"Ah, Rocco. You finally woke up."
Blinking at the scene spreading out before him, Rocco thought, Huh?
Something felt off.
He clearly remembered—he had just arrived at the Del Fiore estate, greeted Makarov and the other members, and been shown to his room.
Exhausted, he'd fallen asleep almost immediately.
The sofa in the spacious room had been so soft and comfortable that he simply couldn't tear himself away from it.
But then... why?
Why was he now seeing—
"...Father?"
It wasn't the familiar amethyst eyes he usually saw, but deep black eyes and black hair—the look of his past life.
Lying beside him on the white bed, his "Father" closed the book he had been reading and smiled warmly.
Ah, right.
This was the hospital room.
His almost-forgotten memories of his previous life came rushing back like a flood.
