Being a baby is humiliating.
I mean, sure, everything feels warm, soft, and strangely safe. But when your body refuses to listen, when your only form of communication is crying and burping… let's just say it's not exactly the dignified second chance at life I imagined.
"Zaa~ck, smile for me! Smile!"
The second sister—Clara—waved her hands in front of my face like she was trying to summon a spirit. Her bright hair bounced as she leaned in close, pouting when I didn't respond.
Internally, I wanted to say: Lady, I'm still processing the fact that I have to wear diapers.
Instead, I drooled.
Her eyes sparkled. "He smiled! He totally smiled at me! See, see!"
"I don't think drooling counts as smiling."
That came from the eldest—Elena—who sat nearby with a book in hand. Glasses perched on her nose, her posture perfect, her voice calm and annoyingly smug.
Clara puffed her cheeks. "Well, he likes me better anyway!"
"Based on what evidence?" Elena didn't even look up.
"I can feel it!"
I wanted to roll my eyes. If I could.
Meanwhile, the youngest—Mina—hovered by the crib, her little hands clutching the edge. She didn't say much, just peeked at me with wide eyes like I was some sort of rare animal in a cage.
Honestly, she was my favorite. Quiet, observant, not in my face every five seconds.
Then, of course, the parents had to step in.
"Girls, don't crowd your brother," my new father chuckled, scooping me into his arms. He held me high, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "Look at him! Already so strong."
Strong? I was flailing like a fish out of water.
"Careful, dear," my mother said, though her voice was warm. She reached up, adjusting my blanket. "He's only a few months old."
A few months. That's all it had been. Months since my death, since the truck, since the smile of the sister I never met in my old world.
And yet, every day here had been… oddly healing.
Yes, I had to endure being treated like a doll. Yes, I had to put up with Clara's constant attempts at making me "perform." Yes, Elena sometimes looked at me like she was already planning my study schedule for the next ten years.
But when my mother held me, humming softly, or when Mina cautiously reached out to touch my hand…
I felt something I hadn't realized I was missing.
Family.
Real, complete family.
Of course, that didn't mean I let them off easy.
Like the time Clara tried to shove a spoonful of mashed peas into my mouth.
"Here comes the dragon! Rawrrr—open wide, Zack!"
Internally: No. Absolutely not.
Externally: pfffhhhbbt!
The peas exploded everywhere—on her dress, on the table, in her hair. She froze, eyes wide.
Elena finally looked up from her book. "…Impressive aim."
"HE DID THAT ON PURPOSE!" Clara wailed, stomping her feet.
I laughed. In my head, of course. Out loud, it was just a baby's giggle—but hey, close enough.
Even my father burst into laughter. "That's my boy!"
---
It was later that evening when something strange happened.
Elena had placed my bottle on the table after feeding me, then returned to her book. Clara, still grumpy about the "pea incident," marched up to it with puffed cheeks.
"Hmph! If you like the bottle so much, maybe I'll just take it away!"
She reached out with her tiny hand—except instead of grabbing it, she flicked her fingers.
The bottle floated.
Only for a second, wobbling in the air before clattering back onto the table.
"Ehh?! Did you see that?!" Clara shouted, eyes wide.
"I told you not to play with raw energy like that," Elena sighed, snapping her book shut. "You'll scare him."
Raw energy? My newborn brain buzzed.
Magic.
That was magic.
The first time in this world I had witnessed something impossible yet undeniably real.
Clara turned, grinning at me. "Did you see that, Zack? Did you? Your amazing sister just made your bottle fly!"
Inside, my heart pounded.
This was it. This was the thread, the path forward. If I could learn it, if I could master it, maybe… just maybe… I could connect to the world I left behind.
I gurgled like a clueless baby, but deep down, my resolve hardened.
Magic… I'll make it mine.
---
And so, my first months in this new world passed like that. Tears, laughter, diapers, chaos… and now, the first spark of the mystery that would change everything.
The bottle floated, then clattered back down.
Clara cheered, "See that, Zack? Your awesome sister is amazing!"
I gurgled like a clueless baby, but inside my mind was racing.
Magic… I'll make it mine.
That's when I felt it—eyes on me.
I glanced up. Elena had lowered her book ever so slightly, her sharp gaze fixed not on Clara… but on me.
Her expression was unreadable, calm as always, yet there was something in her eyes—curiosity, maybe suspicion.
Then, without a word, she pushed her glasses back up and returned to reading.
But I knew.
She was watching.