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Kaito Takumi woke up with a start, his breath ragged and cold sweat dripping down his face. His last memory was the rush of wind against his skin as he fell, the cacophony of shouts and gunfire fading into the distance. He remembered the darkness—the certainty of death.
Yet here he was, lying on a lumpy mattress in a sunlit room.
His sharp eyes scanned his surroundings, taking in the faded wallpaper, the simple wooden furniture, and the distant chatter of children outside.
Everything felt... wrong.
"This doesn't make sense," He muttered, sitting up. His voice sounded different—softer, higher-pitched.
Kaito scrambled to his feet, his body feeling strangely light and small. Stumbling toward the cracked mirror hanging on the wall, he froze.
Staring back at him was a boy—himself, but no older than ten years old.
"What the hell...?" His fingers traced his reflection, his disbelief palpable. His once-scarred and weathered face was now smooth, youthful, and unblemished. His piercing eyes remained the same, sharp as ever, but everything else was foreign.
---
The door creaked open, and a woman's cheerful voice rang out.
"Kaito! Breakfast is ready, dear. Don't make me drag you out again!"
Turning, he saw a plump woman in her late forties, her face radiating warmth despite the faint lines of exhaustion. Her apron was dusted with flour, and her hair was tied up in a messy bun.
"Who... are you?" Kaito asked cautiously.
The woman raised an eyebrow, her hands on her hips. "Don't play dumb, young man. I'm Miss Hana, your caretaker. Now, hurry up! The others are already at the table."
Miss Hana? Orphanage? Others?
Kaito's mind raced. He had no memory of this woman or this place, yet she acted as if she had known him forever. His heart pounded as he followed her down the narrow hallway, his senses hyper-alert.
The dining area was modest but lively.
A dozen children of varying ages were gathered around a long wooden table, their chatter filling the room. The smell of fresh bread and porridge wafted through the air.
"Kaito!" A boy with messy brown hair waved at him, grinning widely. "Took you long enough. We thought you'd sleep all day!"
Kaito blinked, momentarily speechless. The boy's name surfaced in his mind unbidden: Haru, his roommate. The memories weren't his, yet they felt vivid and real, like fragments of a dream he couldn't shake.
---
Sitting down at the table, Kaito poked at the porridge in front of him, his mind spinning.
How was this possible? Was this some kind of elaborate afterlife? A simulation? And why did his memories of this world feel so real?
"Kaito, are you okay?" A girl with pigtails asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
He forced a smile. "Yeah, just... tired."
After breakfast, Kaito excused himself and retreated to the room he now shared with Haru.
Pulling out a battered laptop from the corner that had been donated by someone a long time ago to the orphanage, he quickly powered it on. His fingers moved instinctively over the keyboard, accessing a secure VPN and typing in a familiar code.
To his astonishment, the Swiss bank account he had meticulously built over years as an assassin was still active.
The balance displayed was staggering: $15,502,987,455.00.
Kaito let out a low whistle. "Well, at least some things carried over."
The sheer absurdity of the situation hit him then. Here he was, a former professional killer reborn as a ten-year-old, sitting in a run-down orphanage with over ten billion dollars to his name.
That evening, as the children played in the yard, Kaito found himself observing them from a distance.
Haru and a few others were kicking around a deflated soccer ball, their laughter echoing through the air.
Miss Hana approached him, her hands clasped behind her back. "You've been quiet today, Kaito. Is something bothering you?"
He hesitated, then shook his head. "Just... thinking."
She smiled warmly. "You've always been a thoughtful one. But don't forget, you're still a child. It's okay to have fun once in a while."
A bitter laugh escaped him. If only she knew the truth.
Miss Hana placed a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever it is, you don't have to carry it alone. This place may not be much, but we're a family."
Her words stirred something in him—a strange, unfamiliar warmth. For the first time in years, Kaito felt a flicker of something he thought he'd lost: hope.
Determined to make the most of this second chance, Kaito decided to explore the neighborhood the next day. The orphanage was located in a quiet, suburban area, surrounded by small shops and a park where children played.
"Hey, Kaito!" Haru called, jogging up to him. "Where are you going?"
"Just taking a walk," Kaito replied.
"Mind if I tag along?"
Kaito shrugged, and the two set off together.
As they wandered through the streets, Haru chatted animatedly about the orphanage, their caretaker, and the other kids. Kaito listened, filing away every detail.
At one point, they passed a basketball court where a group of teenagers was playing a heated match. Kaito paused, his sharp eyes analyzing their movements.
"Do you like basketball?" Haru asked, noticing his interest.
"Not really," Kaito replied, though he couldn't deny the intrigue he felt. The sport was fast-paced and strategic—qualities that resonated with his assassin's mind.
---
That evening, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Kaito's thoughts drifted to his past. He had spent his first life in darkness, his hands stained with blood. But now, he had a chance to start over, to live a life unburdened by the shadows of his past.
"I won't waste this," He whispered to himself.
The next morning, Kaito joined the other children in their morning chores, surprising Miss Hana with his enthusiasm.
He even helped Haru fix the broken soccer ball, earning the admiration of the younger kids.
Bit by bit, he began to adapt to his new life, embracing the simplicity and warmth of the orphanage.
For the first time in years, Kaito felt a sense of peace—a feeling he had long forgotten.
But deep down, he knew this was only the beginning.
---
As the days passed, Kaito began to plan his future, his sharp mind already devising ways to utilize his skills and resources. He didn't know what this new world had in store for him, but one thing was certain: he would make this second chance count.
The setting sun casted a golden glow over the orphanage. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to hope.
--- ✦ ✦ ✦ ---
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