There's nothing quite like being a baby with the mind of an adult.

I would know. I'd already lived through it once, after all.

There's an implied sense of complete vulnerability and utter fragility, making it feel as if even the slightest of bumps and hurts would genuinely be the end of me.

Overall, becoming an ugly little flesh potato capable only of crying, screaming, and pooping itself was not an experience that I could even remotely call 'enjoyable'.

Nonetheless, it was a familiar one.

"Drink." My new father stiffly said as he inexpertly tried to shove the milk bottle into my mouth, holding me in the crook of his elbow so that my head rested against his shoulder.

I blinked up at him innocently and babbled out nonsensical baby noises.

I watched with more than a little amusement as his shoulders slumped before letting out a sigh that I suspected parents everywhere, be they in my first, second, or this world, would all know far too intimately.

It wasn't like I was unsympathetic to him. I did feel bad for causing him grief, but at the same time I really didn't know what else to do.

I'd learned rather quickly in my second life that trying to act too mature was both pointless and dangerous. For one, the body influenced the mind, as my second puberty had caused, much to my chagrin.

And for two, well, the nail that sticks out gets hammered down. Let's just say there was a reason I hadn't had many friends- or any at all, really- in my second life and leave it at that.

"Drink, Eri." My father repeated insistently, breaking me out of my thoughts. Obliging him, I latched my lips around the bottle.

"Oh, thank the Heavens…" He breathed in relief, settling himself on a nearby chair as he waited for me to finish. Luckily for him, it didn't take me all that long to do so.

As my lips detached from the bottle, I could feel myself already starting to doze off, my childish body demanding me to sleep.

I didn't fight it. I knew from experience that trying to force myself to stay awake during babyhood was a seriously bad idea, and I had absolutely no intentions of repeating my foolishness once more.

Although, for all my claims of being an experienced reincarnator, the truth was that in this life, there was a difference compared to my previous ones that I genuinely didn't quite know how to handle.

This time, as the man above me awkwardly yet gently tucked me away into a large and luxuriously soft crib, looking down at me for a long moment with his differently colored blue and red eyes, I had a father.

I had a family, small as it was.

It was something I was still coming to terms with, I'll admit. In both of my previous lives, I'd been an orphan, and while that wasn't something I was ashamed of or anything, it was still a difference that I didn't quite know how to reconcile with.

"Good night, daughter." My father said, his words causing me to blink at him drowsily. Giving me a firm nod that I honestly wasn't quite sure the meaning of, he then proceeded to turn on his heel and march off, his fancy silk robes swishing at the motion.

... Right. That was yet another thing that I wasn't quite sure what to make of: my sudden gender switch.

Alas, that was a worry for another day as my sleepiness finally got the best of me only a few moments after that thought, surrendering me to the warm embrace of sleep.

---

"And what exactly do you think you're doing, princess?" A voice abruptly said from behind me, causing me to let out a surprised 'eep' as I jumped up and spun around, coming face-to-face with the interloper.

Said interloper, an older middle-aged man whose face had long since begun wrinkling, looked down at me with a quirked eyebrow, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Uhh..." I waffled guiltily, eyes darting all over the place as I tried to find some way to escape, only to find none. "I was just, uhh, umm... I was..." I trailed off, looking down at the little cookie in my hands.

An idea came to me, and without even thinking about it, I shoved the delicious little treat into my mouth and swallowed it whole. If I ate it, then he couldn't confiscate it! It was a perfect plan!

It... Sort of worked? I mean, I only choked a little bit, and a quick and decisive pat on the back from the man in front of me was enough for me to be able to breathe again, so overall, I'd say it was a complete success!

"Princess, you already ate your lunch." The man sighed, rubbing his brows as he looked down at me with a helpless expression. "If you were still hungry, you could have just asked. You don't need to come to the kitchen to steal food like a peasant."

I shuffled in place, looking at the ground guiltily. "Sorry, Elder Johan," I murmured, refusing to meet my assigned bodyguard's eyes.

Elder Johan merely smiled as he crouched down in front of me. "It's fine, princess, it's fine. Just remember that for next time, and it'll be fine." He advised, giving me a pat on the head that I quickly batted away with a huff, an act that earned me a laugh from him.

Rising back to his feet, he resumed speaking. "Regardless, your father calls, princess. Come, I shall escort you to his chambers."

I perked up at his words. My dad was almost always completely busy during the day, so it was quite rare for me to see him outside of our time together in the mornings and late evenings. "Ok!" I said eagerly, bobbing my head up and down.

The Elder nodded before turning and walking off, beckoning for me to follow, something which I did without hesitation, my tiny legs having to work frantically to keep up with the much longer strides of the adult before me.

And as we walked, I couldn't help but reminisce a bit.

I was three years old now, with my birthday having passed only a week before today. It hadn't been all that grand of an affair, with the only real celebration that we'd done consisting of a little 'party' between myself and my father.

There had been plenty of cake, and despite it having been small and overall unexciting, I'd still enjoyed it.

Beyond that, though, my life had been overall unexciting. Not that that was a bad thing, of course, and it wasn't like this life hadn't come with its own perks.

For one, to say that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth would be an understatement. I lived in a mansion that, even after three years of living in it (although with only half of that time consisting of me being able to reliably move around), I still hadn't fully explored. Hells, my room alone was insanely large, with a bed so large that it was the size of a normal room and filled to the brim with all manners of plushies, pillows, and other knick-knacks.

I had a bathroom with a full spa and hot pool, a magical trampoline that ensured I couldn't hurt myself even if I wanted to, children's books that read themselves aloud if I tapped them correctly, and all other manners of amenities both mundane and magical.

Beyond even that, if there was something I wanted, my father would easily get it for me as long as it was, in his own words, 'reasonable'.

What that word meant to that man was something I still didn't understand. He was fine with providing me with a pair of dolls that could play tag with me, and yet a pair of mundane toy swords was too much for me?

I shook my head and had to actively stop myself from sighing. I liked my dad, I really did. Sure, he was a bit stiff and formal, and could only be with me for a relatively small portion of the day, but those were small potatoes in the grand scheme of things. He did provide everything I could have ever wanted, after all.

A hand abruptly landed on my head, causing me to come to a sudden halt. Blinking in confusion, I tilted my head back so that I could stare up at Elder Johan, who quirked his eyebrow in amusement at my look. "We're here, princess." He said, inclining his head toward the very fancy wooden door inlaid with gold and jade before us.

Huh. So we were.

"Thank you, Elder!" I beamed up at him before pushing his hand off of me and skipping off toward the door, poking it once and watching as it dissolved into mist, before then continuing to skip inside the now-revealed room, ignoring the door as it reformed behind me.

"Hi, daddy!" I said happily, giving him a certified megawatt-level smile. "What's up?"

"Daughter." My father responded coolly as he looked up from where he'd been scribbling away on some sort of scroll. With a flick of his hand, the piles of scrolls, papers, and tablets on his desk as well as the pen in his hand all vanished, leaving everything all neat and clear.

Then, his eyes met mine.

If I had to give my honest opinion, my father looked exactly how I'd always imagined a cultivator looked like despite knowing rather well that they came in many forms and shapes, and that their physical appearance rarely reflected their status and power.

He looked young, no older than twenty-five or thirty years old despite me knowing for a fact he was significantly older than that, although the specifics of it escaped me.

He also had incredibly silky and long black hair that reached all the way down to his knees, and despite him never once wearing any form of hair ties, I'd never seen it get dirty even once.

His face was all sharp lines and rigid edges, so much so that it could almost be called hawk-like, a term only further reinforced by the fact that he had only two expressions: blank and severe, with only the occasional warm look that I'm pretty sure was exclusive to me and me alone.

More striking, however, were his eyes. They were a pair of mismatched blue and red orbs, his left colored like fire and his right like ice.

My quick examination of his features was abruptly cut short as he spoke. "Here, you will refer to me as Father, and you will speak with the proper decorum. This is a formal setting." He said sternly, resting his hands over one another before him even as his back stood ramrod straight, his eyes holding mine for several long seconds.

I frowned, feeling myself deflate from the tone of his words. "Oh. Sorry." I said, feeling a bit chastised as I forced myself to stand straight and cough into my fist. "My apologies, father. What do you desire from me?" I said seriously.

He gave me an approving nod, an action which had me struggling to not smile dumbly. "Good." He said, his voice warmer as his expression relaxed. "There is an important manner that has been brought to my attention, and it is one that I desire to ask your opinion on."

I forced myself not to perk up. Father never asked for my opinion on anything- not that I'd expect him to, given I was only, you know, three years old- so for him to do so probably meant good things!

"I understand, Father. What's the situation?" I nonetheless politely asked.

"Do not say ‘what's’. Say 'what is' instead." He corrected immediately, "’What's’ implies a level of familiarity that is not appropriate when speaking to your superiors."

I could feel my eye twitch in irritation, but I repeated myself with the correction included, causing him to nod. "Better." He hummed approvingly. "Now, as I was saying. It has come to my attention that you have not yet had the opportunity to socialize with your peers, and that a lack of such interactions risks leading to stunted growth."

He frowned. "This is unacceptable, but simultaneously, it would be counterproductive to force you to socialize with those you care not for." He leaned forward, his eyes meeting mine. "Thus, I ask you this, daughter. What manner of peer would you be interested in interacting with?"

... Huh. He was concerned because I wasn't making friends? I mean, I didn't make any in my previous life, but, I mean, I was only three years old in this one...

I wasn't quite sure whether to laugh or be offended, honestly.