Days of Simple Times

POV of Birth

"I was dead," I muttered in my mind. "But, am I?" I questioned myself again. It turned out I did die, but here I was. Everything seemed too bright, so I cried. "Does this mean I got a second chance?" I wondered. I was actually happy about it. I hoped to live this life to the fullest and help as many people as possible, even if it meant using loopholes. But now, as a baby, it meant going through school again. I sighed internally, not excited for the torment that awaited—school.

#### 16 Months Old

I woke up with a jolt. At 16 months old, I could form somewhat coherent words and crawl. I was still angry that muscle memory hadn't transferred with the reincarnation process, but soon, I would be up and changing the world.

My surroundings were awe-inspiring. My mother used her mind to control the fridge temperature, the house temperature, and even her computer slightly. The house wasn't grand in size, but it was homely. Wooden floors complemented a gray, modern aesthetic. The grays, browns, and silvers clashed in a pleasant mix of neutral colors. It seemed like she had placed a window in every possible spot, filling the house with natural light.

My mother was sweet, with beautiful brown eyes, glowing skin, a fair smile, and hair that reached halfway down her torso. Her other features weren't as noticeable, but she was my mother, and that was enough.

#### 20 Months Old

Now, I could walk and explore. At 18 months, I spoke my first words in a comprehensible sentence: "Hi, Mama, how are you? I can read and write, is that good?" This prompted my mother to take me to the doctor. The doctor conducted an IQ test and discovered that I had an astonishing IQ of 370 by this world's standards. This was a significant development.

My father, who seemed to be in the military, came home. He was a generic-looking man with green eyes and black hair, standing almost six feet tall from my perspective. As soon as I saw him, I reached out my hands and said, "Dada." He looked in awe at my ability to speak, and my mother informed him of the recent developments.

"This is the start of a better future," I murmured in my head as my mother called, "Kijun, come here." I toddled over to her and was fed a beautiful spread of dinner: spicy ziti, amazing flavored chicken, lemonade, and mango nectar. My father seemed to be an important asset to the military, as most of the things he spoke about were not to be discussed elsewhere. This wasn't the weirdest development to come, but I was getting used to my life here after almost two years with them.

---- Nedzu's POV----

Nedzu was panicked. It had been 20 months since the event, and what he saw wasn't good. This was what you would call a scientist of extreme caliber. He was searching for reports of children acting unusually to get a sense of who it might be but had no luck with that idea. He found 67 candidates abroad and 12 in Japan. He would keep monitoring because teachers reveal a lot of information about their students. If he was right, he would have to wait one more year until daycare or preschool to find such a character. Caregivers do the same thing as teachers, but he was rambling at this point. The habit was new and likely born out of stress.

But this stress was warranted. If this reincarnated soul worked for villains, the atrocities he could perform were unimaginable. This was why he was worried. His caliber was similar to Nedzu's but more versatile. Genetic test subjects with no soul, just reactions due to their immune system, a brain, and a good developer who found a way to create an AI for the brains of clones. He was scary, even Nedzu would admit.

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