…It’s an unfamiliar ceiling…
The moment I woke up, what I saw was a ceiling with the night sky painted on it.
I don’t see any constellations that I know of…
I vaguely thought about that, and then huffed that this wasn’t the time.
Um, that was probably an accident, right? The glare was from the car lights…but this isn’t a hospital…no, it’s a special room or something like that…Wow, I wonder if the store is okay…insurance card, where do I use it…?
My head starts spinning rapidly in reality.
No, no, I can’t even think about it…Let’s call a nurse for the time being.
I was surprised when I got up on the bed while trying to find the nurse call switch.
“…Awesome…”
What I thought was the ceiling was just the canopy.
And what I was sleeping on was a princess bed like I’ve seen in museums. It was also quite luxurious.
Aside from the fluffy mattress, I was struck by the intricacy of the bedspread embroidery. The garden is filled with flowers as if it were sewn right out of the garden. Spring flowers…were a little faded in color.
To be honest, I love this kind of thing. I like museums and art galleries, and I love this kind of handwork. If I hadn’t become a chef…that is, if I hadn’t been a bit more enthusiastic, I would have gone into the art world.
“…Huh?”
I suddenly realized.
Isn’t my hand small?
My hands were small and my arms were thin. Most importantly, my nails were…long and nicely aligned. Even though I never grow them this long because I cook.
It’s a strange feeling…something very strange, but I don’t know what it is.
My legs, which I tried to gently place onto the floor, were shorter…and definitely smaller than I thought they would be.
Did they shrink? I…
That’s what I thought, but somewhere in my head I have a different suspicion. I try not to think about it as much as possible.
I open the thin silk that lets the light softly through and look around the room.
…This is definitely not a hospital. Or maybe it’s not even in Japan…
A large room that looks like a little bit of a hall…large windows let sunlight stream in through the lace curtains, and the floor is buried under a fluffy, furry carpet.
And then there’s the chandelier above my head…I don’t think it’s really an audience hall here.
I have a very bad feeling about this…
The suspicion I’ve been thinking about in the corner of my head for a while now may be correct…
…It’s not true, it shouldn’t be.
‘Think,’ I tell myself.
Because it can’t be true.
Many times, I deny the possibility.
But no matter how many times I look at it, it doesn’t change.
Children’s hands…
Slender…small hands.
Long, white hands with long fingers.
There are no burn marks or scars from when I messed up and stabbed myself with a petit knife.
The nails are neatly trimmed.
I…
So I couldn’t stop thinking about that possibility.
…might be dead.
That night.
When I thought about it, something tingling crept into my chest.
I crawled into my bed and pulled the comforter up to my head.
It’s not that I’m safe in my bed, but when I curled up in a small ball like that of a futon, I calmed down a bit.
But then I realized even more.
…Injured…I’m not injured…
It’s almost a definite fact that I was in a car accident.
And it wasn’t like I could have gotten away with it unscathed just because of the circumstances.
Absolutely, I should have been injured.
The fact that I am unharmed…
…I knew it.
The sensation goes back and forth between ‘maybe’ and ‘I knew it’ in a dizzying way.
Ugh, reincarnation or…something like that…?
The fact that I have the consciousness of “I” is absolute. But this body does not belong to Maya Izumi, and if it is…the first thing that comes to mind is a reincarnated self.
No, but that can’t be true, it’s definitely not true!…No, but…it looks like I’m a kid…
And the feel of a soft bed and the texture of the carpet lets me know that this is real.
Yup, it’s also a dream…I’m sure…it probably is…
But no matter how much time passes, no matter how many times I blink, the scene I see through the cracks in the covers doesn’t change at all.
Yup, let’s be brave…
I started to squirm up to check again.
Out of the bedding, I step on the carpet, stand firmly and look around.
The room is moderately well-lit by direct sunlight…a beautifully decorated room, polished furnishings, and then flowers all over the room…a classy opulence. It’s not only expensive, but also has a good sense of style.
Paintings and tapestries hang on the walls, warming the chilly atmosphere.
They all seem to be scenes from a landscape or a story of some kind. It’s a soft color scheme that I think women would like.
Is this a princess bed at the end or…
It’s a light-colored wood and the columns of the canopy are carved to look like they’re covered in ivy.
The leaves of the ivy are so realistic, even the veins of the leaves have been carved into it…it’s wood, but I can almost feel the texture of it.
It’s a really nice bed, and if it weren’t for these circumstances, I would be enjoying it to the fullest.
It’s not so much a foreign country as it is a fantasy novel or some such story.
I have to admit, I love those kinds of stories.
Not here though…stories of such a world that aren’t real. But that’s because it’s a story.
I didn’t want a situation where I would go into a story like this.
As for the room, it looks like an old mansion in England or France or something…
It looks like a country house I visited when I was in the UK…The word “country house” means a country house, but it’s more accurate to say “mansion” or “castle” rather than “house.”
The room I am in now has such a luxurious and dignified atmosphere.
Suddenly, my attention was caught by a painting on the front wall.
The dull gold frame looks dated.
The background is clearly the room here, and the painting is of a young girl.
Wow, she’s cute. She looks like an angel. I wonder if she’s related to this place.
Her age is about twelve or thirteen years old. She has pale gold hair and blue eyes…her skin is white as if it were to break out and her cheeks are slightly rosy. She’s a beautiful girl who looks like a painting. No, it’s a picture, but…eh?
I chuckled with a bitter smile and realized that…this is…
I half-heartedly raised my hand.
The girl in the picture raised her hand, too.
I put out my tongue.
The girl in the picture also put her tongue out.
…Correction, it’s not a painting. It’s a mirror.
“Eeeeeeeeehhhhhh!!!!!”
I let out a loud exclamation and then stumbled back to bed, staggering too much.
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