As I pry my eyes open, pain detonates inside my skull—deep, raw, relentless—like a jackhammer gone rogue, drilling straight into my brain.
"NYARRRGGGHHHH!!!!"
The scream rips from my throat, raw and desperate, as white-hot pain erupts behind my eyes—sharp, merciless, searing. It feels like a thousand tiny ninjas stabbing my brain with flaming chopsticks.
My ears ring violently, a high-pitched screech clawing at my sanity, and my vision—oh god!— it'sis a swirling mess of distorted shapes and chaotic colors, like someone tossed a kaleidoscope into a blender and hit purée.
"NYARRRGHHHH, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"
I grit my teeth, I bite my hand, but it's useless. The pain is too much, drowning out everything else, consuming me whole. My world spins into a maelstrom of darkness and disorientation, a vortex dragging me deeper and deeper into chaos.
Then—I roll.
Uncontrollably.
I slam onto the ground with a sickening thud, then tumble again, clutching my skull like it's about to crack open.
Bam!
Another impact.
Pain rockets through me, every nerve in my body screaming in protest. My head hits the floor again, sending a fresh explosion of agony tearing through my already shattered senses. My thoughts—what little remains of them—are a jumbled, incoherent mess, completely drowned out by the storm raging inside me.
And then—slowly, agonizingly slow—the pain begins to fade.
Like a passing hurricane, it recedes, leaving behind a dull, throbbing ache—the kind you'd expect after drinking an entire barrel of whiskey…
I gasp for air, each breath ragged and uneven, my chest heaving as I struggle to regain control. Tears blur my vision, and I instinctively raise my hand to wipe them away—
Only to smear dirt into my eyes.
Perfect. Just perfect.
A frustrated growl bubbles in my throat as I blindly fumble at my clothes—whatever the hell I'm wearing—and use the fabric to scrub my face. I blink furiously, wincing, until my sight finally clears.
And as I push myself up, swaying, my skull still pounding, something slams into me—
Memories.
Like a runaway train, they hit all at once.
Wait. Wait a second—
I got hit by a truck.
How the hell am I still alive?
And more importantly—
What happened to the catgirl cosplayer?
Did she… make it?
But before I can even begin to process those questions, an even bigger, more pressing realization crashes into me.
Where the hell am I?
I take in my surroundings, my brain struggling to make sense of it all.
The room is simple—wooden floors, wooden ceiling, furnished minimally. There's a small, rigid bed in the corner (which I must have just fallen from), its bedding stiff as if stuffed with rocks. Across from it stands a modest wooden wardrobe, and near the window, a plain wooden table and chair. But what really catches my eye is the massive chest in the corner, its lid locked down by the largest, most menacing chain and padlock I've ever seen.
Everything feels… foreign. Old-fashioned.
But the biggest red flag?
There's no electricity. No lamps, no outlets, no TV—none of the modern conveniences I've taken for granted my entire life. It's like I've been tossed into the set of a low-budget historical drama.
The only source of light comes from the moon outside the window, casting a pale, eerie glow across the room.
I squint at it.
Something about it feels off.
It's huge—far larger than I remember, perfectly round and impossibly luminous, like someone cranked up the saturation in Photoshop just for dramatic effect.
Weird…
I blink a few times, adjusting.
Wait.
My eyesight—
It's… perfect?
Where are my glasses?
I reach for my face, but they're not there. And yet—I can see everything with crystal clarity, even in the dim light. The grain of the wooden walls, the fine dust particles floating in the air… It's like I've been blessed with divine 20/20 vision overnight.
Curiosity gnaws at me. Slowly, I drag myself to the window, hesitating only for a moment before pushing it open. Maybe—just maybe—I'll get some clue as to where the hell I am.
And then—
My brain short-circuits.
"What… the heck is this?" I mutter.
The moment the window swings open, an entire bustling medieval town unfolds before me.
People fill the streets, their voices mixing into a lively, chaotic symphony. Some are chatting, some are playing music, others are hauling goods in wooden carts. The town is noisy, vibrant, full of energy.
But… the clothes.
They're all wearing old-fashioned outfits.
Tunics. Cloaks. Simple dresses.
Some people are literally wearing armor. A few even have swords strapped to their waists, like they've just stepped out of an RPG.
I blink.
Hard.
This has to be some kind of joke.
Then, as if the universe really wants to mess with me, a carriage rolls by.
Not a car. Not even a horse-drawn carriage.
No.
A gigantic, plump white bird is pulling it—a bird so ridiculously oversized that it looks like someone crossed a chicken with a zeppelin.
My jaw unhinges.
And just when I think I've seen it all—
A girl strolls past, tail swishing behind her.
A real tail.
Not a fake cosplay tail. Not an accessory. A real, fluffy, raccoon-like tail, swaying naturally with her steps. Her round, animal-like ears twitch at the sounds around her, the same way a cat's would.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
My heart pounds against my ribs.
Everything. Everything is clicking into place.
The medieval town. The giant bird. The girl with actual animal features.
This can't be real.
And yet—
It makes too much sense.
Like the novels I've read. Like every fantasy anime and manga I've ever devoured.
I didn't survive the truck crash.
I've died…
And been reincarnated into a fantasy world.
————————————-
So… if I've been reincarnated, does that mean I'm still me? The 25-year-old corporate drone who worked 70-hour weeks like a masochist?
I turn slowly, trying to get my bearings.
Then—something on the wall catches my eye.
My heart skips a beat.
Wait…
That isn't my shadow.
Perched atop its head are cat ears. And there—attached to its backside—a tail.
A tail.
I freeze. My breath hitches, my pulse pounding like a drum solo.
I stare down at my hands—
AND—
THESE. ARE. NOT. MY. HANDS!
Why are my arms so slender? Why is my skin so smooth?
And my muscles—
No.
Noooooooooooooo!
They're gone! All of them! Not even a trace of the ones I spent years sculpting like a gym rat on a protein-fueled crusade!
Wait…
Does this mean—
I'm a girl?!
UOOOOOOOHHHH!!!
My brain spirals into a vortex of disbelief.
I look down—
And there it is. Confirmation.
I'm wearing a white dress.
So… that means I must be a girl.
Right?
RIGHT???
BUT—
WHY THE HELL IS MY CHEST SO FLAT?!
Even my past self had a bigger chest than this! What's the point of being reincarnated as a girl if I don't even get the full package?!
So… am I really a girl?
Or… just a femboy?!
There's only one way to know for sure.
My heart pounds, my breath quickening as the realization slams into me.
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
I have to do it. The ultimate test.
Thus—
With a trembling hand, I reach down, hovering hesitantly. My fingers quiver, my pulse roaring in my ears like a battlefield drum.
My dear lil' bro…
My mind races, teetering between hope and horror.
Is he still there…
Or not?
———————————————-
Moments later….
"Ohhh shieeettttt!"
Yup.
Lil' bro is gone.
I collapse onto the floor, clutching my head, my mind unraveling like a cheap sweater in a hurricane.
I can't process this. I can't comprehend this.
I've been isekai'd. Reincarnated.
But not as myself.
Not as the 25-year-old man I once was.
I'm a catgirl.
Holy. Freaking. Shit.
And yet—
I still don't know how to feel about this.
On one hand… this is awesome.
I mean, come on. I've dreamed of being a catgirl. Living the ultimate fantasy—cute ears, a tail, a whole new body. This is peak wish-fulfillment material. Chef's kiss.
And sure, I'm flat, but honestly? Kinda prefer it that way. Less back pain, right?
But on the other hand…
What now?
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
Everything's happening too fast.
In the blink of an eye, I've lost everything.
My family. My friends. My waifus. The comforts of modern life.
No more Wi-Fi. No more memes. No more late-night pizza deliveries.
Now, I'm stranded. Alone. In a world I don't understand.
Fear slithers through me, wrapping tight around my chest.
I'm scared.
Terrified.
And I have no idea what happens next.