The darkness was quiet. She'd grown used to that—a deep, endless quiet that held her like a comforting blanket, far away from all her past disappointments, her tired attempts at living up to expectations, and the exhaustion of just… being herself.
She hadn't exactly planned to end things, but the thought had crossed her mind once or twice. She'd felt so lost, burdened by mistake after mistake, failure after failure. Even her family had seen it in her, calling her "Porcupine" whenever she'd pushed people away in her frustration. At first, it was a joke, a reminder of her prickly personality. But over time, it became a reminder of just how tangled and defensive she felt inside, like she couldn't shake her spines and let people in.
So when the darkness finally gave way to something else, she wasn't quite sure what to make of it. There was a strange, hazy sensation—a small tug in her chest, and the faint rustle of sounds around her.
She opened her eyes slowly, feeling groggy, like she'd woken up from a very long nap. A fuzzy blur greeted her, and as her vision adjusted, she realized she was in some kind of tiny, cramped space. She blinked a few times, trying to focus. There were metal bars on one side, thick sawdust all around her, and—
Wait, she thought, a strange prickling sensation rising along her back. She tried to move her arms and legs, but they felt oddly short, stubby even. A glance downward made her heart skip—she had tiny, clawed paws instead of hands. And her body… it was covered in tiny spines.
For a moment, she just sat there, processing what she was seeing. She turned slightly and felt the spines along her back bristle and shift with her movement. No way, she thought, too stunned to even feel panicked. I'm… a hedgehog?
If she hadn't felt so sleepy and confused, she might have laughed. Or screamed. Or both. But all she could do was stare at her tiny, round form, half-amused, half-resigned. Of course. After everything that happened, of all the things she could have been reborn as… a hedgehog? The irony was almost poetic.
"Well, at least I don't have to worry about people calling me 'Porcupine' anymore," she muttered to herself, though it came out as a soft squeaky noise instead. The absurdity of it all sank in, and instead of feeling panicked, she just sighed, letting her tiny body relax.
She wasn't exactly thrilled to be reincarnated as a hedgehog in a pet store, but she figured it could be worse. After all, hedgehogs didn't have expectations. No jobs to lose, no friends to disappoint, no family to worry about. Just eat, sleep, and look cute, she thought. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
"Oh, look at you! Aren't you just the sweetest little thing?"
The voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she turned to see a young woman with wide, excited eyes peering into her cage. The woman wore a nametag that read "Mina," and she was looking at her with the kind of expression people usually reserved for puppies and kittens.
"Oh, I bet you'll find a home in no time," Mina cooed, tapping gently on the glass. "Such a darling little hedgehog!"
Home, she thought, the word feeling foreign and distant. Sure, that's what pet stores did—they sold animals so people could take them home. But who would want her, a prickly little creature that couldn't even speak?
Just then, another voice joined in, lower and softer than Mina's. "So, this is the one you were talking about?" It was a guy, and judging by his casual tone, he wasn't just another customer.
Mina turned, flashing him a grin. "Yep! Isn't she adorable? Hedgehogs are pretty unique, and she's got such a sweet face."
Curious, she looked up at the newcomer, catching a glimpse of a young man dressed in casual streetwear—a hoodie, jeans, and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. He leaned in closer, looking into her cage with a thoughtful expression. For a split second, she swore he looked a little tired, like he was running on empty.
He tilted his head, squinting as if he could see something deeper in her tiny black eyes. "Yeah, I think she's perfect," he said, his voice soft but sure. It was the kind of tone people used when they'd finally found something they'd been searching for.
She blinked, feeling a strange warmth rise in her tiny chest. Perfect? The word felt foreign, like it wasn't meant for her, especially not now. But somehow, hearing it made her feel… okay. Like maybe, for once, she wasn't a disappointment or a failure.
"Well, let's get the adoption paperwork going," Mina chirped, already bustling toward the register.
The guy nodded and returned his gaze to her. For a moment, they just stared at each other, him from the outside, her from behind the glass. She didn't know who he was, what he did, or why he'd choose a prickly little creature like her, but she figured it didn't really matter.
She let out a small, contented sigh, curling into a tiny ball as the comforting warmth of the sawdust settled around her. Maybe this new life would be simple—sleeping, eating, just existing without the pressure to be anything more than what she was.
But somewhere in her heart, she felt a flicker of curiosity. Who was this stranger? And why did he look at her like he understood something that even she didn't know yet?
As she drifted off to sleep, she decided she'd stick around and find out.