When Tyre woke up, he thought he had gone blind. If he had to describe it, it felt as though his vision had been split in two, each half displaying a different image.
"I..."
Shocked by the unfamiliarity of his sight, he was even more alarmed to realise that he couldn't remember anything about his past—except for his name. His mind was as blank as a fresh sheet of paper.
Fortunately, he still had basic logical reasoning and a body that seemed to function well.
Setting aside the two major problems that arose upon waking, Tyre sat up on the wooden bed, his movements making the worn-out frame creak in protest. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. The first thing that met his gaze was a simple, run-down grass hut. A place so neglected, dust had settled everywhere. It was clear that no one had lived here for some time.
Yet, even with his lost memories, he instinctively knew—this had never been his home.
Tyre's dark eyes swept over the dilapidated room: a dry, cracked table, a three-legged chair, and a tea set so ancient it looked like an unearthed artifact. His gaze finally settled on a figure watching him intently.
No... it wasn't just *one* figure.
A sense of unease crept over him.
Tyre blinked and widened his eyes, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
Before him stood a girl with long, flowing black hair—like a waterfall under the night sky. Her eyes, shimmering like stars, carried an almost divine beauty.
Even without his past memories, Tyre *knew*—such a woman was the kind mortals would call a goddess.
At the other end of his vision, he saw someone else: a short-haired young man with an ordinary face, so unremarkable that one might struggle to remember it at a glance. His expression was one of shock and confusion, mirroring that of the girl.
*"What's wrong with me?"*
*"What's wrong with me?"*
The boy and the girl spoke in unison, their words overlapping. Yet the girl's voice, clear and melodious like a celestial tune, completely overpowered the boy's.
A terrible suspicion formed in Tyre's mind, and both figures visibly paled.
*"No way."*
*"No way."*
Their voices overlapped again, as though they were two halves of the same person.
It was as if their minds were perfectly in sync.
But while the young man's paleness was akin to someone suffering from extreme constipation, the girl's expression was different. Her face, though drained of colour, held a delicate, helpless beauty that stirred pity. It was a stark contrast, like a world losing its colour.
*"What the hell!"*
*"What the hell!"*
Both cursed at the same time. Hearing such crude words come from the lips of an ethereal beauty was oddly... amusing.
*No, no, no, no.*
Tyre shook his head—this was *not* the time to be thinking about that.
At first, he thought his biggest problem was his amnesia.
He had no idea something *far worse* was waiting for him.
There was only one way to confirm it.
With a dry gulp, he steeled himself. His nervous swallow sounded unnaturally loud in the silent room.
*"Before we proceed... If my hypothesis is wrong, I will accept any punishment—aside from physical violence."*
*"Before we proceed... If my hypothesis is wrong, I will accept any punishment—aside from physical violence."*
With unwavering determination, the young man—Tyre—reached out his right hand toward the girl's soft, ample chest.
And at the exact same moment, the girl mirrored his movement—touching herself in the exact same way.
The moment his palm met that indescribably soft sensation, Tyre felt his breathing turn uneven.
But more importantly—*he could feel it*.
The girl's sensation of touch was *his* sensation of touch.
There was no doubt anymore.
*"As I suspected..."*
*"As I suspected..."*
Slowly withdrawing his trembling right hand, Tyre was forced to accept the unbelievable truth.
He *was* both the boy *and* the girl.
One mind, two bodies.
The first thing to confirm was gender perception.
From the girl's perspective, there was no instinctive reaction toward the male body—no natural attraction or interest. This proved that, before his memory loss, he had been a man. Psychologically, he still identified as male, and the thought of viewing himself as a woman felt completely unnatural.
Next was the issue of vision. Having two separate perspectives yet one consciousness was overwhelming. Even without his memories, he *knew* this was far from normal. If he ever revealed this to the world, he might be seen as some kind of monster.
And then there was movement—coordinating two bodies at once.
Each body could act independently, but their actions were often synchronised. Walking, for example, could become a disaster. There might be no obstacles in the girl's path, but if the boy tripped on something, the entire process could be thrown off.
And, of course, there was *another* major issue.
One he really, *really* didn't want to think about.
Fortunately, he still retained some common sense. And with that common sense, he made a firm decision:
**When dealing with bodily necessities—men handle things their way, and women handle things their way.**
And *never*, under *any* circumstances, should he mix them