Warning: This novel explores themes of role reversal and contains intense depictions of such elements. If you find these themes uncomfortable, it's recommended that you refrain from reading. The story adheres closely to the tags provided, so please review them carefully before proceeding. Enjoy the reading experience!
___________________________
William was on his way home after a long and exhausting day, each step feeling heavier than the last. The familiar ache in his muscles served as a bitter reminder of yet another day filled with bullying and beatings. His head hung low, shoulders slumped, as the weight of his existence pressed down on him.
He was utterly drained, physically and emotionally, limping toward his house in the fading light of the evening. For as long as he could remember, he had been a constant target of cruelty. The reasons were as clear as they were cruel.
The reason?
It was simple: his effeminate appearance, despite being a man.
Yes, it was his delicate features—those soft and gentle traits he was born with. He carried them like an unwanted curse, traits that should have been a gift, now a burden he could never put down.
He looked more feminine than most men, and despite countless attempts to change that, nothing ever worked. He had trained hard, pushing his body to its limits. He worked out every day, sweat and determination dripping off him like rain. He joined all kinds of classes—boxing, karate, judo, even kendo—yet, despite mastering the skills, his body stubbornly refused to bulk up.
Instead, his muscles merely became more defined, giving him a lean, almost ethereal grace, making his appearance even more striking. It was a cruel irony, a cosmic joke he couldn't escape.
He even tried to defy his own body by gaining weight. He stuffed himself with unhealthy food, devouring fast food and junk in ridiculous amounts, hoping his frame would change. But his body betrayed him once more. His weight stayed the same, unmoved by his efforts. The only explanation he could come up with was his freakishly strong metabolism, one that seemed to turn everything into energy no matter how hard he tried to change.
He tried hanging out with the most masculine of his classmates, thinking that perhaps proximity to them would improve his image, that maybe their ruggedness would rub off on him. But he always stood out like a sore thumb, out of place among the muscled giants. Eventually, even those groups began to alienate him, seeing him as an outsider who didn't belong.
Girls, on the other hand, adored him. They flocked to him daily, drawn to his tender and delicate features like moths to a flame. Their constant attention only made the bullying worse, sparking jealousy in his male classmates. His tormentors multiplied as the days passed.
It wasn't that William couldn't handle the bullying. He knew how to fight—he could easily put his skills to use. He'd be a fool not to, after all his training. But despite his capabilities, he found himself alone. The number of bullies grew, while true companionship remained out of reach.
Every day became the same routine: the sneers, the whispers behind his back, the stinging punches and kicks. He was tired of it—sick of the loneliness that clung to him like a shadow, of living a life devoid of meaning.
More than anything, William just wanted to be normal. He wanted the life of any average student, one where he didn't stand out, where his appearance didn't draw unwanted attention. He didn't want these cursed looks, this delicate face. He just wanted to blend into the crowd, to live a life that didn't revolve around being different.
His mind drifted to thoughts of how things could have been different. Maybe if he had hidden his face from the beginning—if he had worn thick glasses, pulled a cap low over his head, or masked himself—perhaps the torment would have been less. He could have been invisible, another face in the crowd, free from the daily burden of being noticed.
If only he had hidden himself from the start...
Honk! Honk!
Lost in thought, a sharp sound pierced the fog in his mind. Before he could fully register it, a searing pain shot through his back, and in an instant, everything went dark.
He was killed on the spot by a truck driven by a drunk driver.
The next day, the news splashed across the headlines, his death reduced to a fleeting story in the cold ink of a newspaper.
"Congratulations, sir and madam, the baby has been born successfully," said an elderly voice, warm and filled with joy.
'Huh...? What's happening?' William's thoughts swirled in confusion. He remembered being hit—something fast, something heavy, and then, nothing. Darkness. A fleeting moment of clarity surfaced: I must've died on that road.
'So, how am I still alive? Did the doctors manage to save me?' He tried to move, but his body felt small, restricted, as though it wasn't his own.
'What is this strange feeling…? And why does the ceiling look like that?' His eyes traveled upward, expecting to see the sterile tiles of a hospital room, but instead, a grand, ornately designed ceiling greeted him, like something from a luxurious hotel.
'Wait... This can't be right...'
His mind raced to piece things together. Did I reincarnate into another world? The thought hit him with sudden clarity, absurd as it seemed. But something deep inside told him he was right.
A sigh escaped his lips—or what he thought were his lips. He could hardly comprehend the reality around him, but there was little choice other than to accept it. His previous life had been anything but peaceful. Perhaps this strange new world would offer him the chance at a better life, a fresh start.
"Let me see my son!" came a deep but gentle voice.
'Son...? Is that my new father?' William's mind, still reeling, latched onto the sound. Turning his tiny head toward the voice, he was stunned.
The man before him was ethereal, almost otherworldly, with delicate features that mirrored those William had despised in his previous life. A wave of dread washed over him as the horrible possibility sank in—Would I be cursed with the same looks again?
The man's short silver hair shimmered under the soft light, and his deep red eyes glowed like blood-colored gems, giving him a mystical air.
"Honey, look at our son, he's so cute!" The man called out to someone beside him, his voice filled with pride and affection.
William's eyes widened as he turned to see one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. She stood tall, easily two heads above the man, with long dark brown hair cascading down her back, and soft green eyes that shone with warmth. Her curvaceous figure was a stark contrast to the petite frame of the man.
'Are they both women?' William's mind spun, trying to make sense of the strange dynamics. For a moment, he wondered if he had been born into a family of two mothers, but quickly dismissed the thought. Despite the man's delicate appearance, it was clear he was male. His flat chest contrasted the woman's absurdly large one.
"Yes, our son is indeed the cutest," the woman said, her voice rich and soothing, as she lovingly wrapped an arm around the man's waist. He leaned into her embrace, docile and soft, like a lamb.
'What...?'
Something was definitely off. The man was acting like the woman, and the woman, with her assertive posture and protective nature, seemed to play the role of the man.
He also noticed that both of them had long, slender ears, tapering to points like those of elves. Were they even human?
'What the heck is going on?' William stared in disbelief as the woman cupped the man's chin and kissed him gently, the man rising onto his tiptoes to meet her lips.
"Thank you for giving birth to our son, dear," she whispered tenderly.
'What the...?!'
William's confusion deepened. This has to be some kind of joke! Shouldn't it be the opposite?
Where the hell have I ended up?!