Everyone Loved the New Teacher… Nobody Knew She Was Their Old Professor
A few exchanged discreet glances.
Others simply stopped talking.
Most of them, however, looked relieved.
After all, following nearly a year of dealing with the possibility of having Harold Quinton back in that classroom, any substitute teacher would have been welcomed as a blessing.
Harold Quinton had been a Science teacher for more than twenty years. At fifty-eight, he had thinning gray hair, a prominent belly, permanent dark circles beneath his eyes, and a temperament so sour that his students had given him a nickname they would never dare say to his face:
The Grumpy One.
He hated noise.
He hated questions he considered obvious.
He hated group projects.
And, above all, he hated the very subject he taught.
Not because he didn't understand science.
Quite the opposite.
Harold was extremely competent.
The problem was that, somewhere along the way, he had simply stopped enjoying it.
His career had stagnated. His former colleagues had retired or moved on to better universities, while he remained stuck teaching the same lessons, using the same slides, and correcting the same exercises year after year.
Then one experiment changed everything.
That afternoon, Harold was demonstrating a reaction involving an experimental solution of mutagenic catalysts.
It was exactly the kind of experiment he considered "far too irresponsible for teenagers."
— And this is why you must not touch anything without permission — he grumbled, adjusting his glasses. — Especially this flask.
Naturally, it was the flask that exploded.
CRASH!
A blue-green cloud engulfed the laboratory.
The students screamed.
The alarm went off.
When the smoke finally began to clear, Harold was lying unconscious on the floor.
Nobody could have imagined that the explosion had just changed his entire life.
Harold spent several days in the hospital.
At first, the doctors believed the effects would be temporary.
They were wrong.
The first changes seemed almost harmless.
His gray hair began to darken.
Then it became thicker.
And longer.
Much longer.
Within days, the strands had become glossy, black, and straight, falling all the way down his back.
The strangest part was that Harold had been blond when he was young.
Then came the changes to his face.
The deep lines across his forehead disappeared.
The marks created by decades of irritated expressions softened.
His features became more delicate.
Younger.
Harold stared at himself in the hospital mirror, unable to believe what he was seeing.
— This can't be happening...
Then came the change that finally sent him into a panic.
His body began changing rapidly.
His bone structure shifted. His waist became narrower. His shoulders became smaller. His hands became delicate and feminine.
And when he finally realized that his voice had changed as well, Harold completely lost control.
— Nurse!
The voice that came from his throat was high-pitched, feminine, and completely unfamiliar.
He froze.
Then tried again.
— I want to get out of here!
The same strange voice answered him.
Harold covered his face with both hands.
— Oh, for God's sake...
For the first time in nearly sixty years, he had encountered a problem he couldn't solve with science.
And that terrified him.
The following months were difficult.
Harold practically locked himself inside his house.
He didn't want visitors.
He didn't want interviews.
He didn't want doctors.
And he definitely didn't want mirrors.
He tried wearing oversized clothes to hide the transformation, but quickly discovered that it wasn't that simple.
The transformation hadn't merely changed his sex.
It had completely rejuvenated his body.
His face now belonged to a young woman. His black hair reached almost to his waist, and his former appearance as a tired, middle-aged professor had completely disappeared.
At first, Harold hated it.
Then, slowly, he began experimenting with little things.
A different haircut.
A new pair of glasses.
Different clothes.
Until, after months of fighting with his reflection, he realized something deeply uncomfortable:
He was beginning to like the person staring back at him.
Not necessarily the transformation itself.
But the feeling of finally having a life that seemed...
new.
And that was when he decided to choose a name.
Hana.
He didn't know exactly why.
Perhaps because he needed to leave Harold behind.
Perhaps because he wanted to mark the beginning of a new chapter.
Or perhaps because, after nearly sixty years of living as someone who didn't want to be where he was, he finally had the opportunity to discover who he could become.
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