{..}
(..)
My eyes felt heavy.
But I slowly opened them.
"…Didn't I die?"
That was the first thought that surfaced when my consciousness returned.
Light stabbed into my vision, sharp and overwhelming, forcing my eyes shut again almost immediately. My head felt heavy—no, not just my head. My entire body felt wrong. Small. Unresponsive.
All I remember was glimpses of me trying to save a high-schooler with an despaired face and a ringing sensation in my ear, and some muffled voices and raindrops submerging into a pile of blood.
I blinked again, slower this time.
A woman leaned over me.
She had pale hair the color of dried wheat, loose around her shoulders, and eyes filled with something warm I didn't recognize at first. For a moment, my mind betrayed me, mistaking her for a girl.
No—she was an adult. Young, but unmistakably so.
Once again i narrowed my eyes in discomfort as the light was suddenly replaced by a shadow.
Or a person?.
(Who…?)
Beside her stood a man, taller, broad-shouldered, with brown hair tied loosely behind his head. He looked sturdy in a way that spoke of physical labor rather than polish. His expression was stiff, unsure, as if smiling didn't come naturally to him.
They spoke.
"@#$%!--!#$!--XX"
I heard the sound clearly—but the meaning slid past my hearing.
Its Neither English nor Hindi.
At least not a language I know.
The woman laughed softly, saying something I couldn't grasp. The man replied, his tone calmer, grounded.
I tried to speak.
To ask where I was.
Who they were.
What had happened to me?
But my mouth betrayed me.
"Ah… hh…"
What escaped wasn't language. Just air. A useless sound.a child's cry
I tried to move. My fingers twitched. My wrists tingled. But my body refused.
The man lifted me.
Too easily.
That's impossible.
My old body had been heavy. Unhealthy. Over a hundred kilograms of wasted years. And yet I was raised without effort.
It was like I weighed nothing at all.
A chilling thought crossed my mind.
(Did I survive… but lose my body?)(Is this what being crippled feels like?)
That day, those were the only thoughts I could manage.
The realization came not all at once, but in fragments—moments where my field of vision dipped, and I caught sight of my own hands. Too small. Too soft. Not hands at all.
A baby's.
I didn't scream. Didn't panic.
Shock had already hollowed me out once when I noticed this arrogant guy lifting me.
I accepted the fact.
I was in a baby's body.
Strangely, my memories were intact. Clearer than they had ever been near the end. There was no reason to complain about that. Plenty of people fantasize about starting over with knowledge intact.
This place wasn't Earth.
That much was obvious.
The language was unfamiliar. Their features didn't match.
Neither the clothing nor the house itself.
Everything was wooden, handmade, imperfect. Light came from flames, not bulbs.
I still might be in the hospital. I tried to brush it like that.
There were no wires. No screens. No machines humming in the background.
Civilization felt… distant.
So there is no way this is a hospital.
For now i tried to gather information and let myself act like a baby.
A few days passed.
I more or less got used to my surroundings.
I was in the cradle most of the time.
I would get to look at the surroundings only when that beautiful woman and that arrogant-looking man held me.
"XX--XX-"
The young man was actually trying to get me to laugh with a face that would actually make me want to puke.
Sometimes I would go on with it, and other times I would outright ignore him.
---
---
---
just like that
A month passed by.
It looked like I was reincarnated. I finally realized that fact.
I had become a baby.
I confirmed it when I was carried up with my head supported and my own body appeared in my sight.
I didn't know why I still had my memories, but there was nothing bad about retaining them.
Retaining memories upon reincarnation-----anyone would have entertained such delusions at least once.
I myself was an anime watcher.
The anime I watched can't be counted on fingers.
there was this thing called isekai reincarnation.
But I didn't think that such a delusion would become reality...
at least not
To me!!
The first couple I had seen when I opened my eyes.
Were confusingly my parents.
They were probably in the earlier half of their 20s.
Clearly, they were younger than me in my past life.
From the perspective of a 34-year-old, it was alright to call them young.
It really made me envious that they had children at that age.
I myself was a 34-year-old unmarried shut-in, also a virgin to boot.
I already noticed it from the start, but I didn't seem to be in my home country india.
The language was different, my parents' faces didn't appear to be Japanese, and their clothes even seemed to be those of a native village.
I couldn't see anything resembling an electronic device (the person who wore a maid's apron was cleaning with a cloth), and the utensils, bowls, and furniture were coarsely made from wood. It was probably not an advanced, developed country.
The light was not produced from light bulbs, but from candles and lamps.
Of course, there was the possibility of them being very poor and unable to afford the electricity bills.
...Maybe that possibility was very high?
I thought they surely had some money, as there was someone dressed like a maid.
But it wouldn't be strange if it were a sister of one of my parents. It would be a normal thing for her to be cleaning.
I certainly wanted to start afresh, but living in a family that could not even afford to pay the bills made me very restless.
--
--
--
A half-a-year passed by.
Forget about not being in India, I'm not even in my world.
Yes, this is an 'isekai' from anime.
I had this realization just recently.
The entire language was different.
Listening to my parents' conversations during the last half-year, I had started to understand things bit by bit.
My language grades during my school days were good.
But it seems that being good can also be a curse.
Learning this language has been a slow process when heavily influenced by a native language.
"…Didn't I die?"
That was the first thought that surfaced when my consciousness returned.
Light stabbed into my vision, sharp and overwhelming, forcing my eyes shut again almost immediately. My head felt heavy—no, not just my head. My entire body felt wrong. Small. Unresponsive.
All I remembered were fragments: me trying to save a high schooler with a desperate expression, a ringing sensation in my ears, muffled voices, and raindrops mixing into a pool of blood.
I blinked again, slower this time.
A woman leaned over me.
She had pale hair the color of dried wheat, loose around her shoulders, and eyes filled with something warm I didn't recognize at first. For a moment, my mind betrayed me, mistaking her for a girl.
No—she was an adult. Young, but unmistakably so.
Once again, I narrowed my eyes in discomfort as the light was suddenly replaced by a shadow.
Or… a person?
(Who…?)
Beside her stood a man—taller, broad-shouldered, with brown hair tied loosely behind his head. He looked sturdy in a way that spoke of physical labor rather than polish. His expression was stiff, unsure, as if smiling didn't come naturally to him.
They spoke.
"@#$%!--!#$!--XX"
I heard the sounds clearly, but the meaning slid past my understanding.
It was neither English nor Hindi. At least, not any language I knew.
The woman laughed softly, saying something I couldn't grasp. The man replied, his tone calmer, grounded.
I tried to speak.
To ask where I was.Who they were. What had happened to me?
But my mouth betrayed me.
"Ah… hh…"
What escaped wasn't language—just air. A useless sound. A child's cry.
I tried to move. My fingers twitched. My wrists tingled. But my body refused to respond.
The man lifted me.
Too easily.
That was impossible.
My old body had been heavy. Unhealthy. Over a hundred kilograms of wasted years. And yet, I was raised without effort.
It felt like I weighed nothing at all.
A chilling thought crossed my mind.
(Did I survive… but lose my body?)(Is this what being crippled feels like?)
That day, those were the only thoughts I could manage.
The realization came not all at once, but in fragments—moments when my field of vision dipped, and I caught sight of my own hands.
Too small.Too soft.
Not hands at all.
A baby's.
I didn't scream. Didn't panic.
Shock had already hollowed me out once.
I accepted the fact.
I was in a baby's body.
Strangely, my memories were intact—clearer than they had ever been near the end. There was no reason to complain about that. Plenty of people fantasize about starting over with their memories intact.
I had watched countless anime myself.
But I never thought such a delusion would become reality—
At least, not for me.
This place wasn't Earth.
That much was obvious.
The language was unfamiliar. Their features didn't match anyone from my home country. The clothing and the house itself felt foreign.
Everything was wooden—handmade, uneven, imperfect. Light came from candles and lamps, not bulbs.
There were no wires.No screens.No machines humming in the background.
This wasn't a hospital.
Civilization itself felt distant.
For now, I decided to gather information—and act like a baby.
_____________________________
TO BE CONTINUED:)
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