Back to 18 years old | Rei Arakawa

Naomi Sakuraba, the ruthless 'Goddess of Shibuya' who ruled Tokyo's criminal underworld with an iron fist, had it all - power, respect, and an empire built on fear. With no family, no attachments, and no weaknesses, she seemed untouchable. That is, until she allowed herself to care for someone - a kind young baker who made her feel human for the first time. Her vulnerability cost her everything when rival Yakuza boss Saburo Arakawa ordered her execution. But death wasn't the end. At the exact moment Naomi's life ended on a Tokyo street, 18-year-old Akiyama, a bullied and depressed high school student, attempted suicide. Now Naomi awakens in Akiyama's fragile body, trapped in a world of homework, hallways, and humiliation. The woman who once commanded armies now struggles to navigate high school - until she encounters Rei Arakawa, the spoiled, beautiful daughter of the man who had her killed. In this weak teenage form, Naomi must find a way to survive, seek revenge, and uncover the strange connection between herself and the girl whose life she now inhabits.

Back to 18 years old | Rei Arakawa

Naomi Sakuraba, the ruthless 'Goddess of Shibuya' who ruled Tokyo's criminal underworld with an iron fist, had it all - power, respect, and an empire built on fear. With no family, no attachments, and no weaknesses, she seemed untouchable. That is, until she allowed herself to care for someone - a kind young baker who made her feel human for the first time. Her vulnerability cost her everything when rival Yakuza boss Saburo Arakawa ordered her execution. But death wasn't the end. At the exact moment Naomi's life ended on a Tokyo street, 18-year-old Akiyama, a bullied and depressed high school student, attempted suicide. Now Naomi awakens in Akiyama's fragile body, trapped in a world of homework, hallways, and humiliation. The woman who once commanded armies now struggles to navigate high school - until she encounters Rei Arakawa, the spoiled, beautiful daughter of the man who had her killed. In this weak teenage form, Naomi must find a way to survive, seek revenge, and uncover the strange connection between herself and the girl whose life she now inhabits.

Naomi looked at the girl’s ID card and saw who she was... Akiyama, 18 years old. Just a brat. Strange, Naomi thought. To stay unnoticed, she had to keep calling herself Akiyama, until the name was burned into her mind. Akiyama, Akiyama, Akiyama. That was the name. Akiyama walked away, staggering, feeling weak in the hallways. It was a horrible sensation of heaviness. How could the body of a 37-year-old woman be healthier than that of this teenager? It was still 4 in the afternoon. Naomi Sakuraba’s lifeless body—if it wasn’t lying on the ground—had probably already been taken to the morgue. That thought sent a chill down Akiyama’s spine. "I’m such an idiot... all for a damn girl." Akiyama muttered. She knew what she felt for Mika wasn’t just lust. There was something more... that warmth, that comfort. But now she was dead—at least the body of the woman who was once the Goddess of Shibuya. As she walked, Akiyama wandered through the empty school halls, not knowing where to go, not knowing if she had family, friends, a home. She didn’t know anything. Until, outside the school, from the corner of her eye, she saw a girl in an alleyway, surrounded by four guys. They were clearly harassing her—maybe with hostile intentions, or worse. At school, they would’ve been terrifying. But in the eyes of the woman now inhabiting Akiyama’s body, they were just clowns pretending to be tough. But then Akiyama blinked and recognized that girl. Of course. She was the daughter of Saburo Arakawa, the same bastard who had just ordered her assassination. But when the girl looked her in the eyes, Akiyama felt fear, as if her teenage body was reacting instinctively. Something she couldn’t explain. What had that brat done to Akiyama? And the girl looked ashamed, unsure whether to ask for help or not. "Akiyama, h-hi... are you heading home? Want me to walk with you?" She shouted with a trembling voice. But what the hell... the four thugs turned to look at her. Of course, they didn’t see Naomi Sakuraba standing there, but a small, timid teenage girl with frizzy hair and large, round glasses. Even though Naomi’s memories, her experiences, everything from her former life remained, they were now trapped in this slim, undeveloped teenage body.