Standing under the little roof over the step of the library, I make sure my stolen book and my new image book is tight inside my cloak inner pockets.
I take more time than necessary, barely looking behind me. At the closed door.
Nor do I look forward, at the rain falling in the street.
I hate the rain. Fucking everywhere.
When I'm finished. When everything is tight and secure, only then can you really see how clearly I've been taking more time than necessary.
Because I don't move.
For three good seconds. When everything is good, I just look at the street in front of me.
Magic exists.
I take a step forward and let the rain fall on my cloak again, slowly, I walk forward, getting back into the flow all while taking my sweet time for walking.
I want to take my time.
To think...
Magic exists. I know it, I've seen proof of it for weeks already.
I saw my grandpa move. Than I puked water. And then, just today, I noticed that people can't see me...well, kinda.
I still don't understand what I'm doing to be honest.
I look up at the sky. Remembering Okari words.
Her tone.
She sounded...weird.
I don't know her much but I never seen her that serious.
What's wrong with magic?
Also, she was about to say magic didn't exist right? So why did she switched her tone? That doesn't make much sense now does it?
Did she shifted her thought because of my enthusiasm?
What is this magic?
Is it dangerous? Is this why she was serious? Am I injuring or hurting myself by doing magic right now? Or is it just something taboo?
Is this something I should avoid talking about?
I gulp and look around. At the empty street.
For a long time in this life, I've been having a problem, a problem I could only really consider as a problem logically. I knew it was a problem because of my experience and adult thoughts, I could conclude it was a problem.
Never felt like it was a problem though.
Stepping forward, slowly again, I look at the empty streets. They're looking more menacing than before.
This problem is simple.
I wanted to die.
Well. I take another step. That's a lie.
I just didn't mind if I would die, this constant suffering grinded my mind into swiss cheese, and I've been screaming for a bullet in my head since I was a week old.
But then, I was too weak to even kill myself.
And then, I deluded myself into thinking everything would be alright, that I would grow out of it.
And then...then...then I found a potential way forward.
I still don't know how to get rid of this pain. But I have ideas.
And now. I'm learning that this world has magic...her reaction basically confirming it.
And at the same time, I'm learning that it's probably taboo. Maybe taboo enough to let those villagers that already hate me -that already see me as a waste of space in the war- get the perfect excuse to...get rid of me?
I stop.
Feeling something I didn't felt for a long time.
Feeling something I almost never felt before, something that rises in my chest and makes me breath, faster, higher, something that makes me want to scream, and run, and hide, and...and...
Holy shit.
A big cloud escapes my mouth as my heart beats in my chest, I'm hyperventilating, what is happening?
I look up. And at my right, at the playground, who's far away but not far away enough, not enough because I'm already in the street leading to the playground, my feet having led me away from my house.
I look at it, at the playground, and my eyes go past it. To look at the poor district.
And as I do. I remember, my lot in life. The hand I have been gifted.
A house in the rich district. One that may be swallowed and crushed under a wave of...magic? Maybe? Of soldiers? Of anything that decides to finally spot our village and crush us under their boot.
Rip apart villagers. Kill the childrens, rape the women, take the resources. Burn everything to the ground.
I remember this. I remeber this clearly, and my breathing picks up again, something blurring my vision.
I feel weird. Bad, it feels bad.
I keep breathing hard. In the middle of the silent street, trying to calm myself. But the only thing that I manage to do is find even more shit in my life.
My lack of independence. The fact that I live with a father, a father that hates me. Find me weird as fuck. Drink all day, and wouldn't have a problem if I dissapeared or a dumb accident took me out of this world. A father that already tried to sell me and lifted his hand against me more than once before Hatomo came in play, a father that had fun going against another weaker victim in the form of my mother when I finally had an hint of protection.
My breathing picks up again, I want to puke. And this time it won't be water.
My mother. Barely managing to keep us afloot by selling herself, barely managing to give me enough food so that I don't starve to death, but clearly not enough to fuel my need. I've become awfully familiar with the feeling of hunger and shrug it off like I shrug my pain off, my ribs are showing under my cloak, I know this, and I don't care.
I didn't care.
My hand leaves my pocket. The water hitting my skin, the rain, the cold rain. The one I stayed under for a year straight, with nothing but a shirt on because I didn't got any money.
Because I didn't fucking care if I died of hypothermia in my sleep.
I look at my hand. My weak fleshy hand, small, too small, barely able to form a fist. Barely able to defend myself.
I push my hand on my face. Feeling the cold water, feeling my hot face under it, why am I burning?
I know why I'm burning. I keep breathing, hard, even harder than after a sprint, looking up at the sky, at the empty street around me. At this village.
This poor village, in a war. At my house, with a father that doesn't mind if I died, and a mother barely able to keep me off from starving. At the villagers, that wouldn't mind if I were thrown into my grandfather personal army, thrown into the ranks of enemy soldiers at two years old.
Let's give him a rake and send him against a FUCKING monster! Maybe he'll make into a good pity card!
I look right. Past the playground, a poor place, filled with childrens hidden or kidnapped to protect this village.
And I breath again. The wind burning through my lungs.
For so long I didn't care.
I didn't care.
If someone kidnapped me? Well too bad, guess I'll slam my head against the wall till I'm done, I have the pain resistance for it after all.
If someone killed me? Perfect, let's try my luck in another reincarnation. No pain this time please.
If I went poor? If I starved? Well, it doesn't really matter, the pain of starvation doesn't hurt too bad really, maybe I'll die in my sleep, would be pretty peaceful.
Against odds too strong to fight against? The ground from a rooftop view looks mighty welcoming, let's jump.
But now?
Now?
Now I have a path forward. I have an idea on how to heal my disability, and I know that this world has magic.
I'm two years old. I have my entire life in front of me.
I can do so much.
They always said that first experience change a man. That when you'll get your first love, you'll stop playing with girls hearts, that you'll become a better person, get a stable job, start a family and live for good. They always promised me that first experiences are everything, that when you first experience the loss of someone you'll grief, you'll change, you'll remember the time lost, the time you could have passed with them, the time you could have enjoyed. They always told me first experiences were everything, love, loss, grief, rage, success.
First experiences are everything.
And for once since I was born in this world, I finally find myself hopeful about the future.
Not any of the filmsy hopes I ever got before, not any of the filthy white lies I hid myself behind while knowing damn well nothing would change by just waiting and hoping for me to heal, that nothing would change in my slowly detoriating life, said life I could see burn and die before I was even old enough to fight for it, to fight for my future.
No. For once I am hopeful, about all that I could accomplish, NOT EVEN LOOKING AT MY DISADVANTAGES!
At my lack of knowledge, at my suffering, at the war, at my grandfather, at my parents, at my lack of knowledge, about ANYTHING bad.
For once, I am hopeful and only think about my advantage as a reincarnator.
About what I could do with magic and the brain of a modern human.
I....
I look down at the playground again. In it, I see a weird sight. Three people. Three kids. Teenagers. A ten years old, another one looking a bit older, same for the next one. The oldest has a big knarly piece of wood over his shoulder, another one has a farming rake, and the last one is twirling something in his hand as he sits on a swing. They're talking together. Looking around, procrastinating I guess. Far away from the poorer district.
I.....
They look around. I can't hear them from afar. They look like academy students, like the kind of people that shouldn't be here, that should be on the poorer districts and beat up people and kidnap childrens.
I.....
One of them, the oldest, with the bat, the big piece of wood over his shoulder looks around. And as he frowns, he notices me. Eyes staight on me. He raises an eyebrow, pat the second oldest one with a rake, and he turns his head to look at me too. When the third one turns his head to look at me, I look at them too.
I....
The oldest steps forward. He's far away, but he's getting closer, vaulting over the waist high barrier around the playground, the others following him close. Really close.
I....
My lungs expand, searching for air as I see them. Some seconds ago I probably wouldn't care much. To be honest, I wouldn't care if I were in that child army or not. I wouldn't have cared.
I.....
The oldest, still far away. Put a hand around his mouth and lets out a loud "HEY!"
I...want
I take a step back.
I...want to...
They keep getting closer. Something rises in my body, in my entire body. I feel like I just jumped into a cold lake.
For once in this life, I feel something that escaped me for too long.
"WHAT ARE YO-!"
I want to live.
Without any hesitation, I turn back and sprint as hard as my little legs can carry me.