Chapter Text
I would've preferred to die of old age instead of a car crash, but I suppose I can't change that now. I never saw what hit me, all I saw was dark city road one second and horrible lights and noise the next.
When I came to I couldn't see anything, my airbag had deployed and was burning my face. I could hear sirens somewhere and I felt a hellish pain in my chest. I tried to move but my body didn't respond, I tried to scream but my mouth stayed shut. At some point the sirens, the pain in my chest, and the airbag’s burn faded away.
And then I was gone.
Warm primordial blackness, thoughts and feelings adrift in it, the blackness was too vast, too all-consuming for them to ever meet
It stayed like that, for without any real existence to partake in there were no bonds between the thoughts and feelings, no reason for them to act.
Then, at a time which could not be measured (For there was no one to measure it) something happened.
A beat began, a simple beat. A beat so simple that the complexity of language could not begin to grasp it.
But it was felt, and this feeling was internalized into thought.
More beats came, and upon every beat the primordial blackness shrunk away revealing more thoughts out of a single feeling.
Soon a change in tempo happened, the beat was faster, more exciting. The newly created thoughts discovered the other thoughts and feelings that had been shattered in death and they started linking them together.
A feeling of fur linked to a memory of a cat, half remembered plots went to half remembered shows, eventually the sentience was repaired.
And it was just in time.
When I came to my senses, it was far too much for me to handle. Blurry shapes and bright lights danced across my vision; it sounded like someone was screaming “OHH METO GO SIGH MAS” one of the shapes grabbed me, and I screamed as loud as I could.
What came out of my mouth baffled me so much I stopped panicking, a baby's shrill cry, like when they were just born. I took a moment to think “The hell?” My eyes focused, I saw doctors and nurses, my ears adjusted to the noise level, and I heard one of the doctors say “Rikaidekinai nansensu.” Was that Japanese?
The doctor who had grabbed me put me in a woman's arms; she cradled me and said “Anata no namae wa Seijun Shisōka” She said “Seijun Shisōka” in a different tone, like she was proud of something.
Seijun Shisōka? Was that my name? No it wasn't! My name is L- at that moment the logical part of my brain had finished gathering evidence and was ready to present its hypothesis.
I died in a car crash, I was reincarnated; the wheel of Samsara spun, and it landed on “Some Japanese Kid”.
“But reincarnations don't remember their past lives!” I said in my head.
“Does it matter now?” replied the logical part of my brain.
I was right, not much I could have done about it anyway except scream, which I am vowing to do as little as possible, for my mother's sake.
I decided to look up at Mrs. Shisōka’s face, after all she's my mom so I should recognize her at least.
But when I looked up I couldn't focus on her face at all,
Her eyes were ones of a predator, thin slits encased in deep, dark yellow.
I broke my vow immediately.
Two years later…
Being a baby was extremely fucking boring.
Well, being an actual baby, with no memories and such, would probably be cool, they get to learn something new and see impossible feats every single day of their little lives.
But I already knew everything! So for two years all I could do was wait for food to be delivered to me, and watch Mrs.Shisōka try to entertain me.
Maybe my life would be more exciting if I went outside the house. The windows have the blinds down so I can't see outside the house and Mrs. Shisōka always catches me when I try to escape. The year on the calendar was way past the year that I died. Maybe it's some sci-fi world out there, because you're supposed to show your baby the outside world by now!
The only new thing I have seen is Mrs. Shisōka’s weird eyes; I had gotten used to them but it was still weird seeing plain red-ish hair and an average face with wildcat eyes in the middle of it.
I think something is weird with me as well. Whenever I touch my teeth they cut open my finger and I've bitten off the top of several sippy cups.
I wonder if Mr. Shisōka has something weird with him too, he seems completely normal from what I've seen, though I don't have much reference to go off of because I hardly see him. He's always somewhere else in the house and he never comes into my room.
Are the weird things Mrs. Shisōka and I have the reason I can't go outside? I wish I could ask her, but I don't know a lick of japanese.
Thankfully, there's just a few months left till I'm 3 years old; and Mrs. Shisōka has been setting up homeschool supplies.
It still sucks that I won't be leaving the house to go to school, but once I learn Japanese I'll finally ask Mrs. Shisōka what’s up with her eyes and my teeth.