'Where… am I?'
Takaha Kuro opened his eyes again. He didn't know how much time had passed. He was lying on the cold ground near a wall, like some abandoned piece of trash.
Above him, stars shimmered across a deep night sky. The silver moon hung like a solemn witness.
He tried to stand—but couldn't.
That's when he realized something was very wrong.
His body... was tiny. His limbs were weak and wobbly.He was—a baby.
"…You've gotta be kidding me."
So much for being reincarnated into a powerful adult hero. No cheat skills, no sword, no harem. Nope—hard mode right from the tutorial.
He was cold. He was hungry.And—though he hated to admit it—he kind of wanted to cry.
Being a baby sucks.
Just as despair began to creep in, he heard footsteps—rushed and urgent.
"Milady! Please stop running and come back with us!"
A woman's voice. Probably a maid or bodyguard.
"No way! There's nothing back home but suffocating expectations!"
That voice. Light, crisp, and full of spirit. A girl. Young, but strong-willed. Probably the "milady" they were chasing.
Kuro tried to keep his consciousness together, but his new baby body was losing the battle. He faded into unconsciousness once again.
When he next awoke, the ceiling above him was unfamiliar. Clean. Elegant.
He was in a room. A big one. With soft lighting, plush walls, and faint lullabies playing from somewhere nearby.
He was still a baby.
But now he was warm, wrapped in soft blankets, lying in a proper crib. Hanging mobiles danced above his head, painted with stars and moons.
'So… I didn't die. Again. That's… good, right?'
Just then, the door opened.
A familiar voice rang out.
"I'm coming in~! Oh! You're awake, little guy!"
It was her. The girl from before—the one who found him.
She rushed to his side and smiled down at him, brushing a hand gently over his belly.
"You scared me, you know. When I saw you lying there in the cold, I thought… ugh, I don't even want to imagine what would've happened if I hadn't found you."
Kuro stared up at her, stunned.
She was... beautiful. No, divine.
Not in the exaggerated anime way, but truly mesmerizing—like an angel painted into a fairy tale. Her dark hair shimmered like polished obsidian, her eyes deep and warm. Graceful, radiant, and somehow both noble and soft. Like a princess carved from moonlight.
Kuro had lived two lives. He had seen countless faces—some real, some animated.
But never, in either world, had he seen someone quite like her.
"I was going to run away, you know?" she continued, almost laughing. "I had everything packed. I was ready to ditch this life. But then I saw you. Just lying there. In the freezing cold. Not even a blanket…"
She frowned, anger and sadness flashing in her eyes.
"I couldn't leave you. No way. If I had… if you'd died… I'd never forgive myself."
Kuro felt something stir in his tiny chest.
Gratitude. Warm and real.
She gave up her escape—for him. A stranger. A baby.Even though he hadn't done anything to deserve it.
At that moment, he vowed silently:He would live this new life properly. For her.
Just then, the door opened again.
"Milady," a soft voice said. A maid entered the room, bowing politely. "The Madam asks that I take the child. She wishes for him to be properly cared for."
The maid was, in her own right, stunning. But after seeing the girl before him, even a beauty like this seemed to dim in comparison.
"I'll take care of him myself," the young lady replied firmly. "I need to speak with my father anyway. Come."
The maid hesitated. "But... milady..."
"It's fine. I've decided."
The maid could only sigh. Once this girl made up her mind, even the family matriarch couldn't move her. She led them through the massive estate.
Even in her arms, Kuro could sense how big this mansion was. Every hallway was long and ornate, decorated with art and elegance. It was like walking through a castle.
He tried to peek up at her face again, to memorize every detail—but all he could see was fabric and the crook of her arm.His first true enemy in this world: being held too close.
They finally arrived at a grand room lined with oil paintings and plush furniture. A refined woman sat on an embroidered chair, her posture regal, her presence sharp.
The mother.
She glanced up, startled to see her daughter holding a baby.
"Mother," the girl said firmly. "I want to adopt this child."
The room fell quiet.
"You do realize," the mother began slowly, "that you're expected to inherit everything from this family. That includes responsibility, reputation—and a proper husband. A child will only complicate that."
"Do I need to remind you," the girl interrupted, her tone turning cold, "why I ran away in the first place?"
Her gentle demeanor vanished. In its place was strength, fire, and defiance. Not a spoiled heiress, but a young woman fighting for her freedom.
The mother froze.
Then sighed. "You're my only daughter. What choice do I have? You've already rejected every suitor we've prepared."
She leaned back, resigned.
"Fine. I won't interfere anymore. Raise the child if you want. Name him, register him—do it properly. But remember: if he's to join our family, he follows our rules. You'll take full responsibility for him."
The girl bowed her head slightly. "I will."
Kuro watched in stunned silence.
She gave up her freedom—for him.
She stood up to her powerful mother—for him.
And now… he wasn't just a baby anymore.
He was the adopted son of a noble house.