It's warm. I can feel myself moving, but I'm not going anywhere. It's...cramped. I can open my eyes yet see...nothing. Though, even in this warm darkness and tight restriction, my body still moves. My arms spread out, my body contracts, and my head squeezes through. As if guided by a mysterious force that acts beyond my will, I fall. My arms flare out, my physical stature so tiny that all movement is tight and foreign, and any attempt at "catching" myself is reduced to a futile struggle.
* THUD *
That...didn't hurt. Though I felt my body crash against what I could only presume to be the ground, I hadn't been hurt. However, the blinding light that forced my eyes shut had been quite damaging. Though, of course, it was only a matter of time before my eyes adjusted. My pulsating and slick thick and wet fluid body lifted and my eyes began to open. And in front of me, it was a horrid sight.
It had been a woman. She had red skin with marks of deep blue appearing in spots along her collarbone and neck. Her eyes were shut with tears seeping from them as if she had been crying for so long without ever having wiped the tears. Resting upon her small head had been white tufts of hair, in some parts ratty and rough yet still, elegant in an undefinable manner. The hair stretched down her neck yet hadn't been long enough to reach her back. With such dirty hair and bruised skin, you could assume she had lived quite a rough life. And her tattered and ripped clothes didn't do her any favors in changing that perception.
However, what struck me hardest was not her red skin, not her bruised blue patches, and not even her ratty appearance. No, what stood out most was the fleshy cord that stretched from under her dress...and right to my belly. Reasoning and logic had not formed within me yet, however, as if it were a simple instinctual response, I knew this woman had been my mother.
And the wet fluid that coated my body...had been her blood.
Not long after realizing that my mother had been dying before me without truly comprehending the concept of "death", I acted as if off a simple internal instinct. My body was small, yet, it was for some reason bigger than what I "remembered". But what did I remember? What did I originally assume newborns should look like? And why did I for some reason "know" what a newborn was?
Questions I didn't have time to answer or get answered swirled around inside me. I'd die if I didn't find shelter. No matter how big and capable I had been, I was still fresh out of the womb. Tch...such a pain in the ass.
"Pain in the ass"? Why did I think that sort of thing? Just as I thought that any potential answers slipped away.
Tugging along the cord that connected me to my unconscious mother, I managed to pull along her weight. It was a miracle honestly...I mean, to produce such strength in these tiny little arms? If only I still had my muscles...But even without them, the power I was able to produce was enough to drag my mother behind me deeper into the darkness of where we had been. I strayed away from the light that led to other "people" solely on instinct.
Everything inside me told me that would not go well.
Eventually, after what seemed to be truly forever, my small body gave out. I fell as I lacked the strength to continue pulling and slipped in the blood that dripped from my body. Though, as if a miracle by whatever sort of god blessed me with this horrific situation, I fell in front of a door with a bright light coming from within. And with all the power inside of me, I raised my little fist to bang against the door. The thuds were minimal, barely even recognizable. But they were distinct.
Distinct enough for someone to come to the door. The door opened and before I could see the insides of the place and have the light wash over me, a shadow was immediately cast upon my body. A tall, muscular, and rather burly man stood over me. With a simple,
"Huh..?"
In a gravely, unrefined, and bothered tone, he grunted at me. However, by then, I didn't have any strength to do anything let alone try and respond with any sort of "coherence." And so, I passed out, covered in blood and still connected to my mother's womb.
Hours passed, no, maybe even a full day, I couldn't truly tell. My body had been lifted, lowered, bathed, clothed, and even fed and changed before I would regain consciousness. However, when I did and I had the strength to lift my body, I found myself in front of a mirror. Sitting in a bed, there I was. And despite still being a newborn, I knew "who" I was. It was there in my own eyes. Before I could even take note of my appearance, my small mouth moved, words forming.
" Ry...o...ta. Ku...ro...gane. Kurogane. Ryota Kurogane."
I was Kurogane Ryota. And I was in class, was I not? I mean, I couldn't remember anything beyond talking with the boys...but...I swear I had been in class. So why...why was I, Ryota Kurogane, sitting in an unknown bed staring at a mirror, looking into the eyes of a...monster?
My skin had a pale hint to it but the color was red. My hair was a pale white that barely even gave me a hairline, rough and spiky. The eyes I looked into had black sclera with red pupils, a combination you'd only see in some sort of...fantasy novel. Is that what they were called? My body couldn't be any bigger than 24...no...26 inches...But even as small as that had been, I was still quite big. And I understood that. Though, my size wasn't what had me most confused. Not even the red skin. No, it was something right smack dab in the middle of my forehead, something like a stub. However, it was pointed and sharp at the end. Even grazing it with my finger left a bit of a prick.
A horn. I had a horn growing out of my forehead.
* CLICK— CREAK *
Right as I had been still touching the horn, the door opened. Defensively, I jumped from the bed I had been in, my body surprisingly springy and sturdy, landing in a corner of the room, near a window as if I were prepared to dive right out of it.
"Woah kid, calm down. The fact you can even jump around is impressive."
The language that had been spoken seemed odd. It was as if it were some sort of Germanic and Latin mixture. However, as I heard the words leave his lips, it was as if they were automatically translated into the language I had been most aware of. Walking in, it was the same man from before my consciousness faded. That burly man. Though, this time I could get a good look at him. He wore simple clothing that suggested a modest lifestyle if not a bit grungy. His skin wasn't like mine, it was a pale blue and he sported black hair. His eyes were also nothing too special, actually being more similar to the eyes I had been used to seeing.
What did they look like again?
"Your mother is resting. She's lucky- as are you."
"Now are you going to sit? Or am I going to have to make you?"
In his hand had been a bowl of sorts with some sort of utensil sticking out of it. Food. That's what it probably had been. Logic and reasoning again slipped from my mind as I sat down and held my hands out as if demanding the food. I couldn't see my gaze yet I just knew I had been making quite an aggressive face. However, he complied. He handed me the bowl and immediately, I scarfed it all down. It was a sort of mush, yellow and pasty, and yet, it was delicious.
The mush coated my tongue with its rich and creamy texture, a flavor only comparable to a sort of porridge that had been properly cooked thoroughly with some semblance of care. It managed to taste iron out of my mouth in one fell swoop. And before I knew it, I had finished the whole bowl.
Wiping my mouth, I held the bowl up to him, feeling my face unwillingly lessen in tension.
"Thank...you."
My own words were in my native language, its name eluding my recollection. However, he seemed to understand. And maybe even be a little surprised. He nodded and took the bowl, scratching the side of his face.
"Say kid...do you know how old you are?"
"...No."
It was the truth to say that, right? While I knew my name had been Ryota Kurogane, given to me when I looked less like a monster, I knew deep within me that I had been "freshly born". I couldn't even come up with an idea of how that worked and yet, it did.
His face scrunched up, it was obvious he was coming up with some sort of conclusion. It didn't particularly matter to me though.
"Eh...doesn't matter. You're young enough to still shit on yourself."
My face flushed, feeling the heat in my cheeks rise. Damn, this old asshole...
"Anyway...About your mother...She won't be waking up for a little bit."
"But, you're up now. So you'll be helping me out— as payment for hosting you two."
The concept of giving him payment for his hospitality wasn't foreign to my confused mind. However, I didn't have any "money" to give him.
"What do you want?"
My little voice, foreign and new to me, spoke out. Though, in response, his face showed genuine curiosity.
"Able to understand what that means huh? I like you. Come on, get up and follow me. Don't be slow."
He had fed me and judging from the clothes I had been wearing, he had gone out of pocket to get me clothes that fit. So, I got up promptly. I owed him a little bit, right? Following behind him closely, I nearly clung to his leg. Everything around was still so "fresh" to me. Even with my ability to walk and talk, I still felt like a "baby".
Maybe he noticed my apprehension and, out of kindness, slowed down. But whatever he did allowed me to grab onto his pants leg and keep up, following behind him as he walked down a pair of stairs, leading me to the floor below where we had been. And despite my willingness to follow, I was still taken aback by what I had seen.
* CHATTER — CLANK — CHATTER *
There were all sorts of people and every one of them had features that made them drastically different from the typical body types and attributes that I had remembered. Or at least, I thought I remembered. There were also other parts of them that I knew of. Armor, weapons, even alcohol, and good meals. This was some sort of...bar...No, in this sort of setting, it was a tavern. The man that led me down had taken me behind to the back, into the kitchen. Kicking over a stool toward me, he pointed toward it, smirking a bit.
"You'll be washing some dishes for me, kid. I've been needing a little helper."
"Dishes? Damn it..."
For some reason, the idea of sitting around washing dishes after seeing all sorts of interesting things in just the room over had me agitated. It even made me curse. Something I didn't fully understand but felt was normal. And maybe he thought it was normal too, considering he chuckled hearing me speak.
"You seem to understand then. I've got a place to run so don't go screwing up."
My face tightened in agitation yet I stepped up, reading to wash. I did eat his food...
"If you need help, just call for Ragnor. I'll get to you when I can. Now get to work, kid."
Was that his name? 'Ragnor'? It was an interesting one. It was like some sort of medieval knight's name that came from an underbelly family with no real status. And yet, it had a warm feeling to it— the way he said it anyway.
"Ok...Ragnor."
Looking at where the dishes had been, it looked very familiar. A metal object sticking up over a basin of dirty dishes. This was a sink, right? That's what I had thought at the moment anyway. Reaching forward, my tiny body nearly tipping into the basin, I turned on what could only be a faucet, and just as I had thought, water came out.
"Water piping..."
My brain once again began to whirl around. This was all too weird. Most of everything was unfamiliar to me, I could feel it in my very being. And yet, so much felt natural. Even the idea of knowing I had been a newborn felt weird. And yet, it's natural to know. But why?
My mind swayed and I constantly thought about it all while my infantile hands scrubbed away at dishes.
CHAPTER 2 END