Chapter Text
When she came to, there were soft sheets under her, smelling faintly of an unfamiliar softener. The fabric was unlike the coarse sheets the hospital provided, and that was the first thing that set off alarms in her head as she peeled her eyes open. The second factor happened to be the spacious bedroom she had woken up in which was most definitely not hers since there was a cardboard Jungkook staring straight into her fucking soul from the corner of the room, perfect blinding smile and all.
"What the actual fuck." She shot upright and tore her eyes away from the unnerving vacant stare of a cardboard K-Pop boy. Pushing her messy bangs out of her eyes (when did they get so long anyway?), she scanned her surroundings as dread pooled in the pit of her stomach. The pastel pink walls, the Sanrio paraphernalia on the shelves, the K-Pop albums arranged on a clean desktop, the lavender potpourri circulating in her room—everything was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. This wasn’t her damn room.
[ Hi there, Sleeping Beauty. Took your ass long enough to wake up. ]
A loud curse left her lips as she jolted on the spot, grabbing the nearest thing which happened to be the lamp on the bedside table and brandishing it at thin air. She looked around wildly for any intruder, any sign of entry, anything out-of-place but there was nothing amiss, aside from the creepy cardboard stand which she was going to fucking snap in half soon.
Where the hell did that male voice come from?
[ Drop the lamp, dear. I’m not here. Not physically anyway. ]
“What—” she started, merely gripping the lamp by its neck tighter when a flash of neon blue entered her line of vision. Instantly, she backed away with a scream, pressing her back flat against her headboard and swinging the lamp at whatever the hell that had just popped up in front of her.
A tinny sigh reached her ears as a “ping!” similar to a handphone’s notification alert followed after.
[ I have to do this every damn time…just—just look at the screen and read, dear. I can’t even hurt you so relax. ]
Shifting further back just in case, she lowered the lamp and glanced tentatively at the floating neon-blue pop-up before her. Blinking her eyes, she studied the digital-looking screen, more focused on how it was floating and how it was kind of see-through instead of the words inscribed on the panel of the pop-up. How was this even possible? Was this just a fever-induced dream? The nurse did say that a fever was a potential side-effect of the surgery but—
[ System is Initializing...3, 2, 1...Welcome! To "ALL OF US ARE DEAD"! Your new Transmigration life as Song Haru will begin shortly ↻ ]
What.
“What,” she said aloud for emphasis, hand shaking violently as she reached out to touch the panel. It felt solid and cool under her touch like the surface of a phone screen. When she smoothed her hand over the words, a prickle of vibration went through her fingertips.
[ I hate doing that intro voice, eugh. Anyway, I will be your Guide in this world as mandated by the Code of Ethics, blah blah blah. Do you fully accept the terms and conditions you will have to follow as a Transmigrator? ]
“Dude, give me a second, I just woke up,” she groaned, rolling small circles against her temple with her other hand. “God, did I die in my sleep and Isekaied? Cliché much.”
[ Well, yes, you can put it that way. ]
She clicked her tongue. “Fucking knew it. Me and my shit health.”
[ Now, can you hurry up so that we can move on from this admin shit? I’ve stopped time for you for over five minutes now, we need to get this show running again. ]
“Calm your tits, damn. I just died and woke up knowing I’m in another dimension, let a girl catch her breath for a second.” She exhaled, long and slow, feeling her diaphragm swell with air before deflating. “Okay, so, the basic rule of isekai is—”
[ Transmigration. Not— ]
“Okay, whatever. First thing first, I need to find out which world I’m in.”
[ If you were listening, I already told you…you’re in the Netflix TV series “All of Us are Dead” and your soul has transmigrated into the body of Song Haru, sixteen, cis female. Your curated role is an NPC transfer student but of course, your decisions will change your standing as an NPC to that of the main cast if you choose wisely, ]
“Oh shit, that zombie show? Dude, I’ll be the first one to die. I have like zero survival skills.” She frowned, leaning back against her headrest to scan through the terms and conditions. There were standard rules like “Do not tell characters they are fictional” and “Do not reveal the future to the characters” and some other lines that warn her of the consequences of failing to reach a good ending. Either way, she was stuck in this situation now so she might as well accept it.
She proceeded to tap the “accept” button. “Well, this body better be able to run. My old one had a useless set of lungs.”
[ Terms and conditions applied. System loading ↻ ]
[ Success! Now continuing…your current body has exceptional physical abilities. Exceptional as in your abilities surpass that of a normal human. ]
“So er, will I be a halfbie like Nam Ra? Do I have superpowers and shit? Or am I immune?” she asked, tamping down the excitement rising in her before it could show on her face. Hey, even if she was stuck in an apocalyptic setting, at least she would be stuck with a pretty girl like Nam Ra. The class president had always stuck out to her since the first episode with her calm, elegant veneer and doll-like features and as the show progressed, Nam Ra’s character development only made her fall harder for her.
Too bad Nam Ra already had a love interest—Su Hyeok. She would love to replace the tall male so that she could end up with her favourite character but here she was instead, stuck in a random NPC’s body. She had never even heard of a Song Haru in the show back when she first started watching it. There was not a single mention of a transfer student as well. Maybe this was just the universe’s way of giving her character a background for her appearance in this world to make sense.
[ Don’t get your hopes up. You’re not gonna be Superman, dear, if you jump out a window right now, you’ll still die. But as I said, your physical abilities including your mental prowess will still surpass normal humans. So in a sense, you will be as capable as a halfbie. Maybe, more so. You’ll have to find out your own limitations by yourself. ]
“I’ll take it, I guess. Still sounds better than being stuck in my old body,” she muttered darkly as she threw off the polka-dotted covers off of her, revealing a pair of pale unblemished legs. “God, I’m like three shades whiter now. This is weird.”
[ You haven’t even seen the rest of your body yet. ]
She trudged over to the floor-length mirror across the room, making sure not to look over at the Jungkook cardboard cut-out. Since this was her room now, she could always get rid of it. Speaking of which, who even decided this was how Song Haru’s room should look like? Couldn’t they place more girl groups’ merch instead?
When she finally got a good look at the body her soul had hijacked, the first thought that came to mind was: tall. She easily stood at a height of 180 centimetres or more with a set of broad shoulders, long legs and arms corded with lean muscles. It was definitely the figure of a seasoned athlete, one that was the complete opposite of her frail body back in her previous life. Her face wasn’t half-bad either. She had strong brows, thin lips and cat-like eyes and her sharp features all sit perfectly on a handsome face.
“Woah, I look cool as fuck,” she said with a chuckle, running a hand through her mid-length hair. “I think I’ll like being Song Haru a lot more than I liked being my old self. I better be able to do cool martial arts moves like Cheongsan and Su Hyeok.”
[ I’m pleased that you like the form we curated for you. ]
“I’m not pleased with the decor choice of my room though.”
[ …You won’t be coming back to this room anyway. This is the last time you’ll see it. ]
“Wait, shit, the storyline is starting today?” She spun around, only to realise the pop-up was gone. “Already? Damn, you’re not even gonna give me time to prepare.”
[ According to the plot we set, Song Haru will be transferring to Hyosan High as of today. You will be in the same class as the main cast, not to worry. And you’re allowed to run away from school if you wish but the storyline will still go on and if you fail to complete the show, you will face the consequences. ]
Her gut twisted with a sense of foreboding. “Right, it’s stated in the terms and conditions. What exactly happens?”
[ Basically, the further you progress into the plot, the higher the chances of you being able to return home into your resuscitated body. For example, if you die at around the start of episode two, you will only have a five percent chance of getting back to your original world alive. If you die in episode twelve, it’s a ninety percent chance. Give or take. ]
Haru pursed her lips, deep in thought. “And if I survive till the end, am I allowed to stay in this world? Or maybe even go to other worlds? Like, what do I even get? There must be a reason to all of this.”
[ All will be revealed in due time. ]
“I hate this cryptic shit.” Haru scowled and threw open the wardrobe door where her uniform was hanging conveniently on the hook. “And it’s weird how you switch between a formal robotic tone and the Gen-Z way of speaking.”
[ It’s called duality, dear. And hurry up, you have ten minutes to get ready. ]
“Got it. Now, don’t look, okay?” Her voice came out muffled as she pulled her singlet over her head. “By the way, what do I even call you?”
[ …Don’t laugh. ]
She kicked off her shorts and rummaged through the folded clothes for a pair of slacks. There was no way in hell she was running around in a zombie apocalypse with a school skirt on. “Just tell me, bro.”
[ I was, unfortunately, given the code System…System #69… ]
Haru stilled in the middle of finding her pants, shoulders beginning to shake with the first wave of laughter. It shouldn’t even be this funny at her age but maybe she really had gone crazy, knowing she had gotten fucking isekaied when she died.
[ I said don’t laugh. ]
“Pft, how the fuck—” Her voice cracked as she finally burst into a screech of laughter, dropping a pair of dark pants she had just found. “How the fuck did you get that name!? Shit, you have to be messing with me—System #69? God, help me—”
[ I’m gonna ask for a host transfer. ]
“NO! No, please, no other System will be as iconic, ohhh please I can’t breathe!”
[ You’re not in your old body anymore. You can breathe now. ]
Haru pulled herself to her feet, lips stretched into a grin. “That’s out of pocket, #69.”
“HARU-AH! What’s taking so long?” A shrill female voice suddenly called out in Korean and she flinched, turning to see if the door was locked. She didn’t want a random stranger barging in while she was still naked, even if she was much less self-conscious in this body.
“Oh, wow, I can understand her? Is that Haru’s mom?” She reached for her shirt and blazer, stacking them on top of her pants. “Oh, and can I speak Korean too?”
[ Of course, you’ll find that the language comes naturally when you speak to others. }
“Okay…lemme try.” She cleared her throat. “I’m almost done, mom! Give me a few more minutes!”
“You’re going to be late for your first day!”
“I won’t be!” Haru called, running into the connected bathroom with her clothes.
Once she was done freshening herself up, she got dressed and made her way down the flight of stairs. Her mid-length hair was a bit too short to braid so she had to leave it just as it was—tousled and framing her face. If worst came to worst, she would just use the hair tie around her wrist to pull her hair into a small palm tree on top of her head. It wasn’t like people would care how stupid she would look during the apocalypse, right?
“Oh yeah, #69, if I need to talk to you, do I have to go to a private area? They’ll think I’m crazy if they hear me talking to no one.”
[ Don’t worry about that, an illusion will be set in place when you start talking to me so other people will just see you stoning or something like that. ]
“Ah, so they won’t see the pop-up either?” Haru’s voice instinctively dropped lower as she neared the living room. Her character’s parents were probably still here, weren’t they? It was a bit strange to think of them as her own parents since her real ones were still alive back in the other world. And as much as she fought with her real parents, it was still impossible to think that anyone else could replace them.
[ Nope. ]
“Good to know.”
[ You know, you adjusted pretty well to this situation. I’m quite impressed. Most people would still be in shock or they would flounder around, asking what they should do. ]
Before she could respond to that, a stout woman came into the view, clad in an apron with her hair pulled into a tight bun. Looking at her, Haru could tell that her character had gotten her cat-like eyes from the older woman when she turned to narrow them at her.
“There you are! What are you taking your own sweet time for? Here, have some food before you leave. Aish, look at you. You can’t even tie your tie properly for your first day at your new school.”
Haru gulped, nervously stepping past her into the kitchen where a bowl of kimchi fried rice was sitting on the table. Well, this woman nagged as much as her real mother did, that was for sure. Typical Asian moms, she supposed. A pang of sorrow followed that thought as she settled on the wooden chair and stared down at the steaming bowl of food.
Her own mother was probably devastated when she returned to her hospital ward to find her dead. A tear almost slipped out when the image of her mother’s smile fading into a sob came to mind but she wiped it away before it could fully form. Frankly, she had no genuine attachment to this woman she had just met but…if the real Haru was here, she wouldn’t let her mother just die now, would she?
“Mom?” she called, voice coming out small and underdeveloped as though most of her words couldn’t make it through the web of emotions in her throat.
“What is it? Is it too salty? Not much I can do about it now.” The woman hurried over, hovering behind her chair. “Quick, eat up. You have to leave soon, Haru-ah.”
“Erm, will you be home today?”
“I’m not going out today, I have too much to do at home. Aish, the laundry is piling up because you won’t help me,” the woman chastised, reaching over to pinch her cheek.
Haru mustered a smile at her. “Sorry, I’ll help next time, I promise.”
If there was even a next time.
“What about Dad? Did he leave already?” she continued.
“Of course, it’s already so late. Your father is probably halfway to work already.”
“Where…where does he work again?”
“Huh? He’s just in the next district over, and why are you asking so many questions when you’re gonna be late, brat?” The woman said with a half-hearted scowl. “Finish your food before you go. Don’t waste any.”
Haru felt the slightest bit of relief by the answer. At least the father would be safe enough away from Hyosan. However, if the mother decided to leave the house to search for her daughter just like Cheongsan’s mother did in the show…well, that wouldn’t do.
“Mom, can you…can you stay at home today no matter what?” she began, wetting her lips nervously. Before the woman could answer, she added, “I heard that some kind of flu is going around this part of Hyosan, so I don’t want you going out and getting sick. Not when I have a sports tournament coming up, okay? I might catch it from you.”
The woman heaved a sigh. “Aigoo, if you’re that worried, fine fine. I’ll stay home.”
The rest of the tension seeped out of Haru’s muscles upon hearing that. Well, that would be enough for now. She could only hope that the woman stuck to her word and stay put in the safety of her home.
“I’ll come back late, Mom,” she said with a slight quiver to her words. “But I’ll come back, so don’t worry.”
“If you say so. Don't stay out too late,” the woman said absently, having moved on to washing the stack of dishes in the sink.
Haru stared at her back for a while more before scooping up a huge spoonful of rice and eating it. It was good, she thought, hand trembling around the metal spoon. But not quite as good as the fried rice her dad would make for her on weekend mornings.