A cry echoes between the walls, and a mother's sob drowns out a father's laughter.
Hoku opens his eyes once more.
He watches everything happening around him. The tears stop. He takes a deep breath. Looks around, confused, amazed.
In front of him, a massive man, with a colossal build, smiles tenderly. To his left, a woman is sweating, crying… but also laughing?
She has straight, white hair with gray undertones, emerald eyes, and a pearl-like smile. Her fine, delicate skin is now stained with tears and exhaustion. Beside her, the man —over two meters tall— watches her with an expression of pride and emotion. His sharp features and hands covered in calluses and scratches reflect a hard life, but one lived with dignity.
He kisses the woman, and they begin to speak, though Hoku doesn't understand a single word.
"&$&$&," says the man, visibly happy, as he looks at the baby.
"#&#&#&#," the woman holds him against her chest.
"&$&$&$$&," the man murmurs to his partner with a calm smile.
"$#$#$#$#, Hoku," the woman whispers, gazing at the child with tenderness.
Hoku feels strange.
Are these… his parents? It's odd to have parents, he thinks.
He tries to lift an arm. But sleep overcomes him.
A child needs to rest.
Days passed, one after another.
Hoku, with the memory of his past life still fresh, tried to speak… but his vocal cords weren't ready. He tried to walk… but he couldn't even stand.
His mother never let him out of her sight. He was either on her chest, in a crib, or lying on a bed. All he could do was eat when he was hungry… and relieve himself. The first few days were embarrassing. But remembering the starvation and hunger, the shame vanished as quickly as it came.
Life was perfect. He simply let himself be carried by it, grateful to the sky —or to whoever might be up there— for this second chance. He cried… but now out of happiness. He felt loved. Cared for. A child, at last, being a child.
Months went by, and Hoku was now strong enough to crawl on his own. Though he occasionally felt a gaze watching him, he began to explore the house again and again. Three rooms, a dining area, a bathroom. Nothing luxurious. But it was a happy home.
They had many visitors. Though he still didn't understand the language, he was starting to recognize a few words.
***
It's been three years since I arrived in this world.
Apparently, my mother's name is Yui, and my father's is Gaus. He's an adventurer; she's the town's accountant. They seem to be middle-upper class around here. I don't feel so watched anymore. I'm starting to learn more of the language, though it's still complex. At least I can walk steadily now.
A clumsy child walks with an unsteady gait. Gaus, hiding with his wife, watches him with a wide smile. When Hoku falls flat on his face, Gaus bursts out laughing. Yui, annoyed, rushes over to pick him up.
"My baby, you fell on the ground," Yui says, lifting Hoku with tenderness.
"Gaus, celebration time. Enjoy. Party. Yes." Yui looks at him with a mix of authority and affection.
"My love, yes…" Gaus sighs in happy resignation.
He lifts Yui, still holding Hoku in her arms, and carries them both to the bed. He tosses them onto it and starts tickling them, laughter and joyful screams filling the room.
That's how Hoku's days passed—between games, love, and hugs. His past… began to fade. Only this family remained. Only the present.
And he smiled. Beyond the tickles… he smiled for real.
***
Another four years passed.
It might seem short when written like this, but so many things happened I don't even know where to start. People think I'm a genius, though I don't believe it. I just have memories from another life. I now understand the language almost completely. In fact, I think I'm at the same level I was in Spanish… maybe even better.
I learned that this world is called Eusac, and that we live in the Kingdom of Nira, under the Tora monarchy. The current king is Hux Tora V, and he's said to be a benevolent ruler.
Our village is called Inxus. We're nearly 200 kilometers from the capital—pretty far. The language is called Uka. And it's as complex as Chinese: a tiny variation in spelling can completely change the meaning of a sentence. I still can't write. Calligraphy is reserved for nobles, and I'm just a commoner.
Luckily, the village chief is kind. He gave me books, and every two days a tutor comes to teach me more about this world. At my age, that's already unusual. My father's been pushing me harder lately—I don't know why. He says he's helping the blacksmith.
Oh, by the way: Mom is 32, and Dad is 36.
I feel happy. Happier than ever…
…or at least I was, until that day.
"Hoku, run! As fast as you can! Don't look back!" shouts Gaus, sweating, his face tense.
"You can do it, son! I believe in you!" Yui yells in desperation.
That day marked the beginning of his hell.
Training. That's right. His father had decided to turn him into a great warrior. And apparently, his mother was fully on board.
Right now, Hoku is running.
Ten full laps.
He collapses to the ground, exhausted, unable to take another step. He gasps for air. His lungs burn. His muscles scream.
And that… is only the first part of the training.
The second: swordsmanship.
His father forged him an iron sword, dull-edged, perfectly sized for his small frame. Gaus, on the other hand, trains with a wooden sword.
"Hoku, focus," he says firmly. "You can't lose yourself in thought during a fight. You have to flow."
The man charges at him, sword raised high toward the sky. He brings it down with force and speed, like a guillotine.
Hoku barely manages to raise his sword horizontally. He blocks the strike… but he's looking at the sky.
Too late.
Gaus sweeps his legs with a kick. Hoku hits the ground like a sack of stones.
"What did I tell you?" Gaus growls. "Don't block by instinct. Only block when it's necessary—when dodging is no longer an option. Remember: flow. Hit me the way I hit you!"
Hoku gets back up. He runs toward him. He lifts his iron sword—too large for a seven-year-old's arms—and delivers a downward strike.
But Gaus is kneeling. He doesn't move. He blocks with ease. Controls the metal sword without even trying, rotating his wrist. Dodges the attack as if it were air. And then, without leaving his spot, he throws a punch straight into Hoku's stomach.
Hoku hits the ground. Breathless.
"We're not leaving until you block properly," his father says, voice like stone.
*"I want to cry..."* Hoku thinks.
***
At the end of training, by dusk, Gaus carries him home. When they arrive, Hoku sees his mother holding a steaming meat pie in her hands.
He smiles. Eats with his family. And complains to his mother about how hard Dad is on him.
The next day, the training will be mental and reaction-based. Tests on cooking, sewing, and money management.
Hoku can't take it anymore. He just hopes it all ends soon.
***
But it doesn't end.
It only gets worse.
The older he gets, the harsher the training becomes. He's ten years old now. His body has changed: more robust, stronger. His mind too.
He attends the village school. But it's just for show—a place to worship the Kingdom and the stars. He doesn't care about politics. He'd rather train.
He never thought he'd say that.
His strength has increased so much that he can fight adults in hand-to-hand combat—or so he says.
But what shocks him the most isn't that…
It's what he learned recently: **magic exists**.
Yes. Dragons. Ogres. Creatures from fantasy. Real magic.
But there's a problem.
No one knows it. No one uses it. It's reserved only for the nobility—and sometimes, for special cases.
According to the books, to awaken magic you need a clean process. And for that… you need a **contract with a God**.
And he's just a commoner.
Hoku hasn't even seen magic, let alone a divine contract.
He sighs, frustrated.
He looks at his sword. With determination, he starts practicing against a hard log, similar to oak. He's already broken nearly ten swords training this way. And even though he feels he's improving… when he compares himself to those legends who can split mountains with a single strike, he loses heart.
For the rest of the day, he didn't want to train anymore. He went home, head down, and locked himself away to read.
His mother watched him, concerned. She slowly approached.
"Hoku, what's wrong? Why don't you want to practice today?" Yui asked, sitting beside him.
"It's nothing, mommy. It's just that… compared to the people who break mountains, my swordsmanship is trash."
Hoku buried his face in a pillow.
Yui smiled gently.
"Oh, sweetheart… why do you get so discouraged? Let me tell you a secret," she said, winking at him.
"What is it, Mom?" Hoku asked, turning his head to look at her, intrigued.
"They all started just like you. With weak swordsmanship. With a trembling sword."
"But… they have magic," he sighed.
"So what? Does that make them better than you?" Yui stroked his hair. "Most of the ones with magic are arrogant and cruel. You, on the other hand, are kind. You're strong in a different way."
She gently lifted him, placed him on her lap, and hugged him tightly.
"Thank you, Mom… I love you."
"Thank you, Hoku. For existing. I love you too."
***
And so, his happy life goes on.