I woke up to the sensual feeling of two soft, warm mounds squished against my face. Instinctively, I reached for them, only to realize that I had no arms. I sighed.

'Not again.'

Opening my eyes, my disappointment was only reinforced by the realization that I was nudging my face against two blue blobs, rather than what I had hoped for. Hey, I’m 19 and dead, alright? Who knows when a dead college student will ever get the chance to feel them melons again. Not that I have before.

That said, I still don't really remember how I died. All I can recall was that I was arguing with someone. Ah... I'm getting a headache just thinking about it.

Beyond the two blobs in front of me, were more of the same, although of different colors. It was kind of like looking at rolling hills of blue, green, red, and brown jellies.

I tried to will myself to move around, but to no avail. Instead, I became rather tired, and my eyes started to droop.

'I just woke up though.... Fuck this accursed body.'

After coming to, I discovered that I could look around without actually moving my body. I don't really understand it, but I imagined that my eyes could glide along my body to change my field of view. The sensation was nauseating at first, but that was the least of my problems.

The jellies in front of me seemed to be alive. Breathing, living things. If I had to equate them to something that I had prior knowledge of, it would probably be classified as a 'slime'. You know, those round, blob like monsters you see in RPG games. Since I'm in the middle of a bunch of them, does this mean that I'm a slime too?

I wouldn't really mind. The slimes around me were really cute. What color was I? Bah, useless thoughts.

That might explain why my body tires way too bloody fast, no matter what I am doing. Perhaps it's because all slimes are this way? I kept passing out every few seconds, and it took at least fifteen cycles of observing and fainting to get a decent sense of where I was.

It seemed that I was in a large, glass tank with these other slimes at some sort of pet shop. Lovey-dovey couples visited from time to time, picked up a few of my fellow brethren, and left with them grinning. Wait, am I getting this wrong? We aren’t some kind of delicacy here, are we?

I imagine that it's been about a week since I've been here. To my relief, I'm able to stay awake longer and longer these days. None of my fellow slimes demonstrated an ounce of intelligence, and chose to laze around sleeping. Then again, that's all I did too.

At least the owner fed us pretty well. Some sort of white pasty goop that looked nasty but tasted like a goddess’s divine water. Well, 'taste', in a manner of speaking. The nutrients in the food just seemed to disperse throughout my body, and as it dissolved, something in my core tingled with pleasure. I assumed that this would be my 'nucleus', like the ones I saw in the other slimes’ translucent bodies.

Also, I discovered out that the 'adult' couples who visited this shop were actually slimes too. About half of them came in their blob form while the other half did so in their human form. I've seen them transform between the two, but for all intents and purposes it seemed like it was a matter of preference and utility. For example, I could imagine that having a hand would improve one's performance with a sword, or with a sewing needle.

Anyway, the fact that everyone is a slime increased the chance that I was in some sort of adoption center, rather than a pet shop.

A particular couple has visited over the last few days to spend time with me. There was an area in the room where couples could sit on the floor and play with the baby slimes. Like always, they picked me up gleefully and took me over to this 'play area'. Today makes the fifth day they've harassed me in a row.

The endless barrage of squishing and poking was bad enough, but they also insisted on feeding me themselves. That white mush that they'd been feeding us? Turned out to be predigested berry mix. I had mixed feelings because it was disgusting, but it also tasted pretty darn good.

The woman who barfed on me just now was a gorgeous, busty lady with long, auburn hair and crimson skin. She came wearing a dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal the entrance to her cavernous bosoms. She appeared to be in her late twenties, and had an annoying, boisterous laugh that would wake me up whenever I fell asleep. I presumed that she had some sort of physically active hobby or occupation, as was suggested by the toned, firm muscles on her arms. When she held me up, I saw that her iris matched the color of her skin, and her pupils were shaped like a crossed hammer and sword.

Her partner was a petite woman with short, pale blue hair that fell over her eyes. She came wearing a white summer dress. I liked her much better than the other one. Reserved and mature, she would put me on her lap and hum a soft tune that would lull me to sleep as she stroked my head. With beautiful azure eyes that matched her blue skin, and a pupil shaped like a star, she was the spitting image of a 'calm beauty'.

These two love birds were particularly beaming today, as they spoke to me excitedly in some foreign language. It seemed to be a common tongue shared by the slimes, and I couldn't make heads or tails of what they were saying. I recognized two words, though. Yunshult~, which seemed to be a sort of greeting, and Keiiiiii, which was probably along the lines of 'cute'. I just hoped it didn't mean 'looks delicious!' How should I know? Maybe slimes are cannibalistic.

Pondering these thoughts sleepily, I nodded off as I was carried out of the adoption center, hoping that I wouldn't wake up on a grill.

For the last six months, I grew up under the care of my new moms, slowly absorbing their language and customs by listening and watching. It was hellishly difficult and frustrating, especially considering that I still couldn’t move by my own will. The most that I could manage was to roll a few millimeters in one direction, and even that would exhaust me to the point where I would have to take a nap.

I learned that my name was Belly Jelly. To my relief, however, my moms called me Bell.

The house we lived in was simple and built of stone and wood. The main area sported a carpeted living room furnished with two sofas and a continuously lit fireplace, where I spent most of my day. The other area was a separate room that served as a temporary workshop for my busty mother, Jean.

Jean worked as a full-time blacksmith for the Kingdom. She would often put a faceshield on me (which covered my entire body) and place me on a stool behind her to let me watch her hammer away at the anvil to produce different knives, swords, shields, and armor. Every time she finished a piece, she would hold it out for me to see, and start blabbing about how amazing it was. She was tenacious and focused when working, a stark contrast to her silly and rambunctious personality. Although she was a little annoying, I had to admit that her work was exceptional.

My other mother, Ellie, was a mysterious woman. She would spend most of her time reading complicated looking books in front of the fireplace, sometimes letting me sit on her lap while she did so. Sometimes, though, she would disappear for days at a time and return with countless scratches and bruises on her arms and her face that Jean would tend to immediately, nagging her that she should be more careful. On those days, she wore a weary smile that worried me a little. Seeing my expression though, she would cuddle me and tell me that she was okay.

Sometimes, Jean and Ellie would take me outside to get some fresh air. Our home was situated in one of the most beautiful lakeside villages that I have ever seen, and was apparently on the outskirts of the grand city of Faeris. Our village was small, and was primarily an agricultural area for Yaksha plants. The market was therefore bountiful with the freshest berries, and the old grannies always seemed to want to give us discounts for being locals.

As for payment, the currency system was based on rare metals shaped like the leaves of the Yaksha plant. One hundred copper leaves was the same value as one silver leaf, and ten silver leaves equaled one gold leaf. With the cheap price of Yaksha berries at 1 copper leaf per bunch, it seemed that a family of four could easily survive off around 5 gold leaves per year.

We frequently visited the local pond where other baby slimes between the ages of 2 and 4 years old would be playing with their parents. Because I was too young, we often just sat on the benches watching the children slide down the water fountain or spit at each other playfully. It was a beautiful, serene sight to behold.

I'm sure my moms were wondering when I would be able to join them. I was wondering about that too. Being able to move like them, that is. I resolved to learn how to do so as soon as possible. In this world, at least, I wanted to become capable of taking care of myself.

I've thought about slime movement long and hard over the past few weeks. How come it's so difficult? Well, watching those kids play in the pool gave me a small clue.

Rather than roll or glide, as I was trying to do, some of them would extend a part of their body, plant it into the ground, and drag the rest of their body forward. It was so simple and intuitive, and yet elusive for someone who wasn't exactly born with slime instincts.

I was sitting on the living room carpet, where Jean left me to go forge some weapons in the workshop. Ellie was outside doing laundry. I concentrated on pushing a part of my body forward, conjuring a mental image of myself as a white blood cell extending its pseudopod. Slowly but surely, I felt a small, wobbly bump protrude out. Stretching it further and further, I started to sweat from the strain. Eventually, it touched the ground in front of me, and I tried to drag the rest of my body forward with great effort.

I moved about one centimeter. Progress! Gritting my metaphorical teeth, I tried to extend two pseudopods simultaneously instead of one, and found it immensely more difficult to do. Not only was the process taxing mentally, but I was quickly getting exhausted physically. Before I was able to even touch the ground with my two pseudopods, I fainted.

When I woke up, I tried to do it again but with thinner pseudopods on either side, kind of like the poles used for cross country skiing. This was much easier to visualize, and the effort to form these thinner protrusions was reduced. Moreover, having two arms to pull myself forward with was much more effective, propelling me forward almost a full ten centimeters. I tried doing it once more for good measure, and ended up fainting.

Waking up, testing out different ways of moving forward, and fainting. The cycle repeated itself for weeks, but the only thing that I improved in was manipulating my little pseudopods. I could now wiggle them in the air without fainting. However, actually moving was a different story. Efficient movement definitely involved dragging myself forwards. What was I missing?

A month later, I made a breakthrough. The key was center of gravity! By manipulating my center of gravity, I could propel myself forwards after I placed my first pseudopod on the ground. This reduced the amount of energy I spent moving, and increased the speed at which I could do so multiple times over.

I went to show Jean my progress.

Bursting through the open door, I realized that I moving way too fast. I closed my eyes and I braced myself to crash into the workshop bench.

Thump.

'Owie....'

"Bell?!?!?!"

Jean's anxious exlamation surprised and annoyed me. Why was she so loud? I just hit my head after al--

Drip. Drip.

Eh? What is this... blood?

Horrified, I looked up to see Jean's hand clasped tightly around the hot blade of a new knife, which had fallen down due to my crash. Hurriedly setting it down on a stable surface, she turned back to me and rubbed the spot on my head where I had slammed into the table.

"Bell, are you okay?"

I was ashamed, realizing that I had hurt my own mother because of my stupidity. I was also worried about her injury. The cut looked pretty serious, and the burn was no joke. I wigged my pseudopods in the air desperately to tell her that she should treat it.

"I'm okay, Bell. My hand will heal in no time. Ha, my son's only eight months old and already moving about like that. Bell, I'm so proud of you! We're going to have a huge celebration today with your mom and I, okay?"

Jean beamed at me. My brain was suddenly overloaded with worry, guilt, and grief…

...Huh?

***Flashback Start***

"Mom, shut up!"

"John, where are you going?"

I grabbed my luggage angrily and stomped out the front door.

My parents didn't understand my feelings. They didn't love me enough to let me become a musician, which I have wanted to do since I was 13 years old. Instead, they would rather chain me down and force me to be their ideal son, a lawyer. I was going to pave my own way in life!

"JOHNNNN!!!!!"

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEECH-- THUNK.

Pain erupted from every muscle in my body as it was tossed into the air like a mannequin and contorted as I hit the concrete road again and again. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck IT HURTS. Ah... I'm going to die. Fuck. Strange. I thought I felt a hand on my back before I hit the truck.... Wait. Who's that lying over there? She looks familiar. She looks like-- No. No. Fuck. No. NO. NO NO NO NO NO!

"M...mo--mom... keuk... MOOOOOOOOOM...!"

***Flashback End***

All of these memories hit me like a truck, and I just sat there, silently crying.

I was the selfish son who killed his mom.

Why was I given a second life?

I didn't deserve to live.

I killed my mom. And I left my dad to suffer through the death of both his loved ones.

I knew all along that the reason why they were arguing with me was because they loved me. They probably didn't want me to become another one of those failed musicians that they knew about. I was just so stubborn, and ignored everything they were saying. What right did someone like me have to live?

What right did someone like me have to have another caring mother, who would protect me without a moment of hesitation at the cost of her own hand? It was unfair to everyone else. I should just di--

Huggggggggggg.

…

'...Mom?'

"I love you, son."

The shell that housed me in darkness shattered, and I broke down in tears. I cried for my mom who died trying to save me, and my dad who would have to live with the consequences of my actions. I wailed in the arms of the mom who took me in and loved me like her own.

Hearing the commotion, Ellie ran into the house and was shocked to see what happened, but when Jean looked at her with a sheepish grin, Ellie smiled knowingly. The three of us sat there hugging each other while I cried myself to sleep.

I made a decision that day. There was nothing I could do to change the past. I would move forward, but I would never forget. I made a promise to myself that I would become a better person in this new life.

To learn from my mistakes and to throw my selfishness away.

To care, and to love.

Because we are family.