Three months have passed since my rebirth into this new world, each day bringing its own quiet marvels. My life, confined to the walls of this nursery, feels like an uncharted adventure. Faces unfamiliar to me come and go, their gazes filled with warmth and curiosity. I often hear murmurs about me being the "promise of the Mo family," though the words hold little meaning to my infant mind. For now, I am simply a baby—a fragile existence entirely dependent on those around me.
My mother visits me several times a day to feed me. It's an experience that still feels strange. As a grown man inside, the act of breastfeeding carries an awkwardness I cannot ignore. Yet my small body craves the nourishment, and I've come to accept it as part of this new life. My mother's presence is a constant source of comfort. Her voice, soft and soothing, wraps around me like a lullaby. Her touch is gentle, her gaze filled with a love so deep it stirs something foreign yet beautiful within me. In my past life, I never knew this—this maternal warmth, this silent bond. It's a gift I never thought I'd receive.
One day, I managed to utter my first word. A simple "Mama." It wasn't much, but her reaction was beyond anything I had imagined. Her eyes widened, and tears glistened as she picked me up, spinning gently in joy. "My Jin Mo," she whispered, her voice trembling, "my precious son. You're growing so fast." Her happiness etched itself into my heart, a moment I would carry with me forever. It was the first time I understood how much I was cherished in this new life.
When my mother isn't around, a young maid tends to me. She's kind, with a cheerful smile that seems to brighten even the dimmest corners of my nursery. She sings lullabies and waves colorful toys to capture my attention, her melodic voice a soothing constant. She calls me "Young Master" and treats me as if I were a treasure beyond value. Though I cannot yet express it, I feel her care deeply, her presence a comforting anchor during the hours without my mother.
My days follow a simple routine: waking, feeding, playing, and sleeping. Though repetitive, it's oddly fulfilling. Yet within me, a restless energy stirs. I yearn to do more—to explore, to experience. My body, however, remains a limitation.
Today, that changed. Today, I took my first steps.
It began in the early morning as sunlight streamed through the nursery window, casting golden rays across the room. I lay on a soft mat, flailing my tiny limbs in an earnest attempt to crawl. A stubborn will, perhaps a remnant of my past self, urged me to try standing. Summoning all my strength, I pushed myself up, my wobbly legs trembling beneath me. Nyx appeared in her spectral form, her gaze filled with amusement and encouragement.
"Come on, little one," she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of pride. "You can do it."
Determined, I steadied myself, taking a shaky step forward. My legs quivered dangerously, but I refused to falter. Slowly, I took another step. And another. By the third step, triumph surged through me. I was walking—unsteadily, but walking nonetheless.
Just then, my mother entered the room. She froze, her eyes wide with disbelief, before pure joy lit her face. Rushing forward, she scooped me into her arms, holding me close as tears streamed down her cheeks. "My Jin Mo," she cried, her voice trembling with emotion. "You're growing so fast. I'm so proud of you."
Her embrace was warm, her love enveloping me like a shield. For the first time in both my lives, I felt truly happy. Nyx hovered nearby, her shimmering form radiating approval. "Well done," she said softly. "Every step forward, no matter how small, brings you closer to your destiny."
The maid, who had been watching from the corner, clapped her hands in delight. "Young Master is amazing!" she exclaimed, her pride evident. "You'll be running around in no time."
My mother kissed my forehead, her tears dampening my skin. "You've brought so much joy to my life, Jin Mo," she murmured. "I promise to give you the best of everything."
It was a small victory, but it was mine. I glanced at Nyx, who nodded knowingly, understanding the weight of this moment.
As the day wore on, a question lingered in my mind: where was my father? He hadn't visited me, not even once. Was he kind or cold? Handsome or plain? A part of me hoped he was handsome; after all, I'd like to grow up with a charming face. His absence, though, left an unspoken void I couldn't ignore.
The day ended with a parade of visitors. Young women from the clan came to see me, their laughter filling the room as they cooed and pinched my cheeks. Though overwhelming and uncomfortable, their joy was infectious. Despite myself, I smiled. This life was different, full of surprises, and undeniably good.
As I lay in my crib, staring at the stars through the nursery window, gratitude filled my heart. "Thank you, Yama," I thought, my mind drifting. "Thank you for this chance. I won't waste it."
Nyx's soft voice echoed as sleep claimed me. "Rest well, Jin Mo. Today, you took your first steps. Tomorrow, you'll take more. One day, you'll conquer the world."
And with that, I surrendered to the peace of dreams, cradled by the love of my new family and the promise of a future waiting to be written.