I think Iâll tell my story here, recite it just as I please â like this.
My name is Filmina Veer Adina. Iâm the firstborn daughter of the Adina family, a noble family just upper class enough to live in the capital. But itâs fine if you donât manage to remember that.
I donât mean to say something difficult like ãThatâs because that name is just my name ãnowã, and not the ãpast meâsã name. ã I just mean itâs not that necessary for the story, thatâs all.
You probably understand now. You donât even have to ask â thereâs no doubt that Iâve gone through this thing called reincarnation.
Reincarnation â or, in other words, to be born again. In my past life, I was on a planet called Earth, in a country called Japan, born to an ordinary family, a very ordinary girl. By the way, I was just about to reach my thirties.
Did I forget who I was? No, I couldnât forget. I couldnât forget the reality that Iâd suddenly been laid off at the height of the employment ice age due to the business recession. Iâd ended up job-hunting after several years, and was walking along a street at night when I encountered a purse snatcher. Was I the wrong one for showing too much willpower, refusing to let go of my bag? I ended up being dragged along by a car and dying just like that. That was ãmeã from my past existence.
I was born into this world and didnât realize that I was ãmeã until I was three years old. I got an illness that was going around and ended up with a high fever, spending a week wandering between life and death. Even my father who kept his face stone cold as he worked as the Governor of Magical Books at the palace, nicknamed âSmilesâ, said, ãThat was the only time I was actually terrified.ã We still talk about it even now, so I could say it was a fitting occasion.
Yes, in that fitting fever, I carelessly remembered ãmeã. Groaning in the middle of my feverish nightmares, I desperately chewed up and drank thatãmeã and made it part of myself. If I hadnât, no doubt I wouldâve been swallowed up by ãmeã instead and gone insane.
So at the age of three years, I triumphed against the almost-thirty year old ãmeã and then overcome my illness too. Good job, me.
A lot of things happened, and that three-year-old me whoâd turned into myself and become the base of who I am today, realized. I realized that this world was called fantasy in my past life, a world of swords and sorcery.
Yes, fantasy. A world that not only little boys and girls longed for, but even adults went crazy over.
When I realized I was born in that world, I â embarrassingly â was foolishly delighted. I thought I was the chosen one, and almost misunderstood horribly. I want to emphasize ãalmostã here. I was practically forced to realize that, whether I liked it or not, I misunderstood.
A child born into a fantasy world, remembering their past life. If you look at it superficially, it sounds like itâd be renowned and displayed for the world, but nothing really came of that for me. No matter how many times I ask why, the truth doesnât change. I was still just a three-year-old, nothing more and nothing less. Yes, in those days, I was just a three-year-old in the end. Whenever I tried acting upon my biased knowledge from my past life, all roused up, I always lost in the end.
For example, I aimed to be a child prodigy from a young age, trying to read magical books.
My father, who grew dear to me, worked hard as the Governor of Magical Books, a government official who passed as one of the elites. Thanks to that, there were many valuable magical books at our house, but what if I tried reading them?
Of course, there was no way I could. I only had a vague knowledge of the general alphabet used here; on top of that, they were written in a difficult magical vocabulary so there was no way I could read them. There was no convenient reasoning like ãThe ãpastã worldâs alphabet is used as the magical language in this world!ã English had been my strong subject in the ãpastã world, but what use would that have in this world?
As I sat, holding my head in front of magical books I couldnât read a single word of, my wet nurse scolded me, ãDonât play tricks!ã
Well then, I told myself, why donât I try holding a sword then? It goes without saying that this went even further than the magical books.
The Governor of Magical Books isnât a military officer but a civil official, so there was no need for one to have a sword in the first place. But my father was fond of swordsmanship, and practiced in the garden sometimes. I brought out the makeshift fake sword he would use, which was far too big and heavy for a three-year-oldâs hand, and started waving it around. ãWhat is the Adinasâ young lady doing?!ã My wet nurse scolded me again.
My usually easygoing father smiled wryly, saying, ãShe takes after me, doesnât she?ã while even my quiet mother lowered her brows in worry, saying, ãFilmina really is a naughty childâ¦ã
After this reaction, you might think Iâd set my eyes on this being a so-called Cheat story or a reverse harem. Of course, the answer is no. I didnât have that kind of willpower or guts in me. My looks were perhaps in the upper half of average at best, and my personality was that of an ordinary woman past 30. Although I was rather desperate at having been reincarnated into a different world, that behavior was still too absurd for me.
So in the end, I was brought up just like that. My sense of discomfort at being 30+ on the inside was brushed away with ãJust a little grown-up girl who loves biting off more than she can chew.ã This was probably thanks to my fatherâs job. The Governor of Magical Books, like the name suggested, governed magical books. The Adina family had held that title for generations, and my father was the 14th one from our family.
The Governor would use special operations to transcribe the magical books that had magic embedded into each word and was charged with the safekeeping of old books â a position that wasnât too gaudy but not too simple either. It was an honorable occupation, one that even our countryâs king would remember.
The 15th Governor of Magical Books, our familyâs next head is not going to be me but my three years younger brother, Fernan. Knowing that makes even me feel a littleâ¦â¦. Ah, excuse me, I digress.
Anyway, everyone around me knew it was only natural that Iâd end up more mature than the other kids my age since I was surrounded by books for as long as I could remember. I myself acted like that, and my efforts were rewarded.
A child on the outside, an adult on the inside (though a very average adult). Iâll say it clearly: I was incredibly popular in my childhood days. But looking back, that too was only natural.
There was a reason I was only popular then, since now Iâm the very picture of average: lumping it all together, Iâm mediocre and have no redeeming qualities. That reason was that I was more ãadultãthan anyone else among the other kids.
I was kind to everyone, suggested things everyone liked, praised people when they were good at something, saying ãYouâre so amazing!ã or consoling people when they made mistakes, ãItâs fine if you mess up. Iâm not good at this either, so why donât we practice together?ã
I mimicked my motherâs way of speaking, so I grew increasingly violently separated from myself on the inside. But among the other kids, I acted quite well if I do say so myself.
I splendidly acquired the position of older sister among the other kids, and did nothing but supervise them when we had tea parties at our house. Especially when running around, advising them, and reading together (which was my forte, so it was basically reading out loud). All in all, I was an incredibly good child.