But before I could think more about it, the sound of the door creaking open snapped me back to reality.
I looked toward the door and saw a man stepping in. He looked utterly exhausted, breathing heavily, his shoulders slumped as if he'd just sprinted through the night.
The moment the man's eyes met mine, he stopped in his tracks. The room fell quiet—so quiet, it felt like even the air was holding its breath.
The silence finally lifted when the woman beside me—my mother, if I was right—spoke in a calm, steady voice.
"What's the matter, honey? Are you just going to stand there? Don't you want to hold our son?"
Wait. She... just called me our son.
That pretty much confirms it—she's my mother. And I really have been reincarnated into some infant.
And… is he my father?
He's tall, with a refined build—neither overly muscular nor too lean. His long, dark hair is slicked back effortlessly, highlighting a sharp jawline and intense, shadowed eyes. And that dark… aura, giving him striking presence.
I don't know why he's wearing something that looks like medieval noble attire, but honestly? It suits him perfectly. He looks nothing short of outstanding.
And yeah… now that I've seen him, I can't even argue—if I end up looking anything like him, calling me a future ladies' man might actually be underselling it.
After what felt like an eternity, my father finally spoke. Yes… father. I guess it's time I start accepting this new life. From now on, I'll call them mother and father—because that's what they are now.
His voice trembled slightly, but every word was filled with awe. "Serenia… h-he's my son. My blood… my own flesh and blood."
I could see the overwhelming joy in his expression, and I felt it left him unable to say anything more, as he stood there in silence, completely absorbed in the moment, and the room slowly began to fall still.
While the atmosphere seemed to hold its breath, my mother rose from the bed with me in her arms and quietly walked over, stopping right in front of him to give him a better look at me.
Then, with a gentle smile—soft and warm like a quiet sunrise—she carefully shifted her arms, lifting me forward and offering me to him, her voice carrying a quiet trust and affection.
"Hold him, honey. He's been waiting for his father's warmth all this time."
My father reached out and took me gently, pulling me to his chest. A radiant smile lit up his face, the kind that said everything words couldn't. He held me close—quiet and still, as if the world outside that moment had disappeared. Then, as he brought me nearer, he kissed me—once… and just as he leaned in for another—
I protested with all the infant strength I could manage.
Alright, man… I get it. You're my father, and yeah, you're obviously overjoyed—I've pretty much come to terms with that. But as a guy, I'm not exactly into being smothered with kisses… especially not by another man. So chill out, okay? I'm not going anywhere.
Seeing my struggle to dodge any more kisses, my mother let out a soft chuckle and teased him, "Okay, my big baby, I think that's enough for today. He's not going anywhere."
Then, her voice softened just a little as she added, "And before anything else... I want you to give him a name."
"A name?" he laughed weakly, disbelief lacing his voice. "You mean... you haven't named him yet?"
My mother shook her head gently. "No. I wanted him to carry the name his father gave him—because no name I chose could ever mean as much as the one spoken from your lips."
The words left him speechless. He looked at her for a long moment, then slowly turned his gaze toward me. Leaning in a little closer, his eyes narrowed with curiosity. I couldn't tell if he noticed something unusual in me… or if he was just stunned again.
My question was answered when he finally spoke. "Wait a minute... his hair—it's... half and half?" he said in surprise.
"What, you just noticed now, honey?"
"Yeah, I was too focused on his cute little face," he admitted, still staring in awe. "But wow… half black and half white."
That was news to me too. Half black, half white? It actually sounds kind of cool. Like I carry both their hair colors—split right down the middle.
He pauses for a moment, eyes still fixed on my hair, then speaks up. "Now that I've seen him up close, I think I've come up with the perfect name for him."
Then, gently—almost like a whisper—he said,"...Nox."
My mother tilted her head slightly, her voice soft with curiosity. "Nox?"
He nodded, gaze never leaving me.
"The black in his hair… it's like the night sky. And the white—like moonlight, which itself is a reflection of the night time. That's why… Nox. A name born from the night itself—it suits him perfectly."
Hearing this, her eyes shimmered. "Nox Everhart... I love it."
I smiled inwardly. Nox, huh? Short, simple… and he actually put some thought into it.
Maybe this new life won't be so bad after all.
....
I must've been really tired earlier—and ended up falling asleep somewhere in the middle of my newly acknowledged parents' conversation. Now, though, I'm wide awake here in the middle of the night—because this infant body of mine is starving.
Even though my mother fed me not too long ago, here I am again—starving like I haven't eaten in days. And it's honestly frustrating how quickly this tiny body burns through everything.
But the worst part? I can't do anything about this hunger. At least not on my own.
But even as the hunger gnaws at me, my thoughts keep drifting back to the conversation I overheard before I passed out—where my father apologized for not being there when I was born. His voice was soft, almost shaken. Honest.
And my mother… she brushed it off with a gentle smile. Said it wasn't his fault. I was supposed to be born months later, but I came into the world early. She even mentioned that she had expected him to arrive a whole month later—yet he rushed back the moment he heard.
At the time, it sounded like a tender moment between two people in love.
But lying here now, those words keep echoing in my head—like I missed something hidden between them. And the more I recall, the more certain I become: something about it just doesn't sit right.
The way they were speaking… it was like I'd already been here, like I'd been born days ago. But the truth is, everything for me began last night—the moment I first saw either of them. I don't have a single memory from before that. I know a normal baby wouldn't remember anything—but I'm not just a baby. I'm still me—an adult with a full set of memories from my past life.
So if I don't remember anything… and if what they're saying is true, then—does that mean I might've taken someone else's place? Like there was another soul in this body before me?
If that's true… I don't want to believe it.
The idea that this life wasn't meant to be mine—it makes me sick. Or maybe… I'm just overthinking everything.
Like—even if I was born a few days ago, that doesn't necessarily mean there was another soul before me.
Maybe my soul had always been here from the start. It could've just been my memories that arrived late—not my existence.
Maybe that's simply how it works—the cost of reincarnation. You enter this life completely blank, without memory or awareness, until something deep within finally stirs. Something had to unlock… before I could remember who I really was.
I think that makes sense. And I really, truly hope that's the truth.
And if there's another explanation… I clearly can't ask about it in this body—or search for answers on my own. For now… I'll just have to wait.
But, one thing I can't wait on, though… is this hunger. It's killing me.
So I turned my head toward my mother, peacefully sleeping beside me, and felt a little guilty—waking up an angel like that
Still, this tiny body doesn't give me many options, and hunger was clearly winning. So, with all the strength my miniature limbs could muster, I grabbed one of her arms and gave it a determined little shake.
I even let out a few classic baby sounds.
"Aaah… Whaaa…"
Not exactly eloquent, but hey—it's the best I've got.
After a few minutes of struggling—my first real effort since being reborn—I finally got a reaction.
I let out another round of baby noises, just to make sure the message of "I'm starving" was loud and clear.
Eventually, she stirred, rubbing her eyes as she slowly sat up. The moment her gaze met mine, awareness of the situation seemed to click into place instantly.
Without wasting a second, she reached for me and gently lifted me into her arms. With practiced care, she adjusted her nightgown and brought me close to her chest.
Finally… relief.
The hunger that had been gnawing at me faded as I fed, wrapped in her warmth and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
"My sweet little baby Nox… Mama's awake now, so you don't have to hold back. Drink as much as you want," she whispered.
In that moment, I couldn't help but think—every time she speaks, it's like a melody. Soft and soothing, wrapping around me like a lullaby. Her voice calms me in a way I can't even explain.
And not just her—my father too. His warmth was just as comforting. Being near him, I felt safe… aside from when he started attacking me with kisses.
But other than that, he's incredible. Honestly, they both are. The way they love me—and love each other—it makes them feel like the most amazing people I've ever known.
But they're not just any people—they're my family now. And it feels like the kind of family I always dreamed of.
A real, happy, loving family—something I was never able to have in my past life.
In that that life…