chapter 2: mere furniture

After (more) due consideration, I have come to the conclusion that reincarnation is not that bad.

I still stand by the fact that my experience as an infant was a harrowing one that would leave lesser men broken. However, this second life has proven to contain some unexpected boons that may make all my infantile struggles worth it.

I was three years old at the time. I was feeling ecstatic at finally having regained a portion of my past mobility. One does not appreciate the ability to move one's fingers independently until it's gone. I was also grateful for having reincarnated into a good family. There was no father in the picture, but this was not a problem, as I was still plenty attached to my previous one. Besides, my current mother (only in a biological sense) was more than capable of taking care of our family, which consisted of her, me, and my twin brother, who was born moments after me. Life was good, though there was the stress of having everyone think I was only a regular intelligent child instead of a freakishly intelligent one. Nevertheless, even this proved inconsequential, as I had always been a good actor.

It was a day like any other. Mother was doing housework, as usual. She rarely ever left the house, and she did not seem to have a job at all. Since we were not poor by any means, one could only wonder where our funds came from, a question for another time.

Meanwhile, my brother was seated on the couch, watching a superhero show with remarkably realistic special effects. He always had a strange infatuation with superheroes and everything to do with them. Strangely enough, the show he was watching did not resemble anything I had ever seen before. It consisted of similar elements, but the characters were unlike anything I had ever seen. Even though I was currently living in Japan, which I did not in my previous life, I was still intimately familiar with most pop culture. It almost seemed like I was living in an alternate reality, which would not be very strange, considering my situation. However, since the content my brother was consuming did not have any effect on my status quo, I quickly ignored it.

I started to feel bored. Then I started feeling hungry. I was about to ask my mother to make me some food when I remembered she had bought cookies the day before. I quickly made sure she was still busy before hurriedly making my way to the kitchen. However, when I arrived at my destination, I remembered exactly where my mother had placed the cookies. They were on top of the cupboard, well out of reach for a three-year-old child.

I felt defeated. To be reduced from a six-foot-tall, well-built, well-coordinated man to a toddler that can barely walk and has to hide the fact he can talk well is one of the most frustrating feelings I could imagine. Still, I refused to be defeated by a piece of furniture, so I kept trying to reach the top. I tried everything I could think of, but I failed time and time again. With each failed attempt, my frustration grew. Soon, that frustration turned into rage.

With all my options exhausted, I stood there, defeated by a mere piece of wood. I was about to throw around words no three-year-old should ever know when something within me snapped. It felt like I had regained control of a previously lost limb, and instinctually, I reached out into the air, performing a pulling motion, my body clad in a rainbow-colored hue. At first, nothing happened, but suddenly, the box of cookies I had been longing for fell towards me, along with the entire cupboard.

A.N./// the plot thickens. I'm sure y'all knew what you were getting into from the beginning but it's nice to properly introduce it in the story. anyway, if you, for some reason, don't have a clue whats going on, just continue reading... love y'all