Chapter 2 - Second Coming of Oil

'Jesus, where am I? I feel… unusual. What am I? I don't feel quite…' Nick's voice trailed off as he slowly regained consciousness, his mind struggling to make sense of his surroundings.

The world before his eyes appeared as a murky, gray haze, making it difficult to determine his location. He attempted to move his limbs, only to discover a confining sensation, as if he were tightly bound within layers of cloth.

Though his sight was impaired, Nick found solace in the faint sounds that reached his ears. Despite the distortion, his hearing retained some functionality. He strained to listen, and listen he did.

Within the muffled echoes of his own breath, a distant voice emerged, weary and laden with the weight of age. It belonged to an elderly woman. The language she spoke possessed an unfamiliar quality, leaving him to ponder its origins.

"Is that Japanese?" Nick wondered, his knowledge of languages spanning three distinct realms. English, the language of his everyday life; Russian, the tongue employed during his university studies; and Japanese, the language he had grown up speaking.

"That boy just had to get involved in a battle against curses," the elderly woman's voice trailed off wearily. "I'm far too old to bother with child care."

Nick strained to absorb every word, his mind grasping at fragments of understanding in this newborn body. Yet, the old lady's remarks remained the only discernible information he could gather at that moment, leaving him with more questions than answers.

As the days rolled by, Nick found himself listening intently to the ramblings of the old woman. It was like eavesdropping on a never-ending soap opera, with all the juicy bits happening in the other room. The weird thing was, no matter how hard he strained his ears, he could never catch a word from the other person she was talking to.

From the old hag's orders, Nick gathered that she had some company. It wasn't just her and him in this peculiar setup. He reckoned that there was a babysitter of sorts involved, though definitely not his own mom. The feeding routine didn't involve any of that traditional breastfeeding stuff. No boob action here, folks – it was all about bottles and formula, which meant no mama bear in sight.

And if that wasn't enough, the snippets of conversation also dropped a hint about their location. Turns out, this whole gig was going down in the countryside. Just the words "countryside" coming out of the old lady's mouth painted a mental picture of wide open spaces and tranquility, a far cry from the concrete jungle Nick was used to.

'This is so boring, I can't stand this!'

All the while, Nick would use every opportunity to roll on his hands and feet, and crawl around his crib. For 8 months, he tried and failed, until he succeeded.

When a whole year went by, Nick's motor skills were on point. Crawling? Easy peasy. He even became a pro at climbing out of his crib. But the leap down? Nope, not yet. He lacked the guts for that daring move.

By the time he hit the age of two, Nick had mastered the art of regular conversations. And guess who his favorite chat buddy was? The old hag herself. It all started right after he pulled off that epic crib escape. And yeah, his words came out all babyish, 'cause his mouth was still a work in progress.

When Nick turned three, the old hag, whom he now knew as Tsukuyo, had caught on to his schtick. Surprisingly, she didn't freak out or anything. Nick, for his part, couldn't be bothered about hiding his true identity either.

By the time he hit the age of six, Tsukuyo dropped the bomb and ordered him to start pulling his weight around the house. Reluctantly, Nick became her little helper, grumbling under his breath but ultimately realizing that pitching in was the right thing to do.

When the big eight rolled around, Tsukuyo came at him with the ultimate challenge—going to school. And boy, did Nick put up a fight! He didn't hold back, ranting about how he'd wasted twenty years of his previous life cooped up in a classroom. There was no way he was signing up for that torture all over again.

But Tsukuyo, that stubborn old hag, wasn't having any of it. She straight-up threatened to kick him to the curb if he didn't toe the line.

"But come on! I'm just an eight-year-old! How can you toss out your own grandson like that?" Nick protested, flabbergasted by her audacity.

She shot back with a sassy retort, "Oh, but I thought lil' ol' reincarnator is a twenty-year-old university student? Elementary school should be a breeze for a big shot like you. Plus, ya ain't my blood anyways."

In the end, Nick had no choice but to surrender to the tyranny of the old hag. Off to school he went, grumbling all the way, unable to escape the clutches of Tsukuyo's iron will.

[Break]

"Alright, listen up, class! We've got ourselves a fresh face in town!" The teacher's voice cut through the chatter, capturing everyone's attention. Pointing a finger at the spiky-haired kid chillin' in the second row from the back, she said, "Stand up and let us know who you are!"

The student seemed oblivious to the teacher's call, his head slumped tiredly on the table. Seeing the student's lack of awareness, a fellow classmate, a boy with black hair and glasses, reached out and tapped him on his shoulder. The unexpected touch jolted the spiky-haired kid, and as he raised his head, his eyes met those of his classmate.

In a soft tone, he informed him, "Um, the teacher called. She wants you to introduce yourself to the class."

The kid, with spiky brown hair, begrudgingly lifted his head from the table and locked eyes with the teacher. With a tone that practically screamed 'I'd rather be anywhere else,' he muttered, "Seriously? Do I have to do this?"

The teacher flashed a patient smile and leaned in closer. "Well, if you want the class to know who you are, you gotta put yourself out there, ya know?"

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Nick reluctantly pushed himself up from his seat. He shot a quick glance around the room and then gave the class a nonchalant introduction. "I'm Geto, I'm from Tokyo, Girls are my jam, rules can go take a hike, and if it were up to me, I'd be outta here quicker than you can say 'homework.'" With that, he flopped back down in his seat, his body language screaming 'Let me outta here!'

"Thanks for sharing, Geto-kun," the teacher responded, her tone polite yet slightly exasperated. "Now, speaking of homework, did all of you manage to complete your assignments?"

"Aw man, I think I forgot it at home," one student looked lamenting, clearly a lie.

"Not me! I finished it and even double-checked," another piped up proudly.

"We had homework?" a third student exclaimed, caught off guard.

While the rest of the class delved into their third-grade arithmetics, Nick, or as his new name now, Geto, couldn't care less. His mind was elsewhere, occupied by thoughts that had nothing to do with the numbers and equations on the page in front of him.

His name, Geto, was clearly taken from Suguru Geto. Why did Tsukuyo choose this name, you ask? Well, she didn't, he did. Since Nick was a reincarnator and wasn't related to Tsukuyo by blood, she gave him free reign to decide his own identity, that includes his name.

"Whether ya' keep yer' old name or make a new one, I can't be bothered to decide for ya'." Tsukuyo had casually remarked, leaving the choice entirely in Nick's hands.

"Let's see…" The teacher swept across the room, settling on a girl who seemed to be deliberately avoiding any attention. Her petite frame hunched over slightly as she involuntarily tensed up under the teacher's scrutiny.

"Saki-chan!" the teacher called out. The sudden attention directed at her caused a subtle jolt of surprise to ripple through the girl's body, and she emitted a soft, startled sound. "Did you do question number 1?"

"I, I did?" Her voice carried uncertainty, as if questioning her own answer.

"That's right. Read out the first question, please, Saki-chan."