Prologue: The Warmth Next to Me
Darkness. Then, a sudden, violent rush ofcold air, blinding artificial light, and a chorus of muffled voices shouting in a language Ishouldn’thave been able to understand, yet somehow did.
“They’retwins! A boy and a girl! Bring the warm blankets, quickly!”
My lungs burned. I tried to speak—to demand what had happened to the little kid standing in the crosswalk in Tokyo, to ask if the brakes of that delivery truck had always been that loud—but all that came out of my throat was a high-pitched, pathetic wail.
Tsukishiro Satoshi. Age 34. Occupation: Tokyo Civil Servant.That was who I was supposed to be. I had a mountain of paperwork waiting on my desk in the ward office. I had a budget proposal to finish. Iwasn’tsupposed to be... whatever this was. Flaccid muscles, a mind trapped in a fog of raw instinct, and a body that felt entirely too small.
Before the panic could fully swallow me, a sudden, gentle warmth pressed against my left side.
Another tiny, fragile body was laiddown rightnext to mine in the wooden crib. Instinctively, a ridiculously small hand flailed through the air, blindly searching, until its tiny fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist. The moment our skin touched, the frantic, terrified crying of the baby next to me instantly stopped. She let out a soft, rhythmic sigh, digging her face right into my shoulder, gluing herself to me as if she would dissolve into nothingness if she let go.
I froze, staring down at the tiny tuft of silver-white hair resting against my chest.
“Look at them,” a woman’s voice rasped from above us, thick with exhaustion but heavy with a deep, fierce love. “Even in the womb, they never separated. They are like two halves of a single soul.”
A man’s calloused, rough hand gently brassed over our heads. “Ren. And Rin. Ren and Rin Tsukishiro. Grow up strong, my little ones. The mountains are unforgiving, but you have each other.”
Tsukishiro.
The name hit my adult consciousness like a physical blow.How?This room smelled of burning firewood, drafty pine, and cheap tallow candles. It was a rustic, primitive cabin that looked nothing like Japan, let alone the twenty-first century. Yet, my last name from Tokyo had somehow followed me across the boundary of death. I wanted to think about it, toanalyzethelogistics, to figure out the structural reality of this bizarre reincarnation.
But the sheer exhaustion of being born was a heavy, suffocating weight. My eyelids felt like lead.
Beside me, Rin shifted, her tiny grip tightening on my wrist. Even in her sleep, she moved closer, her breathing perfectlysyncingwith mine. It was suffocating, a little absurd, and utterly undeniable.
Ididn’tknow what kind of world lay outside the wooden walls of this cabin. Ididn’tknow why a forest calledThe Lost Echowhispered so ominously in the distance just beyond the window. But as I finally let sleep take me, anchored by the tiny girl glued to my side, I made a quiet vow.
I was given a second chance. And whatever it took, I was going to protect this warmth.
