※This was hastily written in response to the comments section. It’s not essential to the main story, so feel free to skip it.
Early Morning – A Business Hotel Somewhere in Tokyo
I had booked a room near the venue the day before so I could participate in the All-Japan Women's Volleyball training camp starting today. I washed my face, did some light skincare—not enough to call it “makeup,” really—and got my hair ready. Just the usual grooming any girl does. Part of the morning routine.
Back when I first became a girl, I remember thinking, Why the hell do I have to do this every single day? But once it became a habit, it wasn’t that bad. In fact, I kind of started to enjoy it. Looking in the mirror, the face staring back at me was still a bit baby-faced to be called “high school girl material,” but it was at least decently cute.
It felt strange at first, but this face is mine now.
Today is August 9th. Tomorrow marks exactly one year since I came back to this world.
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Now, let me ask you something:
If you heard there’s a world out there where a Demon King is plotting world domination and heroes defeat him with swords and magic… what would you think?
A little kid might buy into it, sure. But a reasonable adult? No way they'd believe it.
I had a bad case of “chuunibyou” (delusions of grandeur) until the summer of my third year of middle school.
But even someone like me would've told someone claiming “a world of swords and magic actually exists” in all seriousness, You should see a doctor.
That’s why it’s hard for me to say this with a straight face, but…
The truth is, from three years ago until one year ago—a full two years—I actuallywas in that world of swords and magic.
No, really. Don’t roll your eyes. I’m serious.
You know those isekai stories? The ones where some modern Japanese person gets summoned to a fantasy world, becomes a Hero, and starts one-shotting monsters with special powers or a holy sword?
Yeah, that didn’t happen to me.
The world I ended up in—it wasn’t as sparkling and convenient as fantasy stories make it out to be. It was… disappointingly real, in the worst ways.
For example, fantasy worlds are supposed to be full of beautiful girls, right? But this place didn’t even have shampoo, soap, or basic hygiene products—let alone supplements or cosmetics. Meals? If you’re lucky, grilled monster meat. Nutritional balance? What’s that?
Let me be blunt. Messy hair, rough skin, unchecked body hair—that was the norm. One of my earliest culture shocks was seeing that.
Sure, the royal family and the upper class, who could afford time and resources, looked different. But even they couldn’t match the grooming standards of an average modern Japanese person.
Even so, despite lacking any special powers or magical talent, I ended up being highly valued over there.
Why? Because I had knowledge and techniques they didn’t.
Not that I’m some genius. Stuff like filtering muddy water. Crop rotation—planting different crops on the same land to keep the soil healthy.
Basic meteorology—how weather changes.
Things even elementary schoolers in Japan might know today—over there, they were revolutionary. I think the reason science and technology never advanced in that world was because of magic.
Take this example: someone gets a sword wound on the battlefield. The battlefield is filthy, so of course the wound is dirty. But over there, the idea of washing the wound doesn’t even exist.
Because healing wounds with magic is considered common sense. Nobody even thinks about preventing infections. To be fair, if the wound disappears instantly with magic, it makes sense.
The problem is, not everyone can use magic.
Only about 1 in 10 people could produce a flame the size of a matchstick or summon enough water to fill a glass once per day.
Those who could use magic in combat? Maybe 1 in 100. Actual battle-ready mages—1 in 1,000.
And it’s not like anyone understood why magic worked. It was all vague intuition and instinct. Yet that tiny, unreliable group of magic users dictated the common sense of the entire world.
So imagine what happened when I showed up with techniques anyone could use. Of course they welcomed me.
I was first summoned during the spring break of my last year of middle school, just before my high school entrance ceremony. From what I was told, they needed someone to fight the Demon King. But it was obvious I wasn't going to be of any use. So they said, Well, guess you weren’t the chosen one, and agreed to send me back.
But while sightseeing a bit before returning home, I happened to share the design for a fire piston that could create fire without magic—and they loved it. Then I taught them how to resolve water disputes with a cylinder-shaped water distribution device, and they threw a feast in my honor. When I introduced electrolytic refining, they started calling me an alchemist.
Feeling pretty good about myself, I went on to enjoy weekly Sunday trips to the other world while living my normal high school life here.
Everything changed on the first Sunday of June, three years ago. I went to the other world as usual to share some modern knowledge. That day, the Demon King’s army attacked the capital. They stole the artifact I needed to travel between worlds.
Without it, I couldn’t return to Japan.
To get back, I had to steal it back from the Demon King. But things were bad—the Demon King’s army was winning.
So, in order to survive and return home, I began analyzing the mysterious system behind magic—something that had baffled that world for centuries. Eventually, I cracked it. I developed a way for anyone to use magic. That massively boosted humanity’s forces. In the end, we defeated the Demon King.
…But there was no “happily ever after.”
First, two years had passed. I’d vanished in June of my first year of high school, and returned in August—of what should’ve been my third year. Naturally, my school records listed me as a dropout.
Even though I’d saved a whole world, that meant nothing here. I had two choices: go back to high school two years behind… or become a middle school grad trying to make it in the adult world. Yeah. It sucked.
And even worse than that was the curse that bastard Demon King left behind with his dying breath.
Because of it—I became a girl.
Sure, I’m lucky to still be alive. My best friend in that world, who fought by my side, died from his final curse.
But seriously… how the hell is an undocumented teenage girl supposed to survive in modern Japan?
I was lucky in one regard—my dad works for an NPO that protects and supports refugees and war orphans in conflict zones. Part of his job involves negotiating with governments to obtain official family registers for people who don’t have them and never did.
Thanks to that connection, I was able to assume the identity of a fictional war orphan, have a fabricated nationality assigned to me, and eventually become a member of the Tachibana family. And that’s how I got here.
…Can you believe a story like that? I wouldn’t if I were you.
Would you believe it if I said I used magic?
Sorry to disappoint, but in this world, magic doesn’t work. The reason is simple—there’s too little ambient mana in the atmosphere. I mean, there is some, technically, so if I really try, I can manage a spark about the size of a match head for a second or two. But a 100-yen lighter is a thousand times more useful than that, so magic is basically considered unusable here.
Incidentally, my superhuman physical abilities are also a kind of application of magic.
What’s that? Magic and physical strength don’t go together?
Yeah, I used to think that too, influenced by games where magic equals intelligence and physical ability equals strength. But as it turns out, you can enhance both using mana.
What, using mana to boost physical ability in modern society is cheating?
Nah, the power I’m using now is what Chinese martial arts would call “ki” (internal and external ki), probably. In theory, anyone can learn to use it.
By now, ki has become such an integrated part of my body that I can’t turn it off even if I wanted to. It’s kind of like learning to ride a bike without training wheels—you forget what it was like to need them once you’ve moved on.
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So, I became a girl with incredible physical ability through that whole process, but my body type is the unfortunate trifecta of short, flat-chested, and straight-waisted…
Actually, I’ve recently been forced to admit—my butt’s small too.
That realization hit me during a swimming class in PE.
It’s normal to sit cross-legged by student ID number on the poolside during PE. But when we all stood up and I saw the watermarks we left behind, I was crushed. Mine, compared to the girls on either side—Hina and Asuka—was significantly smaller.
I was so shocked, my knees gave out and I collapsed onto all fours right there.
What I couldn’t understand was why Hina and Asuka suddenly snapped at me.
““Is that some new kind of sarcasm?!””
They shouted in unison and jumped on me in anger.
We were all in swimsuits, so I could feel it directly—an overwhelming difference in mass. Yeah, there’s definitely a size gap between us.
Are you two really sixteen!?
No, I’ve seen them change in the clubroom plenty of times. Especially Hina—I’ve even seen her naked in the bath. I know her underwear size is different too.
But having it demonstrated to me visually like that? That stings.
Why is Hina jealous of someone like me?
If I were more like Ryou-nee, I could at least understand it…
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I completely understand why my small stature bothers me.
For me, being tall was a core part of my identity—proof of self, if you will. Ever since I was a kid, I was always taller than my peers, and I took pride in that.
Back when I was a guy, I had already passed 180 cm by the spring of my first year of high school—at age fifteen, since my birthday’s in December. I spent the next two years in a different world with worse nutrition, but I still felt like I grew a bit. I was probably somewhere in the high 180s.
Now? I’m 156 cm—below average. Not only has my gender changed, but this short stature feels like a denial of my very self.
Well, maybe it’s not that dramatic. If being tall was something to be a little proud of, being short is something to be a little frustrated by. Still, being looked down on—not just by adult men, but even adult women—feels weird.
As for being hung up on having a childlike figure… that’s probably Ryou-nee’s influence.
I fully admit it: I’m a siscon.
And of course, the target of that siscon-ness is Ryou-nee.
I could talk all night about how amazing and admirable she is. To me, she’s the ideal woman, and it’s only natural that I’d want to be more like her.
Just so we’re clear, I don’t have any impure thoughts about her. My feelings are closer to worship. My best friends Yuuki and Yuuta even once called me the founder of the “Ryou-onee-sama Faith.”
That said, ever since I became a girl, Ryou-nee’s been showing me a messier, more relaxed side she never did before, and my worship has been slowly fading…
But in exchange, she feels a lot more approachable now.
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Lost in thought, I realized it was getting late. I needed to head to the meeting spot soon or I’d be late for the All-Japan Women’s Volleyball Training Camp.
Given that I’m obviously the bottom of the pecking order, being late would be bad not just for me, but also for Mika-nee’s reputation.
I’d already gotten dressed and had breakfast, so I headed to the lobby to check out.
Apparently, even the hotel stay was covered by public funds. Of course, there’s a spending cap, but the business hotel I stayed at the night before was well within that limit—even with breakfast included. Damn, being on the Japan national team really comes with perks.
Still, I can’t believe I’m going to be playing volleyball with Mika-nee…
She’s not quite on Ryou-nee’s level, but I respect her a lot too. She’s been an incredible volleyball player since we were kids, and now she’s a national team member!
She’s got this lively, big-sisterly vibe, always looking out for others—my second proudest sister.
To think I’d be joining her at the All-Japan Women’s Volleyball Training Camp… Not only when I was a guy, but even back when I first entered Matsujo, I could’ve never imagined it.
My life’s been nothing but mountains and valleys, hasn’t it?
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