Back when I was an ordinary high school girl in Japan, I never would’ve imagined that I’d one day be reborn in another world as a saint, grow up, and then end up walking the path of a plant monster, an Alraune of all things.
Neither my high school self nor my saintly self could’ve seen that coming.

Still, plants weren’t completely foreign to me, Komurasaki Ayame, back when I was just a quiet high school girl.

I was the type who secretly loved anime, manga, and games but kept it hidden from everyone.
A “closet otaku,” you could say.
At school, I’d usually spend my free time alone, reading books instead.

Maybe people mistook me for one of those literary girls, but honestly?
Most of what I read were encyclopedias on subjects like animals, fish or dinosaurs, but the one I read (and loved) the most was about plants.

It started out as just a way to kill time at school, but before I knew it, I’d become the kind of girl who genuinely loved admiring flowers.
Still, it was just a hobby. It’s not like I actually knew much about plants.

Even so, I had heard the name “Alraune” before.
I mean, I was an otaku after all.
I only knew it as something imaginary, but I’d once read about a plant that seemed kind of similar in a book.

That plant was the mandrake.
The mandrakes did actually exist on Earth.

In fiction, the mandrake, also called “mandragora”, often shows up as an ingredient in potions and such.
You’ve probably heard the story about how it screams when pulled out of the ground, and how hearing that scream knocks you out cold.
They even appear in some famous movies with wizards, right?

And then I remembered another important detail:
The mandrake belongs to the nightshade family.
It doesn’t look like one at all, which is probably why that fact stuck in my head.

That got me thinking.
Maybe, just maybe, Alraunes are related to mandrakes as distant cousins or something.
They’re both plant monsters that grow from the ground, after all.
And come to think of it, one of the books I read back in Japan even listed Alraunes as a kind of mandrake.

So if that’s true, then that means…
I’m a nightshade too!?

I mean, I like eggplants, sure, but not so much that I’d want to become one!

If I remember right, nightshades have perfect flowers, meaning the flower contains both a stamen and pistil .
But in my current body and corolla, there doesn’t seem to be any stamen at all.
Which would mean that the stamens degenerated as the pistil evolved, leaving me a female-only flower.

So… yeah.
I guess that means my gender is definitely female.

Even if I have the body of a woman, I’m still technically a flower, not a human being.
That thought made me a bit nervous, honestly.
But what a relief. If I were a perfect flower, I’d technically be both male and female.

Former saint or ex–high school girl, I am not prepared to live as a hermaphrodite.
No, thank you. Hard pass. Close call there.

So apparently, while I should be an angiosperm (a plant that produces flowers and hides its seeds inside an enclosed space), I somehow have the single-sex flower trait usually found in gymnosperms.
Though, If I remember right, gourds, cucumbers, and watermelons are angiosperms too, yet they also have distinct male and female flowers.

Come to think of it, since I don’t have any stamens, that means my upper body must be the pistil, right?

In a flower, this human-looking body is standing in the center where the pistil usually is.

If that’s the case, then my lower abdomen or hips, or around the base of the pistil for normal flowers, should be where the ovary is.
And if there’s an ovary, then inside it there should be ovules, which are the seeds.
I still remember learning that in school. Nostalgic, huh?

In human terms, the ovary is like the uterus, and the ovule would be the egg.
I try touching my stomach.
Yeah,  it’s about the same place where a human’s womb would be.
Weirdly fascinating, actually.

If I ever get pollinated, would I start growing a fruit? Like a cucumber or a watermelon?

I can’t help but imagine my “belly” swelling as the ovary expands.
Would it look like I was pregnant?
Except, being a plant, my whole upper body would just keep getting absorbed into the growing fruit until I disappeared completely.

Yeah, no thanks.
That sounds terrifying.
I wouldn’t even be me anymore.

Ok, I’ll make sure pollination never happens.

Also, the fact that I am literally the pistil is a lot to take in.
I think I’ll just try not to think too hard about that.

***

As I sank deeper into that gloomy thought, I suddenly heard a faint buzz from far away.

Even without looking, I knew.
A bee was approaching.

Oh no. A bee.
I’ve never liked bugs.
They sting and hurt. Though, I guess now that I’m not human, a bee sting probably wouldn’t do much.
Still, as a flower, I can’t exactly avoid them either, can I?

It’s obvious when you think about it.
I’m a flower.
Of course bees would come for my nectar, it’s only natural.

Honestly, it’s strange no insects have shown up until now.
Maybe I was giving off some kind of insect-repelling pheromone or something, keeping the smaller ones away.

Wait.
Hold on a second.

I heard a deep, heavy noise, almost like that a helicopter would make, come from nearby.

And then, it appeared.

A bee-type monster.
If I remember right, they’re called Zornbiene—giant bees the size of a human.

When it comes to Honeybees, they are famous for pollinating flowers.
When worker bees collect nectar or pollen, some pollen sticks to their bodies.
Then, when they visit another flower, that pollen from the stamen of the previous flower rubs off onto the new flower’s pistil.
That’s how even female-only flowers can pollinate with a bee’s help, producing fruit.
It’s called cross-pollination, and farmers actually rely on bees for this when growing fruit.

To put it simply, when bees move between flowers, they forcefully pollinate them.

That’s why bees are also known as pollinators.

…Wait.
Wait, wait, wait.
Timeout! Referee whistle!

Eeeeiiiii!!

Hey, you there! Stop moving!
Please! Don’t come any closer! I’m begging you!

Bee-san, you’re here for my nectar, right?

You’re planning to touch me, aren’t you?

But if you touch me, the pollen stuck to your body from some other flower…
It’s going to get on me.

Wouldn’t that mean I’ll get pollinated?

After all, I’m a female flower.
No, worse, I am the pistil itself.

No no no no no!

You definitely have some other flower’s pollen on you!
My instincts as a female flower are screaming it!

Ah—
He’s coming this way!
Flying straight toward me!
And yep, I can see the pollen on his body!

This is bad.
REALLY BAD!
If this keeps up, I’m going to be pollinated!!!!

***

Author’s Note:
Angiosperms — plants whose ovules are enclosed within an ovary (i.e. flowering plants).
Gymnosperms — plants with exposed ovules (like conifers).

Judging from her knowledge and this world’s logic, our Alraune protagonist seems to be an angiosperm—
Her ovules are hidden safely inside her ovary.

Next time: Pollination Crisis!