[CH.1] Sumire, 4 years old.
"Suu! Help me over here for a moment!"
I heard my mother's voice calling me from the laundry room, so I slowly got up and headed in that direction. I had grown accustomed to the sensation of hair tickling my neck, something I never felt back when I was a man.
Yes, it's all in the past now, the time when I was a man. The 39-year-old man, Yoshifumi Matsuda, now lives as a 4-year-old girl named Sumire Matsuda... though it's not like I suddenly became a 4-year-old girl.
.....
After blacking out and losing consciousness, the next time I woke up, I found myself in a familiar apartment. In my previous life - to avoid confusion, let's call it my past life - our family had moved out of this apartment and into a used house my dad had bought a few years after I became an adult. It was a house in a New Town neighborhood that had been around for over 30 years. The location was less convenient, situated on a hill with poor transportation, but it was much more spacious and comfortable compared to this apartment.
This apartment was a run-down place that suited our really poor family perfectly. The walls were so thin that you could easily hear our neighbors' phone conversations and even make out the TV shows they were watching. Plus, there were train tracks nearby, so when a train passed by, it felt like a mild earthquake.
Seeing the ceiling of this familiar apartment, my dazed mind suddenly snapped to attention. I reflexively tried to sit up, but for some reason, my head felt heavy, and after lifting slightly, it flopped back onto what seemed to be a soft surface, likely a futon. I braced for impact, worried I might hit my head on the floor, but it appeared to be cushioned and absorbed the shock.
Before losing consciousness, my body had already been difficult to move due to illness, but what I was feeling now was a different kind of difficulty. I wondered if it was due to lack of muscle strength and tried to bring my hands in front of my eyes with a determined effort.
"…Huh?"
I couldn't help but lose my words. I had imagined the calloused palm of an adult male, but what lay before me was a tiny, delicate hand resembling a red maple leaf.
I squeezed and closed my hand several times, but it moved just as I intended. It seemed unbelievable, but these were undeniably my own hands. Still, I couldn't easily accept it, so I continued to stare at my opening and closing hands in astonishment.
No matter how much time passed, the size of my hands didn't change, and I started to feel tired. So, I gently placed my right hand on the futon. It occurred to me that before losing consciousness, I had heard a strange voice.
(That voice said, "Well then, go ahead and give it a try." Could it be about starting life over? Going back to being a baby?)
As unbelievable as it sounded, considering the current situation, it seemed like the most plausible explanation. If that were the case, there was one more thing I needed to confirm.
Unfortunately, I knew from helping take care of my niece that a baby's limbs were quite short. There was no way my hand could reach down to my groin while lying down. So, I calmly attempted to roll over, and I successfully ended up lying face down.
If you're a man, you've probably experienced that when you lie face down on the floor, there's a slight sensation as "it" gets gently pressed between you and the floor. But I didn't feel that sensation now. I had vaguely sensed that my thing was gone, but this confirmed it. It seemed like I had indeed become a girl, just as I had imagined at that moment.
When I was suffering from my illness, I had thought about becoming a girl to distract myself from despair. However, now that it had actually happened, a mix of joy and indescribable anxiety filled my heart. It was indeed wonderful to have a chance to redo my life, and having my memories intact was a significant advantage. I didn't know what kind of being had granted me this, but that mysterious voice had shown me considerable favor.
With a bit of effort, I rolled back onto my back and saw a calendar hanging on the green earth wall. It displayed the following year's and the month of August, which was my birth year.
I used to be born in May when I was a man, so if my birthday remained the same, I would be about one year and a little over three months old now.
I wondered if my parents were still the same as they were when I was a man, and if my sister still existed. I just wanted any information I could get. Perhaps it could be a daydream, or maybe I, who had been mentally pushed to the brink, was seeing delusions or hallucinations.
Ordinary single men wouldn't know the behavior of babies, but fortunately, I had seen my niece (and even twins) every day from four months old until she reached middle school. I might be able to act the part better than someone who knew nothing.
While thinking about all this, I was determined to gather information while experiencing life as a baby.
.....
"Sumire, please fold the towel, just like I showed you before."
"Yes."
I received a small basket in the laundry room, and my mother returned to the living room with a laundry basket filled with clothes. Sitting on the floor, I picked up the towels from the basket, pretending to be a little clumsy as I continued the monotonous task. As I worked, I found myself reflecting on the days from the moment I had become this body to today.
For convenience, I referred to the voice I heard that day as "God," but it seemed that God had simply sent me back to a past where my gender was reversed. My family structure remained unchanged. My paternal grandparents and maternal grandmother were still the same people, and the place we lived in was the same.
The only minor difference might be my facial features. I used to resemble my mother, but here, people often said I looked more like my father. And whether it was a gift from God or not, my appearance seemed to have improved, taking the best traits from both my father and mother. The most noticeable change was in my eyes. They used to be narrow, but now they had become large, almost overflowing, with a slightly droopy appearance that exuded a gentle aura.
In my previous life, I had a complex about my somewhat stern appearance, which often led to confrontations with delinquents. However, it seemed that in this life, I might be able to avoid such situations.
Hearing compliments like "You're so cute" or "I look forward to your future" from the neighborhood ladies made me a bit happy. I even set future goals for myself, aiming to become the ideal girl I had in mind. But recently, there was a slight issue.
(...ah, someone is watching me again.)
The accordion curtain in the entrance, which was meant to block the view into the house, was slightly open, revealing a pair of eyes peeking out and glaring at me. Perhaps the owner of those eyes was puffing up their cheeks in dissatisfaction.
In this life, my older sister from my previous life still existed as my two-year-older sister. She had been somewhat self-centered in a different way from our mother, and she had caused me some unpleasant experiences, but she had also helped me in many ways. I had thought we would get along just fine, and she used to take care of me like we were playing pretend when I was a baby. However, things had been a little different recently.
As mentioned earlier, my current self was an adorable little girl. Not only did I look reasonably cute, but my past life experiences also seemed to have an effect on me. I was friendly, and I rarely displayed the typical tantrums or selfishness of a child. Given this, the adults around me showered me with attention. I wasn't intentionally seeking it, and I wouldn't have minded being left alone a bit more, but considering the dislike I had faced in my past life, I couldn't help but feel pleased with the positive attention.
However, for my sister, who had been the family and neighborhood idol until I was born, this was something she couldn't simply overlook. It's common to hear that older siblings might act like babies when a younger sibling is born, but I think she resented the days when she was scolded for being demanding while I, her little sister, received all the attention. When she reaches the upper grades of elementary school, she might start analyzing why she feels this way and begin to find the good qualities in others to emulate, but it would be cruel to expect that from a six-year-old.
What shocked my sister the most, I believe, was that my grandfather doted on me. In my past life, my grandfather, who had been indifferent to me like I was a roadside pebble, doted on my sister, his only granddaughter. It seemed that this hadn't changed in this life either, as until I reached about two years old, my grandfather probably considered my sister the most adorable grandchild.
As a toddler who had taken on the persona of an adult in a child's body, I easily manipulated my doting grandparents. With such a high cuteness factor, they increased their favor towards me at the slightest provocation. Even my grandmother, who had caused in-law problems and died with many people holding grudges against her in my past life, surprised me by pretending to be a good person when I was around, perhaps because she didn't want to be disliked.
Given this situation, I had no intention of competing for their affections, especially because of the rivalry brewing with my sister. Maybe she even thought of me as an enemy. Nevertheless, despite any lingering resentment from my past life, I, an adult on the inside, had no intention of antagonizing my six-year-old sister. In fact, since I had become the same gender, I wanted to get along well as sisters.
Feeling the strong sense of rivalry emanating from her sharp gaze, I sighed softly and piled up the folded towels, wondering if there was any way to improve the situation.
😂😂
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