"I wonder what I did wrong this time," Yuri muttered, staring blankly at the pavement beneath her feet. Her heart felt heavy, as it always did after being fired, but this time it seemed worse. For the fifth time in a row, she'd been discarded by another company, and her self-worth seemed to crumble further with every rejection.
Yuri had always been told she was beautiful—her striking green eyes and golden blonde hair had earned her attention since she was a teenager. But those features, once seen as gifts, now felt like a curse. She was used, photographed, and admired for her looks, but never valued for her talent or her heart. It was the same pattern, again and again. She'd get hired for a campaign, wear the perfect smile, and stand in front of cameras, only to be let go once the product was launched.
The world felt like an endless series of empty promises, and Yuri couldn't shake the feeling that she was nothing more than a pretty face. Maybe it wasn't her fault, but it felt like it was. She couldn't understand why she was never given a real chance, why her beauty was both her blessing and her prison.
As she walked down the quiet street, lost in thought, the bustling noise of the city seemed distant, like a forgotten melody. She barely registered the hum of a nearby engine, her mind too consumed with the spiral of negativity. She thought about her family, her friends, and the way they always told her she was destined for greatness, that the right opportunity would come. Yet, every opportunity had been fleeting. She felt like a ghost in a world that only saw her skin deep.
It wasn't until the sound of screeching tires snapped her out of her reverie that she looked up. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw a massive trailer barreling toward her, far too fast to stop in time. She froze, her body paralyzed by the overwhelming realization. Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion, yet there was no time to react. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her thoughts scattered.
"Why me?" she thought, her breath caught in her throat, the world around her suddenly closing in. "Why am I always in the wrong place at the wrong time?" She wanted to move, to run, but her legs wouldn't obey. Her thoughts were jumbled, her life flashing before her eyes.
As the trailer loomed closer, she felt a strange calmness wash over her, a sense of finality she couldn't explain. In that brief moment, she thought of all the things she'd never get to do—never find true love, never be seen for who she really was, never find a place where she truly belonged. It was as though her whole life had led to this single point, and she had no control over it.
"God, please," she whispered under her breath, her voice trembling as tears filled her eyes. "Please give me another chance."
She didn't know what she was asking for—another chance at what? To live again, to fix everything she thought she'd done wrong? She didn't know, but the desperation filled her heart.
And then, everything went black. The world around her disappeared, her body no longer feeling the weight of existence.
But the darkness didn't last.
When Yuri opened her eyes again, the world felt different. It was no longer the busy city street, the sounds of traffic replaced by a soft, almost ethereal silence. Her surroundings were unfamiliar—ancient stone walls stretched high above her, a soft golden light filtering through a narrow window. She could feel the cool stone beneath her fingertips as she slowly sat up, her breath shaky.
"Where am I?" she whispered, her voice echoing strangely in the quiet room. It didn't make sense. Was she… alive? Had she somehow survived the accident?
Her heart raced as confusion set in, but something else lingered beneath the panic. A feeling—an odd sensation that she had been given a second chance, though she didn't know how or why. Yet deep down, she could sense that her life was about to take a turn she never expected.
Something was different now. Something had changed, and Yuri couldn't shake the feeling that her journey was only just beginning.
Yuri's tiny fingers twitched as she lay in the soft, unfamiliar bedding. The room around her was dimly lit by flickering torches, and she could hear faint murmurs, but her eyes couldn't focus. She was confused, disoriented, and overwhelmed by a strange sense of being in the wrong place.
She opened her eyes—though they were not the green eyes she once knew. These were blue, like the sky on a clear day, bright and almost too clear. But she wasn't sure what it all meant. She felt weak, her tiny limbs barely able to move. She was aware of the warmth of the blankets surrounding her, and the scent of something sweet in the air, but everything seemed too far away, too distant for her to grasp.
She whimpered softly, a small cry escaping her lips, her body still unfamiliar with the sensations of this new world. It felt like she had just been born—stripped of all memory, all knowledge of the life she had once lived. But deep down, a voice inside her whispered that something had changed. Something was different.
The door creaked open, and the soft footsteps of someone approaching made Yuri's head turn. A woman entered, her face a mix of exhaustion and tenderness. She smiled gently, her warm hands reaching out to the crib where Yuri lay. The woman leaned down, her voice soft as she spoke to the baby.
"Silver," she whispered, her voice a lullaby. "my beautiful Silver. Welcome to the world."
Yuri felt her heart flutter in a strange way at the sound of the name, though she had never heard it before. It felt right. A strange sense of peace washed over her, and for the first time since waking, she felt a tiny spark of recognition.
The woman lifted her gently from the cradle, holding her close to her chest as she whispered soothing words. "My little Silver, I've waited for you."
Yuri's small body felt warm and safe in her arms, and though she couldn't yet understand what was happening, there was an undeniable connection between the two. The name "Silver" settled in her mind, and something inside her shifted. She was no longer the girl named Yuri—she was Silver now.
The woman smiled as she rocked the baby gently, her voice low and comforting. "Rest now, Silver. You have a long journey ahead of you, but for now, just know you are loved."
From that moment, Yuri, now Silver, was cradled in the arms of her mother in this new world. The past seemed like a distant dream, fading more with each passing moment. Silver's journey had begun, and though she didn't know what awaited her, she felt an unfamiliar but growing sense of purpose.