Part 1

I was sleeping, or was I not?

I was conscious but at the same time, I felt like I was not myself, or at least not the person I was before. Strange, huh?

Before what? I did not know.

As I was in this uncomfortable state I felt like something was pulling me. My consciousness was regaining its strength but my instincts were sending danger signals like crazy. Why I wondered?

[Someone is calling] I thought. But I couldn't hear any voice whatsoever.

Uneasiness filled my mind as I felt the call once again.

[Why is someone calling me but I can't hear it? Wait, in the first place how can I feel that someone is calling me but can't hear any voice?]

It was strange, it was all too strange. Everything I felt since now was strange. I felt that the best option was to ignore whatever the source of those calls was but bad habits are hard to break. My curiosity got the better of me so I opened my eyes. Or so I thought but it was no better than keeping them closed.

Were they even close in the first place? Everything was pitch black. I couldn't see my body or everything that was in front of me, anything at all. That's when I noticed that this scenery felt somehow familiar. I had already seen something like this. It felt like being in a deep tunnel without lights. But it didn't feel like I was the one moving, it was the tunnel itself.

[What is this place? What is happening to me?]

As I was losing myself in those thoughts, another call reached the depths of my consciousness, stronger this time, pulling fiercely. Then, a light appeared out of nowhere. Just a moment ago I was looking at a pitch black darkness and now, a little ball of light was standing right in front of me. She was vivid, so bright and dense like the light itself was made of something tangible. It was beautiful, something I have never seen yet so familiar.

[Wait, she? What the hell am I even thinking? This is bad… This whole thing's bad!]

I tried to run but my legs wouldn't even move. I tried to push but my arms had no motion.

The light spoke. She spoke words for sure but I failed to understand them. The light’s voice had no tone and yet something was telling me that she was somewhat smiling. As I was trying to get a grasp of it, I felt another pull, the strongest since the first one started. Vigorous yet devoid of any anger, instead, I could only feel the same hope a gambler is subject to whenever the dealer distributes the cards.

I lost consciousness.

Part 2

Sudden pain struck my whole body. Rather, it wasn't pain but a mixture of sensations. A ton of them. I felt hot yet it was not a “beach day “ type of hot but more like a light fever one.

Something was pressing on my body. Mainly two things. One was something pleasantly cold, it had a light and soft texture. It was rubbing against my skin and making my whole body tingle as it was gently pressing on me.

The other one was strong yet not harmful. It was underneath the first one and was pressing against my back and my forehead.

Then pain. The real one this time. Right in the center of my chest. An excruciating pain pierced my chest just like a bullet would.

I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out of it. Instead, something came in. In mere fragments of a second air came rushing from the outside eager to fill the void generating the piercing pain in my chest.

[Ah, now I get it-] I thought to myself [-I needed to breathe!]

But..why was I holding my breath? It didn't feel like I was holding my breath, more like I was gasping for it!

Noticing the weight of my eyelids pressing on my eyes I summoned what little strength I had and moved them. My vision was filled with a burning light. Instinctively I closed them but the dazzling effect didn’t diminish at all.

I tried once more. This time I was not blinded, but it still was pretty hard to see anything at all. Everything was spinning and slowly becoming clearer by the second.

“XXXX---XXX”

[A voice?]

Instinctively I looked for the source of that sound.

It came from a woman… A very beautiful woman. She was young, probably in her early thirties, light brown hair was laid loose on her shoulders and forehead, some wisps covering her face but not preventing her from seeing. She was looking at me with two big blue eyes. Not only looking but those eyes were fixed on me, with widened pupils and half-closed eyelids that felt both filled with happiness and fatigue.

Her forehead, or at least what could be seen of it, was filled with little drops of shining sweat falling down her nose and dripping through the cheeks and down the neck just to end up being absorbed by the piece of cloth on her shoulders. She was smiling and panting at the same time.

She tilted her head and looked over my shoulder.

“XXXX---XXX" She said with a sweet voice, her tone lovely.

“--XXXX---XXX" Replied the warm voice of a man, the kind you could instinctively trust.

I turned curiously toward the source of the new sound. There, a man was on his knees extending his arms toward me. He grabbed me by the armpits and brought me closer to his face.

[Damn this guy is handsome] I thought, finally able to have a good look at him.

Short black hair randomly scattered through his head and fell on his forehead. He had a stylish undercut highlighting the small ears and the earring on his left lobe. Small light green eyes were directed toward me. The contrast between them and the hair was astonishingly handsome. A light beard was covering his strong sharp jaw. The beard was deceiving but the man must've been in his early thirties.

The two spoke for a while and I listened as the woman sounded slightly displeased and, for what I understood, vigorously scolded the man.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

[What are they even saying ?! What kind of language is this? I don't understand a single word of it!]

While thinking so the idea of asking struck my mind. I tried to speak.

“ Agha”

Nothing came out of my mouth except those weird noises.

“XX----XXX!” Said the woman while cracking an awfully large smile.

“XX--!” The man replied as he started laughing.

[Are you making fun of me bastard?! Is the sight of someone who can't speak so hilarious?!] I frowned in anger.

A chill started from the back of my spine and rose to my head. To confirm it I raised my hands to my face so that they could enter my field of vision. The shock made me tremble.

The hands in front of me were small and puff...very small. Those were baby hands.

I panicked.

Part 3

Two weeks had passed since that day.

Those two weeks were really heavy for my poor brain. I was trying to process everything that happened. I was a baby, but that much I figured it out from the start. The two people I met were my mother and father.

I was a newborn baby, my physique proved it. So why the hell did I have memories, even though blurry?

The answer came by itself as time helped clear the mist on them. By the time a month passed they were crystal clear.

I knew who I was. What I had done, but I had no idea of how everything came to be as I was experiencing now.

First of all, who I was?

I recalled my name being Orren and I remembered dying. I was sure of it. But somehow, I was now a baby. How was this even possible?

Only one answer came to my mind: I was reincarnated.

I couldn't even believe it myself! Is it possible? Is reincarnation even a thing? Why was I reincarnated?

So many questions and so few answers. The fact that I was a baby but still had my memories almost intact was a fact, but still being reincarnated was totally out of my scope of possibilities!... This had to be a punishment.

Part 4

In the middle of a hot night, sweat began pouring down my body as I re-lived the events that anticipated my death.

I was named Orren and I lived in a city named Tokyo. The last thing I could recall was the rain splashing on my face as I was falling supine down from the balcony of my apartment on the 8th floor. The dark blue sky, devoid of any star, looked at me through the holes between skyscrapers. I was barely 28 when the flame of life ceased to burn in me.

I was a triathlon Olympic athlete and at the age of 24 I was at the very peak of my career. I had everything: a good reputation, a pointlessly large amount of money, a healthy body, a loving girlfriend, a welcoming family and the physique of a greek demigod. I enjoyed being under the spotlight but I didn't plan to make a living out of it. I wanted to retire after my prime, marry my girlfriend and spend my days working as a coach. Visiting my family more often would've been a must, in order to recover the time I lost buried under my training.

But everything crashed right in front of my eyes. My dreams, my career, my family...everything was taken away from me. And all of it was planned by one man, Josh Delrick, a US athlete and someone I considered my one and only rival.

Our competition traced back years, when we were still training. Always together and always competing with each other. But in hindsight, I was the only one with those kinds of feelings. To him, I was simply a nuisance.

Days before the start of the Olympic games, I was brought in front of a judge and accused of using drugs to enhance my performance, something I made a personal vow to never use. My confidence in my team was crushed as I saw each one of them testify against me. Accusing me of threatening them. Needless to say, they provided evidence of my acts and, together with the results from my test, I was radiated from the athlete association and banned from ever participating in any competition.

I was done for. Those who supported me turned their back, hating me for being the one who brought shame to the whole county. Even my own family ceased all contacts with me, going as far as disowning me. The one thing keeping me sane was the only person that never left me: my girlfriend.

With everything happening to me I developed depression and severe anxiety that led me to drown myself in cheap liquors at every given chance. My girlfriend tried her best. She tried to help me, support me, scold me whenever I was drunk, get mad at me and love me. This had gone on for six months after the incident. No human being could still bear with someone who wanted to destroy himself.

I don't blame her at all. I loved her but I was too blinded by my sadness and sorrow to notice that I was losing her, and when I did it was too late.

She left in the middle of the night. The only thing remaining me of her was a piece of paper stuck to the door saying:

"You are the worst. I'm sick of acting like a mother to someone who doesn't even look my way. Don't come search me. I don't want to see you ever again. Goodbye”

Despair filled my next three years. Every passing day flowing into the other without a purpose. I stopped training and barely ate. Every connection to the outside world was severed and the small enclosed space of my flat became my whole world, everything else was destroyed. Only the TV was left intact, just because I couldn't stand the silence so I used to leave it on for days on end. I despised that silence that filled my walls, it felt like a void slowly sucking me in.

Tired of everything, tired of being sad, tired of knocking myself out with alcohol to sleep, I watched down on the street from my balcony and made my choice. That night, Orren ceased to exist.

[This is the worst!-] I thought, tears silently falling down my cheeks [I got reincarnated. Is this some kind of joke? Did some kind of god despise me that much? Is fate toying with me? Why was I, someone who was fed up with life, forced to live another one?]

I decided to kill myself because I couldn't bear the weight of all that loss and hatred. It had to be some kind of punishment.

[Why me?]

I spent a whole month thinking that yet not a single answer was found.

Well, there wasn't much that I could do anyway. I was still an infant! I could barely move my limbs and head so thinking was my main, and only, activity. Though as they say, bad habits are hard to break.

In my past life, I was very curious, that's how I got into athletics. I guess my personality was kept within my memories. So besides thinking a hole in earth, I entertained myself by visually exploring the rooms that my parents brought me in.

I was mostly in a small room. Low walls made of dark brown wood, a single wooden door gave access to the room. On it's other side, a big glass window was filling the room with warm sun rays in the day and feeble white light during the night. The room was not highly decorated if not for a large, light brown desk in the corner opposite my cradle. Piles of paper, ink and books that changed often messed up the desk my mother tried to keep clean every morning. Besides the door, the only artificial source of light was a strange-looking lamp that had no ignition button or used fire like a candle. The only remaining thing filling the room was a flag tucked into a corner almost as if to hide it. The red fabric was only interrupted by the silvery shape of a deer with majestically large horns.

I rarely got inside other rooms, just what looked like the kitchen and my parents' bedroom from time to time. But by being held in my parents' arms I was able to explore the house, even if just a little.

It was a two-floor house made of dark wood and what looked like dark grey stone bricks only on the lower floor. On the upper floor were "my" and my parents' rooms together with another set of rooms I had no idea what held. The lower floor was mostly living space since I could always hear my parents' voices coming from what I thought was the kitchen.

And I was right. Though kitchen and dining place were fused together to create a wide space that could host many more heads than what the house currently held.

A big rectangular dark wooden table filled the majority of the room while a light grey kitchenette was placed in a corner on the opposite side of the table. Being able to host up to eight people, the table occupied a big chunk of the room and I could only wonder whether my parents were some sort of famous people that held dinners.

[Nobles, maybe?] I thought, perhaps with hints of curiosity, maybe expectancy.

Only two doors were built inside the room, one opposite the fireplace and the other between the table and the kitchenette. The walls of the room itself were mildly plain. Nothing was hanging except for the same type of lamp that was in my room. The living room only had two windows, a big one behind the front seat of the table and a smaller one on the side of the fireplace. Wooden stairs close to the smaller window led to the upper floor.

I couldn't help but contain my excitement as the realization that the house and everything it held was medieval-style filled my mind with weird ideas and legends of my past life. Either that or my parents were devastatingly poor. Needless to say the former inflated my curiosity to the point where I stopped thinking about my status as a reincarnated man and filled my mind with the excitement proper of a child.

[I want to explore this place!] I kept telling myself.