A month passed by. Eventually, I came to terms with the fact that I was reincarnated. No, I was forced to come to terms with that fact.

No matter how hard I tried to deny it, no matter how much I closed my eyes, the reality that I was reborn as a baby didn't change.

Even if it was ridiculous. After all, what kind of person was reborn with all of their memories intact?

...No. That was wrong. My memories weren't intact. At the beginning, I could remember everything. But as time passed, more and more of my memories were starting to fade.

Not everything. I still remembered random trivia, how to count, various bits of knowledge... but memories about my past life were starting to disappear.

Who I was. What my family was like. The life that I had been living up to this point...

I still remembered the broad strokes. I still clearly remembered my regrets. How I was held out as a genius since I was young and never lived up to that. How I died with nothing but regrets on how I never once made my parents proud. How my father finally told me how proud he was... but was forced to do it on my death bed without me able to reply and apologize.

I knew it for a fact. I could never forget those things.

But everything else was beginning to fade.

I remembered reading about something in the past that knowledge was built up of semantic memories. And that semantic memories were stored in a separate place from the episodic memories that made up life experience and what we usually called 'memory.'

Was that why? Semantic memories were more automatic and episodic memories were active.

Now I wasn't a very religious person, but it seemed like 'knowledge' persisted across my life and death while 'memories' were scrubbed away. Maybe since the 'soul' was a record of everything you experienced? But then why were my past life's memories being slowly erased while my knowledge wasn't?

And why was I still aware of the fact that I *had* a past life in the first place?

I didn't think I was very special... No. I knew I wasn't special. My past life was proof of that.

In that case... I was just lucky. Somehow or another, I was lucky enough to keep my memories... Or at least, part of them after I died.

Maybe it was good fortune due to my sincere attempts near the end of my life to make up for my past mistakes. Maybe it was because someone prayed for me in the afterlife.

I didn't know. But I knew that this was my reality.

I had another lease on life... and I had another chance.

So cheer up! Have fun! Enjoy being a kid again!

...That was what I tried to tell myself. But I just couldn't.

No matter how hard I tried to cheer myself up and act like a normal baby... No matter how much I tried to just live in the moment and forget the past, I couldn't.

Thankfully, since I was a baby I wasn't expected to do much other than eat, sleep, and repeat.

...I had to admit that it was more than a bit awkward being breastfed though. While not my first time seeing an attractive woman's breast, it was definitely my first having it shoved in my face and sucking on it.

Good thing that hormones weren't a thing yet. Though the mental fact that the woman was definitely my new mom helped me get through the weird bit.

A little.

It was still freaking weird. But that was my life now.

And speaking of my life, since I was reborn, I realized a few things.

First, my new parents were young. Younger than I had been when I died, at least. From their looks, they seemed to be in their early twenties at the latest. I would probably put them more towards the late teens though.

Whatever the case, I was the first child of a loveydovey newlywed couple.

Second, it looked like I was reincarnated into the past. The clothes that my parents and the maid wore had more in common with a Renaissance fair or cosplay than modern casual wear. Also, the house... what little I could see of it from being carried around, at least, looked to be a rustic wooden house like in the old Victorian days. Like something from Pride and Prejudice.

Third... Everyone was talking in a weird language that was almost like English, but a bit distorted. Or maybe they were actually talking in English but my baby brain just couldn't process the words yet.

Probably that.

Fourth, and most important of all... I was bored.

Was this why babies cried so much? And why they always looked around the room with wide eyes?

It would explain a lot...

What I wouldn't do to have my body listen to me again and let me walk around...

-LIV-

Another month passed. And with it, another month of the usual life for a baby.

My body wasn't cooperating with me. While I could flail my limbs around, I didn't have any coordination or ability to move on my own. Because of that, I spent most of my time lying on my back in a crib or carried around by my mom or the maid.

I *did* have control of my mouth though. A little at least. So, since I was bored, I started making random sounds. Gurgling, bubbles, raspberries... You couldn't do much without any teeth. But something magical was happening with that.

Somehow, the more I did that, the more it felt like my brain was linking up my thoughts to the words I was hearing. And because of that, I felt like I could just about understand what my parents were saying.

Just about.

But I couldn't, and that was seriously frustrating.

Honestly. It was like listening to a video while you were on the verge of falling asleep. Or maybe a college lecture after an all-nighter while you tried to keep yourself from nodding off.

On the bright side... No. That was a lie. There was no bright side. But there was something interesting.

Since I was somehow fully conscious as a baby, I was fully aware of the weird changes that were happening to my body as I grew. Like, I could *feel* how my limbs were growing steadier with every passing day. How my will and my movements were slowly lining up.

And I could even feel how the blood flowed through my veins as my tiny heart pumped it throughout my body.

...And how I could weirdly control that a bit. Not much. It was just like how you could hold your breath for a little while. For some reason, I could make my blood 'wiggle' a bit in my veins and even stop moving for a little while.

It was probably dangerous and unhealthy, but I was bored. And I had already died once, so... why the hell not, right?

Fortunately, all it did to me was make me tired and fall asleep from exhaustion. So all in all... pretty much just a normal baby life.

But seriously. Could all babies do this? No wonder so many randomly dropped dead...