Darkness — something humanity has always feared, no matter the time or place; whether it's a child afraid of the unknown, or an old man who knows that darkness means the end.
But now, darkness is the only thing I can see—though technically, I can't see because of the darkness.
I wish I could feel afraid; after all, fear of it is ingrained in humanity. But I can't. It's as if my mind simply can't process what's happening.
Still, I can feel my body… though it's unlike anything I'm used to. Almost like a faint déjà vu—perhaps I've felt this before at some point in my life, but I can't remember when.
Have I transcended to the point of becoming one with the universe?
Truth is, I have no idea. My mind is in chaos, and it's almost terrifying how I can think about such things instead of focusing on what's around me.
I guess it's just part of me now…
Part of me?
Something's missing, but I'm not sure what.
I've tried to think about it—believe me, I've tried—but I just can't remember.
I have no idea where I am, what I'm doing here… or who I even am.
I suppose I'll find out sooner or later, because even that thought in my head feels like déjà vu…
A thought in my head?
What should I do?
Or rather… can I do anything?
Resisting the unknown never ends well. And yet, my sight catches a strange reddish light, as if something is about to witness the existence—or birth—of something new.
Suddenly, the light floods my vision, blinding me for a few seconds until my eyes adjust to its intensity.
I don't know how long it's been since I left the darkness, but the first thing I see is someone holding me.
Am I… so light they can hold me like this?
I focus on the strange figure. Dressed in a white coat, they might be a doctor—like the ones you see in hospitals… but I don't remember wanting to go to one.
My head still feels clouded; I can't quite grasp what's going on. Random thoughts cross my mind, yet they contradict what I see.
In front of the doctor stands a couple—a woman lying on a bed, and a man by her side.
Are they… celebrating? From their expressions, they both seem happy to see me, though I don't know why.
The doctor holds me as if I were the lightest thing in the world, then hands me to the woman, who cradles me in her arms and looks at me with a certain joy.
I can hear them, but I can't understand them—are they speaking another language?
I don't get it…
What am I doing here? Who are they? And… who am I?
In that moment, fleeting memories flash through my mind, as if something is being revealed to me.
…
Like any other day, I'm walking toward my university. After all, what else would a 23-year-old student nearing graduation do? Work, study, hang out with friends, drink while complaining that your boss is an ass… the usual stuff.
But something catches my attention—my phone ringing for the fourth time. The caller ID shows my mother's name.
Didn't I make myself clear before I left?
Some people just can't take no for an answer… and I'm one of them.
So, if I don't want my phone to keep ringing, I might as well answer.
"What do you want?" I say, with a hint of irritation in my voice.
"Desmont, this is the fourth time I've called, and you're only answering now?!"
Like me, her voice is full of annoyance.
"Well, do you need something? I'm busy right now."
I really don't want to talk to her at the moment.
As I expected, she started lecturing me right after that. It all stems from an argument we had earlier this morning that put her in a bad mood. And to make things worse, I decided to leave while she was still scolding me. So, her anger is understandable… not that I care much.
This is something that happens often. Family issues have been around for as long as I can remember—they're unavoidable.
I keep responding to her while stopping at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a kid beside me playing noisily with his ball—more than I'd like.
"I told you already, I had things to do, that's why I left—why the hell can't you understand that?!"
I didn't even realize I'd said that aloud, but I didn't think twice about it either.
As I'm speaking, I see the kid's ball slip from his hands and bounce into the street. And, as any kid would, he runs after it.
The sensible thing would've been to wait for the light to change before going after it, but the boy apparently thought it was wiser to grab it right away.
Traffic signals exist for a reason—because as the boy tries to retrieve his ball, I spot a vehicle speeding toward him.
A very predictable outcome, if I may say so.
Everyone has their own problems, and I've always believed that things happen for a reason. That's why anything that happens isn't my concern—everyone is responsible for their own actions.
After all, it was the recklessness of that child's parents that would lead to an accident.
I turned my attention away from the kid and focused on my mother's words.
"You know, Desmont, sometimes I regret giving birth to you."
Those words, spoken in a moment of anger, cut deep.
"Well, that makes two of us! It's not like I asked you to bring me into this damn world!"
Part of me was fed up with everything—every day was an argument, problems never stopped, and work was hell.
When I turned my attention back to the road, I saw, right at that moment, that the driver—trying to avoid hitting the child—decided the best option was to turn right.
It would have been a good decision, avoiding an accident… except for the fact that I was on the right.
I had no time to react or step aside. I just stood there, frozen, unable to do anything.
The last thing I saw was the vehicle coming straight at me, and the last words I heard were from my mother.
"I hate you!"
…
Oh, I see…
I guess I died in that accident, huh? So this would be like a rebirth or something…
My mind processed everything I remembered alongside what I now saw, as if trying to take control of the entire emotional process.
This should cheer me up—after all, I wasn't satisfied with my previous life.
But for some reason, I felt a deep, crushing pain in my chest. Not physical pain—more like something inside me hurt…
Friends… family… I had plenty of them. It wasn't always good, but there were moments of fun, times we could laugh and talk freely.
I didn't want to admit it—too much had happened—but deep down, I knew I had a mother who cared for me. And even if our relationship wasn't the best, I still valued her for that.
Right now, my head isn't clouded with anger enough to ignore the weight of my actions and words…
Reincarnating… truth be told, I should've gone to hell.
Just thinking about it makes my emotions contradict themselves—I don't even know what I should do…
Even so, the woman holding me in her arms moves with warmth, as if I'm the most precious thing in her life.
Why? Why would she…?
I don't understand… something warm is falling slowly down my cheeks, and before I can do anything, I start crying.
It's something all newborns do, a natural part of the body—something I can't control, something driven purely by instinct, something that…
I wanted to make up so many excuses for myself, but it was impossible. Being just a baby, I… I cried without stopping. I wanted to release all the emotions I had inside.
I'm a baby, damn it. I… I just want to…
…die.
But the moment the woman began to gently stroke my head, it was so soothing. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling. I felt that strange warmth again, comforting me.
Before I knew it, my mind and body relaxed, and I felt my consciousness slowly fade away.
…
Had it really been six years since I was reborn—or born? Well, details.
As I grew, I learned the language of this place and realized I hadn't been born in my previous country, but in Japan. The time period was different too—it seemed I had gone back several years before the date of my accident. Either that, or I had been born into an entirely separate world. I guess alternate-world theories had some merit… or maybe I'd just lost it.
Anyway, if someone ever told me there was life after death, my answer would have been:
"If it's not a medieval world with magic, I'm not interested."
After all, the dream is that when you die, you wake up in another world with magic—you know, become strong, get a harem, defeat the demon king, ascend to godhood. The usual wish-fulfillment. At least, that's what any anime or manga fan would expect… though I had stopped reading them around the time I entered university.
But I supposed you didn't get to choose.
After living a few years with my new family, things happened—things I'd rather forget. The past was the past, and there was no point in dwelling on it.
Maybe I should have focused more on enjoying this new life. It was something I reconsidered when I turned five.
You could call it cheating—having years of experience and knowledge. It had its perks. I had no trouble learning to speak and write. My parents were amazed at how quickly I developed, thinking their son was a prodigy.
Though in reality, I was only "cheating" thanks to a more experienced mind.
My parents decided my new name would be Raiden—Tsurumi Raiden. Strangely, the surname felt familiar, though I couldn't remember where I had heard it before. After all, I had seen plenty of anime and read countless light novels. Maybe I had come across it at some point, so I decided not to dwell on it. My mind wasn't exactly a vault for everything I had read years ago.
While thinking about this, I kept playing with my toys. One of the things I enjoyed about this life was my huge collection of them—lucky for me, my family was a bit wealthier than average. At least, that's what I gathered when I asked my parents about it.
For the moment, I was just in the living room doing the usual things a kid my age would do—using a dinosaur to crush an army of toy soldiers, proving that no matter how old you were, dinosaurs were cool.
Still, the sounds my mother made drew my attention to her. I forgot to mention—she was pregnant, and it looked like I was going to have a little sister. In my past life, I never had younger siblings, so this would be a whole new experience. Technically, a few years from now, I guessed she'd be calling me "onii-chan."
With the due date approaching, my father took my mother to the hospital, leaving me in my grandmother's care.
"Raiden, when we get back, you'll meet your new little sister," my father said with an expectant smile.
I nodded—honestly, I couldn't think of anything a child my age could say without it sounding oddly out of place.
Once my parents left, I went back to my dinosaur, who was devouring the soldiers—until humanity's last hope, a robot, arrived to the rescue, triggering one final battle.
By the end of the afternoon, my grandmother was watching TV in the living room while I headed to my bedroom. The dinosaur emerged victorious, humanity was wiped out, and I ran out of ideas… maybe I should ask for more toys.
Once in my room, I climbed onto my bed and lay down. Since this was a parallel world and I was in Japan, I decided to look into a few questions I had about possible similarities. Being a pretty smart kid, my parents gave me a tablet when I asked for one—technology was always welcome, so using the internet wasn't a problem.
I started reading some manga and browsing online forums where people posted novels. There wasn't much to do when you were an adult who had been reborn—you got bored easily.
The content I found was to my liking. Some novels reminded me of ones I had read years ago, though honestly, I could only vaguely recall certain characters or plots. That whole "reborn with perfect memory" thing? Please—what are you, some kind of super-genius?
From the scraps I did remember—mostly medieval fantasy or futuristic stories—I searched online but couldn't find them. There were novels I wished I could reread or finally finish, now that I had so much time, but it seemed I wouldn't get the chance.
I'd be lying if I said it never crossed my mind that, years down the line, I could write out the little I remembered from those novels in my past life—and this time, under my own name.
It sounded like stealing someone's work, but technically, it wasn't. After all, those stories didn't exist here yet. So, I figured it would be fine.
Of course, that would be a project for the future. I hadn't planned on doing it anytime soon, since it would require me to focus on writing—and honestly, that sounded tedious. Not to mention it would probably eat up a lot of time, and there would be days when I wouldn't feel like writing at all. If anything, I'd be lucky to churn out a single chapter a month.
"Raiden, dinner's ready." My grandmother's voice reached my room. I guess time really did fly when I was focused on something.
I climbed out of bed and survived the journey—being this small was kind of annoying.
Dinner went as usual, with my grandmother asking me the typical questions: how school was going, whether I had any friends. I gave the typical answers you'd expect from a small child.
Speaking of elementary school, I got by just fine—except that the other kids were shocked by my eye color. After all, a boy with black hair and red eyes wasn't something you saw every day. Eye color aside, I thought my life was fairly normal.
Maybe I'd turn out extremely handsome in the future. My mom was quite beautiful, and my dad… well, as long as he stayed in good health, that was what mattered.
Tomorrow was Saturday, which meant no school, so I could stay up late watching TV. The funny part was that "late" for me now meant 10 p.m.—the body of a child simply couldn't go beyond that. Sometimes I missed my old body, the one that could go days without sleep.
I'd always heard that sleeping shortened your life—apparently, I shortened mine so much that I died at twenty-three. Hahaha…
And just as I expected, by 10 p.m. my body started to feel heavy—the downside of being a kid.
The best thing I could do was head to sleep and hope that tomorrow my parents would be home with my new little sister…