Chapter 2
Warm. Kenichi realized he had been unconscious. Then he realized he was inside a liquid warmer than a heated swimming pool.
(Huh? I can't breathe?!)
Confused by the realization that he was inside some kind of liquid, Kenichi tried to move, but his body wouldn't obey him.
(This is bad! I'm going to die! Hm? I'm okay even though I'm not breathing? What's going on?)
He was in warm water. He couldn't see or breathe, but he was fine. More than that, he felt incredibly calm.
Kenichi was an ordinary salaryman who'd weathered the storms of the real world, but even those stresses seemed to melt away.
He emptied his mind and simply waited for time to pass.
Ten days passed. Then, one day...
Kenichi was suddenly overcome by anxiety. He didn't know why, but a shiver of unease ran through him.
(Oh? Could this be...? Ugh, I can't breathe!)
He felt as though his entire body was being squeezed tightly, starting from his head.
He still couldn't move or see, and he couldn't hear anything. Only his consciousness remained.
Just as he thought the squeezing had stopped, he was placed in something like lukewarm water again.
(B-breathing... I can't...)
Until now, not breathing hadn't been a problem, but suddenly he was desperate for oxygen. As he struggled to breathe, a sharp impact hit his bottom. It happened again and again. Someone was spanking him.
(Ouch! That hurts! What are you doing?!)
“Waaah! Waaah!”
“He's breathing! You did great, Telesia!”
“Yes, dear...”
He heard voices for the first time. They sounded like they were speaking Japanese, but his vision was blurry and his hearing was poor. His airway was clear, and he drew in the oxygen he'd been craving, though he had no idea how fresh it was.
There seemed to be two or three people nearby, but he couldn't even tell how many were gathered around him.
They took him out of the warm water and wrapped him in something rough. After a while, he finally calmed down.
(There's no doubt about it: I've been reincarnated. Thank you very much. Why did I have to reincarnate before I was even born? At least start me off at around five years old!)
Another six months passed. Allen spent his days observing his surroundings. His sight and hearing had improved since he was born.
Now that he could crawl, he had gained a way to get around, even if only for short distances.
“Allen, are you sleepy?”
“Yesh.”
Over the past six months, he'd learned a few things. Yamada Kenichi had become Allen.
He hadn't been given a choice of gender, but at least he'd been born a boy.
The woman holding Allen was his mother, Telesia. She looked like she wasn't even twenty yet, and she was indeed in her late teens. Her brown hair was tied back with a cord and fell to her back, and she had beautiful green eyes.
She gently set him down in a small bed enclosed by a simple wooden railing. Then she tucked a scratchy, rather uncomfortable linen blanket over his shoulders.
“I'm home, Telesia.”
It was just past noon. A burly man came in through the earthen-floored entryway. He was drenched in sweat, and dirt clung to him all over.
This was Allen's father, Rodan. Like Telesia, he had brown hair and rugged features. He was tall and muscular, and looked to be around twenty.
Telesia usually called him “dear,” so it had taken Allen a while to learn his father's name.
Telesia handed Rodan a couple of steamed potatoes.
“Hm? Have you eaten yet, Telesia?”
“Huh?”
Telesia caught her breath. Rodan returned one of the two potatoes to her. This was an exchange Allen had heard often over the past six months.
“You shouldn't do that. You need to eat properly, or you won't have enough milk. The village is reducing our taxes until next year, so we need to help our child grow before then.”
“Thank you, dear.”
(I guess this village doesn't have a name.)
The village seemed to be a new settlement established by the lord. Perhaps because so many of its residents were young, Allen often heard his parents mention a child being born in the village, or a baby born at a nearby house.
(Seems like I'm still their only child.)
The only people in this house were his father, Rodan, his mother, Telesia, and himself.
Pioneer villages received tax breaks, so Allen wondered if Rodan and Telesia had left their parents' homes to come here.
Rodan stuffed a potato into his mouth, drank water from the jug with a wooden cup, and looked ready to head out again. He often kissed Telesia on the cheek before leaving, so they were still very much in love. Allen figured he'd have a little brother or sister before long.
(Life as a serf isn't easy, but it's not a bad life.)
Allen had chosen to be a serf in the real world, so he wasn't all that dissatisfied with his current situation. He had a beautiful mother and a father who cared about his family. There was just one thing he wasn't happy about.
(Status Open.)
He reached a hand into the air and called out in his mind, as if asking for something.
But nothing appeared. He lowered his outstretched hand.
(I'm a Summoner, right? Maybe I'm too young to summon anything. I can't even check my status. This really is Hell Mode. There's nothing to do.)
Allen was a six-month-old infant. Nothing more, nothing less. He was supposed to have been born a Summoner, but he couldn't do anything that suggested as much.
(In stories like this, isn't the reincarnated baby protagonist supposed to discover the magic power flowing through his body and gain a huge amount of it while he's still little? I don't feel anything like that inside me.)
With no answers in sight, sleepiness washed over him. His body was that of a baby, so he cried when he was hungry and wet himself. And when he grew sleepy, he fell into a deep slumber.
Another six months passed, bringing the first year since his reincarnation to an end.
It was around the beginning of autumn, so Allen figured he must have been born in the fall.
A more lavish meal than usual had been laid out. Allen had started eating weaning food, though for now he usually ate beans that had been boiled or potatoes that had been steamed until soft, then mashed with a pestle.
“Thanks to you taking down that Great Boar, we have such a feast today.”
“Indeed! I worked hard today for Allen's sake!”
“Thanks, Papa. Thanks, Mama.”
Allen's family were farmers. There was a field beside their house, where they seemed to grow potatoes and wheat. Since Telesia had only carried him as far as the yard, that was just his guess based on what he'd heard.
Over the past year—or, more precisely, since his consciousness had cleared—the family had spent about nine months doing nothing but farming.
It seemed that after the autumn harvest, the men of the village gathered to hunt in a nearby forest. His muscular father appeared to enjoy hunting.
Allen remembered his father saying a few times that if he hadn't been born a serf, he would have wanted to be a hunter. Those who took part got a share of the meat, so Rodan must have worked hard to bring down the prey.
(It was mostly just the natural flavor, though.)
Allen ate the food, which tasted almost entirely of its ingredients, with no hint of salt. They'd also brought out some fruit; a roughly mashed, apple-like fruit that was actually quite tasty.
After the meal, Allen was laid in bed, and he thought:
(This isn't so bad. I'm sure I'll be able to become a Summoner someday.)
As he thought this, he casually raised one hand toward the sky and murmured the words he'd said dozens of times before.
(Status Open.)
Whump!
Suddenly, a pitch-black book appeared before Allen. It floated in the air a short distance from his hand.