[Prologue]

I Reincarnated as a Beautiful Girl and Aim to Become a Top Actress! (WN)

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[Prologue] 

"Damn, what has my life been..."

Yoshifumi Matsuda, 39 years old. It's been a full five years since his body stopped moving, and as he entered the sixth year, he continued to think about such things.

He was never particularly smart or athletic. He wasn't one of those exceptional individuals. His face was so ugly that people would avoid him, and he was so overweight that you could call him the fattest of the fat.

Nevertheless, I somehow managed to live as a worthless person, but one day, I suddenly couldn't get out of bed. My body felt heavy and sluggish, and it wouldn't move as if it had rusted.

When I asked my mother for help, she responded with a cold, "What about your job?" My father was similar in his response. It was at this point that I first distinctly thought, "I want to die."

I'm grateful that they took me to the hospital and had various tests done. However, in the end, the cause of the symptoms remained elusive.

Even the doctors at a fairly large local hospital were at a loss, saying, "The test results don't match the patient's condition, it's impossible." They even implied it might be a psychosomatic illness.

Of course, I couldn't work since I couldn't move, and despite being a temporary worker, I was effectively laid off. I used up the savings I had managed to accumulate, got diagnosed at another hospital, and they suggested it might be psychological. So, I got a referral letter to a hospital in the neighboring prefecture, and finally, I was diagnosed with depression.

The attending psychiatrist was originally a specialist in dementia, but apparently, he can treat a wide range of mental issues. He said that mental conditions could have an impact on the body, and if nothing physically wrong shows up in tests, that's likely the cause. He mentioned that the effects on the body due to mental conditions are unpredictable, and it turned out to be true.

Around this time, I could move with some support from someone, and my behavior seemed normal, so that wasn't a good thing in the end. I could only receive minimal welfare support, with medical expenses being 10% of the total, and a third-degree mental health disability ID being the only other support available. I made a lot of calls to various places, but it was impossible. They say that if you have symptoms outside of the defined criteria in this country, you can only receive minimal support. Still, I was grateful for what I could get.

Afterwards, I was transferred to a hospital within the same prefecture, where a female doctor changed my diagnosis to "somatic symptom disorder." Many things happened during this time, but ultimately, during my last consultation, I was told, "There might be new medications that could potentially improve your condition, but other than that, there is no way to cure your illness." It was almost impossible to achieve a complete recovery.

I had been prescribed various types of medication, including psychotropic drugs and those for anxiety, but none of them made any significant difference. My desire to die did not diminish, and I continued to spiral downward, constantly thinking about the details and methods of suicide without any apparent change.

If there was anything that gave me a glimmer of hope, it was the counseling I received when I moved to my current hospital. The counselor said something that stuck with me.

Until then, I had always believed that it was entirely my fault that I had ended up like this. I had been constantly apologizing to my parents, feeling sorry for being such a burden as their son. But it turned out that it wasn't entirely my fault.

According to the counselor, they told me that even if you build a house in a swamp, it won't be stable. In other words, I didn't need to shoulder all the blame, and when I listened to the counselor, I began to think that there might have been issues in the way your parents interacted with you and raised you.

When I look back, my father, who was always busy with work, left most of the parenting to my mother. He only seemed to appear when scolding was necessary, so my impression of him was that of a stern and intimidating figure. As for my mother... To put it briefly, she was someone who couldn't prioritize anything but herself and couldn't bring herself to apologize. She must have become twisted in various ways after nearly dying and suffering from illness as a child, but I can confidently say now that she played a significant role in shaping my flaws.

But I don't intend to blame everything on my parents. I've said it many times, but I have my own share of problems. However, hearing that I don't have to bear them all by myself made me feel a little bit relieved.

I can't move my body, I don't have money, and living with my emotionally draining parents in this hopeless situation is overwhelming. As I lay in bed, my mind constantly filled with a sense of confusion, even some outrageous thoughts crossed my mind.

Suddenly, I've had the thought a few times that I wished I had been born as a woman. The trigger for this was a dream I had during the summer vacation of middle school, when I slept for half a day.

In that dream, I became an ordinary woman, not particularly beautiful or hideous, just an unremarkable woman. But in the dream, I had so much fun picking out cute clothes and searching for my favorite items among colorful underwear. Since I was just a middle school student at the time, I had no knowledge of makeup, so I didn't apply any, but when I tied my hair with ribbons, my heart raced.

It's not that I developed romantic feelings for men or had a crossdressing hobby. After having that dream, I often fantasized about what it would be like if I were a woman. I've never been in a relationship with a woman, let alone held hands with one, which might also have had some influence. There were times at work when I felt a flutter when a female colleague helped me, so perhaps there was some latent aspect to it.

So lately, I've been thinking more and more, almost as a form of escapism, that if I had been born a woman, my life might have been different. Normally, I would be pulled back into the harsh reality and reluctantly accept my current situation, but today, something felt different.

It's a room without any lights, so you can see a particularly bright part of the ceiling is illuminated. From there, a voice that sounded as if a voice changer was being used could be heard.

"Well then, go ahead and give it a try. Let's give you a chance, just once."

The moment I understood the meaning of those words, an immense gravity seemed to press down on my head as if I were being held in place. Without even the ordinary reactions or questions like "Huh?" or "What's going on here?" or "Who are you, anyway?" being allowed, my consciousness was swallowed up by pitch-black darkness.

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