*Munch.*
Ren slowly chewed the single, stale loaf of bread he'd found after tearing through every cupboard and drawer in the tiny kitchen. The crust was dry, and it scraped against the roof of his mouth, each bite a reminder of how little he had found. He swallowed, feeling the dense lump sit heavy in his stomach, unsatisfying and dry.
*Why are there only herbs and seasonings in here? And not a single thing to drink with this bread…* He sighed, catching himself looking longingly toward the empty shelves. *I'd kill for coffee right now.*
He looked around the modest kitchen—its wood-paneled walls seemed to hold in warmth, but there was a rough chill that lingered in the air, enough to make his skin prickle. Despite the warmth, his limbs still felt drained, each movement weighted with an unusual lethargy. He sighed again, eyes drifting to Fein, who sat by the door, rigid and alert, his eyes fixed intently on it.
"Whose house even is this?" Ren mumbled, feeling an odd chill creep up his spine as he looked at Fein's rigid stance.
A sudden bark broke the stillness, reverberating through the small cabin.
"Woof!" Fein's bark was sharp, almost commanding. The dog was on his feet, hackles raised, his stare never leaving the door.
"Huh?" Ren's brows knitted together, glancing between Fein and the door. "What is it, boy?"
Fein didn't respond but barked again, this time with a low, insistent rumble, before padding closer to the door, scratching at it with his strong paws, claws softly scraping against the wood.
*Does he want out? Or is there something… out there?* Ren's pulse quickened as he took a step toward the door, his fingers hovering over the cold, brass doorknob.
Just as he reached for it, a quiet *click* sounded, and the doorknob turned on its own. Ren took an instinctive step back, holding his breath.
The door creaked open, revealing a tall figure stepping through. A woman, bundled in a thick, fur-lined coat dusted with melting snowflakes, entered, carrying the cold scent of winter with her. Her emerald-green eyes, striking and clear, caught the soft light in the room, glinting as they met his. She was beautiful, but her expression held a mixture of worry and exhaustion, the faint lines of weariness framing her eyes.
*Oh no,* he thought, the air thickening around him as his mind raced. *This must be her house, and she probably knows me. Fein recognizes me, so she must, too.*
His heart pounded as he considered his options, wondering how he could act convincingly without any clue who he was supposed to be. He forced himself to stay calm, his mind whirring. *If she's close to me, I'll let her do the talking. Maybe she'll say something I can use.*
Ren tried to steady himself as she crossed the threshold, wiping her hands over her coat to brush off the last traces of snow. Her gaze softened as she knelt down, her cool fingers brushing his forehead. There was a scent of lavender clinging to her clothes, a warmth that contrasted sharply with the chill lingering outside.
"Thank goodness," she murmured, her fingers warm against his skin. "You look much better now." Her voice was thick with relief, yet a faint tremor betrayed her lingering concern. "I was so worried that your condition would worsen… but it seems that sleeping for three days straight did you some good."
Ren felt a curious warmth spread through his chest, both comforting and unfamiliar. The tenderness in her voice stirred something inside him, a longing he hadn't expected. He studied her face, noting the way her worry gave way to relief as her shoulders relaxed slightly.
*She must be really close to me,* he thought, trying to piece together the clues. *A mother… or maybe an older sister?*
As Ren studied her, she brushed a stray hair from his face, a ghost of a smile forming. Her fingers, delicate yet worn, held a softness he hadn't felt in years. She let out a deep sigh, though her brow remained slightly furrowed, her mind clearly elsewhere.
*He seems alright,* she thought, her relief tinged with guilt. *I've been so scared that he'd never recover... just watching him lie there for days.* She bit her lip as her gaze drifted to the kitchen.
Her eyes widened as she took in the scattered crumbs and overturned cupboards, evidence of Ren's desperate search for food. She raised an eyebrow, though her lips twitched with a hint of amusement.
"Were you that hungry that you couldn't even wait for me?" she asked softly, her tone scolding yet playful. "Your appetite must be back, then." She turned to the counter, dusting off a spot before setting down a small bundle she had brought in. "Go on, rest a bit more. I'll make you some porridge."
Her voice held a warmth that softened the room, as though she were speaking to someone truly precious to her. Ren felt a flicker of guilt; he didn't know her, didn't know how he was supposed to respond.
*She seems so gentle… and she seems to care so much. I'd better not ruin that.* Ren's heart tugged unexpectedly as he tried to maintain his composure. He nodded mutely, unsure of what else to do, and retreated to the room he had woken up in, Fein padding quietly beside him.
Back in the small, dimly lit room, Ren sank onto the bed, feeling the day's exhaustion settle heavily into his bones. Fein jumped up beside him, nuzzling against him as if sensing his unease. Ren let out a slow breath, his hand trailing over Fein's soft fur, the warmth grounding him.
*Alright,* he thought, staring at his reflection in the faintly frosted window. *First, Kobe said he put my soul in someone else's body. So… whoever this kid was, he's gone now.*
He caught his reflection—a young, thin face, with large, dark eyes that looked back at him, strangely innocent and unfamiliar. The features were his but… somehow not his.
*This poor kid,* he thought, guilt flickering in his chest. *He must've been around eight or nine… and his whole life just vanished.* He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the soft wool blanket beneath his fingers.
Pushing away the somber thoughts, he glanced around, trying to focus. *Alright. This place is isolated. It's cold, probably a remote region surrounded by forest. And it seems there's no village nearby… or else I would've seen something out the windows.*
His mind raced back to the woman's voice, her gentle concern, the warmth in her eyes as she looked at him.
*If she's close to me, I need to be careful. Acting too differently could give me away. I just need to blend in, figure out as much as I can before making any big moves.*
Fein's curious gaze brought him back to the present, the dog's steady eyes watching him closely, almost as though he understood. *Could he?* Ren thought. *If he really understands me, maybe he can help me out here.*
"Fein," he whispered, leaning in. "Is that woman… close to me?"
Fein held his gaze, his copper-colored eyes steady as he gave a low, confirming bark.
Ren's pulse quickened, a glimmer of hope brightening his thoughts. "Okay… give me your paw if she's my mother."
The dog, as if knowing exactly what Ren meant, lifted his paw and placed it in his hand.
*She really is my mother,* he thought, letting out a quiet sigh of relief. *This helps. I can use this information… it makes it easier to stay under the radar.*
Fein tilted his head, seeming to pick up on Ren's uncertainty. With a soft huff, the dog trotted over to the vanity table, picking up a small pendant that had been left on the table. He brought it back, carefully dropping it onto Ren's lap.
Ren lifted the pendant, examining the cool, silver surface. He found a tiny latch on the side and opened it, revealing a small photograph inside. In it, a young boy—his new reflection—stood between the woman and a man with gentle, kind eyes. The woman had her arm around the boy, her smile warm and open.
*It's real,* Ren thought, his heart clenching. *This woman really cares about me… and I'm taking advantage of that.*
But he pushed the guilt aside. He couldn't afford it, not in this strange world. He took a deep breath, preparing himself. *I'll need to play this right. I'm not proud of what I'm about to do, but it's necessary.*
Letting his emotions rise to the surface, Ren felt tears welling up in his eyes, and he didn't hold them back. He opened the door, stepping into the hallway, feeling the cool wooden floor beneath his feet. Each step felt heavier as he let himself feel the grief of losing his former life, of everything and everyone he'd left behind.
As he entered the kitchen, he let the weight of it all wash over him, his breaths shaky and uneven. The woman—his mother—looked up, her face pale with worry as she noticed his tear-streaked face.
"Alex!" she cried, rushing over to him, her voice tight with fear. She knelt before him, taking his small hands in hers, her grip warm and steady despite the tremor in her voice. "What happened? Why are you crying? Are you in pain? Did something happen?"
Ren let out a soft sniffle, looking up at her, his heart pounding as he whispered, "Mom…"
"Yes, Alex. I'm here," she replied, her voice thick with worry as she gently smoothed back his hair, her hands cool against his forehead.
He hesitated, feeling her warmth and the depth of her concern. But he pressed on. "I… I can't remember anything."
The color drained from her face. She stared at him, shock and fear warring in her eyes. "You… can't remember?"
"I… I only remember waking up," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Before that… it's all just blank. I try to think, but it hurts… I don't know anything."
Her grip on his hands tightened, and she pulled him close, wrapping him in an embrace that was both fierce and tender. He could feel her heartbeat, strong and frantic against his cheek, as she held him close.
*Memory loss… after everything he's been through?* She swallowed hard, guilt and worry gnawing at her. *He's been so weak, and now this…* She looked away, her jaw tightening. *I should have done more. I should have known.*
Ren's voice was soft, almost pleading as he looked up. "Maybe… if you told me about us, I might remember."
She held his face in her hands, brushing a tear from his cheek, her own eyes glistening. "Of course, Alex. I'll tell you everything," she murmured, her voice breaking as she hugged him again.
*Whatever it takes,* she promised silently, her resolve hardening. *Even if I have to give my life… I'll find a way to heal him.*
As his mother held him close, Ren felt a pang of guilt flicker in his chest. *Using her emotions isn't right,* he thought. *But I need the information.*
He softened into her embrace, listening to her heartbeat as he laid his plans. *I'm not letting this world take me down. I'll get through this. I'll figure it all out…*
A small, hidden smile crept across his face as he settled into her warmth. *No matter what.*