Chapter 3 — Memories of the Other Self
When I returned to my room after breakfast, I felt oddly exhausted. The moment I sat down on the edge of the enormous bed, a sudden, piercing pain shot through my skull.
"Ah—!" I clutched my head, my vision blurring. It felt like thousands of needles stabbing directly into my brain. The pain was unbearable—like my mind was being torn apart.
Then the flood began.
Images, voices, flashes of moments that didn't belong to me rushed in all at once—like a movie being played at impossible speed. My breathing grew heavy, my hands trembling. The pain only worsened until I collapsed onto the bed, curling up as the torrent of memories overwhelmed me.
Minutes—maybe hours—passed. And then, suddenly, it stopped.
Silence.
I lay there panting, drenched in sweat. My mind was still spinning, but the fragments began to piece themselves together. The memories… they weren't random. They belonged to him—the original owner of this body.
And with each flash, the truth of this strange world unfolded before me.
---
This was a parallel world, almost identical to Earth—specifically, Japan. The streets, the cities, even the seasons felt the same. But one thing was drastically different.
Here, the gender ratio was completely reversed.
One man for every one hundred fifty women 1:150 ratio.
Men were the rarest existence in this world—protected, adored, and sheltered to the point of sacredness. Society itself had rebuilt its morals, its politics, and its laws around the preservation of the male gender.
I gasped softly as more memories poured in—details about the laws that defined this world.
There was something called the Male Protection Act—a set of special rights guaranteed to every man from birth.
The First Right was Protection from Family and Society. Every man had to be cared for and guarded by his immediate family and by the state.
The Second Right was Education Free of Cost. Male students attended the best schools without paying a single yen.
The Third Right was Free Lifetime Healthcare. Any illness or injury—no matter how minor—was treated instantly and without charge.
And the Fourth Right was Unlimited Access to Government Resources. If a man ever required anything—security, transport, even luxury—it would be provided immediately by law.
This entire world existed to protect men, not exploit them.
More memories followed, clearer now.
I saw my family—or rather, the family of the boy whose body I now inhabited. They were immensely powerful and wealthy, a family with influence stretching across business and politics alike.
And within that family, I—no, he—had been the youngest child.
A mother, five elder sisters, and me—the only son.
Their love for him had been extreme, almost obsessive. But in contrast, the boy's attitude toward them had been cold and rebellious.
The previous "me" had treated his family like predators—constantly suspecting their kindness and rejecting their care. He had grown up spoiled, entitled, and detached from affection.
Now, I understood why they seemed so overprotective at breakfast. It wasn't only because I was their youngest brother; it was because, in this world, a single male child was more precious than anything else.
---
The memories continued.
My eldest sister—Mizuki Takahara, age 20 was a university student majoring in international business. Mature, calm, and intelligent, she handled many of the family's company affairs despite her young age.
The second sister—Arisa, age 18 was studying medicine. She was elegant but strict, the type who would scold you for skipping breakfast yet secretly worry if you sneezed once.
The third sister—Reina, age 17—was a cheerful and bold girl, majoring in arts. She often acted without thinking but had the kindest heart of all.
The fourth—Sakura, age 16 and the fifth—Aoi, age 14 were both in high school. They were mischievous, playful, and constantly arguing with each other, but the moment I entered the room, they turned into soft, doting sisters.
And finally, my mother—Ayaka Takahara, 35 but if you saw her, you'd never believe it. She looked barely in her twenties. Her long silver hair shimmered like the moonlight, and her beauty could easily rival any actress from my original world.
All of them—stunning, strong, and fiercely protective of me.
---
Then came another wave of knowledge—information about how the rest of society functioned.
Because men were so rare, the government enforced strict laws for their safety. Any woman who attempted to harm, exploit, or even insult a man could face severe punishment—life imprisonment or even the death penalty for extreme cases.
Men were considered treasures—national assets.
In schools, male students were treated like royalty. Teachers, staff, and even female students approached them with utmost respect. The curriculum, dormitories, even uniforms were all designed to make men feel comfortable and secure.
Marriage laws were equally shocking.
If a woman wished to marry a man, she had to provide:
Lifetime financial security for him,
A written oath of kindness and non-violence,
And a dowry worth at least 50 million yen, along with a luxury car and a villa.*
Even among the richest women, marrying a man was a fierce competition. They offered their fortunes, properties, and companies—all for a chance to win the affection of a single male.
And as for men? They had full freedom to choose. A man could marry up to five or six women, if he wished.
---
One more detail from those inherited memories sent shivers down my spine.
When a male child was born, the government granted his family lifetime privileges—financial subsidies, free healthcare, education for all female members, and elevated social status.
That explained everything.
My family's immense wealth.
Their constant protection.
Their fear of losing me.
To them, I wasn't just their brother or son—I was their treasure.
---
I sat there, motionless, trying to process it all.
From an overworked, lonely office employee in Tokyo to a 12-year-old boy living in a world ruled by women, protected by unbreakable laws, and born into unimaginable luxury.
The difference was staggering.
I slowly touched my chest. My heart was beating fast, but it wasn't fear—it was something else.
"This is real…" I whispered to myself. "I… I really died. And now, I'm living again. In a world like this."
The thought made me both nervous and strangely excited.
But among all the new information, one question still haunted me—why this body?
Why was I given this second chance?
Was it luck? Fate? Or something else entirely?
---
I stood up and walked toward the large window beside my bed. The morning sunlight spilled into the room, painting the pink-tinted walls in a soft golden hue. Outside, the snow-covered streets of this "Tokyo" looked almost identical to the one I once knew.
Except here, every passerby was a woman.
Tall, graceful, confident women—each wearing a look of quiet authority. Every man I saw was either being escorted by guards or accompanied by a small group of attendants.
So this was the world I had been reborn into—a world where men lived behind protection, and women ruled the surface.
I pressed my palm against the cold glass, staring at the city.
A faint smile formed on my lips.
"Alright," I murmured to myself. "If this is the life I've been given… then I'll live it properly this time."
For once, I felt something I hadn't felt in years back in my original life—hope.