Like any Sunday morning, I went out to exercise before breakfast.
What can I say? I've gotten so used to it that it feels strange if I skip a day.
After so many years of doing the same thing, it's almost comforting. Besides, exercising in the morning has plenty of benefits for the body.
What kind, you might ask?
No idea. But there must be a lot; otherwise, people wouldn't recommend it so much.
So, after finishing my daily routine, I head back home. The first thing I do is go upstairs and take a shower.
I usually keep my showers short, but if there's one thing I've learned, it's that at least once a week you should allow yourself a few small indulgences. For me, that means staying much longer in the bath on Sundays.
It's relaxing and helps clear my mind. Of course, it can still be dangerous if you relax too much and end up falling asleep. Dying and finding out whether it would give me the chance to be reborn in another world isn't something I'm in any hurry to discover…
Right now, though, it's not like I have many things on my mind.
The only thing that comes up is my stupid childhood friend, who's probably plotting my murder at this very moment.
I'm aware it was a dirty move to rat her out to her mother, but I didn't have many options if I wanted to stop her from coming to this city. You could say it was my last resort.
After all, I already had more than enough during those months when we spent time together constantly. Those days still give me nightmares…
But if you ask whether I regret it…
Honestly, not really. It's better to avoid problems than to think about how to deal with them.
You never really know what's going on in her head. That's the worst part.
Still, spending my time relaxing while thinking about that girl is anything but relaxing. So I shove those thoughts into the farthest corner of my mind, stretch out, and let myself sink into the water.
…
After my long stay in the bath, I dry off and change into my usual clothes for lounging around the house: a loose T-shirt and black sweatpants. Comfort comes first.
Feeling a bit hungry, I head downstairs to the dining room. To my surprise, I notice a certain woman already having breakfast.
Even though she's simply bringing a cup of coffee to her lips, there's an elegance about her that can't be hidden. Her long, straight hair—dark in color—gives her a naturally serious air. Her skin is so pale and flawless that it's hard to find a single imperfection.
Her light-colored eyes are almost always calm… though sometimes it's not a gentle calm. Instead, it's the kind of gaze that feels like she's silently evaluating you. She doesn't need to do much to command presence, even when dressed in something simple—a dark blouse and blue jeans. Some people say the most ordinary things stand out the most.
In short, this woman is my mother, Tsurumi Rin.
"Good morning, Kaa-san," I say naturally.
I take my usual seat, where a plate of toast with jam and a cup of coffee are waiting for me.
"Good morning, Raiden," she replies calmly, still enjoying her breakfast.
I take a couple of bites from the toast before asking the obvious.
"And the other two members of our family?"
Since it's Sunday, it's more common for the whole family to be together, though there are exceptions.
"Your father is still asleep after the extra shift he worked yesterday, and Rumi is still sleeping despite me telling her not to stay up late reading."
I wouldn't call it surprising, but it happens more often than you'd think.
"I see." I nod and continue eating my breakfast.
It might seem strange that my mother and I don't exchange many words and simply eat in silence, but it's actually comforting. I once heard that sometimes silence says more than words.
So breakfast passes normally, and it's my turn to gather the dishes and wash them.
Once I finish cleaning up, the plan is to head to my room to read something—or maybe play on my game console.
Except those plans have to wait when I hear my mother speak.
"By the way, Raiden… don't you think you're forgetting something?"
I look at her with slight confusion.
Mentally, I go over my pending tasks, but nothing comes to mind. Maybe becoming a writer, but I'm too lazy for that, so I keep putting it off.
"I don't think I'm forgetting anything."
She raises an eyebrow.
"Do you already have everything ready for your first day of high school?"
My bag is still in good condition, I have some notebooks for taking notes, and I already bought my books online—they arrived yesterday afternoon…
"I think I have everything I need. And if that's all, I'll head to my room."
It's strange for my mother to ask something so obvious.
For the second time, my plans have to wait when she speaks again.
"How exactly do you plan on going without a uniform?"
"Oh!" I say in surprise.
She's right. I overlooked the most obvious thing. Of course, I could just wear the uniform from my previous school, but I'd still get called out for it anyway.
"Honestly, how can my son be this absentminded?" She shakes her head, looking disappointed.
"Mistakes happen." I nod.
"The fact that you say that with that expression worries me about your future…"
"I'll be fine. Probably…"
The future isn't something I can see, but I doubt it'll stray too far from what I expect. Even so, if the next three years end up taking a different turn, I still have the option of joining the Japan National Defense Academy after graduating.
All expenses covered, and you even get paid. Not bad.
Of course, it's not my first choice—just a backup plan.
If you're wondering whether I have a plan C, you're right. The plan is to become a famous writer. But considering how little motivation I have to actually write, it feels more impossible with each passing day.
"Anyway, get ready. We're going to the mall to buy your uniform, and some clothes that actually suit boys your age." Her words sound more like an order than a request.
I understand the part about the uniform, but…
"What's wrong with the way I dress?"
Looking myself over quickly, I don't see anything unusual.
"The clothes you usually pick are mostly sweatpants and oversized stuff."
I'm already a teenager, so even before this it was perfectly normal for me to go into a store alone and pick out my own clothes. Going one size up is easier to wear and more comfortable.
"What's wrong with wanting simple, comfortable clothes?"
People should prioritize their own comfort. What others think doesn't matter—well, except when you're looking for a job. Appearances matter then. So at least at home, I want to feel free.
"With that mindset, you won't make any friends—much less get a girlfriend."
Low blow…
It's not like I don't have friends right now, but it's also not like I meet up with them very often. Of course, there's Yumiko and Kawasaki too, but it's not like I go many places with them.
I wanted to defend my stance—maybe call for a family vote about my fashion choices—but the look my mother gave me said more than enough.
"There's no way I can refuse, is there?"
She simply smiled. My mother is so understanding and kind…
With no other choice, the next few hours of my life were sealed.
…
We arrived at the mall in my mother's car.
Once inside, I followed her to the store that sells uniforms for the various schools in the area. Now that I think about it, this is also where I bought the uniform for my previous school.
Just like last time, the purchase was quick, since it's not like I could choose the design or the type of uniform anyway.
All I had to do was try it on and get measured. Simple and fast.
If we had only come for this, we could already be heading back home. But that wasn't the case.
"I think I'm old enough that my mother doesn't need to pick my clothes anymore." I sighed as I followed her.
True to her word, I was being dragged—against my will—into a store specializing in clothes for teenagers.
"Did you say something, Raiden?" She didn't even turn around, but I could feel her cold, piercing gaze on me.
My survival instinct kicked in, so all I could do was accept my cruel fate…
After a short time that felt far longer than it actually was, we arrived at a store that screamed teenage fashion from every angle.
In the display windows were images of boys laughing and having fun while wearing different outfits; beside them stood youthful mannequins showing off the store's flashiest combinations, illuminated by bright white lights that highlighted every texture and color. Everything seemed carefully arranged to grab attention: posters with trendy photos, shelves stacked with neatly folded clothes, and a carefree atmosphere that invites you to walk in, try something on, and leave feeling like part of that vibrant world where boys my age supposedly belong.
At this point, I'm not even sure I can still consider myself a teenager, considering I already went through that phase in my previous life.
Of course, there's no rule for situations like this.
So I guess I'll just go with the flow.
"Come on, Raiden. I want you to try on several outfits."
My mother stepped into the store and immediately headed for the most eye-catching racks.
At this moment, I can't help but wonder—when did I become a dress-up doll?
Although, now that I think about it… I kind of have been since I was a baby.
Being conscious from the moment you're born isn't a good thing. Seriously, it's incredibly strange—but I'd rather not think about it… damn childhood trauma.
When I caught up with my mother, I was greeted by several sets of clothes.
"Try them on," she said calmly.
If there's one thing I've learned from living two lives, it's that men's clothing is pretty universal. Just by looking at it, you can usually tell whether it'll fit you.
"I think..."
"That wasn't a question."
Switching from a calm tone to a serious one… my mother can be scary.
With no other choice, I stepped into one of the fitting rooms carrying all the clothes she had picked out for me. I even caught a glimpse of the store clerk's somewhat awkward expression, as if this had already become a common occurrence—yet still uncomfortable to witness.
I started with the first outfit my mother had chosen. Unlike the clothes I usually keep in my closet, these fit me perfectly, hugging my figure.
Personally, I don't like clothes that cling to my body…
The first outfit was a gray shirt and a pair of black jeans.
Do guys my age really wear stuff like this? Honestly, I'd rather walk around half-naked than wear this.
"So, how does it fit?"
Without hesitation, my mother stepped into the fitting room. I think I need to explain the concept of privacy to her.
"I'm changing," I said with a sigh.
"I've seen you since you were a baby. There's nothing I haven't already seen," she replied with complete conviction. "You look more youthful now." She nodded in approval.
Part of me wanted to argue, but she wasn't wrong. Of course, there is a pretty solid way to contradict that—but saying something like that in front of your mother would be far too awkward.
So I gave up and changed in front of her.
The second outfit was a V-neck shirt that, strangely enough, only buttoned halfway down the torso, paired with white shorts.
I don't think anyone wears something like this… though I can imagine certain parts of the city where guys probably do.
"You've got a good physique. I can see your training is paying off."
"A healthy body makes for a healthy mind… or something like that," I said, scratching the back of my neck.
A slight smile appeared as I looked at myself in the mirror inside the fitting room.
Being a little narcissistic now and then isn't a bad thing—especially when it's the result of your own effort.
Of course, I'm not some mass of muscles. To put it simply, I'm well-defined. Years of training are bound to show results.
For a moment, striking a few poses in front of the mirror crossed my mind, but with my mother right there, I decided to save that for my room.
"You look just like your father when he was young," she said with a cheerful nod.
"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult." I tilted my head.
Now that she mentioned it, during the times we went to the beach as a family, I did notice my father had a great physique. He's in good shape, even though I've never actually seen him exercise.
The blessing of good genetics…
"It's a compliment. After all, your father was quite the dragon in his youth." She gave a warm smile.
That was a play on his name. After all, my father's name is Ryu.
If I remember correctly, when I once asked what my father had been like as a teenager, my mother described him as a troublemaker. Maybe another time I'll ask more about what they were both like when they were young.
After all, those wooden swords in the attic always seemed a bit suspicious…
Shaking off those thoughts, I grabbed the outfit I had already set aside. Since the fitting room door was open, another woman staring at me from a distance caught my attention.
Shouldn't she be focusing on her son or husband instead of staring at someone her son's age?
Ignoring the strange woman, I got dressed.
"That outfit looks great on you," my mother praised—something all mothers do.
"I don't like it."
No matter how you look at it, it's awful.
"It suits you. This reminds me of how I used to dress you in all sorts of extravagant outfits when you were a tiny baby." She said it with a wide smile.
The problem is that I was already conscious back then, so I have vivid memories of being treated like a dress-up doll for countless outfits.
"I'm not a little baby anymore."
"You'll always be my little baby," she said as she cupped my cheeks with both hands.
"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm almost sixteen." I gently moved her hands away from my face.
"Like I said, no matter how much you grow, in my eyes you'll always be that clumsy little baby." She patted my head before turning around. "I'll go find more clothes, so keep trying things on."
I wasn't sure whether that last part was a threat or a suggestion, so the fitting room door was closed and my attention turned to the towering pile of clothes.
Something more to my liking would probably be better… maybe if I mix and match this with that…
"Do you think I might feel like betraying the Soul Society?"
My odd combination ended up being a white-collared shirt, white pants, and a long coat in the same color. Being dressed entirely in white felt strange. Still, letting my imagination run a little, I grabbed a reddish scarf and tied it around my waist.
Of course, it's far from the original look, but it's the closest thing I can get to it here, though…
My hair is easy to style, so while looking at myself in the mirror, I adjusted it until it resembled the image I had in mind.
Then I put on a calm smile, as if I wanted to convey complete composure and absolute superiority.
"Yokoso, watashi no Soul Society."
After saying that, I started laughing.
I guess it looks decent for an improvised cosplay put together from a clothing store. Of course, I'd still have to change my hair color to make it more accurate.
Hmm…
Looking at the pile of clothes and thinking of other black-haired characters, none really came to mind.
But after thinking about it for a bit, I chose a pair of black shorts and left my torso bare. With just a slight adjustment to my hair, I managed to recreate what I had imagined.
"I'd only be missing the tattoo on my chest…"
I struck a couple of poses in front of the mirror while saying some of the character's signature lines, and it felt much better.
"Raiden, what exactly are you doing?"
There was no need to turn around, since I could see her reflection in the mirror. My mother's expression was one of pure disappointment.
Slowly, I returned to a normal posture and put on a shirt.
"I didn't realize you were already back, Kaa-san," I said, as if the last ten seconds had never happened.
She let out a long sigh, set down another pile of clothes, and then left without saying a word.
I would've preferred if she had said something…
…
Time became somewhat meaningless once I focused only on picking the clothes that caught my attention the most—or, in simpler terms, the most comfortable ones I could find among the store's piles of garments.
Still, I started to regain a sense of time once we left the store.
And, as expected, it was my job to carry all the bags to the car.
"Let's leave the shopping in the car and go get something sweet." I couldn't see her because of the huge number of bags I was carrying, but her tone sounded calm.
The slightly awkward atmosphere surrounding us dissolved with those words.
"That sounds good," I said cheerfully.
What? If there's food involved, there's no reason to stay tense.
Am I easy to persuade? You're right.
Once we left the mountain of clothes in the car, we headed toward a café. It was already eleven, so trying on clothes for so long made me a bit hungry.
On the way there, I noticed one of the shops was under construction. A large sign was the most eye-catching thing.
"Coming soon: Riox — a bookstore readers will love."
What a slogan… Who am I kidding? It's terrible.
Still, I won't complain if a bookstore opens. The ones currently in this mall mostly carry older literature, so whenever I want to buy novels, I have to go to the other shopping center.
That reminded me that I've completely neglected my idea of becoming a writer. Honestly, I'm too lazy. Even if I have the ideas in my head, the whole process of writing everything down and fixing mistakes sounds annoying. I wonder how authors manage to put up with all that.
More generally, how do people who write as a hobby deal with it? After all, nobody pays them.
It must be difficult. I silently sympathized with them.
Don't worry—I'm sure all your hard work will be rewarded someday. Unless you're one of those who abandon their stories.
I'm still waiting for the continuation of a novel I liked, but the author opened a restaurant and left the story unfinished.
"We're here," my mother said as she stopped in front of a café.
Once inside, I followed her to the counter, where we both placed our orders before heading to a table.
"That was seriously exhausting." I couldn't help complaining about all the suffering I went through trying on the clothes my mother picked.
Now that the awkward atmosphere between us had disappeared, we could talk like usual.
"You know that someday you'll have to go shopping with your wife too, so you might as well start getting used to it," she said with a smile.
"I suppose the best solution would be not having a wife."
Right now, I have no plans to get married or have children. The reason is simple—I see it as a burden and a huge responsibility.
Bringing a new life into this world and being responsible for their safety sounds far too complicated… especially when there's the remote possibility that the newborn might be someone who reincarnated…
"That's what you say now, but when you have a daughter, I'm sure you'll adore her like your greatest treasure. You probably won't even let anyone get close to her. After all, if you're like that with Rumi, I can only imagine how you'll be with your daughters," she said, answering me with an amused smile.
It's not like I'm a siscon, right? I just care about and appreciate Rumi since she's my only little sister. So if any guy wants to go after her, he'll have to earn my permission first. I don't care if he's the son of Japan's prime minister—if I don't consider him worthy of my sister, I won't accept anyone.
My little sister's future boyfriend has to be better than me, so every day I make sure to raise that bar even higher.
"I don't know the answer to that for sure, so I can't really give you a definite response."
Maybe I could change my mind in the future, so saying that I wouldn't be overprotective of my daughters would be dishonest. Of course, everything depends on the future. After all, the future is uncertain, shaped by our own decisions.
My mother showed a calm smile when she heard me.
"I used to think something similar." She looked at me fondly. "But when you become an adult, you start wanting a child—someone small and defenseless who will depend on you during their first years of life."
"For now, I can't really understand that."
"You will in the future. Having a child is a huge responsibility, from making sure they have a home to grow up in to choosing the name they'll carry throughout their life."
Now that she mentioned it, I had always been curious about my name.
"By the way, why did you name me Raiden?"
She looked a little nostalgic as she remembered and took a few seconds before answering.
"The first time I met your father, there was a storm. You could clearly hear the thunder. And when he confessed to me, it was during a storm too."
Oh, come on. How the hell do you confess to someone during a storm? From another perspective, though, I guess it could be considered kind of epic.
"So that's the reason?" I could vaguely guess the answer.
"That's part of it. When we were coming up with ideas for your name, we thought about choosing something related to thunder, since it's a memory both your father and I treasure. At first we considered Raijin. In Japanese, the name is made up of the characters 雷 and 神, meaning 'thunder' and 'god.'"
"But that wasn't the case." In a way, Raijin does sound somewhat similar to my name.
"Giving you that name would've been a bit too presumptuous. Your father agreed with that, so we went with a variation instead—Raiden. In Western culture, Raijin is often known by that name. It's composed of the characters 'Rai' (雷, thunder) and 'den' (電, lightning)."
"I see. A variation of Raijin, but still a reference to the god of thunder."
"A name can also reflect someone's personality. In your case, we hoped you'd grow up with a strong, imposing, electrifying presence… and it seems we weren't wrong."
I'm pretty sure that has nothing to do with it, but there's no need to argue. After all, I like my name.
Even as a kid, when I learned the kanji for my name, I secretly hoped I'd gain some kind of lightning-related power.
But as you can see… that didn't happen.
While I was remembering the times I used to pretend to shoot lightning in front of the mirror, the waiter brought our coffee along with a few desserts, and we started enjoying them.
My mother looked happy, and even if I don't want to admit it, I had fun today too.
Coffee and dessert together definitely lift the spirit. Maybe when I get home, I'll try shooting lightning again. The chance of it happening is never truly zero. After all, I was reborn in another world—impossible things stopped sounding so impossible to me.
As I enjoyed that sweetness the human spirit so desperately needs, my mother spoke again.
"You know, another reason we chose that name for you was because of everything you went through before you were even born."
Her words caught me off guard. After all, I have memories from even before I was born. That deep darkness is hard to forget.
"I want to hear about that," I said, taking a sip of coffee.
"During the delivery, the doctor told us there was a problem. Apparently, you were suffocating before you could be born. It scared me so much because it could've caused problems later… and in the worst-case scenario, you might've died before even being born." She had a sad expression. "But the doctor reassured me when he said you suddenly started moving, and when you were born, you looked perfectly healthy. You were already giving me scares even before you were born." She finished with a gentle smile.
I was left stunned after hearing her. Questions I had asked myself years ago were finally answered.
I thought about that situation once when I reunited with my stupid childhood friend, since her case had been different from mine. However, since I didn't know exactly what it meant at the time, I just left the matter hanging. Now, though, I think I can make a few hypotheses.
"Am I really that troublesome?" For now, I decided not to think too deeply about it.
"You are. But you're also the ideal son, so it balances out in a way… don't you think?"
Hey, why the hesitation at the end?
She looked at my face as if she had read my thoughts, and then started laughing.
"I'll settle for being a good older brother," I muttered to myself.
If there's something I can be proud of, it's that.
"And you are. Rumi is lucky to have you as her big brother."
She reached out and gently patted my head, wearing a calm, motherly smile.
Normally, I would've brushed her hand away since I could feel other people looking at us, but I didn't. Instead, I simply enjoyed that comforting feeling.
…
After paying the bill and returning to the car, we started the drive home.
My mother hummed a song as she drove. Meanwhile, I stared out the window. The things my mother said back at the café were still on my mind.
So I took this moment to focus on that.
The moment I became aware in this world was the moment I was born. Not even three seconds had passed before the darkness turned into light. Back then, I was nothing more than a newborn baby.
Once I learned how to walk, I started questioning whether people truly reincarnate into another world after they die—a question I never managed to answer.
But the more important question was this: when someone reincarnates, do they become someone new, or do they replace someone else?
What I mean is whether a person takes the place of someone who already existed or if they are simply born as a completely new existence. Thanks to something my mother said, I managed to form a theory.
Raiden died. The baby who was meant to be my parents' son died before he was even born. Because of that, my parents fell into a deep depression for several years. Eventually, with time, they decided to try having another child.
That's when Rumi was born.
But when people go through experiences like that, they sometimes develop a kind of rejection toward children. This can happen for many different reasons. Sometimes it manifests as a lack of interest in them—so much so that they end up leaving their own child to fend for themselves. You see things like that quite often in Japanese society. Of course, that's different from parents who are simply careless.
Because of that, Rumi grew up in an empty home—an environment where she had to get used to being alone from a very young age. I can't blame her for the thoughts she originally had.
That idea is based on what my childhood friend once told me about the story of Tsurumi Rumi, a secondary character from a novel. Or rather, it was her own theory, since the story never fully explained it.
So for now, that's the hypothesis I have. But that's where the other factor comes in.
Why do I believe my parents' real child died?
Before I was born, I was already conscious. Even though I was still an unborn baby, I could think, reason, and even remember things. Because of that, if I had truly been someone who reincarnated, shouldn't I have been conscious from the moment the baby developed its senses and everything else?
If that had been the case, I probably would have thought that I died and then woke up in a dark place—a place where I couldn't do anything. Any thoughts about my past life would have eventually faded away until the moment I was born and believed my soul had finished its punishment and been given a new chance.
If that had happened, the way I act and the choices I make would be very different.
But that's not what happened.
I became conscious only a few seconds before being born, as if I had taken someone else's place.
Simply put, Raiden died of suffocation. His soul left this body—and my soul took his place.
I'm not the type of person who believes much in things like souls. But when you die and end up in another world, ideas like that start to sound believable.
This thought first crossed my mind because of something she once told me. After all, her case was different from mine.
When she died, the first thing she saw was that she was being carried by some adults. Apparently, she had fallen down the stairs at the age of four and hit her head hard. According to her, the child simply died from the blow—and that's when she took the child's place.
At first I didn't believe her, and I didn't think much of it. Now, however, her words seem believable.
Does reincarnation mean taking the place of someone who has died while their body remains intact?
That's the only explanation I can come up with.
Of course, that doesn't necessarily have to be the case. At this point, it could just as easily be some kind of god who finds it amusing to move the souls of the dead into other bodies. I can't confirm anything.
But if my hypothesis is correct, then I took the place of my parents' original child.
Tsurumi Raiden died before he was born.
And I took that place.
I wonder how things would have turned out if that baby hadn't died. Would I have been reborn somewhere else, with a different family? Was I reincarnated for some purpose?
Or would I have simply died?
No matter how many questions I ask myself, I'll never get an answer. The closest I can get are hypotheses.
But even though thinking about it this much should torment me mentally, it doesn't. Or rather—it can't. That's simply the way I am.
I decided to live my life the way I want, to leave all of that behind, and to bury it deep inside me, along with the rest of myself.
Or at least, that's what I believe I'm doing.
Even so, there are moments when I'm weak.
I can act tough mentally, but I'll never be as strong as him.
And yet, that's exactly why I can remain calm. No matter what difficult or complicated situation comes my way… even if my spirit breaks—
He'll take care of everything.
Things become harder when you try to take the easiest path, but that doesn't matter. If there's one thing I'm certain of, it's that all I want is to live a good life and take care of my family.
Nothing else matters.
Even if he doesn't like that.
After all, it was his decision to let me make my own choices.
Because in the end, I...
"Raiden, we're here."
I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice we had already arrived home until my mother's voice pulled me out of my trance.
"The trip felt really short," I said as I stretched and stepped out of the car.
"Don't forget to take the groceries out of the car and put them away in your closet."
"Yeah, yeah."
I replied while grabbing the bags and heading inside the house.
Upstairs, I set the groceries beside my bed and flopped down on it.
The theory I came up with in the car had me pretty intrigued. But as they say, two heads think better than one.
Except that the other person who shares my situation right now wants to wipe me off the face of the earth. Besides, only a day has passed since that incident.
"Maybe in a few months she'll forget about it."
Even if we were to think it over together, it's not like we'd find a real answer. At best, we'd come up with something that gives a bit of meaning to our situation.
It's frustrating not having the one responsible for all this here to ask why we were reborn in another world…
"Nya."
Kuro, my loyal and battle-ready black cat, jumped onto my bed.
"What is it, Kuro? Are you going to tell me you're the god who brought me to this world and you're just pretending to be a regular cat?"
"Nya?"
My cat looked at me like I was an idiot for asking that.
"Yeah, I know. Maybe I should stop thinking about it, since it's not something I'll ever get a real answer to."
I petted my cat, who simply enjoyed the attention and claimed my bed as his own.
"Maybe you're a reincarnator too?"
Kuro didn't even bother looking at me as he started stretching and yawning.
"You're right. I wonder how complicated it would be to be reborn as a cat… hahaha."
All I could do was laugh at my own words. I'd reached the point of overthinking it, which was already a habit of mine.
"For now, all I can do is relax and wait for tomorrow."
I feel like I should be thinking about my first day at Sobu High, but it feels like it'll just be another three ordinary years as a student.
Or at least, that's what I hope…