1.
I am, right now….
“Pfh…! S-save, mmph… save me…!”
I’m drowning.
The blue sea, which had sparkled brilliantly under warm sunlight, had turned into an endless, pitch-black darkness that was swallowing my body whole. Was it a mistake to drag a yacht out to the middle of the ocean alone and drink myself into a stupor?
“Kgh, hah…!”
Regretting it now was too late.
Cold water was already filling my lungs.
* * *
“Peeep!”
Help me!
What is that sound? An out-of-nowhere chirping noise tickled at my ears. I flung open the eyes I’d been squeezing shut and surveyed my surroundings — unfamiliar scenery filled my vision, every bit as strange as that unfamiliar cry. Above all else, I was underwater right now. I was certain I’d gone out alone in the dark of night on a yacht, yet strangely, a blazing sun was now making me squint.
The pebbles visible through the clear water only made my mind more confused.
Where am I right now?
No — it didn’t matter where this was. What mattered was that I was clearly alive.
I poked my head out above the water and looked around. Nothing but thick grass and trees. Not a single person in sight. I began moving my front legs and back legs busily to get to dry land — wait.
Front legs… and back legs…?
“Kyeeng?”
What is this? Webbed feet? What on earth is all this fur! And what’s with this whining cry coming out of me…!
I looked down. I nearly fainted again at the sight of the dark reddish-brown fur before my eyes — I had absolutely no idea what was happening. I frantically swam to shore and kept turning to look at every part of my body. I yanked at the dark reddish-brown fur covering me from head to toe, spread out my webbed hands wide, and confirmed the changes to my body.
After struggling like that for a good while, I turned my head and spotted the tail growing from my backside — my legs gave out, and I had to plop straight down onto the ground.
It’s not a costume. This is a real animal. No — not that, it’s that I’ve actually become a real animal….
I sat there in a daze for a long time before finally working up the courage to approach the water’s edge again. Small black eyes, slightly larger than a buttonhole. An adorable little nose. And whiskers growing around pink lips….
No matter how many times I blinked and blinked, the reflection in the water was unmistakably….
“Kyeng….”
An otter.
* * *
“Peeeng….”
I missed it. Today’s hunt was a failure too.
It had already been over two days of surviving by picking and eating nothing but berries and such. Before I’d even had the chance to accept the fact that I’d been reincarnated as an otter, a ferocious hunger had come crashing over me, and armed with nothing but the shallow knowledge that otters eat fish, I had simply started chasing after whatever fish were swimming around.
“Hunt” was a generous word for it — I was really just frantically tailing the fast-escaping fish from behind.
I drowned in the ocean, and then I reincarnated as an otter that can’t survive without water…. More than that, what I couldn’t figure out was why I was an otter with absolutely zero hunting ability.
I dragged myself weakly onto a rock and lay sprawled out, gazing up at the blue sky visible through the gaps in the leaves. If I kept living like this, it was obvious I’d starve to death before long. My past life ended in drowning, and this life was set to end in starvation. What kind of life is this?
I didn’t know why my memories from my past life were still intact, but I tried to take a positive view of it — thinking it would at least help me survive in the wild going forward. But the more I thought about it, the more wronged I felt. It was infuriating to have died so young without even losing my virginity. And I had no memory of enjoying my youth, let alone having a proper romance — only memories of doing nothing but working. Of course, it was also a waste that I died without getting to properly spend the money I’d earned.
Gurgle—
“Peee….”
This won’t do. I need to find a human. I’ll ask for help. A zoo might actually be better than this forest with no sign of people.
It didn’t matter what era this was or what country this was. As a general rule, humans have a fatal weakness for cute things. That’s a law that holds true regardless of era or culture.
And right now, my appearance was undeniably, eyes-closed adorable.
* * *
Since ancient times, humans have built their homes near water. Rather than blindly heading down forest paths, following this seemingly endless river had a higher chance of leading me to people.
After walking along the waterway for quite some time, a small cabin came into view in the distance.
“Peeee!”
In what appeared to be the yard, there was an axe, and beside it, firewood stacked high. The otter darted toward the cabin on all fours and, on high alert, climbed up onto the stack of firewood in the yard. Then, stretching the body out as long as possible, peered in through the window to check inside.
No matter how weak humans were against cute things, they were just as capable of cruelty. The axe out in that yard could very well come swinging down and lop off my head at any moment.
“Pee.”
No one’s here.
I had hoped there’d be at least one person, but there was no one inside, and not even a hint of a human presence could be felt.
Looks like I walked all the way here for nothing.
The thought of going hungry again today was upsetting enough that tears were threatening to spill. It was the most wretched moment since the reincarnation.
“Who are you looking for?”
“Kyeeng?”
Just as I was about to tearfully head back toward the riverside, a voice suddenly came from behind — startled, the otter leaped up and tumbled straight off the top of the firewood. A thud, followed by a brief flash of aching pain, and then a hearty, boisterous laugh rang out.
“Are you alright? What kind of weasel has such bad hearing? You didn’t even hear me walking up?”
“Peek, peeee….”
If only bad hearing were my only problem…. I can’t even hunt….
The otter muttered, brushing the dirt off its fur with small front paws. A middle-aged man looked down at the otter with a puzzled expression, then bent at the waist and began studying the otter’s features closely. The otter stared right back up at him in turn.
“You’re a therianthrope, aren’t you? It seems like you understand every word I’m saying…. But I’ve never heard of a weasel therianthrope before…. Hmm.”
A therianthrope? What does that suddenly mean?
The man who had come close had blue-tinted eyes. So this is a foreign country? Did I die in America and reincarnate as an American otter? No — more importantly, why does he keep calling me a weasel?
The two stared at each other in mutual puzzlement, blinking. Then the otter suddenly lifted its head and began to whimper pitifully.
“Kyeeeng….”
The otter stroked its small belly with its front paws and looked up at the man with a miserable gaze — making sure not to forget the most forlorn eyes possible.
“Are you hungry? I don’t have any meat… but if fish is alright, come here.”
“Peee…!”
The man, who had caught on to the otter’s intent with perfect understanding, burst into laughter at the sight of the otter squeaking away excitedly. Watching the man’s kind smile as he reached into the bucket by the door and held out a small fish, the otter nearly burst into tears — quickly swiping a paw across its eyes before accepting the small fish with both front paws, politely.
But there was a problem.
“Peeng….”
Raw fish….
The otter looked up at the man with a conflicted expression. The man stared back with a face full of questions about why the otter was just holding it and not eating.
Perhaps it was because of the memories from my past life. Actually faced with an uncleaned fish to eat raw, I felt a slight revulsion. How am I supposed to put something that’s still flapping around in my mouth? It feels like it would attack the inside of my mouth. It also kind of smells fishy.
Can’t hunt. Can’t eat raw fish.
Am I really even an otter….
After agonizing countless times over whether to put the fish in my mouth or not, the otter finally let out a defeated sigh and handed the fish back to the man.
“You’re not eating this? Then… what do I give you. I don’t have anything else.”
The man tossed the returned fish back into the bucket. The otter watched with a hollow expression, then let out a heavy, tearful sigh.
“Pee, peeng….”
The thought of going hungry again was making tears well up and spill over. Unless I could slam my head against some huge boulder and forget my past-life memories, there was no way in hell I was going to chew on raw fish in this state. So starvation in the near future seemed all but confirmed.
The man, who had been quietly watching the otter’s gloom, opened his mouth.
“I’m heading down to the village tomorrow — I’ll buy you some beef. Come again tomorrow.”
“Peee?”
Beef?
Not sure if it had heard right, the otter dug a paw into one ear and stared up at the man. No particular answer came back, but it did seem like beef was what had been said. No — it had to be.
The slumped mood from just moments ago lifted in an instant. The otter pranced around excitedly, squeaking away as it ran circles around the man in a frenzy. The man laughed heartily at the sight and remarked that it must understand speech, calling it remarkably clever.
“Peek!”
The otter waved a front paw at the man in farewell, then moved its legs swiftly toward the water. The desire to get into the water had begun to fill its mind. Spotting the river not far away, it slid right in.
