He gasped, the air burning his lungs, and pushed himself up, hands slipping in the puddle beneath him. His body twisted at an awkward angle, one leg bent under him, the other splayed out, his jacket torn at the elbow where he'd skidded. Rain poured over his face, blurring his vision, but he blinked it away, looking to the girl he'd saved.
She sat a few feet away, soaked and shivering, her pink raincoat streaked with mud. Her pigtails hung limp, water dripping from the ends, but her wide brown eyes locked on him, brimming with tears. "Th-thank you," she stammered, her voice small, trembling as she clutched a soggy stuffed bunny to her chest.
Kazu managed a shaky nod, his breath coming in ragged bursts. "You okay?" he asked, voice hoarse, his hands trembling as he tried to crawl upright, the pavement scraping his palms raw.
She nodded, sniffling, and then her face… changed. The soft roundness of her cheeks hollowed out, her eyes sinking into dark sockets, her skin peeling away like ash in the wind. Kazu froze, a scream catching in his throat as her face became a skeletal skull, the bone stark white against the gray rain, her empty sockets staring at him with an unblinking, hollow gaze.
"What the—" he choked, scrambling back, his hands slipping in the puddle again, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst. The skeleton's jaw dropped open, a silent scream, and then the world shifted, the rain slowing to a crawl, each drop hanging in the air like a frozen tear.
A deep, resonant tick echoed through the street, the sound vibrating in his bones. Kazu's head whipped around, searching for the source, and there it was—a giant clock, towering over the city, its face a swirling void of black and gold, its hands spinning backward with a grinding screech. Time slowed further, the raindrops reversing their fall, rising back toward the sky, the truck's roar fading into a low hum as it rolled backward, retracing its path.
Kazu's mind reeled, thoughts fracturing as the world rewound around him. What's happening? he thought, panic clawing at his chest, but before he could process it, the clock vanished, the rain snapped back into motion, and the truck surged forward again, as if he'd never dodged it at all.
He didn't have time to scream. The truck slammed into him, metal crushing bone, a sickening crunch that echoed in his skull as pain erupted, white-hot and all-consuming. His body flew, the world spinning—rain, lights, the girl's scream—before he hit the pavement, skidding across the asphalt, blood mixing with water in a warm, coppery pool beneath him.
He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, his vision fading to black at the edges. The girl's cry lingered, faint and fading, a small echo of the life he'd saved. Darkness took him. Not the soft fade he'd imagined, but a void—cold, absolute. Kazu floated there, weightless, his thoughts unraveling. No second chance. No fantasy world. Just the end he'd always feared.
Then—light. Faint, warm, pressing against him. Not from outside, but inside, like a spark igniting. He tried to move, to scream, but his body wouldn't obey.
Something squeezed him, tight and wet. Pressure, everywhere. His limbs felt wrong—small, fragile, trapped. Panic flared, but he couldn't fight it.
A voice broke through, muffled but close. "Push, my lady! Almost there!"
Push? Kazu's mind spun. The pressure shifted, pulling him forward. Air hit his face—cool, sharp, stinging his lungs. He gasped, a high, thin wail escaping him.
He was… crying? His eyes cracked open, blurry and weak. Shapes loomed above him—faces, soft and glowing, haloed by lantern light.
"There he is!" A woman's voice, warm but tired. "Oh, Veyra, he's perfect."
Hands lifted him, gentle but firm. He flailed, tiny fists waving. Tiny? He looked down—chubby arms, wrinkled skin, a body no bigger than a loaf of bread. A baby.
His heart—or whatever beat in this new chest—raced. He'd died. The truck had killed him. And now… this? Reincarnation?
The woman holding him smiled, her face flushed and damp with sweat. Dark hair stuck to her forehead, framing eyes the color of storm clouds. She was young, maybe mid-twenties, beautiful in a raw, exhausted way.
"My little boy," she murmured, cradling him against her chest. Her skin was warm, her heartbeat steady under his cheek. A scent hit him—milk, salt, and something deeper. Blood.
His mouth watered. A sharp pang stabbed his gums, fierce and unfamiliar. He squirmed, instinct driving him toward her neck.
"Whoa, easy now." A man's voice, deep and rough, cut in. Another face appeared—broad, tanned, with a short beard and hazel eyes. He grinned, resting a hand on the woman's shoulder. "He's got spirit already, Veyra."
Veyra laughed, soft and breathless. "Like his father, Talren. Look at those eyes—red as embers."
Red eyes? Kazu froze, his infant body trembling. He couldn't see himself, but the words sank in. Not human. Not entirely.
Talren leaned closer, his grin fading to curiosity. "Red, huh? Never seen that in the family. Maybe he's blessed by the old gods."
"Or cursed," Veyra teased, brushing a finger over Kazu's cheek. Her touch was electric, stirring that pang again. He wanted her—not as a mother, but as… something else.
His mind reeled. He was a baby, damn it. A newborn with a thirty-four-year-old pervert's brain. And yet, that hunger wasn't just for milk. It was darker, sharper, alive in his tiny veins.
The room came into focus—stone walls, a wooden ceiling, a fire crackling in a hearth. Simple, rustic, like a medieval cottage. A midwife bustled nearby, wiping her hands on a cloth, her gray hair tied back.
"Healthy boy," she said, nodding at Veyra. "Strong lungs, too. What'll you name him?"
Veyra looked at Talren, a silent question in her eyes. He scratched his beard, thinking. "Kaelith. Sounds fierce. Fits him."
"Kaelith," Veyra repeated, testing it. She smiled down at Kazu—or Kaelith now. "Welcome to the world, my Kaelith."
Kazu wanted to laugh, scream, something. Kaelith? Fine, he'd take it. But this—this body, this life—was insane. He was a baby, helpless, stuck in a fantasy world with parents straight out of a storybook.
And that hunger… He licked his lips, feeling tiny pricks against his tongue. Fangs? Already? They were small, barely there, but real.
Vampire. The word thudded in his skull. He'd dreamed of it in Tokyo, sprawled on his couch with manga and sake. Now it was him.
Veyra shifted, pulling him closer. Her neck was inches away, pale and smooth, a vein pulsing faintly beneath the skin. His gums throbbed, a craving he couldn't name tightening his chest.
No. He couldn't bite her. She was his mother here, for gods' sake. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the urge.
"Rest now," the midwife said, patting Veyra's arm. "You've earned it. I'll check on you tomorrow."
She left, the door creaking shut. Talren sank onto a stool, watching Veyra with a mix of pride and relief. "He's ours, huh? Hard to believe."
"Ours," Veyra echoed, her voice softening. She rocked Kazu gently, humming a tune he didn't know.
He let her warmth sink in, his tiny body relaxing despite itself. This was his start—his second chance.
His eyes drifted around the room. A sword hung on the wall, its blade nicked but polished. A woven rug covered the floor, frayed at the edges. A window showed a night sky—two moons now, one silver, one faint purple.