The first nurse—of European origin, with blonde hair and greenish eyes—mistakes Lee’s shock for surprise. She asks in Japanese, “Hello Lee, I’m Nurse Fionna. What’s wrong? Have you never seen or heard of the Rexians, like Nurse Raxen?” She finishes by looking at the other nurse.

  Lee smiles, then admits shyly, “No, I have never seen one before, but I have heard of them.” He then looks at the nurse with the tail, then back to the human nurse. “But I read that they are an intense green or brown colour.”

  Noticing that Lee is acting normally, Nurse Fionna approaches to perform some examinations while she continues speaking. “That is common for full Rexians,” she says with a nod. Glancing at Raxen, she adds, “But Nurse Raxen is only a partial Rexian. She has human DNA too, which is why she is light green over a pinkish base.”

  “Okay, I understand now,” Lee says. He then, for some reason, feels the need to think about what to say so as not to sound older than his actual age. “So, is one of her parents human and the other Rexian?”

  Nurse Raxen nods with an acknowledging smile.

  “That’s very good,” Nurse Fionna says, as she continues checking Lee’s vitals. “Now, she doesn’t speak much Japanese, but she understands. But what about you, young man? How are you feeling?”

  Lee is about to speak, then again feels the need to remind himself that he is only five. “I feel okay, but my tummy hurts, and I feel like I have sand in my mouth.” He knows the stomach pain is from hunger and the ‘sand’ is dry blood and thirst, but he also knows that, thanks to the supposed memories of his past life, a five-year-old wouldn’t be able to identify those symptoms so clearly.

  Nurse Raxen taps her watch, makes a clicking sound with her tongue, and hisses.

  Nurse Fionna nods. “You are probably right!” She says to Nurse Raxen, then facing Lee, she says, “Your tummy might hurt because you had a long nap and are hungry. As for the sandy feeling, just drink some water slowly and it will go away.”

  “How big was the nap?” Lee asks. He cringes internally; as somehow he knows the medical term would be ‘coma’.

  “One week,” says a male voice from the door. “Nice to see that you are still awake.” Lee looks over and sees the Asian doctor from before.

  After greeting the doctor, Lee is given a light breakfast: cereal shaped like spaceships and meteors, which tastes like honey and chocolate. On the box are drawings of an anime that somehow, and at the same time, Lee has never seen, but knows is from Galactic Defenders, a popular anime about space rangers fighting crime.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “It’s funny,” Lee thinks as he eats. “This body is starting to feel more like mine. Slowly, I’m stopping feeling like an outsider in someone else's skin.” As he is thinking and looking at the box, the theme tune of the anime pops into his head. “I thought I had never seen this anime, so how do I know the tune?” As he looks at the box, he gets flashbacks of memories from having seen the anime every weekend morning during breakfast.

  A bit after Lee finishes his breakfast, a nurse enters to remove his IV drip. “Very good. Now, your mum and dad will be here soon, but first we need to do a little test to see if your brain is okay.”

  “Why do we need the test first?” Lee asks. He is confused; usually, a parent would be present for a five-year-old’s medical tests.

  The nurse pats the back of Lee’s hand to comfort him. “Don’t worry, it’s early—only three in the morning,” she says, checking her watch. “We called to tell them you have woken up. They’ve been here every day, only leaving at night to go home and sleep.”

  Lee tilts his head, narrowing his eyes. “That doesn’t explain why we can’t wait for my parents before doing the tests!” The maturity from his supposed past life seeps into his tone without him realising.

  The nurse takes a step back. “Like I said, it’s early. The room where the test will be conducted is free now, and we want to make sure everything is alright before they arrive.”

  Lee pauses. “Conducted?” he whispers the word carefully. It is a word he couldn't find in his current five-year-old Japanese vocabulary.

  The nurse nods. “Yes, 'be conducted' means 'to be performed' or 'to be made.' Do you understand now?”

  Lee nods, adding the new word to his mental dictionary. “Thank you for explaining. But is it okay to go to the toilet first?”

  The nurse nods and helps him out of bed, walking beside him to the bathroom. As Lee steps inside, the nurse stays by the door. Lee hears her whisper to someone outside, “He’s not normal. Just now, he sounded much older. I can’t get a read on him.”

  Lee hears a soft male voice, sounding like it is mixed with little bells, replying, “What do you mean? Is there something wrong with him, or is it just due to his young age?”

  “No, it’s like his brain waves are on a different frequency; I just can’t get a proper reading!” the nurse says.

  “So he could be listening to us right now!” the male voice says, sounding panicked.

  “What if he is?” asks the nurse with a superior tone. “He’s only five, and coming from that remote area, it’s not like he would be able to speak English! Or is there a chance that he can?”

  “English?” Lee is too distracted by his own thoughts to listen further to the conversation of the nurse with the mysterious male voice. “That’s right! They are speaking in English. How do I know English?”

  He starts searching his memories and realises the language comes from the time before he was Lee—from his supposed past life. The memories are still blurry, but the language remains. Suddenly, Lee feels something wet. Touching his nose, he sees blood. He wipes it away and gets startled by a knock on the door.

  “Lee, are you okay?” the nurse asks in Japanese, and she sounds concerned.

  Lee flushes the toilet as he replies, “Yes, Nurse, I just finished.” He turns to the sink to wash his face and hands of any trace of blood.