Chapter 4: Where’s the peace you fucking God!
Hiroshi's eyes snapped open. His head throbbed, and his body felt strange—smaller, lighter. He tried to sit up, but the moment he moved, his balance wobbled, and he tumbled off the seat.
Thud!
"Ouch... what the hell?" he muttered, rubbing his head. The floor was hard, and his limbs felt weak. He pushed himself up, his hands trembling as if he hadn't used them in years. He staggered, almost out of breath by the time he stood straight.
He stared down at his hands—small, pale, and delicate. His sleeves hung loosely around thin arms. "Just how old is this fucking body?" he thought, irritation sparking in his mind. He flexed his fingers, feeling the unfamiliarity of it all.
Finally steady, Hiroshi raised his head and nearly jumped back in surprise. There, sitting calmly across from him, was a man—tall and stiff, his eyes watching Hiroshi with mild interest. Hiroshi blinked. "How long was he sitting there? He didn't even help me?!"
Hiroshi took a breath, forcing his mind to settle. He glanced around, trying to understand where he was. Wooden walls lined with leather cushions, a slightly swaying motion beneath his feet. The clatter of wheels and the creaking of wood...
"What is this?" he mumbled. His eyes darted to the small, foggy window. Without thinking, he moved toward it, lifting himself on his toes to peek outside.
His eyes widened. The carriage was moving—not by horses—but by massive hounds, each one towering and muscular, their fur sleek and black. They pulled the carriage with surprising grace, their paws thudding heavily against the dirt path.
"What the hell..." he whispered, unable to look away.