Paradigm

It’s been six months since I was reborn into this world—or, to be more precise, since that strange ceremony took place. In other words, I’m currently just a little over six months old. Still very young, of course, but my mind is far more mature than this tiny body might suggest.

Over the past six months, I’ve gradually begun piecing together fragments of information about the world I now inhabit. Admittedly, the information I’ve gathered so far is still rather shallow—basic introductions, really. But for someone my age or at least, this body’s age—it’s already quite an achievement.

Thankfully, all the fantasy stories and books I consumed in my previous life have proven to be a great asset. Thanks to them, I’ve been able to adjust relatively quickly to the structure of this new world. That said, my room for exploration remains extremely limited. I haven’t even stepped outside the palace where I currently reside, not even once.

Even so, I haven’t given up. Over the past month, I’ve started reading the books I found in my bedroom. My reading is slow and stumbling, but I’ve devoured them one by one. My comprehension is far from perfect, but at least there’s progress.

If I had to compare it, my language ability in this world resembles my English skills from before. I can understand the content in paragraphs and general context, but if I’m asked to define each word or construct grammatically correct sentences from scratch, I still struggle quite a bit.

But therein lies the key—comprehension. As long as you can grasp the context and intention behind what you're reading, the learning process becomes far more efficient.

Rather than wasting too much time trying to memorize an overly complicated and confusing writing system, I figured it was better to first gather information using the rough understanding I already had, even if it was limited. After all, even a small bit of comprehension can help broaden my mental horizons.

Besides, reading and writing isn’t the only form of verbal communication I can rely on in a situation like this. In fact, at this tiny age, it actually makes more sense to focus on maximizing nonverbal communication instead.

The reason is simple; no matter how clearly I piece together my thoughts, adults will never truly understand what I’m trying to say. Even if, in my head, the sentence is already perfectly formed. The moment those words come out of this baby mouth, the result always ends up wildly different from what I intended.

Take the other day, for example.

One of the maids was cleaning my room. When she stepped closer to the crib where I was lying, I tried to ask her to hand me a book sitting on the table. In my mind, I had already composed the sentence—polite and respectful.

“Excuse me, Miss. Could you please pass me the book on the table?” That’s how I imagined myself saying it.

But her actual response?

“M-My apologies, young master… b-but my breasts can’t produce milk…” she stammered, her face flushing bright red, eyes wide with panic.

I mean, hey, who wants your breasts?! God, do all adults automatically assume that every noise a baby makes means either "I want milk" or "Change my diaper"? Sure, statistically, they’re probably right. But come on.

From that incident, I began to realize something important. Being an adult soul trapped in a baby’s body isn’t just about patience, it’s about strategy. You have to keep trying, improvising, and figuring out the most effective ways to communicate. You test out different approaches until your conversation partner finally understands what you’re trying to say.

Instead of conveying things directly with full, coherent sentences, the only option available to me was to translate my intentions or feelings into a series of signals.

These signals would then be interpreted through their cognitive processes—a process in which the adult mind attempts to decode the cues I present in order to grasp the message I actually mean to send.

It might sound tedious, but for a body this small, there’s really no other way.

So, I tried the most logical approach given the situation. I picked up one of the small toys lying on the bed, then tossed it in the direction of the book on the table. I managed to get the maid to glance toward the object I had thrown, then trace its landing point, and finally realize what I was pointing her toward.

“Y-You want this book, sir?” she asked hesitantly. She picked up the book I meant and held it up for me to see.

Once she did, I simply gave her a small nod. She immediately brought the book over and handed it to me.

Simple and efficient, isn’t it?

Communication doesn’t always require words. What truly matters is the ability to read a situation carefully and apply that understanding within the right context.

From this, I also began to realize that many of the fantasy books I used to read never truly applied logic in a meaningful way.

Especially when they depict a baby suddenly chanting spells and unleashing powerful magic capable of defeating dragons, that's just absurd. Completely unrealistic.

…

From time to time, I still find myself drifting into thoughts about the people I left behind in my previous life.

By now, they should be starting to forget. The mourning period should have long passed. Perhaps, little by little, they’ve begun to accept the fact that I’m gone.

And yet, if there are still a few who haven’t truly let me go—perhaps my parents, or maybe a few close relatives who still carry the weight of loss—I can’t help but wish I could return.

Just to let them know that I’m doing fine here...

I want to tell them that I now live a life full of privileges I never had before—that I’m now handsome, well-off, and wealthy.

I mean, I no longer carry the flaws that once filled me with so much disappointment I even dared to curse Him. If they knew I was living in comfort now, perhaps their hearts would feel just a bit more at peace.

But still, I often wonder to myself...

Why was I reborn as someone completely different from who I used to be? And why in a world so utterly unlike the one I knew? Is this some form of divine redemption for the suffering I once endured?

If so, I can’t help but feel… it wasn’t necessary.

I mean, for someone who once grew so tired of life and was then granted a second chance… I was actually holding onto His promise—the promise that those who endure with patience and faith, despite their pain, would one day be rewarded with a place of honor in paradise.

But perhaps… Was it because I once considered ending my life, that heaven is no longer meant for me? Could that be the reason? I honestly don’t know.

All I know is that, according to the teachings I once believed in, those who die will pass into the barzakh—a waiting realm before the true judgment, where one’s deeds and sins are weighed, and their final fate is decided; heaven or hell.

…

A servant who usually cleaned my room slowly slid the door open and stepped inside. The faint sound of the door dragging was followed by her footsteps approaching my bed.

“Y-Young Master, you're still reading?” she asked gently, stopping right in front of me. “Come now, it’s time for dinner—Madam is waiting in the main hall.”

She then reached out, slipping her arms beneath my tiny frame, and gently lifted me into her embrace.

Without much further ado, she carried me out of the room, heading toward the main dining hall at the center of the palace. The soft flicker of candlelight bathed the room in a warm, familiar glow. The scent of soup and spices lingered faintly in the air as we drew near.

There, around six people were already seated at the long dining table. Among them, of course, were my father—the King—sitting in the grandest chair, and my mother—the Queen—gracefully seated beside him.

The other four looked somewhat familiar, though I hadn’t quite figured out who they were. But there was one face I recognized instantly; an uncle with a thick beard, the same one who had kissed my cheek during the ceremony—the uncle with breath that smelled like charcoal. A few servants stood at the edges of the room, busy preparing and arranging the dinner dishes.

That uncle rose from his chair the moment he saw me enter. With an overly enthusiastic grin, he greeted me as if welcoming his most beloved child.

“There he is—our handsome little prince! Just woke up, didn’t you?” he exclaimed, his wide smile showing off large teeth and a beard that wobbled with every word.

Without asking and without the slightest hint of guilt, he snatched me away from the servant’s arms. Lifting me high into the air, he spun himself around in place—and then, in one swift motion, brought his face close to my cheek.

Whoa, whoa... Uncle, please don’t...

And just as I feared, he once again landed a kiss with a vacuum cleaner suction effect on my cheek, complete with the characteristic charcoal aroma of his breath.

Everyone in the room burst into laughter at the sight, from the nobles of my family to the servants standing along the walls.

Their laughter rang out, flowing so naturally, as if there were no barriers of status or role. What began as a calm dinner transformed into a lively gathering filled with jokes—turning the evening into a small stage of shared joy.

Amidst the commotion, I could feel a genuine warmth. There was a sense of love that radiated so sincerely in the way they looked at and treated one another. I couldn’t find even a hint of falseness behind their smiles. It seemed they truly understood how to cherish love, and how to share it as a happiness meant to be enjoyed together.

For a moment, I fell silent, savoring that fleeting second as I looked around at the faces near me. In the midst of laughter and the comforting aroma of warm food, I once again felt deeply grateful to have been born into a family like this. A blessing I never imagined I’d receive, especially after a former life that was… well, far from anything resembling happiness.

A thought briefly crossed my mind…

Maybe this is exactly why God chose to reincarnate me. Not merely as a form of “redemption” for the past, but as a chance to experience a moment I never once had in the life before.

But whatever the reason, whatever Your decision may be…

I want to say it again, with full awareness and sincerity; thank You. For everything You’ve written into my path, and for this new life I now walk upon. I place it all back in Your hands, O Weaver of life’s grand design.

Because now, for the first time in a long time…

I no longer feel alone.