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It was a non-stop agony. Every molecule in my body felt as if it were screaming in indescribable pain, and within seconds, the pain was all I knew. Then came a static noise, a ringing in my ears. It grew steadily in volume, louder, and louder, as I could only float in this emptiness.

Suddenly, there was nothing. No pain, no sound, no sensation... I was fully in oblivion. So this is the afterlife?

But then came a sound. Faintly, more of a buzz than a voice, as if it came from the back of my mind. It was gone just as quickly as it had come. But then it came again.

'Wake up!'

Light overwhelmed my eyes as I flung awake. I drank in air like I had been starved of it, chest burning as I heaved for breath, and a cold sweat ran down my back. I blinked my eyes furiously. My mind felt bleary, as if my head were stuffed with cotton, and I could hardly piece my thoughts together. Where am I? The hospital? The hell – I thought I was dead?

My eyes finally adjusted to the sudden light, and I became aware of my surroundings. My hands were clenched into fists against the rumpled green blankets of the bed I sat in. My face scrunched as I tried to shake this dreamy feeling away. Something felt ever so slightly off.

"Y/N?" A smiling woman sat to the left of my bed. She wore a long black dress that concealed most of her neck, a perfectly pristine white apron tied overtop; unwrinkled and unstained. Her face was just as well-kempt as her clothes, with short reddish-blonde hair tucked behind her ears, and neatly trimmed bangs framing her delicate features; a small dainty nose, thin rosy lips and piercing green eyes. I was overwhelmed with a sensation of familiarity, so I did not recoil from her touch as she rested one hand on my arm. Her pixie-like face was drawn together in concern as she spoke in a gentle, motherly voice. "Is everything okay?"

The room started to suddenly spin like a top. I flopped back down onto the bed, my head sinking into a cool, fluffy pillow. My neck was prickling in the same cold sweat that dampened my clothes now. "Where am I?" I uttered, and my brow furrowed at my voice. Did I always sound like that?

The woman rested a damp cloth on my forehead, dabbing away at the sweat. "The infirmary," she said.

"The infirmary? Not... Not a hospital?"

"What are you talking about?" The cloth was removed, and cool skin of a hand pressed against my forehead. "Your fever seems to be going down, and you certainly seem better... how do you feel?"

I grunted and sat up again, the cloth flopping off my forehead and into my lap. "I feel like I just got plowed by a damned truck, that's what..."

I stopped short. My eyes finally fell onto the room I was confined to; a sight that was oddly familiar, though I was certain I'd never set foot in a place lit with victorian-style gas lanterns mounted on the walls. Are you shitting me? What century is this?

There was another bed set to my right, with pastel green curtains gathered against the wall, to be pulled open if privacy was needed. Within the room there were several cupboards, two of which were tall and painted white, with glass over the doors so you could see the various medicines and ointments stocked inside. Beside the only window, letting in a drab pale light from outside, was a small wooden table and a chair. On top of the desk sat writing materials in a cup, and a small mug with freshly-picked wildflowers poking out of the top.

I looked again to the woman on my left, as a stone of discomfort began to settle in my gut. The woman's outfit, the room I was in, and when I looked down, the pristine white uniform I was clothed in, ironed to perfection. Was I in Grace Field? The Grace Field? As in, The Promised Neverland Grace Field!?

Wait! But what if this is the afterlife, I wondered. Or, maybe even a hallucination, or, or – A dream! Yeah, that's it, I'm just in a coma. I'll wake up any minute now... But until then...

Yeah, I'm going to fuck around with this.

"Y/N?" the woman urged softly – I realised I'd been staring and hastily smiled.

"It's nothing! I was just wondering... What day is it?"

The woman, a Grace Field Mother, maintained her slight smile as she replied. "It's Wednesday. The 11th of September, 2045."

I barely hid my excitement with a mask of concern. Now, at least, I know when I am!

"You've been incredibly sick these past two weeks..." The woman's thin lips were pressed together in regretful concern. "Hardly conscious, most of the time... It's no wonder you've lost track of the date." Her hand reached up to my face, tucking loose hair behind my ear.

"Everyone's quite frightened for your sake, Y/N. Especially last night... But here you are, recovering." Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds above the bright smile playing across her lips. "I'm so glad to see it."

"Oh," I stuttered, my shoulders tensing. "Er – um, yeah."

That woman gave me the heebie jeebies. Even with her kindness, her beauty, and her motherly...ness... Something about the way she looked at me resonated more with Mr. Crabs looking at money than a mother looking at a child. It took everything I had not to yell, "Back, heathen!" and brandish the nearest weapon I could get my hands on.

Rising to her feet in a single, graceful movement, the woman turned to the door. "I'm going to go check up on the other children, now. Will you be alright on your own?"

I tried not to jump at the chance to get her to leave. "Yes, I'll be fine."

Now get out of here, demon! Back, back!

"Very well."

As the door clicked shut, and the sound of her heeled boots tapping against the floor receded, I flopped back down into bed, and pushed my hands over my face.

I couldn't deny how... coherent everything felt. How much sense it made, how much detail there was... Everything about the experience made me more unsure by the second it was a dream. But no matter! You have other problems at hand, Y/N! I said to myself, smacking my hands against my cheeks. For one thing...

Everything here certainly looked like it was Grace Field, from what I remembered – but that woman, while dressed in the mother's uniform, was not Isabella, nor Krone, for that matter. But the date was September, 2045... Almost a month before the anime started. My hand slipped over my mouth as my brow furrowed in concentration. "Then, it's another plant? If so, which one...?"

But wait, figuring that out doesn't matter if I'm about to wake up! I kicked at the blankets in annoyance, swinging back into a seated position. Squinting, my head turned to the young arm at my side. Then, in a moment of sheer brilliance, I pinched it as hard as I could. "Mother trucker!" I seethed. "Fuck!"

The door to the infirmary swung open suddenly, revealing a handful of smiling young faces. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I froze in place. Oops...

My eyes flicked to the leader of the group; a taller girl with almond-shaped eyes, coloured an intelligent grey, hidden behind the circle-lens of her glasses. Her ebony hair was pulled back into a smooth ponytail, sweeping loose strands framing her soft, tan face. "We heard from mom that you were feeling better," she said with a voice that felt like a gentle caress. "So we came to pay you a visit."

"Y/N!" The smallest of the group pushed through the door, running up to my bed. Along with a day-brightening smile, the girl had amber-coloured eyes that sparkled like the gem. Her round cheeks were of rosy, dark complexion, contrasting greatly against her white uniform, and her thick black hair was pulled back into two playful puffy twin buns. "You're all better?"

I gave a brief nod, sitting hunched on the bed. "Uh...Yeah."

"Is that so?" The girl who spoke had a face coloured a light fawny beige, splattered with freckles across either cheek. Her strawberry-blonde hair was pulled into two long twin braids, and blunt bangs hung above her blue eyes, which were marbled like a turquoise stone. "Ya ready to go back to takin' the tests, then?"

My face contorted suddenly into an expression crossed somewhere between disgust and fear, causing the elder girl to snicker. Right, I mused drily, this is Grace Field. In order to avoid having my ass literally ate by demons, I'm gonna have to take – and pass – the hellish daily tests.

Well! That's an image I didn't need in my life.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," reassured a soft-spoken boy I hadn't noticed, tucked by the open doorway. I all but short-circuited as I laid eyes on him, for with dark chestnut hair, pale freckled skin, and deep ocean-blue eyes, he looked almost exactly like Leslie. Isabella's first love? The one who wrote the lullaby? Who should be dead!?

Did I hear the date wrong, or what? My eyes trailed to the hallway despite myself, as I half-expected a younger Isabella to pop out of it, insulting my intelligence and threatening to ship me out with a picture-perfect smile.

The youngest girl doesn't seem to notice my distraction, as her buns bounce along with her heels agains the floor. "Right? 'Cause Y/N always does great on the tests!"

I choked on my will to live, which greatly dissipating by the second. "Huh!?"

"What, ya got amnesia or somethin'?" The strawberry-blonde girl flicked my forehead. "Little top-scorer!" she said mockingly. "The one-and-only best in the house, ever! Y'know ma's always tellin' us to be more like you – And that's why you started helping out the older kids with our studying. Everyone's scores improved lately..."

She rested her elbow atop my head, leaning back onto me, as her cheeks puffed out in a dejected sigh. "That's why you being bedridden is such a pain... I started needing to take lessons from Reina, of all people!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" the elder girl with glasses – Reina, apparently – raised an eyebrow. "You have a problem with my lessons, Poppy?"

Poppy poorly hid her fear with a nervous smile, as her fingers flew to her braids, fidgeting with them absently. "Nothing, Reina, you're a great help!"

The youngest one started bouncing on her heels again, her bright voice breaking through the tension. "Hey, hey, Y/N, did'ja hear? Reina started scoring in the 240s! She's gonna catch up to you, soon!"

"Don't forget me!" Poppy propped her hands on her hips, head tilting to the sky proudly. "Guess who hit 230s, yesterday! Hayato was upset I made it there first..."

"Daisy, too," Reina added. "She scored her first 140 last week. And Chris back there actually made it to the 170s."

Daisy appeared to be the youngest one by my bed, and Chris the Leslie-lookalike. Both flushed at the praise, Daisy with an excited giggle, Chris bowing away and tucking his chin in his collar.

"Everyone worked hard to improve while you were sick," Reina continued, pushing her glasses up on her nose, "So they could surprise you once you were better... So make sure you finish recovering as soon as possible."

The mother stepped in through the open door. "Alright everybody, clear out. Visiting time is over!"

"But mama..."

As the other kids filtered out, Poppy leaned by my bed. "Don't worry about losing your perfect streak," she whispered it like a cheeky secret, "Y'know, it'd make me look cooler to the younger kids!"

"That means you too, Poppy!"

"Yes, ma!" With a final wink in my direction, Poppy skipped after the other kids, who bid me goodbye with a final wave.

"See you later!"

Once they were good and gone, the mother completed a quick checkup of my vitals and health. She brewed some tea, gave me vitamins, and then told me to rest for the remainder of the day so I'd be in good condition for the tests tomorrow. I asked on a whim if she could provide me with a bit of material to study to pass the time and prepare myself, and she replied with a smile, "Of course!"

Hey now, I may not have been one for studying, but hell if I was going to embarrass myself tomorrow (or die again, for that matter), without even trying.

As such, I passed the day reading what she'd given me; mostly textbooks filled with complex formulas and methods I hadn't seen in most of my years of school. While most of the content was dedicated to every math equation known to man, there was also material on language, science, geography, and whatever other tidbits of knowledge they could cram inside.

I was expecting to be entirely lost within the minute, but strangely, as I flipped through page after page after page, I found the questions felt like a refresher. It was instinctual, as if I'd done it all hundred times before; like dusting off cobwebs from my mind and returning to a former clarity. But this level of clarity – this level of intelligence – was not something I was accustomed to in the slightest.

Goosebumps trailed my arms. Creepy... Am I a freak of nature, now?

Night settled over the house like a blanket, as the constant ambient noise of the house died down into something more subdued. As the mother, also called Yukko, checked on my vitals one last time to find me fully recovered, she had asked to return to my regular room as night fell. On the way, I decided to confirm one last suspicion of mine.

I moved carefully down the stairs, stepping close to the edge to avoid nary a creak – let's just say I was experienced in moving around silently at night, even if it was usually for an unpermitted midnight snack.

My feet carried me to where I wanted to go without much consideration, as a layout of the house expanded in my mind like a multi-dimensional map. It was like seeing from every angle all at once; a somewhat trippy sort of experience, adding to the alien feeling of this mind I now inhabited. But somehow, again, though it was a foreign way of thinking, of living, to some part of my mind it felt familiar: I still felt accustomed to it.

I located the bathroom on the first floor, a room containing a multitude and sinks and mirrors. The only sounds present in the otherwise silent house were the occasional creaks and groans of the victorian-style building, as wind blew across closed shutters and children upstairs shifted in their sleep. My soft boots shuffled quietly against the floor as I approached my reflection, my stomach sinking all the while.

The face in the mirror was not my own.

It was a face made innocent with the roundness of youth, as a splash of pink colour dashing cheeks and lips making an otherwise pale face rosy. The hair was almost as light as snow, parted to the side, untrimmed bangs falling near the tip of the straight nose. Even the teeth, I noticed as I pulled back my lips, were perfectly coloured and aligned. 

Out of the whole face, the eyes were by far the most striking feature. They were doe-like and guileless in shape, but the irises, in contrast, were piercing: coloured a cold, intelligent ice blue.

For a moment, the face was full of childlike wonder; a look that suited its features well. But in my hands the perfection was short-lived, as the expression twisted into something rather unbefitting; a twinkle in the eyes that was mocking and cynical.

Oh shit, I'm just looking at a young Norman if he grew all his hair out.

Wait. Norman. My fingers reached up to my bangs as my eyes squinted, my lips pursing together nervously. Please, no fivehead, please, please... I pushed back the hair, slowly peeking through my lashes. Oh thank god. Just a forehead. Not a small one, but a forehead.

That was a small victory, even if right off the bat whatever astral-whatever experience I was having was going to hell. I mean, not only was I in the wrong plant at Grace Field, I had to live up to the expectations of full-scores. Not even that was enough, I now bore the (admittedly adorable) baby face of a Norman lookalike instead of my own.

How the hell was I supposed to live-laugh-love under these conditions?

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