I, Yuji Shimomura, died because of a lingering illness.
I know that's a different name than the one I used before, but that was my name in my previous life. Back then, my body was frail from the start. I spent more time in a hospital bed than I ever did in a classroom.
Modern Japanese medicine is advanced, and people don't die easily, but if you ask me, all it did was prolong the agony.
I was born sickly. Every childhood ailment that came my way turned into a severe, life-threatening case. My parents must have been worried sick. Even as I grew older, nothing changed; the slightest overexertion would send my fever skyrocketing. Higher education was out of the question. I managed to struggle through a high school equivalency exam via correspondence, but "youth" and "adventure" were things that only existed for me in ink and paper.
Thanks to that, I never had much hope for the future. I developed a withered, cynical personality—someone who had simply given up.
Spending your life bedridden in a hospital is nothing short of an ascetic trial. To vicariously experience the things I couldn't have, I naturally turned to reading. My only joys were the manga, anime, and games brought to me by my brother and my few friends.
Among all of them, Hunter x Hunter was my absolute favorite.
The powerful movements of the characters.
The dazzling radiance of their sheer life force.
The heart-pounding thrill of venturing into the unknown.
And the incredibly dense, meticulous worldbuilding that supported it all.
Everything about it was captivating.
It was so alluring that I actually tried to manifest Nen. I would meditate for hours, coming up with my own abilities and naming them. I'm sure most kids have done something similar—swinging an umbrella like a sword or trying to fire a beam of energy from their palms.
In my case, I just sat in my hospital room and meditated in silence. To be honest, given my lack of physical strength, that was all I could do. I kept doing it even as I got older, so I suppose I was a textbook case of "eighth-grade syndrome." Still, compared to the actual diseases I was fighting, it was a harmless delusion. At least I wasn't bothering anyone.
By the time I reached high school age, I had become so proficient at meditation that I could have put a monk to shame. I loved the feeling of emptying my mind, immersing myself in the nothingness where no stray thoughts could reach me.
I used to joke to myself, Maybe I'll actually awaken a Nen ability, but of course, no such thing exists in reality. In the end, it was just a way to kill time—though it did wonders for my mental stability and helped stave off the crushing boredom.
The direct cause of my death was a new virus that had spread across the globe. Naturally, I was infected immediately. My condition turned critical in a flash, and just as quickly, I died.
I was eighteen years old.
...
...
My consciousness began to scatter.
So this is "Death"...
I didn't want to die.
I spent most of my life fighting a losing battle against my own body. There were still so many things I wanted to do. I really wanted to read Volume 33 of Hunter x Hunter... things were just starting to get interesting...
...…
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......
...
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Where am I...?
When I came to, I was staring at an unfamiliar ceiling.
Had I miraculously survived? No, I was certain my heart had stopped. I could swear I'd stopped breathing. This looked like a hospital room, but something was off. For starters, the room looked antiquated, like an old building from a bygone era.
Next, there was my body. I was sure I'd lost consciousness after being ravaged by that virus, but now... I didn't feel a single trace of a lingering ailment. I knew my own body better than anyone, so I could tell immediately. And that was why the sense of wrongness was so overwhelming.
"So small..."
The voice that escaped my lips wasn't mine.
Looking down, I saw that my hands had shrunken. It wasn't just my hands; as I touched my face and looked at my limbs, I realized my entire body had regressed. I was a toddler.
I felt panic rising, but years of experience had taught me that panicking only wastes precious energy. The key to not making a bad situation worse is to keep your head. I calmed myself, slipping into my habitual meditation to organize my thoughts—and the moment I did, a splitting headache tore through me.
Memories of "this body" began to surface one after another.
The owner of this body was Calm Anderson.
Age: 4.
Born in the Saherta United States.
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In other words, I had been reincarnated.
I hadn't ascended to heaven; I'd simply started over. I wanted to make a dry joke about how my name went from "Shimomura" to "Anderson," but more than anything, I realized I'd been given a second chance. This time, I wanted to live a full life.
This had to be a gift from God. It was just like those light novels I used to read, though I didn't meet a deity in a white room or get any special "cheat" abilities. Still, being able to start over with my consciousness intact was a massive advantage.
For the first time in my life, I felt truly grateful to a higher power. I was going to use this head start to enjoy life to the absolute fullest.
But while I'd heard of America, what was the "Saherta United States"? Was this some kind of parallel world? I supposed I'd have to focus on gathering information for now.
Wait... my body feels strangely heavy. Maybe I should call someone and—
It was only later that I realized the truth.
This body was just as sickly as my last one.
And once again, I cursed God.