𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 ♛ ꜱᴘʏ ✗ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ

ೃ⁀➷𝘈𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘴 (𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘰)

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When they reached the doorway- or freedom, as Lia would aptly call it, she couldn't help but shield her eyes from the sun as if she hadn't seen it in days.

On second thought, maybe she hadn't. The fogged up glass of the orphanage windows had obscured most of the sunlight.

She stood still, just taking it all in. The sharp (autumn?) air intermingled with the aroma of savoury pretzels and tobacco smoke.

Hold on. Wasn't tobacco popular in the 1960s?
Very few people used them anymore compared to the cigarettes so the fact that they were-

"Anya wants pretzels."

Anya's voice startled her out of her reverie.

She turned towards the blond- Loid, waiting to see what he would say.

She didn't know all that much about him other than his name after getting a peek at his driver's license. Even that had something off about it, though she couldn't pinpoint what.

His whole act was strange. Supposedly 27 and still unmarried. Not that that was unusual in itself but someone with his looks shouldn't have any issues finding a wife.

If he only wanted a family. Not to mention his desire for an intelligent child.

If the orphanage director hadn't given a shit where they were going, this would've definitely raised some red flags.

Loid threw a considering glance at the soft pretzel stand before handing her a few coins.

"Get one each."

While she hadn't been craving pretzels, she wasn't complaining. It also gave her the opportunity to inspect the currency, not that it yielded any results.

"Come on Anya, we're getting pretzels."

Anya looked as if she'd just been handed a winning lottery ticket.

"Anya wants this one!" She told the woman running the stall.

Lia read the sign: peanut butter pretzels. It was fitting.
"Could I have a cinnamon one please?"

"Such manners! Sweet siblings like you are so rare nowadays..."

Lia didn't bother correcting her.

"That'll be 2 dalcs."

Lia stared at the money in her hand, wondering how much each coin was worth in terms of these 'dalcs'. She then decided to pile all of them on the counter.

The woman gave her a strange look before only taking one of them and handing her some change.

They got into a taxi, by which time Anya had already finished her pretzel. She had peanut butter smeared across her mouth, leaving Lia to wonder how she managed to inhale it so quickly.

Then she remembered what kind of 'food' she'd been living on and felt it was justified.

"Anya, don't forget to wipe your mouth."

"But there's nothing to use," she pouted. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she searched the car.

"Hey, don't touch that! Are you trying to get us in trouble?"
"Just, use a tissue-" she fished a handkerchief from her pocket "-or something..."

I swear that wasn't in there before.

Lia shook her head and placed it back in her pocket after cleaning all the peanut butter.

A problem for another day.

And then her thoughts drifted back again. The architecture was...different, even from brief glimpses she caught as the buildings whizzed by. Thinking back, she'd never confirmed where she was, globally anyway.

It'd been quite obvious she was in an orphanage the moment she'd witnessed the criminally ugly clothing and sad excuse for food that probably had broken a few laws just by existing.

If she were to guess...somewhere in Europe? The architecture certainly supported her theory.

Though she noticed something was missing. Something so obvious yet somehow so easily forgettable.

Smartphones. Where were the iPhones, the androids? Did a world truly exist without iPhone users and android users waging war?

Thinking back...tobacco pipes weren't commonplace anymore, were they?

So, instead of being in a different dimension, she had simply time travelled. She wasn't sure which situation she'd prefer to be in.

But she hadn't considered it could be both until now. It was a scary thought. One that felt like being dunked in ice cold water or the few terrifying seconds of free fall after jumping off a cliff. The realisation hit her that this might not be a dream.

The colours looked so...vivid. The buildings, too detailed. Lia had an imagination. A great one, even. But not on this level, not to this scale.

Even the bustle of people hurrying along the paved roads. Each one had their own facial features, their own expressions, maybe their own lives.

It's said that every face in your dream is from someone you've encountered before but she didn't remember ever seeing this many people.

Then she felt a hand in hers. Anya, of course. And for some inexplicable reason, it made her feel better. The squeeze of reassurance drew her attention back to another passing thought.

Somehow, Anya felt a little too perfect too be real. Annoying little sisters were common, expected actually.

It led her to suspect she'd dreamed her up. After all, there were inconsistencies in dreams. Things that didn't quite make sense but dream logic made it seem normal.

For example, a child as adorable as Anya being returned, not once, but 4 times? It didn't seem credible.

Unless she'd murdered an entire family or something, there didn't seem to be anything she couldn't get away with with a sparkle of her puppy eyes.

Maybe Lia was just biased.

Assuming it was possible, the whole situation was still ridiculous. Being stuck in the body of a 7 year old? Sounded like the plot of some badly written fanfiction.

Lia briefly pondered if she was in the plot of some badly written fanfiction before dismissing the idea.

Haha no way. Right...?

She thought about it. The tags. The tropes. Reincarnation, fluff, found family...the list goes on.

Yikes. This isn't looking good for me.

So she discarded that train of thought before it drove her to an existential crisis.

It was no use to dwell on such implausible things.

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