“Reborn in Another World to Become an Idol: A Tale of Miracles and Bonds Woven Through Song”

The fading afternoon sunlight streamed softly through the white curtains.

Shion Amamiya lay quietly in her hospital bed, eyes gently closed.

The IV machine ticked with mechanical precision, and the monitor beside her showed a faint green line, pulsing like a whisper.

A magazine rested between her frail fingertips.

On its cover, a radiant smile beamed—that of the dazzling top idol, Luna Nanase.

(Luna-chan… you’re shining so brightly today, too…)

She barely had the strength left to turn the pages.

And yet, just looking at Luna’s photo somehow made it a little easier to breathe.

Singing on stage, dancing with joy, those unwavering eyes—

All of it felt like a distant dream, forever out of reach.

Precisely because of that, it became her dream.

She could do nothing but watch that brilliance from afar. But even so…

“If only… someday… I could make someone… smile too…”

It was a faint whisper, so brittle it could vanish with the wind—

A wish she had held deep in her heart since childhood.

But reality had always been merciless.

Born with a congenital heart condition, she couldn’t even go outside freely,

let alone stand on a stage or hold a microphone in her hands.

She never attended school. The hospital and her family’s smiles were her entire world.

Even so—she had been saved by music.

Songs were the light that flickered in her solitude.

On nights when she couldn’t sleep, on days when the pain felt unbearable—

As long as Luna Nanase’s voice filled the room, she could endure even the days she wanted to cry.

So if she could become that kind of presence for someone else—

even just a little—

even if it was only for one person—

if she could bring peace to a single heart, that alone would be enough.

(But… maybe it’s too late now…)

Suddenly, her chest tightened sharply.

She couldn’t breathe. Her throat trembled. Her vision began to blur.

“M…Mom…”

She thought she felt someone holding her hand—

the warmth of her mother’s touch.

But she could no longer speak. She could no longer see.

Even when she opened her eyes, all she saw was the sterile white ceiling

and the red line of the heart monitor.

Then, just for a moment—that line stretched flat.

And in that instant, beyond the ceiling, she saw a glimmer of light.

The twinkle of a star—Luna Nanase’s smile.

A gentle radiance, as if whispering, “Thank you.”

And so, Shion Amamiya’s consciousness quietly faded away.

In her final breath, her lips moved slightly.

A last “song” that no one would ever hear.

Wrapped in a darkness as warm and soft as feathers,

she felt cradled by peace—a nostalgic warmth surrounding her.

(…Where am I…?)

Deep within the fading fragments of awareness,

she could barely remember who she was.

Her name, her form—all slipping away.

But the tremble in her voice from that final song still lingered.

Far away, someone was calling.

Something was about to change.

The world had begun to stir.

◇

That day, the air inside the grand estate of House Elstaria, a noble family in the royal capital Selenaria, was filled with tension.

No cries had come from the newborn.

“The lady’s condition is critical…!”

“Her heartbeat is weakening!”

“The child… isn’t breathing either…!”

Midwives shouted to one another, as the priests layered healing spells and prayers again and again.

Even so, it wasn’t enough.

There was no cry. The mother remained unconscious.

And then—

A single “sound” was born.

—Gently, like a sigh.

It was a faint tremor, like someone’s breath.

Not enough to stir the eardrums, and yet unmistakably heard.

“…Just now… did you hear something…?”

One of the midwives murmured.

In that moment, as though light had poured in, the air within the room shifted.

◇

“She’s born…!”

A hoarse voice echoed through the room, followed by a collective breath of relief.

But in the next instant, everyone froze.

The newborn—this tiny life—made no sound.

Her eyes were shut, her breath faint… almost imperceptible.

“She’s still… hanging on…!”

A young priest continued chanting desperately, pouring magic into the child.

The mother, Arietta, had lost consciousness as well. Her pale forehead was damp with sweat.

Then—

A small “sound” was born in the hushed room.

“…ah…”

Too faint to be called a voice, too gentle to be a cry.

But still—unmistakably, a sign of life.

The baby took in a small breath and slowly opened her eyes.

In her gaze shimmered a deep violet hue—like stars reflected in water.

And her softly glowing hair—

“…S-Silver…?”

Everyone in the room gasped.

Her father, Clavis Elstaria, lifted the child into trembling arms.

His expression held confusion, awe—and emotions far deeper than words could convey.

“This hair… it’s like the spirit of snow…”

In the Elstaria bloodline, rich chestnut or golden hair had been passed down for generations.

Arietta herself possessed lustrous golden locks.

But the child’s hair resembled neither parent’s—

It was foreign, yet shimmering with otherworldly beauty: pure silver.

“…Could this be… from her attribute…?”

A troubling thought flickered in Clavis’s mind.

A magical gift? A mutation? Divine blessing—or something else entirely?

◇

“Arietta!”

When Clavis turned back, Arietta’s eyelids fluttered faintly.

The maids immediately rushed over to cast healing magic.

“…It can’t be… I…”

Seeing the small life held gently against her chest, Arietta burst into tears.

“…Thank goodness… she’s alive…”

Both mother and child—had returned from the very brink of death.

◇

Several hours later, in the quiet of a now-peaceful bedroom,

Clavis and Arietta sat together, deciding on a name for their daughter.

“…What should we name her?”

“Let’s call her Shion. Like a flower that blooms gently in the stillness of morning.”

As Arietta whispered the name, the tiny newborn seemed to smile—just for a moment,

as if responding to her mother’s voice.

“…Yes. I’m certain this child… carries something special.”

Whether it was a blessing, or perhaps—

Clavis did not yet know.

That one day, this girl would become a being who could change the world through her song.

From the moment Shion was born, the seasons began to turn gently.

In the vast estate of the Elstaria Marquisate, time flowed with a quiet richness.

But the air within it—was slowly beginning to change.

At the center of it all was a child who did not yet know words—

Shion.

◇

The first to sense the change was the eldest daughter, Lyrica.

At three years old, she was the most delighted by her new baby sister’s birth, and would come peeking into the cradle every single day.

“Look, Father! Shion grabbed my finger again!”

Her innocent smile shone like a treasure. Just holding her sister’s tiny hand made her eyes sparkle with joy.

Meanwhile, their eldest son—Reat, age five—

was already beginning his education to become the future head of the household.

At first, he showed little interest in his newborn sister.

“She just cries all the time. That’s it…”

He would mutter such things.

But one day, when he absentmindedly extended a finger—

Shion’s tiny hand suddenly wrapped around it.

At that moment, Reat’s eyes widened in surprise.

Then, ever so slightly, a small smile formed on his lips.

“…Well, I guess she’s not so bad.”

That was the beginning of something—

the beginning of their bond as a family.

◇

But soon, the family began to notice.

Shion… wasn’t quite “ordinary.”

Though only a few months old, she reacted to sound in a way that was unusually intense.

The chirping of birds outside the window.

The wind brushing through the hallways.

Even when a maid hummed a casual tune, Shion would make small sounds in response, swaying gently.

“Ah… nn… fuu…”

Her voice didn’t sound like that of a typical baby.

They weren’t words—not even close.

Yet the sounds held a kind of resonance, as if they were responding to something, as if echoing with awareness.

“…Is she… singing…?”

One of the maids whispered the thought aloud.

And in that moment, the air in the room seemed to soften—just a little.

◇

There was another strange phenomenon: her sensitivity to emotion.

One day, a viscountess—a friend of Arietta’s—came to visit the estate with her young daughter, who was around Shion’s age.

While they played, the little girl tripped and bumped her head.

“Oh dear… she’s started crying.”

Just as the maids moved to help, little Shion tottered over to her.

With wobbly steps, she reached out and gently touched the crying girl’s cheek—for only a few seconds.

“…Wait, why did she stop crying?”

“She was sobbing just a moment ago… but as soon as Lady Shion touched her, she smiled.”

Some even claimed the pain of the bump faded the moment Shion’s small hand touched her.

Still, no one wanted to acknowledge it.

They brushed it off as “a coincidence,” or “just their imagination.”

Because—there was something about that child.

The air around her felt too sacred to accept as ordinary.

◇

One day, Father Clavis sat in his study, poring over books on medical science and magical theory.

There were a few ancient records of cases where magic responded not to incantations, but to pure emotion.

But all of them had been treated either as “saints”… or as “heretics.”

“…If this power becomes known, it won’t end peacefully.”

Clavis murmured softly.

It would be exploited for political schemes, swallowed up by the Church, or perhaps—

“Some are even… disposed of in secret.”

Such cases were rare exceptions—kept hidden even among the royal family and high nobility.

◇

That night, Clavis and Arietta stood before their daughter and made a vow.

“This child’s power… must never be revealed.”

In Arietta’s eyes shone the light of a deep, quiet prayer.

“No matter how precious it may be…

I just want her to have an ordinary, peaceful life.”

Clavis nodded silently, then held his hand over an old sealing crest beside him.

“Let everyone in this room swear the Oath of Silence. Swear to protect this secret—at all costs.”

The little girl, asleep in her mother’s arms, breathed gently.

Her breath, softer than any lullaby, was calm and deep—

like a quiet song, cradled in peace.

◇

The next morning, as the window was opened wide, the trees in the garden swayed in the breeze.

And to the rustling of the leaves, little Shion smiled faintly in her sleep.

Watching her smile, one of the maids whispered softly:

“…She’s like a spirit of sound.”

Hearing that, Arietta also returned a soft, gentle smile.

Her daughter’s silver hair shimmered in the sunlight—

and swayed quietly, as if in rhythm with the music of the morning.

Bathed in that gentle light, Arietta held her daughter close at the window.

The baby’s breathing was steady, like a lullaby echoing faintly against her mother’s chest.

But the essence dwelling in this tiny life—

was something that had never existed in their bloodline before.

◇

The Elstaria family had, for generations, inherited hair of deep chestnut or soft golden hues.

Clavis, Arietta, their eldest son Liet, and their daughter Lilica all bore that lineage proudly.

But—this child was different.

The newborn’s hair was a faint, translucent silver.

Each time it caught the sunlight, it shimmered like moonlight—pure silvery white.

“…She’s like a child of a snow spirit.”

Arietta whispered as she gently stroked the baby’s hair.

The texture beneath her fingers was so delicate, so ethereal, it felt as if it might melt away at any moment.

◇

“Mother, why is Shion’s hair white?”

When Lilica tilted her head and asked, Arietta hesitated for just a moment.

“…Well, perhaps because it’s a miracle.”

“A… miracle?”

“Yes. A color so special, there’s only one in the whole world.

So it’s okay, even if she doesn’t look like anyone else.”

Lilica seemed satisfied, murmured, “Hmm,” then smiled brightly.

“Then Shion is my most precious little sister!”

◇

Clavis, however, viewed his daughter’s color from a different perspective.

Silver—was a hue that belonged to no known bloodline in this world.

Clavis bore the fire attribute, Arietta the wind.

While rare, there were cases where a child inherited a hair color different from either parent due to magical disposition.

But—this silver had never, to their knowledge, been seen or recorded before.

“…I’ve never seen it. This color… it may truly belong to only one person in the world.”

Clavis’s voice trembled slightly.

To be too special was to stand out—and that alone could draw unwanted attention.

Sometimes, that attention turned not into praise, but into fear… or prejudice.

(This child’s life must never be defined by her color alone.)

“…She may carry an extraordinary disposition.”

A quiet unease flickered across Clavis’s thoughts.

The royal palace, the Church, the nobility—

Those who stood out too much were sometimes treated not with curiosity, but as aberrations.

And yet—

At that moment.

When light flickered just before her birth.

The sound—one no one else had heard—had shaken his very soul.

“…Shion… what burden were you born to carry?”

◇

Even so, Clavis never let go of her hand.

The gaze he cast upon his daughter held no doubt—only unwavering resolve.

“No matter who she may be… she is my daughter.”

Those were not the words of a marquis, but of a father—pure and absolute.

◇

One night, Arietta gently touched Shion’s hair as she slept and whispered to her husband.

“You know… I really love her hair.”

“…Yeah. So do I.”

“Precisely because it doesn’t resemble ours, it feels even more special.

It’s like… the gods chose a different way to tie her life to ours.”

“…You’re strong.”

“No. I’ve simply become a mother. If it’s for her smile, I could do anything.”

◇

When Clavis heard those words, it felt as though a fog that had lingered in his heart slowly began to clear.

Being “different” was not something to fear.

Not “resembling” anyone wasn’t something to be anxious about.

—It was proof that this child had come into their lives.

◇

And then, Shion smiled softly in her sleep.

She was too young to understand words or form memories.

Yet her smile was so gentle, it felt as if she had heard her parents’ words—like a quiet blessing.

Her silvery hair swayed gently like moonlight.

The following spring, on the occasion of her first birthday, a blessing ceremony was held at the church, following the traditions of the Elstaria house.

Time passed quietly, wrapped in the warmth of family.

As night fell and the gentle glow of lamps lit the halls of the marquis’ estate, Clavis Elstaria stood by the window of his study, gazing out into the garden.

The spring breeze softly stirred the curtains.

What had been a pleasant wind during the day now carried a faint chill with the setting sun.

But what filled his heart was something deeper.

—What color will her future hold?

When he closed his eyes, he could still hear her first cry.

A daughter who was born at the edge of death, whose very existence was a miracle.

And that silvery hair—a color unlike any other in the world.

Every time he touched her hair, a ripple stirred in his chest.

He had to protect her. From everything.

“Clavis.”

Arietta quietly opened the door, holding the already-sleeping Shion in her arms.

Their eyes lowered at the same moment to her peaceful breaths.

“…No one knows about her hair yet,” Clavis said.

“The servants have been told to remain silent. No portrait artist has painted her.”

“Thank you. …But one day, we won’t be able to hide it anymore.”

“I know. Still… just for now…”

Clavis’s voice trembled faintly.

“I swore it that day—I won’t let her life be defined by her color.”

That was his battle—as a father.

“I feel the same,” Arietta replied, standing beside him and gently placing her hand on their daughter’s silvery hair.

No one yet knew what she would become.

But one thing was certain—

She was Clavis and Arietta’s daughter.

The pride of House Elstaria.

And the very embodiment of their future.

“Good night, Shion…”

Their voices blended into the night like a quiet lullaby.

In the stillness, her silver hair shimmered faintly.

But it was only the moonlight.

A pure, untouched glow—still without meaning in this world.

Time passed, and by the time Shion turned three, the courtyard of the estate had become her “little world.”

A garden of red and blue flowers.

Tracing the edge of the fountain with her steps, Shion hummed softly to herself.

It was a strange tune—one no one had taught her.

Her voice drifted through the garden, as if dancing with the wind.

“You’re singing all by yourself again, aren’t you?”

A smiling servant called out, and Shion quickly looked up.

“…Yeah. The flowers were so pretty.”

“You really do love to sing. Just like a wind spirit.”

No one had taught her. Yet somehow, she had learned songs.

Arietta, a wind-attribute mage, was once said to have healing power in her voice when she was young.

But the songs her daughter sang carried a different tone.

Softer. Warmer.

A mysterious sound, as if gently wrapping around the listener.

“Shion,”

Hearing her mother’s voice, she ran over with small steps.

As she was lifted into her mother’s arms, her eyes crinkled with joy.

“Your voice is truly… gentle.”

Being called by name.

Smiled at.

Walking hand in hand.

That was Shion’s everyday life.

She still had few friends.

But when noble children visited the estate, she would shyly but eagerly try to speak to them.

She would softly call their names, hum a tune, and pick flowers together.

“Shion’s a bit different, but… she’s really kind.”

“Yeah, I like her songs.”

Those words meant the world to her.

A small world.

Limited encounters.

Even so—something warm always flickered in her heart.

(Someday… I want more people to hear my songs.)

That thought began to take root quietly in her young heart.

And so, I—

Let go of the name from my former world.

Took up my new name, Shion Elstaria.

And in this world where I knew no words yet—

I took my first breath.