Tyler had realized that he had been reborn.
Not as Tyler Park—but as a beautiful baby girl named Ji-Soo Park.
Not to different parents, but to the same ones, in a different reality.
Even after three months, she still couldn't understand why she had been reborn as a girl.
I was a dude before, so why?
Couldn't I at least have been born a guy?
When Ji-Soo was born, her parents had been overjoyed. The childbirth, which should have been difficult, passed smoothly. Her father, who had been terrified of something going wrong, finally breathed in relief. When his wife was closed to childbirth, he had ignorantly went drinking with his friends. Leaving his wife to endured the burdened of childbirth all to herself.
"If something happened," he had whispered to himself, "I wouldn't even know what to do…"
But everything had gone well. Too well.
They had even been blessed with a beautiful little girl—exactly what he had secretly hoped for.
"Ha-Joon will love her," he told his wife with a smile.
"After all, he has a little sister now."
His wife ignored him.
That was how he had came to this world. An alternate reality where despite being the same—isn't the same at all.
In a modest living room, Ji-Soo's grandmother, Soon-Ja, sat beside the crib, playing peek-a-boo.
At sixty-five, Soon-Ja still looked as though she were in her fifties. Her hair was mostly black, only a few silver strands betraying her age. She couldn't get over how adorable her granddaughter was.
"Oh, why are you so cute?" she laughed softly.
Ji-Soo giggle in response.
From the stairs, a small boy peeked out.
"Grandma! Here!" Ha-Joon said, his pronunciation clumsy but enthusiastic.
Soon-Ja chuckled. "You're so sweet—just like your sister. I can't believe your mischievous mother gave birth to such well-behaved children."
Soon-Ja prepared the bottle and gently lifted Ji-Soo into her arms.
Ji-Soo drank it, even though she hated the taste.
I was thirty years old once, she thought bitterly.
And now I'm drinking baby formula.
Humiliating.
"You're so well behaved," Ha-Joon said proudly, leaning closer. He reached out and poked his sister's cheek, clearly enjoying himself.
Unfortunately, Ji-Soo was still feeding—and Ha-Joon hadn't quite learned how gentle he needed to be.
The bottle tilted and the formula spilled down Ji-Soo's shirt.
"Be gentle," Grandma said at once, her voice soft but firm. "She's still very small."
Ha-Joon froze, then quickly pulled his hand back. "Sorry…" he mumbled.
Ji-Soo stared up at him, milk soaking into her clothes.
This is it, she thought.
This is my life now.
The rest of the afternoon passed quietly. Her grandmother would leave to watch television with Ha-Joon whenever she grew tired of holding the baby, then return later to play with Ji-Soo again. Every now and then, Ha-Joon would wander over and poke her belly a few times. Sometimes he even tickled her tiny feet, which annoyed her more than she cared to admit.
Is this how I'm going to live for the rest of my life? she thought with a grimace.
This is why you shouldn't have an older brother. Well, at least he's cute.
Ji-Soo had too much time to think.
And so she did.
She wondered how she would live this life. She feared that even if she gained new things, she still wouldn't be able to keep them. In her past life, she hadn't been a very filial child—would she be one this time? She had spent her old life chasing mediocrity. Would she dare to aim higher now?
Before, she had only wanted to look normal.
Average face. Average height.
After all, she had been ugly and short.
You can't be ugly and wish to be beautiful, she thought. Being normal is enough.
But maybe that would change now—now that she actually looked normal. Humans were greedy creatures. When they finally got what they wanted, they always ended up wanting more.
People wished for different things depending on where they stood.
Those at the top wanted to climb even higher—or at least stay there.
Those in the middle wanted to rise.
Those at the bottom only wanted to be average.
But what happened when those at the bottom finally became average?
Would they be satisfied?
Or would they start wanting more?
Ji-Soo didn't want to become that kind of person.
But maybe… she already was.
She knew full well how dangerous greed could be. It wasn't until her parents died in her past life that she realized she had already possessed everything she truly needed. Having a good appearance would have been nice—but it meant nothing when the people she wanted to show it to were gone.
If she were beautiful, more people might like her. Their gazes would change. Their attitudes would soften.
But then…
Wouldn't the ones who truly loved me still stay the same?
Even if I never changed at all? Those who truly love me would still love me, no matter my looks.
In the end, real love had nothing to do with appearances.
If anything, being beautiful only invited jealousy.
Ji-Soo knew that better than anyone.
Meanwhile, Ha-Joon had been watching his little sister the entire time.
She stared at the ceiling with a strangely serious expression, far too thoughtful for a baby.
He tilted his head.
Why does my sister look like she's having some kind of deep realization… like that old man I met at the store?