." My sister said.
she is my greatest enemy.
That blond girl took a sweet and put it in my mouth. I wonder what's more sweet.
I know this is cringe, but I have to maintain this facade.
And you won't admit it, but everything tastes better than it did when I was 18 years old.
Karen sighed.
"Hey Onee-san, when you're free, can you help me study too? My tests are-"
"No."
"Hey, Kai, why don't you study with me?" the black haired one offered, her voice gentle.
Karen immediately perked up. "Eva! I agree you're good at studies, but that doesn't mean you waste your time right before exams."
The blond one, rolled her eyes. "Oh, Karen, you take exams too seriously. Kai, you can totally study with me if you want."
"By the way, what's your name, Blonde Onee-san?" I asked, tilting my head.
She looked at me, a flicker of demotivation crossing her face. "I come to your house often, and you don't even know my name?"
"Please tell me now! I promise, I won't forget this time!" I think I'd die of cringe.
Karen, turned from her textbook, a look of utter disbelief on her face. "Hey, what's this? You never talk to your Onee-san so nicely!"
Blondie one, meanwhile, seemed to be melting under my adorable onslaught. She sighed, a small smile playing on her lips. "Lucy. And listen, I'll be angry if you forget my name this time, cutie."
"He's cute when he tries, though. Besides, I don't mind helping him study. What's one more genius in the making?"
What are you saying? I'm always cute.
Karen huffed, a theatrical sigh escaping her lips. "Fine, just don't distract him too much. And Kai, no complaining if Lucy makes you do extra problems!"
There's no way I'll get so close to them just now.
"Onee-san, I don't want to trouble them," I said, my voice carefully modulated to sound apathetic, as if the prospect of group study was nothing more than a mild inconvenience. "So, I'll rather study by myself."
Karen's brow furrowed. "And you're fine with troubling me?" she countered, a hint of exasperation in her tone.
I sighed, a dramatic, put-upon sound. "That's enough. If you don't want to teach me, I'll study by myself." To be honest, what I'd said about the test was a complete fabrication. If there even was a test, it would be laughably easy, and I'd, of course, have to deliberately hold back to avoid raising suspicion. Besides, when I'd asked Onee-san to teach me, it was merely a ploy, an opening gambit to start a conversation.
"Also," I declared, my voice now cold, laced with a feigned disdain, "It's not like I want to trouble you on purpose. I just don't like studying with strangers." Without waiting for her response, I spun on my heel and ran towards my room, the sound of my hurried footsteps echoing in the quiet house.
Even after everything they'd done for me, I had just called them strangers. Did they feel bad? Of course they did. But it didn't matter. Kids don't care how others feel; they simply do what they like to do, driven by impulse and self-interest. Since I was a child now, I should embody that very essence. Right? If I needed them later, a simple, tearful apology would suffice. Such an act would only deepen the emotional connection, forging a bond that would serve my future manipulations. I'd always truly liked children; perhaps I was even a little jealous of their unburdened existence. They remained untouched by the superficial allure of beauty or cuteness in others, and that, to me, was their greatest, most liberating charm. Oh, how I wished I could avoid being captivated by such fleeting aesthetics myself.
Manipulating older girls would take time, a delicate dance of calculated vulnerability and feigned innocence. I figured a few days would be enough to lay the groundwork. But while I was meticulously setting the stage for my eventual loss of… innocence (ahem), what was I supposed to do in the meantime? Because, newsflash, I was ten years old. Which meant I was condemned to attend elementary school every single day. The horror! How was I going to pass the time there? I didn't even have a mobile phone.
And let's be clear: when it came to manipulation, I wasn't so low as to start on eight-year-old girls. I wasn't a lolicon! Ugh, but what else could I do? I was stuck in a body that couldn't reach the top shelf of the refrigerator without a step stool. My options were… limited.
Then, a brilliant idea, a tiny spark of genius in the vast wasteland of my prepubescent existence, ignited in my mind.
Knock, knock.
The door creaked open, revealing Charlotte's mom, a woman whose smile could disarm a nuclear warhead. "Kai-kun! What a pleasant surprise!" she chirped, her voice as warm as a freshly baked cookie.
"I'm fine, Aunty, thank you! Is Charlotte Onee-san home?" I asked, my voice pitched just right for an earnest, polite ten-year-old.
"Yes, she is home," Charlotte's mom replied, her smile widening. "Charlotte, Kai is here to see you!" she called out, her voice carrying through the house.
From somewhere deeper within, I heard a muffled, somewhat incredulous reply: "What does he want?"
She was really cheeky, that one. Charlotte always acted as if I were beneath her notice in front of others, yet when we were alone, her obsession bordered on terrifying. I actually used to be genuinely scared of her due to her unsettling possessiveness.
Charlotte's mom gave me an apologetic glance, a little chuckle escaping her lips. "Oh, don't mind her, Kai-kun. You don't visit, so she's just surprised!" She then gestured towards the interior of the house. "Go on in, she's in her room. I'll bring some cake and juice for you two." With that, she was already bustling towards the kitchen.
"Thank you, Aunty! You're very kind!" One must maintain appearances, even when one's ulterior motives are as thick as a triple-chocolate fudge cake. Charlotte's family was undeniably well-off, rich enough to own a PC – a coveted item in my past life, and an even more coveted one now that I was trapped in the digital dark ages. But no, I wasn't here to butter her up for money.
And no, I certainly didn't come here to seduce her either. So the question lingered: why was I here? Because of her computer. As I'd already established, I had no intention of wasting most of my days stuck in elementary school. Therefore, my immediate goal was to find scholarships that would grant me admission into a prestigious school, allowing me to skip grades and accelerate my escape from this juvenile purgatory.
"Can I come in?" I asked, standing at her bedroom door.
"Of course, you can."
Charlotte's family lived next door to ours, and our families shared an incredibly close bond. Thanks to this, I had never once set foot in Charlotte's room, precisely because I was terrified of what she might do to me if we were alone. That fear, it seemed, was now a thing of the past.
I went inside. She was sitting on her bed, completely engrossed in a video game, her concentration absolute. She had flaxen blond hair, poker-straight and meticulously groomed, cascading down her back, shimmering under the soft light filtering through her window.
Her caramel-colored eyes, framed by long lashes, were fixed on the screen. Her face was strikingly beautiful, a face anyone would call stunning. She was thirteen, three years my senior.
Come to think of it, why was I even scared of her in my past life? The thought was almost amusing.
"So, how are you, Kai? I can't believe you actually came to me yourself," she said, a playful grin stretching across her face as she finally tore her gaze from the screen. She started walking towards me, her movements slow, deliberate, like a predator closing in.