Chapter 3: Subrina Sparr

My name is Subrina Sparr.

And I am a reincarnator from another world – wait, that doesn't sound right. I think reincarnating into a game world has its own genre separate from regular reincarnation.

Anyways, I am one of that.

After I was born, the first year was a very traumatic experience. I could hardly walk and I couldn't even take care of myself, so I had to let go of my human dignity completely.

I think I went insane, because that is definitely not something that one could hope to survive with a sane mind.

But after I got through the first year, everything was okay.

...except for the fact that my parents got into making another baby right after the first year passed. It was so loud at night that I had trouble sleeping for a few months. For the nth time, I realized that babies don't get human rights.

Because of that, I developed a habit of sleeping unbothered by any sound.

These people are way too irresponsible to be parents.

I had a baby brother by the end of the 2nd year. His name was Akira Sparr.

Yeah, you heard that right.

Akira Sparr.

That was my name from my past life, and now some goo‑goo baby is going around flaunting my name.

I later learned that my parents agreed to name the baby Subrina if it was a girl and name it Akira if it was a boy.

I guess I didn't have a Subrina in my previous life because I was an only child.

In my previous life, they didn't even talk much, let alone have sex with each other every day.

But now that I am Subrina, I found Akira to be incredibly irritating.

He would start crying just when I was about to go to sleep. I mean, I have that skill which allows me to sleep through anything, but I have to fall asleep first in order to use it.

So every time he started wailing loudly, I would climb up his crib and look at him. I don't know why, but he stopped crying the moment he saw me. I guess I am really good with kids.

Even though he was really annoying, one thing I got to admit is that he acted the role of a newborn baby better than I could ever have. He was so good at it that our parents completely abandoned the idea of having a third child.

When somebody brings up having another child, my parents would have this look of utter terror on their faces.

But they still wanted to do their love making, which failed miserably because a certain newborn refused to stay silent after being woken up in the middle of the night. Unlike me, who ignored the noise and slept like a log.

Heh! (SMUG)

I hope my parents realize what a good child I had been.

The third year was my most active year yet. I could finally do normal physical activity like I used to.

And I decided that I can't go on living without speaking. So I decided to reveal the fact that I can speak. But since it's too much trouble, I didn't speak much.

I started with small words. "No." "Stop." "Milk." The milk one got the fastest reaction – Mother practically teleported to the kitchen.

But here's the thing: I had been silent for so long that everyone assumed I was a quiet child. The first time I said "No" clearly, my father dropped his coffee. Mother stared at me like I'd just solved world hunger. Akira, who was two years old and could already say "Mama" and "Papa" and "more" with disturbing precision, looked at me like I was an idiot for waiting so long.

He was not wrong.

I guess I was just lazy.

And so, three years passed since my birth.

Three years of surviving babyhood. Three years of watching my parents be disgustingly affectionate. Three years of a baby brother who cried at the worst times and then stopped immediately when he saw my face – as if even he knew I was the authority figure in this house.

I'm three years old now.

I can walk. I can run. I can climb. I can frown with enough intensity to make grown adults question their life choices.

And I can finally, barely, sort of, mostly speak.

It's progress.

'A long way to go but, Still Stronger'

My little brother gurgles in his sleep.

I frown at him.

He stops.

'That's right,' I think. 'Fear me.'

https://freeimage.host/i/CoXu66N