Sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtain, drawing golden lines on the tatami floor.
Tobio opened his eyes.
For a moment, he forgot where he was. The wooden ceiling with the crack in the left corner—oh, right. Grandma's house. Hanyu Village. The new world.
He sat up. This small body felt lighter than yesterday. The muscles were starting to coordinate. The fever was completely gone.
Tobio folded the blanket neatly—an old habit that carried over. Straightening the futon, arranging the pillow, making sure nothing was messy.
Then he walked to the living room.
Grandma Ageha's house was simple. But Tobio liked it. There was a warmth here he had never felt in the large Kurogane house.
The living room was about 6 tatami mats in size. A low wooden table in the center, surrounded by four sitting cushions. In the corner, an old CRT Toshiba television—a model Haruto remembered from his early childhood, before everything was replaced with flat screens in his old house. Rabbit ear antennas on top, wrapped in aluminum foil at one end.
Beside the television, stacks of newspapers tied neatly with hemp rope. Grandma's habit of not throwing away old newspapers—maybe to sell to collectors, or just as a collection.
The small kitchen at the back was visible from here. A two-burner gas stove. Pots hanging on the wall. Grandma Ageha was flipping fish in a frying pan. The smell of miso already reached the living room—warm, savory, appetizing.
Grandma Ageha turned. Her wrinkled face immediately brightened.
"Tobio! Sit down first. Grandma will prepare breakfast."
Her voice was cheerful. As if every morning was a gift.
Tobio nodded and sat at the table.
His eyes fell on the stack of newspapers.
Newspaper - July 25, 2014
He took one from the top of the pile.
Saitama Shimbun. Local newspaper. The paper was starting to yellow at the edges—maybe a few days old. But what made Tobio stop was the date.
August 18, 2014.
Haruto died in the year... he tried to remember. 2019? 2020? Hard to say. Clearly, this was five or six years earlier. Or—maybe this is 2014 in this world. No guarantee time is synchronized between the old world and the new.
But at least: technology is similar. Newspapers. Television. Occasional power outages.
Not a futuristic world. Not a primitive world.
A normal world.
He read the headline:
"Political Crisis in Tokyo Worsens"
The content was about parliamentary debates. Foreign names—Prime Minister Koizumi? Finance Minister Takenaka? Political parties he didn't recognize. Conflicts over economic policy. Defense budget. Issues that felt... ordinary. Normal. Nothing dramatic.
No Kurogane. No Reform. No father.
A different world.
Or at least—a world without Haruto. Tobio put down the newspaper.
Grandma Ageha came with a tray.
A bowl of miso soup with tofu pieces and green onions. A bowl of warm white rice. Grilled mackerel—slightly burnt at the edge, but the aroma was enticing. Pickled radish and cucumber on a small plate. Everything was simple. But for Tobio, this was more real than the luxurious meals always served by staff at the Kurogane house.
"You're reading the newspaper?" Grandma Ageha smiled as she poured green tea into a cup. "You've liked reading since you were little. Your teacher said you're a smart child."
Since little.
Tobio stored that information. So Tobio was known as a child who liked to read. A useful pattern.
He put down the newspaper. "Grandma... where is my school?"
"Hanyu Elementary." Grandma Ageha sat across from him. "Near here, a fifteen-minute walk. The building is old wood, but the teachers are good."
She poured tea for herself. "But summer vacation is still two weeks. You rest first. Later when school starts, Grandma will take you on the first day."
Summer vacation.
Ordinary children.
As Haruto, he never experienced summer vacation. Every July-August was always filled with public events. Appearances at charity events. Visits to disaster areas. Photo ops at orphanages for media consumption. Never really a vacation.
Here... two weeks without a schedule. Without cameras. Without guards.
A foreign concept.
"Do we... have neighbors?" he asked.
Grandma Ageha nodded. "Yes. The Tanaka family across the rice fields. The father is a farmer, the mother sells vegetables at the market. Their son is a boy, your age—his name is Noboru." She thought. "The Suzuki family at the end of the road. They run a small grocery store. They have two children, the daughter is in high school, the son is still in elementary."
She paused. Her eyes sparkled.
"And... your friend, Sae Toujou."
That name.
'Sae Toujou.'
Tobio repeated it in his mind. No memory. But from the way Grandma mentioned it—with a warm smile—this must be someone close to Tobio.
"Sae Toujou," Grandma Ageha continued. "Her house is at the end of the village, near the shrine. Her mother works at the post office. Sae often comes to play here. You two... well, like a stamp and an envelope. Always together."
Tobio nodded.
A close friend.
Another pattern to learn.
Grandma Ageha looked at him. "Do you want to play with them later? Sae will definitely be happy to know you're better."
Play. A foreign word.
But Tobio nodded.
Not because he wanted to play. But because he needed data. The more patterns recognized, the easier to survive. The faster he understood this world, the faster he could... what?
Live.
Yes. Live.
The sound of the sliding door opened from outside.
"Tobio! Grandma! Good morning!"
A squeaky voice, full of energy.
A little girl entered without knocking. Directly, as if it were routine.
Short brown hair—shoulder-length, slightly messy as if she had just run. Bright green eyes, rare for a Japanese person, sparkling with curiosity. Around eleven or twelve years old, same as Tobio. No uniform—denim shorts, a white t-shirt with a strange cartoon cat, dirty sneakers at the ends.
She stopped at the entrance to the living room, saw Tobio, and her face immediately changed.
Worried. Relieved. Worried again. A strange mix.
"Grandma, is Tobio okay?"
Grandma Ageha smiled broadly. "Hello Sae-chan. What a coincidence." She pointed to Tobio. "Let me introduce you, this is Sae Toujou. Your friend."
Introduce.
Tobio caught that. Grandma intentionally introduced them as if Tobio needed to be reintroduced. Maybe because of the amnesia—so Tobio wouldn't be confused.
Or maybe because Sae already knew Tobio had fallen, and needed to see for herself his condition.
Sae blinked in confusion. Why is Grandma introducing us like it's the first time?
But she quickly adapted. Her wide smile returned.
"Hello Tobio! Glad you're okay!"
Her voice was cheerful, but Tobio saw something in her eyes. Hidden worry. Like someone who was afraid of losing something, then relieved it didn't happen.
Tobio observed.
Expression: artificially cheerful? No. Genuine. But there was a layer beneath.
Posture: slightly leaning forward. Wanting to approach but holding back.
Hands: gripping the hem of her shirt. Nervous.
Data collected.
He smiled—Tobio's smile, not Haruto's trained smile. More natural. "I'm okay."
Grandma Ageha watched them both. There was something in her eyes—a subtle observation Tobio hadn't expected from this old woman.
"How about you two relax outside?" Grandma Ageha suggested. "But don't go too far, okay? Tobio just recovered."
Tobio nodded.
Sae immediately got excited. "Okay! Let's go, Tobio!"
They walked slowly away from the house.
Hanyu Village in the morning felt alive. The sound of roosters crowing in the distance. Some farmers were already in the rice fields, bent over checking the rice plants. Mothers with shopping baskets walked to the grocery store. A black and white cat slept on a low brick fence, undisturbed by those passing by.
Tobio observed everything.
Sae walked beside him. At first, silent. But Tobio could feel the girl glancing at him repeatedly.
They reached the edge of the rice fields. A path between the green plots. Water flowed slowly in the irrigation channels. Dragonflies flitted about.
Sae stopped.
Tobio also stopped. Waiting.
Sae looked down. Her hands played with the hem of her shirt.
Her voice was soft. Almost inaudible among the sound of crickets.
"I'm sorry..."
Tobio looked at her.
"I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have told you to climb that tree." Sae was still looking down. Her shoulders trembled slightly. "To catch a beetle. That... that was my idea. And you fell. And... and..."
She couldn't continue.
Tobio observed.
Expression: looking down, shoulders lowered—guilt.
Voice: trembling, soft—genuine emotion.
Content: told him to climb a tree. Catch a beetle. So this was the cause of the "fall" official version.
Relationship: Sae felt responsible. This wasn't an ordinary relationship. This was a friend who truly cared.
Tobio felt something.
Something he hadn't felt as Haruto. Someone who cared about him, not because of a symbol, but because he was him.
He raised his hand. Gently patted Sae's head.
That brown hair was soft. Like fur.
"Don't worry." His voice was calm. "I'm okay."
Sae lifted her head. Her eyes were slightly moist. "Really?"
"Yes. See?" Tobio turned his body. "Still intact."
Sae giggled. Slightly. But her smile was starting to return.
Then, without warning, she grabbed Tobio's hand.
Sae's small hand—warm, a little damp from earlier nervousness—gripped tightly.
"In that case," Sae pulled him, "I'll show you a great place!"
Tobio was pulled.
Not forced—but guided. His hand was held, and Sae began to run slowly, pulling him along.
They left the rice field path, entering a small road towards the forest at the foot of the hill. The trees grew denser. The path went up and down, tree roots protruding from the ground. Sae hopped over them nimbly, as if she knew them by heart.
Tobio followed.
At the back of his mind, analysis ran automatically.
Sae's running speed: adjusted to me. She slowed down so I could follow.
Route: seems frequently traveled. Footprints in the mossy ground.
Destination: something she wants to show. Not a trap. Not danger.
Sae's emotion: now enthusiastic. The earlier guilt had shifted to excitement.
Three minutes of slow running.
Light ahead began to brighten. The sound of water grew clearer—rushing, falling, breaking on rocks.
They emerged from the thicket of trees.
Tobio stopped. For a moment, he forgot to analyze.
The river—not wide, maybe about five meters—flowed clear over white rocks. The water was so clean the riverbed was visible: rounded pebbles, small fish swimming against the current. On the banks, large moss-covered boulders, where ferns grew wild.
Above the river, the tree canopy opened, allowing sunlight to fall in golden beams. Fine dust danced in the light. The sound of flowing water—rushing but calming—filled the entire space.
The air felt different here. Cooler. Cleaner. Like another world within the world.
Tobio breathed in.
This small chest felt... spacious.
Sae stood beside him, smiling broadly. Her face was sweaty, but her eyes sparkled.
"How is it?" she asked, slightly out of breath. "Amazing, right?"
Tobio nodded. "Yes."
One word. But enough.
Sae hopped a little. "I just found this place a few days ago! When I was looking for beetles by myself. Got a little lost, but found this!" She spread her arms, as if presenting the view to Tobio. "It's a secret, okay? Only we two know."
Tobio approached the river. Crouched at the edge. Touched the water.
Cold. Fresh. Flowing between his fingers.
A sensation that couldn't be explained. As Haruto, he had never touched river water. Never played in nature. Everything was always controlled. Clean. Sterile.
This... was different.
He stood up. Turned to Sae. "Thank you."
Sae blinked. "Eh?"
"Thank you for bringing me here."
Sae smiled. A sincere smile that made her eyes squint. "You're welcome!"
Then she jumped onto a large rock by the riverbank. "Do you want to play? We can look for fish! Or find pretty stones! Or—"
Tobio shook his head gently. "I want to rest here for a bit. The quiet atmosphere... makes me comfortable."
He walked to a large tree near the river. Its roots extended into the water, forming a natural seat. Tobio sat down, leaning his back against the tree trunk. Closed his eyes.
Sae pouted. But it was a playful pout. "Sleeping at a time like this..." she muttered.
But she didn't protest further. She sat on a rock near the water, began tossing small pebbles into the river, creating circular ripples.
Tobio didn't realize when he fell asleep.
Maybe because of the rhythmic water sound. Maybe because of the cool air. Maybe because this small body still needed rest.
The first thing he noticed was the weight.
On his right shoulder.
Something warm, soft, with a regular breathing rhythm. He slowly opened his eyes.
Sae.
The girl was asleep on his shoulder. Her head was bowed, short brown hair covering part of her face. Her breath was slow, steady. Her mouth was slightly open. Her hand—still holding one pebble—lay limp in her lap.
Tobio sighed.
Still. Didn't move. Afraid to wake her.
Ahead, the river still flowed. The sun had shifted—now brighter on the west side. Maybe it was already afternoon.
Tobio thought. Living in a new world.
No politics. No systems.
Just... this.
River. Forest. A little girl asleep on his shoulder.
A grandmother who cooked miso soup. Two weeks of summer vacation.
He almost smiled.
But— "System."
The word appeared uninvited.
Tobio's eyes opened a little wider. 'Status.'
He repeated it in his mind. The word he always thought as Haruto. The word that was his way of understanding the world.
Here, there was no political system governing his life.
But— Suddenly, for no clear reason, he felt something.
Inside this body.
Like a current. Like a subtle vibration. Like something flowing under the skin, within the muscles, between the bones.
He didn't know what it was.
But he knew it was there.
Without thinking, without planning, he raised his left hand.
Slowly. So as not to wake Sae. That small palm faced upward.
He whispered, almost inaudibly. "Fire Ball."
Nothing happened.
Empty hand. No fire. No heat. Only the palm of a twelve-year-old boy under the sunlight.
Tobio wasn't disappointed. He just observed.
No magic. No System like in reincarnation stories.
Then, silently, in his mind, he said. 'Show me something.'
Not a chant. Not a prayer. Just a statement.
And suddenly— Light.
In his left palm.
Golden yellow. Soft. Not dazzling. Just... there. Like a firefly that decided to rest on his skin.
Not a fireball. Not an explosion. Not a huge aura filling the room.
Just light. Silent. Calm. Present.
Tobio stared at it.
His eyes narrowed. Not fear. Not awe. But analyzing.
What is this? Where did it come from? Why now?
Is this related to his reincarnation?
The light lasted about three seconds.
Then vanished. Without sound. Without smoke. Without trace.
Tobio lowered his hand.
No mana consumption. No symbols. No energy felt lost from the body.
This isn't magic as known from books or games.
What is this?
He tried again in his mind, 'Show me again.'
Nothing happened.
His hand remained empty. No light. Nothing.
Tobio didn't panic. Didn't get hysterical. Just silent. Calm. Thinking.
Maybe it can't be repeated now.
Maybe it needs certain conditions.
Maybe it only happens when he's not trying. Or maybe...
He looked at Sae still sleeping on his shoulder.
Maybe this isn't meant to be shown.
10 Minutes Later
Sae stirred, her head lifting slightly. Her eyes were still half-closed. She yawned—small, like a kitten.
"Hmmm... huh?"
She rubbed her eyes. Looked around. Saw the river. Saw Tobio.
Then realized. "I... fell asleep?"
Tobio nodded.
Sae blushed. Slightly red on her cheeks. "Sorry... sorry! I didn't mean to!"
Tobio smiled faintly. "It's okay."
Sae saw her position—head on Tobio's shoulder—and her blush deepened. She quickly sat up straight, tidying her messy hair.
"I... usually don't fall asleep outside easily..."
Tobio stood up. Straightened his clothes.
"Want to go home?" he asked. "Even though it's still afternoon, I'm afraid Grandma will worry."
Sae nodded. "Yes, yes. I should go home too. Mom asked me to help clean the house."
They walked away from the river.
Tobio glanced back once. That beautiful view was still there—clear water, white rocks, sunlight dancing on the surface.
A quiet place.
They walked slowly along the path.
Midway, Sae stopped. "Tobio."
Tobio turned.
Sae smiled. A different smile from before—more mature, more sincere.
"Thanks, you know. For being willing to play with me again." She waved. "See you again!"
Tobio waved back. "See you."
Sae turned and jogged in a different direction—probably towards her house near the shrine.
Tobio continued the journey alone.
Tobio opened the door. "I'm home."
Grandma Ageha appeared from the kitchen. Her hands were still wet—maybe just washing dishes.
"Welcome back, Tobio."
She smiled. But Tobio saw it.
An expression that changed.
Only a fraction of a second. But Tobio was trained to catch pattern changes.
Grandma Ageha's smile was still warm. But in her eyes—there was something. Alertness. Observation.
As if she sensed something. Her voice was soft. But there was a questioning tone within it. "Did something happen earlier?"
Tobio was silent for a moment.
His grandmother sensed something. Maybe intuition. Maybe because she knew Tobio had just realized something strange happened that afternoon. Or maybe—
His grandmother was more than just an old woman in this village.
But Tobio couldn't tell her now. Didn't know what to tell. Didn't know her reaction.
He rubbed his eyes. Yawned. To look like an ordinary sleepy child.
"Just slept by the river. Sae took me to that quiet place."
Grandma Ageha looked at him.
Two seconds. Four seconds.
Then smiled again. Warm. As if nothing happened. "I see. Good to hear."
But Tobio knew. His grandmother didn't fully believe it.
And he also knew: His grandmother chose not to ask further. To observe. To wait.
A recognized pattern. 'Just like me.'
"For dinner, what do you want to eat?"
Tobio thought. At the Kurogane house, this question never existed. Food always came. Prepared. Served. He just ate.
"Anything. I'm not picky about food."
Grandma Ageha smiled. "In that case, Nikujaga. Can you help Grandma make it?"
Tobio nodded. "Sure."
For the first time in his life—in both his lives—he cooked.
Grandma Ageha prepared a cutting board and knife. Five potatoes, already peeled. Two carrots. One onion.
"Cut the potatoes, okay. Medium size, like this." She demonstrated. 3-centimeter potato pieces, neat.
Tobio took the knife.
His hand hesitated. He had never held a kitchen knife. Guards always cut his food—not because he couldn't, but because of security protocol.
But Tobio's body—these small hands—seemed to know.
First slice. Slightly angled. But neat enough.
Second slice. Better.
Grandma Ageha watched from the side, slicing beef thinly. She smiled. "You're getting the hang of it."
Tobio nodded. Concentrated.
Potatoes, carrots, onion—all cut. Not perfect, but enough.
Grandma Ageha sautéed the seasonings. Garlic, ginger, a little mirin. A fragrant aroma filled the small kitchen. Then the meat went in, changing color. Potatoes and carrots followed. Water. A little sugar, salt, soy sauce. Covered.
"Just wait until it's done," said Grandma Ageha. "Do you want to wait in the living room?"
Tobio shook his head. "I'll stay here."
He sat on a small stool in the corner of the kitchen. Watched Grandma Ageha move. The old woman was efficient—no wasted movements. Her wrinkled hands took this and that with certainty. As if she had done this thousands of times.
Thousands of times. Cooking for Tobio.
Alone, for six or eight years.
Tobio felt something in his chest. Something he couldn't analyze.
Nikujaga in a bowl. White rice. Pickles.
"Itadakimasu." Tobio ate slowly.
The taste—warm, savory, slightly sweet. Soft potatoes, tender carrots, meat infused with seasoning.
He ate heartily.
Grandma Ageha watched from across the table. Smiled. "Good?"
Tobio nodded. "Very good."
He continued eating.
And inside, he realized something. This was the first time he enjoyed food.
Not just eating because he had to.
But enjoying.
Because he helped make it. Because Grandma was across the table. Because of the warm atmosphere.
Maybe this is what they call "home".
Tobio helped wash the dishes.
Grandma Ageha dried the washed dishes. They worked in a comfortable rhythm. Not much talking.
Finished.
"Grandma wants to rest on the porch for a bit," said Grandma Ageha. "Do you want to join?"
Tobio shook his head. "I'm going to my room."
"Alright. Don't stay up too late."
Tobio sat on the edge of the futon.
The sound of crickets from outside. Occasionally the sound of frogs from the rice fields.
Dark. But not scary. He raised his left hand.
Stared at his palm.
The light earlier...
What was that?
He tried again. In his mind, 'Show me again.'
Nothing. "Show me."
Nothing.
"I know you're there."
No reaction.
Tobio lowered his hand. Maybe it's not something that can be summoned at will.
Maybe it needs conditions.
Or maybe... he has to understand it first.
He lay down. The wooden ceiling with the crack in the corner.
Outside, crickets chirped.
His mind still worked: His grandmother sensed something. Did she also have... abilities? Or just ordinary intuition?
This world—what's wrong with it?
And that light—what was its connection to his reincarnation?
But no answers. Only the sound of crickets.
Tobio closed his eyes. Tomorrow, gather information.
About this world. About this village. About Sae.
About his Grandmother and... about that light.
Then he slept.