A machine beeping can be heard.

In the center of the room lies the boy whose heart had stopped beating after a year, those sounds just now indicated this.

“No! Why does it have to be this child?!”

The shrill cry of a woman echoes in the pure white room. A man past his middle age supports the collapsing woman in a hurry. A junior high school male student stood stock still with a stunned expression beside the bed. A doctor clad in a white laboratory robe and several nurses stood across them.

The boy’s request was to always keep the window open. As if the boy’s aspirations were being taken along by the winds, it continued to swing the light blue curtain gently.

I suddenly noticed I was breathing.

Like dozing off, where my consciousness has begun to sink in a low resistance pillow, describes the kind of feeling I’m having right now. It’s fluffy and comfortable.

Why am I breathing?

Strange. At that time, I should have certainly died. Everything should have ended. I tried to wake up using my full strength.

As expected, I’m really breathing! Even if I had my eyes closed, I can feel my chest rising and falling a little.

Calm down! Let’s confirm the situation first. After dying, breathing is something that should not be possible. Apart from that, being able to breathe is good, isn’t it? To begin with, this could just be a misunderstanding.

I breathed deeply several times, opened my eyes and mentally prepared to confirm the truth. I repeated this three more times. Don’t mind it, don’t mind it.

No… I have become somewhat sleepy. I’ll sleep again. I’ll think after I sleep. It’s because these days, sleeping soundly through the pain wasn’t just possible…

The next time I woke up, I can feel my body being in contact with something.

Surprised, I opened my eyes. What greeted my eyes was the white ceiling.

White ceiling… judging from the same sight I see everyday, I immediately understood.

This place… isn’t a hospital room.

Perhaps, a morgue!? Although I often look at the hospital’s walls and ceilings, as expected I’m unfamiliar with the morgue’s ceiling. I’m weak with ghosts and that sort of stuff.

Waking up in the morgue… what an unusual thing to happen.

I internally lamented while being extremely perplexed and raised my hand.

Hand. It’s a hand.

What’s the meaning of this? My field of vision was filled with something plump that was brought close to my face. The thinning hand due to being constantly under IV had vanished, when did something like that occur?

I tried turning and moving it. Exactly as I guessed, the pale hand moved in a similar manner.

No doubt about it. This baby’s hand is obviously my hand.

It suddenly dawned on me that it must be the reason I’ve woken up in the first place. When I lowered the pale white hand, a pale white foot crossed my view this time.

Foot. This time it’s a foot. For some reason, I can hear sounds by my feet. I incidentally noticed that there was an uncomfortable feeling from my lower body.

How did I… arrived into this kind of situation?

Isn’t my lower part of the body completely naked?! Could it be that… I’m actually a pervert?

I looked back on my life up until now like revolving lantern.

*Note: ‘revolving lantern’ is an idiom for something like your whole life flas.h.i.+ng before your eyes, like a fast forward movie-like scene of the past.

…Everything’s fine. I’m absolutely normal.

While I fell into a panic, a woman with a baby bottle filled with something like milk came. It seemed to be prepared for me. Emptying the baby bottle, the words I wanted to utter was completely forgotten.

I faced side ward while lying on the bed, confirming that I am the only one in the room. The nursery room seemed to be over-sized for only one person.

I opened the hand that had clenched firm unconsciously.

Pachin! Hitting my cheek, I heard a sweet sound.

Eh, right now I’ve really become a baby?

And then after a while, the room has darkened. The sun is setting. In other words, the meal before was lunch? Since then, no one has the entered the room.

Usually, even though it sometimes differ for everyone, isn’t it unusual to leave a baby for a long time? The person a while ago does not seem to be the mother… what kind of carefree babysitting is that?

Well, that’s fine. At any rate, I have moved on and grasped the current situation in these several hours. I seemed to have turned into a baby.

Moreover, from the fact that the room isn’t similar to the one I had when I was a baby, this is a completely different body.

In other words, I have been reborn.

Isn’t this level not the same as slipping on the white line in a roller shoes? I went beyond the white line too much~

Who is Mother? How about Father? Do I have siblings? Where in the world is this place, and what date is it?

What kind of person was “I” supposed to be? What is my name?

No matter how much I think about it, there seemed to be no end to these questions.

Listen! Right now, the job of a baby is to sleep. I’ll do the investigation tomorrow.

This is my long-awaited fresh start in life, after all.

While I lamented so in my mind, my eyelids closed once again.