The night was as cold as it had always been, and he was just as restless as he always was. The chilly winds slipped through his thin jacket, brushing against his skin, yet he didn't seem to feel the cold.
He stood at the edge of the rooftop, staring down in silence.
Below, the city buzzed with life—glimmering lights, restless noise, cars rushing by. Everything was just as it should be. The world kept moving forward… even without him.
He wanted to move forward too, but he couldn't.
It had been three years since his mother's death, but time had done nothing to dull the ache in his heart. Every day was just another reminder that she was gone. Therapy, books, distractions—none of it worked. Even pretending to move on felt like a lie. Nothing could fill the gaping hole she had left behind.
He squeezed his eyes shut, memories flashing like cruel Spectres. His mother's tired smile as she came home late from work. The way she hid her pain, always saying she was fine. The way he, a foolish, selfish son, had never truly seen her suffering until it was too late.
And what had he been doing? Living a lavish life, spending her hard-earned money on things like video games, expensive clothes and what not, never stopping to think for a moment that while he was spending thousands, his mother was struggling to earn hundred.
A few years back, he had fallen ill. His mother took him to the best hospital they could find, which cost them over 200 thousand but later that year when she herself fell sick, she went to a trustee hospital to get cheap treatment and that was how she always did things. Giving everything to her children and what did he do…. nothing.
He had never though that this would cost him so much…. She had cancer, but the cheap treatment failed to diagnose it in time.…. he was heartbroken but when they gave news to her that she wouldn't live long, her first reaction was "only if I could have 2 more years, I would have settled you down well enough for rest of your life."
She was still thinking about him, not about the fact that she would soon die. He felt like someone had stabbed his heart a thousand times and then put a heavy boulder on it. It weighed down on him, crushing him bit by bit, with every day bringing another reminder of her fading strength.
Even as she was dying, she thought of him first. She refused treatment, saying it was a waste of money. Every day, she made sure the others would be fine without her. She prepared for death as if it were just another responsibility. And what had he done? Nothing. He had let her carry the burden alone.
He saw her still trying to do everything she can, so that he can have a good life…until one day when she was truly gone…forever. He felt something which he couldn't understand.
He wanted to cry, but his body betrayed him—dry eyes, clenched fists, nothing but a hollow ache. He tried to scream, but his voice felt trapped in his throat, suffocating him. He just stood there, staring at her lifeless body. A thousand words caught in his throat, a thousand regrets screaming inside him. But she wasn't there to hear any of it.
He clutched the photo, his fingers trembling. A pained smile flickered across his face. How had he not seen it sooner? He had claimed to love her more than anything, but did he truly?
The late nights, the exhaustion in her voice, the quiet smiles masking her pain—he had taken it all for granted.
Now, his life was empty. Waking up had no meaning. The house that once felt like home was nothing but walls and silence.
"If there's a way… any way to bring her back… give me a chance," he whispered into the night. "If not, then I don't want to continue."
The wind howled around him. He held the photo to his chest, his heartbeat steady, his decision final. One last breath. One last hope.
Then, he let go.
🔱 — ✵ — 🔱
For a fleeting moment there was only silence, the heaviness was gone.
The wind was howling as the lights below grew brighter. The ground was fast approaching, and he closed his eyes.
'What was I thinking? Another chance…. '
He sighed as time stretched impossibly long. His thoughts were racing. Was this how it would end? Would he finally see her again?
And then everything went dark. He felt weightless, adrift in an abyss with no sound, no sight, no time. He was not dead, yet he was not alive. A deep, unshakable cold seeped into his being, wrapping around him like chains.
Then something changed. A warmth, gentle yet powerful, seeped into his bones, chasing away the numbing cold. It pulsed around him, wrapping him in an invisible cocoon, and suddenly—he was moving. Pulled, stretched, broken down, and reshaped.
He couldn't breathe. His body felt too small, too fragile. A strange, suffocating pressure bore down on him, and then—
Light.
Aashish gasped, choking on air as his lungs filled for the first time. His body convulsed, unfamiliar sensations flooding him. He was warm, wrapped in soft fabric. The sound of a woman's voice, faint yet soothing, reached his ears.
"Look at him," the voice whispered, filled with warmth. "He's strong."
His vision was blurry, but he could make out a figure holding him—no, cradling him. A woman with delicate features, her eyes filled with tenderness. She was not his mother, but the gentle way she held him stirred something deep inside.
Panic seized him. He was small. Too small. His limbs were weak, his movements sluggish.
A baby.
His breath hitched. His limbs felt impossibly small, frail. The air was too warm, too thick. His heart pounded wildly as realization set in—he was an infant. Reborn.
Memories surged like a tidal wave—his mother, his despair, the fall. And now this. He had been reborn.
Aashish wanted to scream, to deny this reality, but all that came out was a helpless cry. The woman holding him only smiled, brushing a gentle hand over his forehead.
"You'll be great one day, little one."
But He didn't care. He didn't want a new life. He wanted his mother.
He had wanted to escape his guilt, not be thrown into a new life where the pain would begin all over again. How cruel was this? Was this his punishment for everything he had done in his past life? Why was there no afterlife where he could see her again? Was there no afterlife? Even if there wasn't, and he had to be reborn, why did he still have his memories?
The thought of a full life ahead with all the burden he was caring made him shiver to the bone. How would he cope with this, how would he bear all this. No, No, He can't. He was panicking, sweating profusely.
The woman cradling him was startled by his reaction. Just as she hesitated, footsteps echoed from the hallway. She turned towards the gate to find a man entering the room with a big smile on his face.
"How is he?" the main asked with joy which was evident in his tone.
"He is healthy and fine but very restless." She replied while handing over the child to the man.
"Restless? "He took the child in his arms and kissed him on his forehead. "Everything is fine. Father is here."
He met their affectionate gazes, but instead of comfort, he felt suffocated.
No. This wasn't real. He was supposed to be dead, not… this. His mind scrambled for answers—coma? Hallucination? Punishment? But the weight of tiny limbs and the warmth of the woman's arms told him the truth. He had been reborn. And the worst part? He still remembered everything.
He tried to comfort himself, but the feeling overwhelmed him and his eyelids started to grow heavy.
As his condition worsened, the woman sobbed while the man panicked. He shouted for someone and suddenly there was 3-4 more people in the room. One of them was examining him. After some time, he sighed and turned to face the man and women.
"The baby seems fine to me. I can't find anything wrong with him." He replied with a puzzled tone.
As soon as the words left his mouth, the woman snapped almost roaring "Nothing wrong with him? Then why is he unconscious." Then she turned to face her husband "Please find someone who can actually do something to help our son. If anything happens to him, I …." but before she could complete, the man hugged her tightly, looking towards the healer he asked "then why is he unconscious."
"I am not sure. But it feels like the child himself doesn't want to live."
Everyone in the room was silent. No one knew what to say. The woman was crying, and the man was looking at the baby." Doesn't want to live? Why? No, you are my sone. You can't die. I wouldn't let you die."
The baby was hearing all this, slowly descending into deep slumber, again, hoping to sleep for eternity when he heard something.
"Even if Death itself comes for you, I will fight it. And if I fail… I will find the immortals and drag you back myself. I wouldn't allow you to leave us like this."
'Bring me back after Death.' This jolted him awake. His eyes wide open, looking at the man standing in front of him. The guilt in his heart slowly replaced by determination.
If this world had power beyond Earth's, then he would find a way to use it. No matter what it took—he would bring her back.