Being Loved for the First Time Chapter 3

I felt as though dark clouds were hanging over me.

 

Of course, I thought the name Anastasia itself was pretty.

 

The problem was that it was the name of a hero of this world.

 

“The hero Anastasia, who saved the world, is still respected to this day. She lived happily for the rest of her life afterward, too.”

 

Judging from my mother’s tone alone, she didn’t seem to have named me with bad intentions.

 

No, but that had been true of my parents in previous lives, too.

 

They had all named me after heroes because they wanted something from me.

 

Was it because the power I’d accumulated had become so great? Or because worlds on the brink of destruction were desperate to be saved?

 

There had been worlds where an oracle was delivered when I was born.

 

My ninety-ninth life, immediately before this one, had been like that.

 

In those worlds, some parents had named me after famous heroes, their names brimming with ambition.

 

They expected great things from me, while at the same time being terribly afraid of me.

 

As a result, even if they initially showed delight or pretended to treat me well, they were often consumed by fear and began abusing me before long.

 

As though they wanted confirmation that I was powerless before my parents’ authority.

 

Of course, because it was bothersome, I had generally gone along with their abuse to an appropriate degree.

 

But then there were plenty who called me doll-like, disliked me, and shunned me. I never knew how to please them.

 

‘And if I pretended their cruelty hurt too much, they’d doubt the oracle and beat me again.’

 

I really couldn’t tell whether they wanted me to be nothing special or wanted me to be a hero.

 

That was why, even though the moment I was born into this life had been warm, I had resolved to be cautious, then cautious again.

 

***

 

That was what I’d thought, anyway….

 

‘I’d braced myself because they’d given me a hero’s name….’

 

One month after my birth, I was bewildered by how unexpectedly peaceful everything had been.

 

As though to make my wariness seem embarrassing, my family hadn’t done anything at all.

 

‘Normally, the priests would have come and made an enormous fuss by now.’

 

They would say I had to prove my power or undergo an examination.

 

But far from that, my family kept doing things I’d never imagined.

 

“Oh dear, young lady. Are you hungry? It’s all my fault. I’ll bring your milk right away!”

 

That was the maid’s reaction when I’d woken up and reflexively moved my lips.

 

“Oh my, how could I not notice you needed your diaper changed? Goodness, it’s my fault. Let’s have a bath, our pretty little lady.”

 

No, I’d only wriggled a little….

 

If I had to describe my childhoods in a single word, it would be neglect.

 

Neglect, coldness, abuse.

 

Until now, those words had been more than enough to describe the childhoods I’d lived through.

 

‘But they’re paying attention to even the tiniest movement I make?’

 

Ah, could this be surveillance rather than attention?

 

When I thought of it that way, it made a little more sense.

 

‘Of course. Why else would they stay and keep watch even at night, when everyone is asleep?’

 

I was satisfied to have found the answer to something I’d been wondering about lately.

 

There was always someone beside my cradle, as if disaster would strike the instant they took their eyes off me.

 

***

 

No matter how I thought about it, my mother had to possess some kind of mysterious power.

 

Otherwise, there was no way I’d fall asleep like an ordinary baby every time she patted me.

 

Anyway….

 

By the time I woke up after being fed and put to sleep by my mother, the room had grown dim.

 

Of course, this room generally had at least a small light burning.

 

‘Hm? But doesn’t it seem much darker than usual?’

 

Since it wasn’t the first time I’d woken in the middle of the night, I turned my head in puzzlement.

 

‘Gasp.’

 

I was startled at that very moment.

 

A huge mountain had risen in front of my cradle.

 

‘Ah, n-no…. It’s not a mountain.’

 

After blinking my bleary eyes several times, I realized what it was.

 

It was none other than my father.

 

‘I thought the signs of the apocalypse had already appeared.’

 

It was the first time I’d seen my father, who had the face of a wolf and the build of a mountain, keeping watch beside my cradle in the middle of the night.

 

Well, it was possible he’d done it before and I simply hadn’t known because I was asleep.

 

My mother’s pats had truly terrifying effects, after all.

 

In any case, upon realizing this wasn’t a sign of the world’s destruction, I inadvertently let out a tiny breath of relief.

 

It was a sound no one would have heard unless they were paying very close attention.

 

But the great mountain—no, my father—whipped around and opened his mouth.

 

“Is our widdle one awake?”

 

Pardon?

 

For a moment, I doubted my ears.

 

‘I must have heard wrong, right?’

 

Maybe my ears were playing tricks on me because I’d just woken up.

 

Wasn’t that way of speaking completely at odds with his enormous build?

 

However….

 

“Is our widdle one hungry? Should Daddy get you some milk? Or change your diaper?”

 

Uh….

 

What on earth was I listening to?

 

His voice had climbed several pitches, and he was talking in an adorable babyish manner utterly at odds with his charismatic, almost wolfish face.

 

No, of course I’d seen him shedding huge tears from the moment we first met, but….

 

Still, this just doesn’t suit you at all, Father….

 

Perhaps it was because I’d encountered something so utterly unexpected.

 

“Hic, hic—”

 

I hadn’t been startled in the slightest—it’s true, I absolutely wasn’t surprised!—but I ended up hiccupping.

 

Whatever was inside, this was still the body of a newborn baby.

 

“Oh no, did our widdle one get scawed? It’s Daddy. Daddy isn’t scawy.”

 

No, why are you on the verge of crying again, Father?

 

I’m not frightened. I’m just—I’m just so dumbfounded, that’s all.

 

I mean it….

 

“Did our Anastasia fowget Daddy’s face because she hasn’t seen him much?”

 

No, what on earth did he take me for?

 

I felt infinitely wronged.

 

Even if I was a newborn, my eyes and brain worked perfectly well.

 

How could I forget my family’s faces? It wasn’t as though a thousand years had passed!

 

It was such an unfair misunderstanding.

 

But my father apparently had already convinced himself that I was afraid of him.

 

Upset that I was frightened, he sniffled as he picked me up—surprisingly, he held me with tremendous stability and practiced ease—and began patting my back.

 

“It’s all wight, widdle one. It’s Daddy. Da-ddy. Not a scawy person or a monster.”

 

Sob, sob, sob, sob. I’m really not scared. I mean it.

 

Forget some terrifying monster—even if destruction descended on us, I wouldn’t be afraid in the least, and I could defeat it all myself.

 

Of course, not right now. I’d have to grow a little first.

 

A baby’s body was so weak that using even a little power would make things troublesome.

 

But this desperate explanation….

 

“Hiiing.”

 

My not-yet-developed baby body betrayed me and released it as a whimper.

 

It was terribly inconvenient.

 

In this body, even if I wanted to say something, I wasn’t capable of babbling yet, so everything came out sounding like crying.

 

‘He’ll probably get annoyed by this….’

 

He’d come to take care of me only to find me whining.

 

Having always been a quiet baby even when neglected, I felt even more wronged.

 

As though I had become a bothersome baby against my own wishes.

 

“Oh dear, widdle one. Do the hiccups feel funny? It’s all wight, it’s all wight.”

 

But my father only patted and soothed me, as if he understood everything.

 

At some point my hiccups naturally stopped. He carefully met my eyes and even gave me a bright smile.

 

“What a clever widdle one, you even know how to stop hiccupping. Well done.”

 

I’d started hiccupping on my own, and then it had stopped with time—and he was praising me for that?

 

It was all much too strange.

 

‘Could it be that I…’

 

Had been born into a family composed entirely of absurdly gullible people…?

 

I sank into serious contemplation as I looked at my angelically kind father.

 

‘That’s right, there were people like that.’

 

People who couldn’t refuse family requests, guaranteed their relatives’ debts, and ended up losing everything.

 

Perhaps this was a new form of suffering prepared to commemorate my hundredth life.

 

‘No. Anything but walking into hell because of someone’s debts….’

 

Although I’d never lived beyond my teens, I knew perfectly well how frightening it was to guarantee another person’s debts.

 

I sincerely wanted to live a reasonably uneventful life here and then die without too much trouble.

 

Thanks to that, I felt an urgent sense of duty to stay alert.

 

‘I refuse to live some bothersome life where I have to worry about debts and run around plugging holes wherever money leaks out!’

 

Whether he knew of my worries or not….

 

“Anastasia, our pwetty widdle one. Shall Daddy put you down for a sleepy-bye now?”

 

My father just kept saying such carefree things.