So, this was what it meant to finally die.
Darkness, it was the only thing that surrounded me, the abyss where I can only do nothing but peer at its never-ending space.
If this was life after death, then screw those priests for bullshitting us about the notion of Heaven and Hell.
Damn them and their religious propaganda.
Really, if I’m going to spend here for all eternity, then I would go all crazy like some sort of retarded patient from a mental hospital.
Not that I was one, but I once witnessed a friend of mine succumbing to madness, right after his girlfriend and mother were murdered right before his very eyes. And I sure as hell don’t want to end up like him, even when I feel nothing but sympathy for him.
Speaking of murder, I was a victim as well and the foul deed was done by someone I trusted, a man who I considered my brother in everything but blood... my one and only best friend.
My name was Takamura Daichi, 27 years old. I possessed an average height of 5’7” with a decently athletic build, black military undercut hair and a reasonably handsome face. I was happily married and expecting a kid from my pregnant wife.
Of course, I would not be seeing my child to be any longer since I was killed seemingly out of the blue. My best friend, Asakura Kuzuki, was someone who I got along pretty well with ever since we were kids. We did everything together, played together, entered military service together, and made our respective marks on the battlefield when we were assigned to hunt down rebel groups from all over the world.
But then one day, while we were on our usual assignment in Russia, a bomb exploded at our camp and the rebels invaded us. They slaughtered each one of my brothers-in-arms indiscriminately while doing unspeakable things to the few women staff who were with us.
We were caught off-guard by the sudden ambush. Our location was supposed to be top-secret. The question was: How did the rebels know where we were? The only logical answer was that someone incriminated us… There was a spy among us.
Turns out it was the bastard, Kuzuki himself. While I was on the verge of my death, he came to me with a sadistic smile and boasted about his triumph while I lie bleeding on the ground. He told me the vilest of things, like how I was a simple-minded fool who could do nothing but point a gun, an underachiever who only join the military just because I was not smart enough to enter college. Sure sticks and stones, the insults were certainly there, yada-yada, but there was one thing that he said that made me boil.
He said that he’ll be stealing my wife and my child, be her husband and the father that I’ll never be, and tell her how I died dishonorably while he, the traitor, would live to be the sole surviving hero to tell the tale of this tragic event.
Oh, how I wanted nothing more than to kill, no… slaughter, to rip his flesh off piece by piece like how a butcher butchered a pig, and make him suffer horribly with my own two hands. But alas, my life came to a halt when he finally shot me in the head.
How utterly anticlimactic. Thus ended the tale of Takamura Daichi, a Captain of the Japanese Army.
Or so I thought.
A few moments later, I was suddenly engulfed in a blinding light, covering my whole body until I could no longer see the darkness anymore.
Then, when I finally opened my eyes, I found myself staring at a white ceiling, with my body lying on a bed of the same color.
The first thing that I felt was incredible weakness and fatigue, and apparently, a dextrose was also attached to my right wrist.
So, based on my findings, this meant that I’m actually alive, and currently inside a hospital room. So, I survive a gunshot to the head then? Talk about a fucking miracle.
That was actually not the case.
Because as soon as I made any first sign of consciousness, someone quickly hugged me and cried.
It was an older woman in her middle age and someone who I never met before. She has long brown hair, green eyes, and quite a pretty face. The lady was also dressed in a simple green blouse and blue jeans.
“Haruto, thank goodness, I thought you would never wake up!!!”
Haruto? Who was that? The last time I remembered, my name was Takamura Daichi.
Despite my great confusion, I chose to remain silent for now. Perhaps the lady just mistook me for someone else? Although that was highly unlikely, given the extreme amount of emotion that she was displaying to a stranger like myself.
Additionally, my head kind of hurt slightly as well as I felt some sort of dressing on it. Must be the result of the gunshot that I miraculously survived.
Strange, a gunshot to the head would no doubt lead to almost certain death. Maybe I was lucky? There were cases of people surviving such a deadly ordeal, as long as it did not hit the brain stem and thalamus, which were crucial to consciousness and basic body functions like breath control and the heartbeat.
Defying such odds was something that I should be grateful for. Lady luck was definitely on my side on that particular day.
Anyways, I decided to end my short silence and questioned the lady, “Haruto? I’m not Haruto. Who are you, miss?”
Her expression showed more grief at my inquiry and she bit her lip, “So it’s true. You really do have amnesia as the doctor told me.”
My eyes widen and my confusion only grew further.
Amnesia? No, that’s not right. I perfectly remember everything about my past, my childhood, down to the last detail. Most importantly, how could I forget the moment when my best friend turned traitor and betrayed me and my brother-in-arms?
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While my head was still kind of sore, I felt completely fine nonetheless. I’m not sure what this woman was talking about.
As an experienced military officer of the Japanese Army and a Captain of the U.N. Special Forces who witnessed countless atrocities done by human hands, being calm in the face of adversaries was my forte. While anyone would justifiably feel anxiety in this situation, I was as collected as the wind and opted to question her further.
“Look miss, Perhaps this was a misunderstanding? I’m not Haruto. Maybe you are mistaking me for someone else? My name is-“
Before I could even finish my explanation, the woman finally broke into tears and hugged me tighter.
“Of course not!! How could I mistake my own son for someone else!? You are Hanazono Haruto!! A 15 years old high school student!! You were caught in a car accident while you were on your way to school. The doctor told me that your odds of survival were very slim, 15 to 75. I don’t know what your sister and I are going to do if you have died. Both of you are the only family I have.”
What the hell? Me, a high schooler? I’m a 27 years old working adult for crying out loud!! This was getting absurd, how could I be mistaken for someone so very young!!?
As I was about to voice out my frustration, my peripheral vision on the right caught a glimpse of something…
Something that changed my very outlook on reality and the sheer surprise that accompanied it.
It was a mirror.
And I witnessed someone different. It was not of the soldier who fought in different countries and experienced countless horrors of war.
No, it was as the lady said… a young boy who has not even reached the pinnacle of his maturity and youth.
“N-no… it can’t be…”
For the very first time in many years, I have experienced the emotion that I never would have thought would resurface ever since my very first skirmish.
Anxiety…
While I experienced this state every once in a while, it was to a lesser extent. Years of military involvement had numbed this emotional turmoil and whenever signs of such emotion threaten to emerge, I would quickly bury it through rational thinking and good judgment, even when under stress.
But in this current dilemma that I found myself in, it was anything but rational!!
How the hell did I end up in someone else’s body after I woke up from a life-threatening event!!?
Was this some sort of government scheme? To cover up my actual death? Did they somehow find the technology to transfer a person’s consciousness from one body to another? I do know a lot of military secrets after all, and future assignments were also dependent on me and my vast array of critical knowledge. Aside from being a military officer, I also served as an Intelligence Officer in the Army. Basically, I was an agent… a spy.
No, it does not make sense. Even if the government truly did, they could have transferred it to an adult who can roam freely and continue working for them instead of a teenager who was still bound by his duties and responsibilities to both his parents and school.
And even if they did whatsoever thought of doing it to a high schooler, they could have also put me out of the radar and let me operate in secrecy under the pretense of death.
Damn it, then what’s the answer to this bizarre predicament then!?
Wait… I suppose logic was out of the question then. The only other conclusion that I came up with was something that was supernatural in nature.
Reincarnation…
I was reincarnated into the body of a 15-year-old boy.
It was the only other thing that I can think of. There’s no other explanation for this.
My memories… Takamura Daichi’s memories… I can still remember them all.
But what of the boy, Hanazono Haruto’s memories? His mother told me that he was a victim of a car accident, thus having the excuse of amnesia.
This… this situation felt rather surreal indeed. I’m not exactly sure of what to do and I could only stare at my reflection in a deep trance.
“Haruto!! Haruto!! Dear, are you alright!?”
Oh right, my mother, whatever her name was, tried to get my attention as she was cowering in deep panic for my mental health.
“Miss…Uhm… Mother.” It felt weird calling her by our parental relationship. “What is the date today?”
“16 January 2022, why do you ask?” The woman instantly answered, her panic seemed to have dropped. She was probably relieved that I called her mother and started talking to her.
2022… So 15 years had passed since my untimely demise.
What was even more strange was that my death was also of the same death; 16 January 2007.
Bloody fucking hell, was fate playing tricks on me? Whatever Gods above must be entertained that I was a victim of their silly machinations.
15 years… my child would have grown into a teenager. I wonder how my wife, Himeko was doing right now. Was she alright? I hope she did not feel all too miserable when she heard of my death. That damn Kuzuki, he’s going to pay for all of this!!!
Wait…
That’s it!!!
This… this was indeed a golden opportunity. I’m going to make that bastard suffer for what he has done to me and my fellow soldiers who were involved in the operation!!!
Was this the reason for my reincarnation? To take revenge on the man himself?
If such was the case, then I’m not going to pass this chance. Asakura Kuzuki will know true pain and horror before I eventually gut him like the conniving snake he was.
The bastard was probably living splendidly without any consequences for his cruel actions. He also told me that he’ll be taking my wife and child upon my death.
That damn traitorous pig, he shall die a painful death and nothing can stand in my way.
“H-Haruto?”
The boy’s mother was concerned as she witnessed how utterly enraged I felt at this very moment.
Deep breaths, deep breaths… I suppose being angry at this situation would do me nothing good. The first thing I should do was to recover, then, I can start planning on my path to vengeance.
Composing myself, I answered her, “I’m sorry, mother. I guess I just panicked because I didn’t know what to do when I can’t remember anything. Wait, you’re really my mother, right?”
“Of course dear.” She smiled sweetly in response. “Even if you have amnesia, you are still you, Haruto, the boy who I raised to be kind and gentle. I love you, and no amount of memory loss is going to convince me otherwise.”
Kind and gentle huh. I’m very sorry lady, I really do. Your son is gone. What took place was a monster ready to take matters into his own hands to ensure that his murderer is going to die the most painful of death.
The true Hanazono Haruto is no longer of this world most likely. Maybe in his accidental death, my soul or mind took over his body. Of course, I still feel guilty for ridding a boy’s privilege of life, but I guess there’s no use crying over spilled milk. We have to make do with what we got, and I’m going to make the best of whatever chance that was presented, all for the sake of getting my revenge.
Asakura Kuzuki… wherever you are, no matter how far you are, even if you are at the edge of this godforsaken world, I’ll find you…
And I’ll kill you.