But my serene, endless sleep didn't last for long.
'Mmm?'
A peculiar force began to pull at me from nowhere — gentle at first, then intensifying, like something was dragging me out of the shadows.
My head was pulled toward a brilliant light.
It became brighter and brighter until it consumed everything in my view.
I squinted, my eyes stinging from the sudden radiance.
When my sight finally adjusted, I saw her.
A young woman with chestnut-brown hair and striking crimson-red eyes was gazing down at me.
She was stunning — easily the most beautiful woman I had ever encountered.
But despite her allure, she appeared weary; her breathing was labored, and her expression was strained.
Who… who is she?
Next to her stood a man — with blond hair, emerald-green eyes, and a gentle smile that radiated both warmth and mischief.
He looked to be about the same age as her, like a prince straight out of a fairy tale.
Their features were too flawless, too natural — there was no way their hair or eyes were artificially colored.
Everything about them felt genuine.
The woman looked at me and offered a weak smile before speaking.
"/asdre&"
Her voice was soft, but the words were unfamiliar, strange — completely unlike any language I recognized.
The blond man responded in the same unknown language, his smile dimming slightly as if he were concerned.
I couldn't grasp a single word, but his tone was calm and reassuring.
Then, a third voice entered the conversation — low and urgent — though I couldn't see who it belonged to.
Feeling confused, I attempted to sit up, to inquire about where I was and who they were.
But my body… didn't obey.
Instead, it moved on its own — my arms twitching, my head turning, all without my command.
Panic seized me.
For the first time, I realized I wasn't in control of my own body.
And that frightened me more than death itself.
When I tried to talk — to ask Who are you people? — all that came out was,
"Ahh! Waah!"
Just a bunch of jumbled cries and nonsensical wails.
The blond guy said something in that weird language again, then bent down and carefully picked me up in his arms.
What the heck is happening?!
The last thing I remember is getting hit by a bike, falling off a bridge, and smashing into a car.
And now... I'm surrounded by two people who look like they just walked out of an anime.
Their eyes, their hair, even their skin — everything seems too perfect, too vibrant, like living art.
And that language — it's something I've never heard before.
None of this makes any sense.
Then, I noticed my hands. Tiny. Chubby. Delicate.
I froze.
'Wait… I'm a baby?!'
No way. This can't be happening.
Did I… get reborn?
*Two Months Later*
Apparently, yes — I have been reborn.
The reality finally hit me: I'm a baby. A real infant.
But the weirdest part? I still remember everything from my past life.
Why? How?
Not that I'm complaining — who wouldn't want a second chance at life?
Still, out of everyone, I never thought I'd be the one to go through something like this.
It feels like I've been dropped right into one of those anime I used to watch, where the main character dies and wakes up in a new world.
The two people I first saw — the woman with brown hair and red eyes, and the man with blond hair and emerald eyes — turned out to be my new parents.
No surprise there.
They seem older than my previous parents — maybe in their late thirties, but somehow more sophisticated, more mature.
It didn't take long to figure out I wasn't in India anymore.
In fact, this wasn't even Earth.
My new parents wore old-fashioned clothes, the kind you'd only see in period dramas or fantasy worlds.
There were no fans, no lights, no phones — not a single electrical appliance in sight.
Wherever I am, it's definitely not the modern world I once knew.
But don't confuse this world with being underdeveloped.
Far from it.
They have their own type of technology — or maybe it's magic that serves the same function.
For example, there's this odd stone set into the walls. It glows by itself, without any electricity or anyone touching it.
When night falls, these stones light up automatically, filling the room with a soft, warm light.
I've never seen my parents do anything to turn them on — they just… work.
Then there's what I like to call the "magic stove."
It's a flat stone slab with a red crystal in the middle, surrounded by detailed symbols — magic circles, I believe.
Whenever my mom puts a pan on the crystal, it heats up right away.
No gas, no fire, no electricity — just pure magic.
Honestly, everything in this house looks fancy — the furniture, the decor, even the utensils.
Each item is beautifully made, detailed, and strong.
In my old world, these things could have fetched crazy prices.
Even after two months since I was born, it still feels like I'm in a dream.
Before I died, I used to wish I could go back — to correct my mistakes, to live differently.
I never thought that wish would come true like this… not by being reborn into another world.
As I got lost in my thoughts, a soft, melodic voice brought me back.
"Oh~ my $DSEFD…"
It was my mom's voice — gentle, musical, and full of warmth.
I'd started to pick up a few words of this new language, though I still couldn't fully grasp everything she said.
But one thing was clear — she sounded happy.
She lifted me into her arms, her red eyes sparkling with joy, and showered my cheeks with kisses.
Her warmth enveloped me — pure affection, unrestrained love.
"Hehe…"
I couldn't help but giggle.
The sound came out naturally, as if my body remembered how to laugh even when my mind was still trying to wrap around this new reality.
After a little while of my mom just adoring me, she finally set my tiny self back on the bed.
'Hmm?'
Something felt… off.
Normally, she'd play with me, chat, or hum softly for at least an hour before laying me down.
But today was different — it was shorter, quieter.
I'm not sad or anything, trust me. My mind is still that of an adult — I'm not going to cry just because my mom didn't cuddle me enough. That'd be silly.
And yet… it felt a bit uncomfortable. A weird, empty feeling in my chest that I couldn't really put into words.
Did she get tired of me already? No, that can't be it.
As far as I could see, I was the only kid in this house — no brothers, no sisters, no other voices around. Just me.
I got how tiring it must be for her. Giving birth and caring for a newborn isn't a walk in the park.
I'd seen it before — my sister-in-law back in my college days, looking totally wiped out and sleep-deprived after having her first baby.
So I made a quiet decision: I'd only cry when it was absolutely necessary.
When I was hungry.
When I needed a change.
Or when I was… well, about to poop.
Yeah, it's kind of embarrassing. But what can I do?
I'm a baby now — literally.
Even with an adult's mind, I'm still stuck in this tiny, helpless body.