Episode 2
“Cough…”
A terrible death was right on top of me. Everything around me seemed to go quiet.
‘Oh — so this is death,’ I thought, and I let my body go limp.
I’m done. I want to die now.’
Just as I was about to sink into the dark and give up, someone grabbed the back of my neck roughly and hauled me up.
“Gasp!”
I breathed in like a newborn dragged screaming into the world — everything felt raw and heavy, I could barely move my fingers, and my eyes wouldn’t open.
“Sob… sniff….”
A crying sound drifted in, and then clearer sobs followed.
“Ranya, stop crying. Didn’t I always tell you how honored you’d be to go to such a noble family?”
“But—sniff—Ranya doesn’t want to leave Teacher… waaaa!”
“Ranya, you’re going to be a wonderful lady.”
A child’s muffled sobs and a woman’s gentle voice overlapped. As soon as my sticky, half-closed eyes registered the noise, I opened them wide.
“Alright, let’s go out for now.”
“Yes—sniff.”
The voices faded, and a ceiling I didn’t recognize came into view.
‘What the… I died, didn’t I?’
Yeah — I had died down in that moldy cellar where I couldn’t escape. I thought for sure that was the end.
As the weirdness hit me, I bolted upright from where I lay. My entire body ached like I’d been beaten.
‘But I thought dying meant no pain…’
Yet every ache felt painfully real.
I had died — I was sure of it — so what the heck was this?
“Ranya?”
Ranya was one of the kids from the orphanage I’d been to years ago — pretty, clever, favored by the nuns, and adopted as the foster daughter of a baron and his wife. I’d heard she was later treated worse when the couple had a biological child.
Also — why is my vantage point so low?’
I glanced down and saw a small hand neatly resting on my knee.
‘…My hands are tiny?’
I freaked and looked at the window; my reflection was blurry but unmistakable: a very tiny child sat there with a pale, shocked face.
So… I had become small.
“Why…?”
Why had I suddenly become younger?!
Everything came rushing back then — the memories that had been erased during long years of experiments flooded in.
This was the convent-run orphanage — the place that had sold me to that hellish lab.
‘I’m back…?’
I bit my lip and stared at the small reflection in the glass.
“…I really did shrink.”
I looked about ten years old.
‘I used to look like this before.’
As an adult, the experiments had melted my skin and I always smelled like rot. But now — everything was different.
My hair was light green and flowed down to my waist; my skin was pure white; my ash-gray glassy eyes were intact. I was thin and bony, but my face was round and cute.
I kept poking my cheek, then clenched my fists.
‘Did I actually go back to the past?
Time rewinding? Was this even possible? Did I get lucky?
My legs went weak and I flopped down.
‘Am I finally free?’
Would I no longer have to live in that twisted lab?
“Ha, haha….”
Maybe this was a gift. A warm thrill bubbled up, I tried to swallow my laugh.
Then I noticed something odd under the loose child-sized robe — my arm had a dirty, soot-like smudge.
‘Huh?’
A chill ran down my spine. I lifted the sleeve slowly.
Under the fabric, a small arm was covered in weird, ancient-looking black script — as if tattooed or branded.
I yanked my sleeve down, pale-faced.
‘What is this…!?’
This was a remnant of the experiments — one of the marks that had been used in the scientist’s ritual to try to bind his dead wife’s soul to a vessel.
“Someone who cares for a filthy, stinking child like you would only be me,” he’d said.
“You’d be beaten to death in the street without me.”
“That’s why I take care of you.”
He said things like that, and I believed him. I thought if I helped him, I would be loved.
But when I’d worn out my use, the man I’d called “father” threw me away without a second thought.
“Among the kids I bought from that orphanage, only you survived. I thought you might be a decent vessel…”
that’s what he said as he discarded me.
I grabbed my left arm where the grotesque markings were and squeezed until it hurt.
‘Of all the things to remember… why this?’
These marks creep across my body over time and eventually steal my life.
“Damn it…!”
Tears blurred my vision. This rotten luck — I’d just hoped to live normally, but that was obviously too much to ask.
‘If I’m back in time… that means he must still be alive too, right?’
That monster who did those experiments.
Fine. If I get back, I’ll wreck his lab and his life.’
He thought only I would die? Not this time. If I had to die, I’d take him with me.
“First — earn their trust and get recommendation letters.”
This orphanage was famous in the Empire: a convent-run home with government recognition. Kids who did well in classes often got adopted by nobles or rich merchants, or received noble sponsorship to stay in the convent or go to the academy. Kids who didn’t do well… vanished one day. People would only ever say they’d been adopted.
‘They probably ended up in labs like I did.’
Same for me and the friends whose names I’d already forgotten.
So the plan was simple:
‘Get good grades, get adopted by a decent merchant family or secure a noble sponsor,’ then build a foundation and get revenge.
Clench! I smacked my cheeks hard with both palms. My eyes shone in the window.
‘The foolish obedient me is gone.’
I took a deep breath and decided to focus on survival.
Just don’t let him get his hands on me again. What are the odds “again” would happen?’
I shouldn’t have underestimated myself — when I returned to the past I turned out to be kind of a genius, and “what are the odds” always bites you.
SFX: chopping, clattering, banging in the kitchen.
The kitchen kids were glued to the source of the noise, wide-eyed.
Tap. Slap. Bang. The sounds stopped. A small face popped up between stacks of ingredient bins.
“Head cook — I chopped the onions and carrots, portioned them, labeled the dates, and finished the washing. Please check.”
“Oh — nice. Clean work…”
It really was clean — the dishes and tubs spotless; the onions and carrots neatly processed.
“Thanks. May I go organize the food storage now?”
“Ah, sure.”
“Okay!”
Less than thirty minutes later the child returned.
“I’ve organized the storeroom too. Please check.”
‘Already?!’
The head cook, Rohan, gaped.
“…Uh. Right. No problem. You must’ve worked hard.”
“Yeah. I wanted to be a good student for the teachers.”
Anisha beamed like sunlight. Her smile softened the harsh head cook’s face.
“Ahem. You can go then — your tasks are done.”
The cook still couldn’t quite believe it as he checked the kitchen over. The other children assigned to the kitchen watched enviously — they hadn’t finished.
‘This kid only started kitchen work recently… How did she improve this fast?’
The head cook was one of the folks scoring the kids. Only three months before, Anisha had been low-ranked in everything: history, arithmetic, cooking, manners, embroidery… everything. How could she have changed so quickly?
The teachers had all been paying attention to her these past three months — she was getting noticed.
“Ah, I’m tired.” Anisha patted her shoulder as she walked out of the kitchen.
“Scores are improving smoothly,” she thought. In three months, the teachers’ interest in her had grown.
All the experience of sucking up to a cranky scientist in my previous life came in handy here. Plus, I’d already learned most of the orphanage’s curriculum before so these chores weren’t hard.
Shangri-La Orphanage had its little social system: invisible classes. Kids adopted by nobles sat in one group, those sponsored by nobles formed another, and then the rest. Normally three tiers, and even the sponsored kids had rank differences depending on which noble backed them.
Thud.
“Ah — sorry.”
“You’re filthy. Trash….”
A boy of around fifteen shoved past and cursed, scowling.
“Sorry? That’s it? You think you can just say sorry after almost killing someone? Who do you think you are, trash? You don’t deserve to talk to me.”
That was pre-rewind me. Not now. I wouldn’t bow to anyone.
“Yeah, that’s what I think.”
Anisha answered with a bright, innocent smile that could overturn people’s hearts.
