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MidReal Story
Girl Swap! The Unexpected Transformation
Scenario:A boy who was classmates with a girl he hated. They were enemies. One day the girl and him goes to an abandoned classroom and the girl told him to drink a potion, though reluctant he decided to drink it and he collapsed. He then woke up and found out he or now she is in a feminine room, she panicked and looked at the mirror. There was a Korean girl wearing a pink a fluffy pink jacket that resembles a winter jacket. After some days her style of walking and sitting became more feminine and after one week she started to become more comfortable with feminine stuff. After some weeks her old memories dissapeared and she now only remembers a Korean girl and knows that she's always been a cute Korean girl
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Ethan
He is a high school boy who despises a girl in his class, yet finds himself in a strange situation with her. He is curious, stubborn, and confused. One day, Ethan reluctantly drinks a mysterious potion in an abandoned classroom with his classmate, Linda. After waking up in a unfamiliar room, he discovers that he has switched bodies with Linda. Initially confused about his new feminine appearance, Ethan struggles to adjust to his changed identity and realizes that he now identifies as a girl.
Linda
She is a girl from Ethan's high school class, whom he dislikes but follows due to curiosity. She is intelligent, bold, and confident. One day, Linda persuades Ethan to drink a mysterious potion in an abandoned classroom. After the incident, she reveals that they have switched bodies and helps Ethan adjust to his new identity as a girl. Despite their initial animosity, Linda becomes one of the few people who understand and supports Ethan's transformation.
I hate this girl.
She's in my class, and I hate everything about her.
Her stupid smile, her annoying laugh, the way she always raises her hand to answer questions.
I don't even know her name, but I know I don't like her.
I was following her out of curiosity.
She was walking toward the abandoned classroom on the other side of the school when I decided to follow her.
I didn't know what she was going to do in there, but I was curious.
When she pushed the door open and went inside, I waited for a few seconds before sneaking in after her.
"Are you sure this is okay?"
I whispered to her.
She turned around and looked at me, surprised, then smiled when she saw my confused expression.
"Of course it's okay," she said.
"What are you doing here?"
"I followed you."
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"You hate me, right?"
I nodded.
"Yeah."
"Why did you follow me then?"
"I don't know."
I shrugged.
"I just wanted to see what you were going to do."
She chuckled and shook her head.
"You're weird," she said.
"But since you're here anyway, drink this."
She held out a small vial filled with a pink liquid and raised an eyebrow at me.
"What is it?"
I asked.
She just smiled and waited for me to make a decision.
After some hesitation, I decided to drink it.
My vision blurs as the sweet-tasting liquid burns down my throat.
The classroom spins, and my legs give out from under me.
I see her standing over me, her smile widening as she says something that sounds like "goodbye" in my ears.
Everything goes black.
When consciousness returns, I'm lying in a bed with pink sheets and stuffed animals surrounding me.
I look around and realize that I'm not in my room.
Panic sets in as I sit up and try to remember how I ended up here.
But my memories are hazy, and I can't seem to piece together what happened last night.
I glance down at myself and notice that my hair is longer than usual, falling past my shoulders in dark waves.
Confused, I stumble out of bed and rush to the full-length mirror mounted on a pastel-colored wall.
As I approach the glass, I see a girl staring back at me - but it's not the girl I expect to see.
Instead of my usual self, I see a Korean girl with delicate features and long black hair.
Stumbling to my feet, I grip the edge of the vanity to steady myself.
The mirror shows a delicate face with high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes framed by thick black lashes.
My hair is straight and falls past my shoulders in soft waves.
I reach up to touch my reflection, and my hand shakes as I run my fingers over the soft pink fabric of the winter jacket I'm wearing.
It's puffy and feminine, with a fur-lined hood that frames my face.
I try to speak, but instead of my own voice, I hear a higher, softer voice coming from my lips.
The room spins slightly as I try to process what's happening.
When I take a step back, the Korean girl in the mirror mimics my movement, her dark eyes wide with confusion and disbelief.
I walk over to my desk, drawn to the diary sitting there.
Something feels off about it - instead of my usual plain navy journal, there's a pink book covered in sparkly heart stickers and cute Korean characters.
My hands shake as I open it.
The pages are filled with familiar vacation photos from my life, but in every single one, the Korean girl from the mirror stands where I should be - smiling at the beach, posing by landmarks, celebrating birthdays.
Even more unsettling are the diary entries themselves, written in a delicate, looping script with little hearts dotting the i's.
I hear Mom calling from downstairs, telling me to hurry up or I'll be late for school.
My heart races as I turn away from the diary and walk over to the closet.
I open the doors, and my breath catches in my throat at what I see.
Instead of my usual t-shirts and jeans, the closet is filled with pastel-colored sweaters and pleated skirts.
There are frilly dresses and blouses with puffy sleeves, all in soft shades of pink and baby blue.
I reach out a shaking hand to touch one of the dresses, feeling the smooth fabric against my fingertips.
It's so soft and delicate, like something out of a fairy tale.
I pull out a crisp white blouse and a navy skirt that falls just above the knees.
The fabric feels cool against my skin as I change into the uniform.
It's like I've worn it countless times before - the way it drapes over my body feels natural and comfortable. When I finish dressing, I stand in front of the mirror to adjust the red bow tie around my neck and smooth down my skirt.
The girl in the reflection stares back at me a cute Korean girl that looks like some KPop member, her eyes filled with wonder and long hair
She's petite, with delicate features and long black hair that falls past her shoulders in soft waves.
Her cheeks are rosy, and she has a small mole on her left cheek that adds to her charm.
I can't help but stare at myself - I've never seen anyone so pretty before, let alone realized that I could be that person myself.
I sit down on the stool in front of the vanity and pick up a brush.
It feels heavy in my small hands, but I know exactly what to do with it.
I start brushing my hair, working out the tangles with gentle strokes.
The bristles glide through the silky strands, and I watch as they catch the light and shine like black diamonds.
It's so long and soft - I can't believe it's mine.
As I brush, I notice how my hands move gracefully, almost like they're dancing through my hair.
My head tilts slightly to one side as I smile at myself in the mirror, just like all the other Korean girls I've seen.
I glance over at the pink jacket hanging on the back of my chair, and something inside me stirs.
Without thinking, I lean forward and press my soft lips against the cool surface of the mirror. When I pull away, I see a smudge of pink lipstick left behind.
My cheeks flush as I realize what I've done - it's not something that comes naturally to me, but somehow, it feels right.
I run my fingertips over my reflection's face, tracing the delicate lines of her features.
She really is pretty - her eyes are large and expressive, her nose small and slightly upturned.
I take a deep breath and stand up, smoothing down my skirt and picking up the pink backpack that sits by the door.
My new delicate hands clutch the straps tightly as I make my way out into the hallway.
The sound of my heels clicking against the floor echoes through the empty corridor, and I can't help but smile at how grown-up I feel.
As I walk down the hall, I notice other girls turning to look at me.
Some of them wave or call out "Mina!" - apparently, that's my new name.
I wave back shyly, feeling a little overwhelmed by all the attention.
When I get to class, I take my seat in the front row and pull out my books.
As I sit down, I catch myself almost sprawling in my chair like I used to before - but then I remember that's not how girls sit anymore. Instead, I cross my legs demurely and place my hands on top of them.
Linda gives me a knowing look from across the room, and I can tell she's proud of me for adjusting so quickly.
Throughout the day, things only get more surreal.
At lunchtime, a group of giggling girls pulls me over to their table and starts talking about boys they like.
They ask me who I think is cute, and when I hesitate, they tease me good-naturedly about being shy.
I try to join in their conversation, but it feels forced and unnatural - this isn't how I usually talk with friends.
It's like there's a disconnect between what's happening inside me and what's coming out through my words. As we eat our sandwiches and chips, one of the girls mentions something about her favorite K-pop band, and suddenly everyone starts gushing about their favorite groups and members.
I listen quietly for a moment before realizing that they're waiting for me to contribute too.
I clear my throat nervously and say something about how much I love BTS - even though it feels strange coming from my mouth.
The girls squeal excitedly at my response, clapping their hands together in delight.
"See? We knew you'd be one of us!"
They all start talking at once again, sharing stories about concerts they've been to or fan merchandise they've bought online.
It feels like there's no room left for me in this conversation anymore - it's as if they've taken over completely with their own interests and passions. After lunch is over, we head back to class for another round of lessons before break time arrives once more.
As the bell rings, Linda pulls me aside, her eyes searching mine.
"Do you remember anything from before?" she asks softly, her voice tinged with concern.
I hesitate, glancing around at the bustling hallway, then whisper, "It's like I'm living someone else's life, but I don't know how to get back to mine."
I sit at my pink desk, opening the diary that still feels both familiar and foreign.
My delicate fingers trace over the old entries, now decorated with cute Korean stickers and hearts.
I turn to a fresh page and begin writing about today's events.
As I scribble down my thoughts, I notice how my handwriting has changed - it's rounder and more feminine than before, almost as if I've been practicing it without realizing.
The Korean characters flow easily from my pen, mixed in with English words here and there.
When I finish writing, I close the diary and lean back in my chair, letting out a deep breath.
My eyes wander around the room, taking in all the little details that make it feel so different from before.
The bed is covered in plush stuffed animals, each one wearing matching outfits.
There's a collection of K-pop CDs on the shelf next to my desk, alongside books filled with colorful illustrations of Korean folklore. A soft knock on the door breaks me out of my reverie, and I hear Mom calling up from downstairs that dinner is ready.
I stand up and make my way down to the kitchen, where she has prepared bulgogi for us - apparently, it's my favorite dish now.
As we eat together at the table, Mom asks about school and what happened during the day.
I tell her about meeting new friends and trying to adjust to everything being so different.
She listens attentively, nodding her head and making supportive noises whenever I need them.
After dinner is over, I head back upstairs to get ready for bed.
I change into a silk pajama set adorned with cherry blossoms - it feels soft against my skin as I slip it on. As I climb under the covers, I reach for the plush bunny sitting on top of my pillow.
Just as I'm about to turn off the light, Linda knocks softly on my door and peeks inside.
"Are you okay?" she asks, her voice low and concerned.
I nod, feeling a little overwhelmed by everything that's happened today.
Linda steps closer, her eyes scanning my face.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
I shake my head, trying to reassure her.
"It's just... this is all so new to me. I keep thinking about my old life and wondering how I ended up here."
Linda smiles gently and reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
"You'll adjust in no time," she says softly.
"Just remember that you're not alone. We're all here for you."
I nod again, feeling a sense of comfort wash over me.
Linda turns off the light and whispers goodnight before closing the door behind her.
The room falls into darkness, and I close my eyes, trying to find some peace.
Just as I'm drifting off, a soft voice echoes in my mind, "Mina, you must remember."
I sit up abruptly, heart pounding, whispering into the night, "Who's there?"
The pink alarm clock on my nightstand chimes softly, pulling me out of slumber.
I stretch my arms above my head, feeling the softness of my pajamas against my skin.
My small hands flex as I arch my back, giving a good yawn to signal that I'm awake.
Without thinking, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and slip my feet into the fluffy bunny slippers waiting for me on the floor.
As I stand up, I run a hand through my silky black hair, smoothing out any tangles from sleep.
Something feels different about my movements today - they're more fluid and natural, like I've been doing this for years.
I walk over to the vanity and sit down in front of the mirror.
As I adjust the lace collar of my pajamas, I notice how gracefully my fingers move.
It's as if they have a mind of their own now, performing actions that come from muscle memory rather than conscious thought. I lean forward to examine my reflection more closely.
My eyes are large and expressive, framed by thick lashes that add depth to their darkness.
My nose is small and slightly upturned, giving me a delicate appearance that matches the rest of my features.
I tilt my head to one side as I study myself, noticing how effortlessly my shoulders relax into a graceful pose.
It's strange to think that just a few days ago, I was someone completely different - someone who didn't know how to be a girl like this.
But now, it feels like second nature.
"Mina! Breakfast is ready!"
Mom calls out from downstairs, breaking me out of my thoughts.
I practically skip down the hallway, my bunny slippers making soft padding sounds against the floor.
As I reach the kitchen, Mom looks up with a warm smile.
"Did you sleep well, sweetheart?" she asks, setting a plate of pancakes on the table.
I nod, hesitating before blurting out, "Mom, do you ever feel like you're living someone else's life?"
