Dying at sixteen wasn’t part of the plan.

  If I’m being completely honest, I can barely remember what led up to my death. My memories are scattered but I get faint glimpses of my childhood. Being abandoned by my parents. Being taken in by that old man.

  Being named. Trained. Meeting people.

  In the end, we were a family, even if we never said it out loud. We ate together, fought together, made money together, and lived under the same roof.

  I want to cry. I want to feel something. But for some reason, it’s just so difficult. Maybe it’s because of what happened, because of how it all ended. Not only did it cost me my life, but they’ll probably find the others and kill them too.

  I don’t want to think like this. No matter how much I try to push those thoughts away, they just keep flowing right back in.

  Maybe if I wasn’t so cold and careless, things would’ve been different...

  Will I just be swallowed by the darkness forever?

  "It’s okay, ma’am. You did just fine. The young master is very healthy."

  A voice. Someone is talking.

  That’s impossible.

  I’m dead. I’m sure of it. He crushed my skull with his foot I felt it.

  Unless... was I found? Taken to a hospital?

  No, that doesn’t make sense. He was ordered to bring my body back. There’s no way.

  "What are you going to name the young master? I know you’re quite tired, ma’am, but it has to be decided for him to be officially recognized as a citizen of Velmira."

  Another voice.

  I’m hearing people. Humans. I’m sure of it. Japanese? Maybe American? The implant we were given at birth allowed us to understand every language, so it’s hard to tell.

  "Could you give him to me?"

  "O-Of course, ma’am!"

  Suddenly, the darkness shifts. Light seeps in, pushing back the void.

  Like a battle between darkness and light and this time, light is winning.

  My eyes flutter open for what feels like the first time in a millennium.

  The moment I do, I’m forced to shut them again. A sharp, burning sensation stings my vision. It’s overwhelming, like rubbing my eyes after chopping onions.

  I blink. Again and again. Slowly, the pain dulls, and my vision begins to adjust.

  This… this isn’t a hospital.

  White walls, lined with gold. Several women in maid uniforms stand nearby.

  My gaze drifts to my right. Two young children, no older than three or four, sit on ornate chairs with red cushions and golden frames.

  What the hell is going on?

  Then I realize someone is holding me.

  I glance up.

  A woman sits above me, cradling me gently. She’s beautiful, with long, flowing red hair and piercing red eyes, her soft white skin only enhanced her features. She looks exhausted yet young maybe in her mid-twenties.

  And then she smiles.

  "I’ll name him Hajime… your name is Hajime Takeda, my son."

  Son?

  My body moves on its own, a tiny hand reaching toward her. But as I do, something feels... off.

  I stare at my hands. Small. Frail.

  I blink. Squint. But no matter how I look at them, they’re still tiny.

  Wait.

  Her words replay in my mind.

  "Your name is Hajime Takeda, my son."

  She called me her son.

  That’s impossible.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  I’ve never met my mother, but I know for a fact this woman isn’t her.

  I touch my face. My fingers press into soft, chubby cheeks. My nose is small, squishy.

  I could only think of one explanation.

  I’ve been reborn.

  It’s been a month since I was… reborn.

  At first, I refused to believe it. But there’s too much undeniable proof staring me in the face.

  I don’t know how to feel about it yet. But I guess it doesn’t matter because this is my life now.

  And honestly? The more I think about it, the more excited I get.

  I still have all my memories from my past life. Which means I have the chance to control my destiny from an early age. I can be the top of my class. I can make money.

  I could even steal ideas from my old world and become filthy rich.

  Like, if I was born in the past I could start businesses before they were even invented. The possibilities are endless.

  But there’s one thing that bothers me about being a baby.

  I can’t move.

  Obviously, my legs aren’t strong enough to support my body yet, but it’s still frustrating.

  Still… the moment I can walk, my journey begins.

  I don’t know what happened to them after I died. I probably caused them a lot of trouble. But dwelling on the past won’t help me now.

  This time, I’ll make my life worth it.

  I swear.

  I am six months old. Time is flying by quickly, even though I haven’t fully adapted to this reincarnated life.

  Since coming into this world emphasis on “this world” I’ve realized that I’m not in my original one. Sadly, that means most of the businesses I thought about stealing won’t work here. The technology is way outdated.

  Still, I’ve learned a few important things.

  I have a father or so I’ve heard. Late at night, my mother sometimes talks about him. Not in a bad way or anything, but before I could learn much, one of the maids would always pick me up and put me in the baby playpen like I was some delicate artifact.

  I have two older brothers.

  Noboru, or Nobo, is three years old. I don’t know his exact birth date mainly because I still haven’t figured out the damn calendar system here.

  He stands at 105 cm (3’5"), which seems insanely tall for his age. Unlike our mother, he has white hair and grayish black eyes. He doesn’t look much like her at all. Is he adopted?

  Yasuo is two years old, a year younger than Nobo. He stands at 95 cm (3’1"). He resembles our mother much more than Nobo does at least he inherited her red eyes, though his hair is white like our brother’s. It makes me wonder… What does our father look like?

  And then there’s me, Hajime Takeda. At six months old, I stand at around 76 cm (30 inches). I don’t know if that’s tall for my age, but I’m sure I’ll end up tall when I grow up.

  My hair started growing in two months ago, and like my brothers, it’s white. But the most unique thing about me by far? My mismatched eyes and an unusual birthmark on the right side of my neck.

  I noticed them the first time I saw a mirror. My right eye is grayish black like Nobo’s, while my left is red like our mother’s. My facial features somewhat resemble hers, but I have a feeling I take after my father more.

  Something I’m still getting used to is the sheer size of this place. The mansion we live in is massive.

  I’ve peeked out the windows before our front yard alone is enormous. A giant fountain sits in the center, and a stone path leads from the entrance to a tall metal gate surrounding the estate. The gate has small gaps, just enough for me to glimpse the outside world. I’ve seen horses pulling carriages pass by.

  This only confirms my theory I’m in some kind of outdated world.

  Honestly, that doesn’t bother me much. I never cared much for TV or video games in my past life. Not that I never played them, but they weren’t a big part of my life.

  The more I think, the more my baby mind takes over. My eyelids get heavy, and before I can resist yawn I’m out.

  I woke up feeling refreshed, ready for another day. But today… I had a plan.

  A terrible plan.

  I wanted to climb to a high place and purposely fall.

  Not because I wanted to hurt myself I knew whatever damage I took would be temporary. No, I just wanted to see how far the maids would go to protect me.

  Later That Day I snuck into the kitchen and was immediately told to leave. The maid was relentless, but I was more stubborn. Each time I was carried out, I made my way right back in.

  By the fifth time, I had a secret weapon: Yasuo.

  I planned to use him as a step stool to reach a chair, climb onto the table, and then… well, fall.

  We worked together, pulling out a chair without the maid noticing. Yasuo stood in front of it while I climbed onto him, then hoisted myself onto the chair. That alone took way more effort than I wanted.

  There was no turning back now, I thought back to how I got Yasuo to help me

  –

  “Y-Yasuo… h-help me,” I struggled to say.

  –

  With my remaining strength, I crawled onto the table and collapsed onto my back, catching my breath.

  Now that I think about it… is talking at six months crazy? Probably. I should avoid speaking in front of adults they’d either think I’m some genius baby or a freak. And, my squeaky voice is embarrassing.

  I sat up, crawling to the edge of the table. It was huge, big enough to fit at least ten people. Looking down, it didn’t seem that high… until I actually started falling.

  “Mama! Mama!” I called out, making sure the maid saw me.

  Then, as soon as she turned her head I let go.

  The second I fell, regret hit me like a brick.

  The ground rushed toward me, and suddenly, what seemed like a small height felt like I had jumped out of a plane without a parachute.

  But then it happened.

  The maid dived.

  She threw herself to the ground hard, arms outstretched. Even I could hear the impact.

  I landed safely on her back, completely unharmed.

  She, on the other hand…

  As she turned over and sat up, blood trickled from her nose. Yet, despite the obvious pain, she immediately scooped me up, hugging me tightly.

  “Young master, you’re safe! I’m so glad!”

  For the first time, I actually looked at her, I mean I always knew her name, Natsumi it was.

  She was beautiful. Long, silky black hair with hints of purple, dark eyes, and a perfectly shaped face. Her voice, even now, was soft and soothing.

  Then … drip.

  A drop of blood landed on my face.

  Even then, her expression remained composed.

  “I’m so sorry, young master! I’ll wipe my nose and then prepare you a bath!”

  And she meant it.

  She cleaned herself up, then took me to the bath, which was basically a bathhouse.

  Now, I know I’m a baby, which is why she felt probably felt comfortable with undressing but for some reason, when she undressed, I instinctively looked away. Not that I couldn’t look, but… I just didn’t want to.

  After my bath, she put me back in the baby pen.

  I felt… bad. I hadn’t expected her to go that far.

  I thought about ways to make it up to her, but before I could settle on anything, my mother entered the room.

  Behind her, a tall man followed.

  He had white hair, grayish black eyes, a sharp jawline, and a perfectly symmetrical face.

  He looked down at me, a rare softness in his expression.

  “You’re growing up so fast, my son.”