Chapter 1: The Awakening

The sound of an alarm echoed beside me, jolting me awake. Without thinking, I reached out and silenced it. Whoever composed that tune really knew how to wake someone up—whether they wanted to or not. The irritating "pa-pa-pa" that played after the main alarm was more than enough to force anyone out of bed, and my body instinctively reacted to it.

Something felt off today, though. My body felt unusually warm. Maybe it was because I stayed up late reading that novel. Back when I was a student, I could pull all-nighters and still be fine for school the next day. Now, just a few years later, my body is already complaining about it. I guess this is what getting older feels like. It’s funny how I never really thought about it before, but now I realize how much I miss those school days.

Lately, I’ve been reading a lot of academy-themed novels, probably because they remind me of those times. I didn’t have the kind of school life with cute girls around like in the stories I read—having gone to an all-boys school—but it’s nice to escape into that kind of world, at least in my mind.

I’m really into academy-themed stories, even the ones that aren’t very popular. The one I just finished last night, The Sacred Sword of the Academy, was one of those hidden gems. It had its share of challenges, with dark moments and characters that met tragic ends, which probably overshadowed its solid writing and compelling characters. Although I usually prefer lighter, more cheerful stories, I found myself deeply engrossed as the protagonist and heroine fought through their hardships. I couldn’t stop until I reached the end.

And then, the ending hit me like a ton of bricks.

After overcoming countless obstacles and reaching the final battle, both the protagonist and the heroine were left in a situation with no way out. The last line of the novel was just one single sentence: "Could you save them?" And that was it. The author ended the story right there.

I was stunned. Every fiber of my reader’s soul screamed at me to send a 5,700-word email to that sadistic author, but as a long-time genre fiction fan, I was too afraid that I might somehow get pulled into the story’s world. Instead, I could only muster up a meek comment: "This is too much..." It reminded me of the last time I felt this frustrated by an ending, years ago with "This Guy is Smiling?".

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. My body, already warm, started feeling even hotter. Maybe I should take a shower to cool off. With that thought, I opened my eyes and sat up, only to be blinded by a bright light. Was the sun shining that strongly today? I squinted and lowered my head.

My body was on fire.

Not figuratively—literally on fire.

I let out a dumbfounded "Eh?" and blinked, wondering if I was still dreaming. But no, the flames were real. The logical thing to do was to put the fire out, so I dashed to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Then, I yelped in shock.

The water was freezing cold!

I quickly adjusted the lever, waiting for the water to warm up. As I stood there under the now-warm water, I realized that the flames weren’t going out. Was I going to turn into a flaming monster?

While these thoughts raced through my mind, something felt off. I glanced down and was struck by a realization that hit me like a sledgehammer.

I was showering with my clothes on.

Never mind the fact that my clothes weren’t burning despite my body being on fire—what really got to me was the sheer stupidity of standing there, fully clothed, in the shower. As if in response to my embarrassment, the flames that had been raging on my body suddenly went out, like they had been switched off.

As the flames disappeared, I could no longer ignore the curves of my body that had been nagging at me since I woke up. To be honest, I had suspected something was wrong when I first noticed the flames, but this...

Trying to stay calm, I turned off the water and stepped in front of the mirror above the sink.

In the mirror, a beautiful young girl with fiery red hair and striking red eyes stared back at me. She was soaking wet, her clothes clinging to her body and revealing every curve.

Normally, I would have admired such an alluring figure, but not when it was mine.

"Of all things..." I muttered, my voice heartbreakingly sweet.

Getting pulled into a novel is a common trope, but a gender swap? That’s niche. And it’s not like I could become some overpowered streamer in a fantasy world either. What’s the point of this TS (Transgender) twist then? No, I’m not interested in any ‘female corruption’ trope, thank you very much.

If I had ranted at the author about the ending, saying something like, "I could have done better!" I could understand this happening. But I didn’t. So why am I here, and why did I change genders?

Despite my inner turmoil, I continued to move mechanically. I stripped off the wet clothes and dried myself with a towel. My hair was annoyingly long, making it difficult to dry.

After drying off, I dressed in the uniform hanging on a nearby rack. It was the same uniform worn by a character on the cover of The Sacred Sword of the Academy—a short skirt included. As much as I disliked it, I had no choice but to go along with the situation.

My new body was undeniably female, with just enough curves to make that clear. Even a quick peek under the skirt confirmed it—there was nothing there. I sighed and checked the skirt’s pocket, finding a student ID as expected.

As soon as I glanced at the ID, I felt a flicker of flames in my hair again. It seemed that my emotions were linked to the fire somehow. Right now, I was definitely pissed off. The student ID bore the same face I had just seen in the mirror, and the name printed next to it read:

Scarlet Evande.

"Evande..." I whispered.

I was now certain—the author must be a real piece of work.