I was getting better at pretending.
Smiling when I was supposed to. Crying just enough to seem normal. Gurgling sounds and reaching for things I didn't actually need. At first, it had felt awkward, trapped in this tiny, squishy body that responded with more instinct than intent. But now, I was starting to get the hang of it.
I could lift my head. Focus my eyes. Grip things with my fingers. My mind was still mine, shaped by two lives' worth of thought and grief, but my body was an infant's, and it demanded patience.
Luckily, patience was something I had learned the hard way.
The Reizei household was quiet, peaceful, soaked in the kind of warmth I'd never known in my old life. Every day was gentle. Aria and Jonathan cared for me with tireless love, never once showing signs of irritation or fatigue. And even though I had known them for only a few short months, I had memorized everything about them.
Aria had the softest voice. She sang constantly, not always for me, but often. Sometimes she hummed while brushing her hair near the window, silver strands catching the morning light. Sometimes she sat in the rocking chair with me in her arms, telling me old legends I could barely understand. And i mean barely.
"The Moonlit Vale," she would whisper, tracing the crescent tattoo under her eye. "Where spirits of light watch over those who wander. That's where your name comes from, you know. Noah, the wanderer who returns."
I liked that.
Jonathan wasn't home as often. He was always away on trips of some sort, i wouldn't know seeing as Aria never talked about it. All i knew was he was in charge of a certain group, captain, I gathered, and his duties pulled him away for days, weeks even. But when he returned, he always made time for me. He'd lift me with his strong arms, toss me into the air just high enough to make my baby-heart lurch, then catch me with a grin and a kiss to the forehead.
"He's watching everything," he told Aria one night, when they thought I was asleep. "He looks at me like he understands more than he should."
Aria chuckled. "He's just clever. Like his father."
Jonathan huffed. "He doesn't cry much. Only when something's wrong. And when he does, it's sharp. Not like the other babies. It's like he wants to tell us something."
Aria kissed my cheek. "Maybe he does."
They weren't wrong. I was watching. Always.
Everything here fascinated me. The light that moved across the walls at different hours. The strange birds that sang outside. The glowing crystals in the corners of the ceiling that dimmed when night fell. I learned the rhythm of days, the meaning of doors opening and closing. I watched Aria prepare food with herbs that shimmered when ground, glowing faintly before dissolving into warmth.
Magic wasn't just real here. It was normal, casual even.
Mana drifted through the air like mist, visible only when I squinted with just the right focus. I could feel it cling to Aria, soft and cool, like moonlight. Jonathan's was heavier, denser like tempered steel waiting to be drawn.
It was intimidating and comforting.
And then there was mine.
I could sense it now, humming gently inside my chest. A tiny ember. No more than a spark. But it pulsed with life. Old life. Something deeper than this new form. As if the world had planted a seed in me and was waiting to see if I would grow.
I would. I had to, no matter what.
But for now, I practiced being a child.
I smiled when Aria made silly faces. I reached for her hair when she leaned close. I laughed, a sound I hadn't made in years, not truly, when she tickled my feet or danced me around the room.
She loved me.
Not because she had to. Not because I earned it. But simply because I was hers.
That truth broke something in me, then healed it slowly.
One afternoon, she carried me out to the courtyard. The sky above was a soft lavender, the sun hidden behind a veil of clouds. Flowering trees lined the edges of the stone path, petals drifting gently in the breeze.
She sat on a bench and cradled me in her arms, humming something ancient.
I looked up at her and reached out, brushing my tiny hand against her moon tattoo.
She smiled. "Curious little thing, aren't you?"
I gurgled.
She chuckled. "Oh, you're going to be trouble, I can feel it. Just like your father."
Jonathan appeared moments later, slipping into the courtyard with soft steps. He carried a carved wooden wolf in one hand.
"A gift for the young lord," he said with a bow.
I squealed and reached for it. My fingers were clumsy, but I managed to hold it.
"See?" Jonathan said, sitting beside Aria. "He knows a good wolf when he sees one."
Aria leaned into him. "He's going to love the forest when he's older. Just like you."
Jonathan brushed a hand through my hair. "The world's big, little one. And it can be hard. But it's beautiful too. I hope you get to see all of it."
So did I.
That night, Aria laid me in my crib and whispered blessings in a tongue older than time.
I didn't understand the words.
But I understood the feeling.
Safe.
Held.
Loved.
I drifted to sleep with the wooden wolf beside me, the smell of Aria's hair still lingering in my nose, and the soft thrum of magic cradling me like a lullaby.
For the first time in both my lives, I dreamed of tomorrow and I smiled.
End of Chapter.