I've noticed that most Reincarnated!OC stories feature the main OC being calm and pretty much okay with their situation, so I wanted to take my hand on an OC story where they are reincarnated but was mentally and psychologically not okay with their situation.

FOREWARNING ;; Soon, the story's rating will change to M. All I need is for you to speak up if the content doesn't suit the T warning. Don't worry, I'll be sure to put up warnings.

EDITED ;; I turned everything to past tense because of some complications. Also, Japanese words, gah. I'm just a noob. Also the phrasing, ugh! Thanks to Singular Poisonous Ashes for their advice the the constructive review!

chapter one

bullies, death, and reincarnation

I remembered a classroom.

I remembered a classroom, with chairs on top of their desks when it was wiped clean, leaving a faint but heavy and sickening smell of bleach in the air.

I remembered seeing myself standing in that lonely classroom.

Maybe it was how the shadows creeped into the playground that was my classroom after hiding in their domain, or maybe it was how the sun was in its crepuscle's wake, auburn and red as it dwelled on the horizon within the blur of the canvas―maybe it was how, coming from the open windows, the air was crisp and cool that sent refreshing shivers in this humid classroom with no means of cooling aid.

From where I was standing, weary eyed and thoughtful of going home, I would love to think that the view was beautiful, but it was marred when footsteps echoed from the hallway, a rhythmic sound that shrieks alarms in my head. A group of smiling classmates stopped by the open door and I knew that there's no salvaging from the fate imposed on me by these cruel humans.

The leader called out with a smirk, throwing a plastic of murky brownish-yellow water up in the air and catching it in his hand.

"Ooooh, if it isn't our beloved Hero! How's your morning this day?"

His fellow goons roared in laughter, faces dark and hollow with grinning white eyes. I vacantly looked at them, no flashes of emotions in my eyes, but I was fiddling with the hem of my sweater as the memories rushed in.

White flowers trapped inside a broken vase was sitting on my vandalized desk, words with a black permanent marker.

I glanced at it and ignored the tidal waves coming in forms of laughters and sunken faces with white smiles and eyes.

「DIE! YOU WORTHLESS SPACE!」

「WHO CARES ABOUT YOU?! USELESS BASTARD」

「STOP TRYING TO BE A HERO YOU FAIL, YOU ALWAYS FAIL」

「WHY DO YOU TRY SO HARD?! NOBODY CARES」

I gulped and hoped to God it wasn't obvious.

"Oh well, why don't we answer that?" Those words beckoned the start of the mayhem as the lackeys behind the leader threw garbages at me.

I closed my eyes when the trashes made impact, paying attention to its smacking sound and never to the heavy pounding of my heart and the echoing laughters, and then I opened my eyes to glanced down at the mess that began to grow in piles around me.

From my position, it looked like I was looking down on the garbages.

Stop it. I admonished myself.

Don't look at the garbages like you are above them. You are just worthless like them, growing in piles and rotting away just like everyone because you are like them, like us, like the humans we are, so despicable when we can't see the fragility of life.

I pursed my lips, shriveling my heart into pieces because it is better to not feel at this moment. I made my way to the locker for a black garbage bag, only to stopped when something wet hit me.

Opening my eyes that were instinctually closed when the murky water exploded on me, I looked at the group that were laughing, laughing, laughing.

"THE STRONGEST LOSER!"

"WHY DO YOU EXIST?!"

"THE FAKE HERO! THE GREATEST JOKE OF ALL!"

"DIE, DIE, DIE!"

"DIE!"

My heart speed up in overwhelming impending doom and my breathe hitched.

Stop. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Calm your heart. Breathe. Breathe. BREATHE.

IGNORE THE NOISE.

Head held high. Posture straight.

Don't give in.

Never give in.

Exhaling, then unclenching and clenching my fists, I continued my quest on finding a garbage bag with the addition of a mop. I arrived at the locker and-

"OI." A hand crashed down on the locker's door next to my head, shrieking alarms in my head as I turned around to face the monster, my wide petrified eyes meeting blazing eyes that smiled mirthlessly. "Oh well, now I've got you."

My breathe hitched.

Stop. Breathe. Be calm. Head high. Posture straight.

Nothing. Think nothing and see nothing.

"Oi. Are you listening to me?" Suddenly, my lungs were restricted of air and instinctually I clawed at the hands that were around my neck, feeling panicked as I was dragged higher until the tip of my toes can't touch the floor.

Air, air! I need ㅡ !

"Shit," the monster flared his nose and tightened his grip, purposely placing his thumb deep in my windpipe. I wheezed and clawed tighter, struggling, fighting forㅡ"Shit, why can't you die?"

Air, air ㅡ Need ㅡ I ㅡ

"Why do you exist?" He whispered gruffly, nearing his face to mine. Intimidated by the close proximity, my blown out pupils registered his brown eyesㅡbrown like the dirt he is, brown like the shit he is, useless useless uselessㅡand he spoke, slowly before rambling out. "Can't you just die right now? You can, right? Why don't you use your hands to kill yourself? Do something about it. Who would find worth in you? Your mom? Your dad? They're gone, right? Right? I'm willing to bet nothing because look at you. So worthless, like a damn useless piece of shitㅡ"

He always spoke, rambling about my existance. Why do I exist? I can die, just do something about heart I have. Or I can just do something about my brain that makes me think about myself. All it takes is my hands and that's that.

I never did it. Never listen to their words, only looking forward, merely staring at a blank canvas.

Because I held on the fact that there must be something else, but all I do was just trudge my feet to my former glory, looking at the world with no aim nor worth.

(Why am I living?)

I wheezed, kicking my legs to fend him off but a strong punch to my stomach got me coughing and exploding from the pain, and there's bloodbloodblood that splatters on the dirt that was the monster's skin.

(Why is he living?)

"Shit," he grinned shakily, a manical one that shows his dirty, dirty soul that Satan should pick up because he is the one that should die and not me because ㅡ

(I wish to enjoy the life I need to live for.)

"Scream. Fucking scream, bastard."

I flared, clamping my dull hands tighter on his wrists, trying to rip it off and I gurgled, screaming him like the world is going to end and it was his fault and everything was going black the dots are invading and I can't die like this ㅡ need to fight at least ㅡ I need ㅡ I want to live ㅡ live a life.

The monster laughed, hoarse and ear-piercing like hearing a violin being played by glass shards and I realized I was crashed into the windows, not strong enough to penetrate through it or get pierced by it but enough for it to crack and shatter.

CRASH!

There was a sickening crack behind me and I could hear the glass in shatters and the laughters and screams as I spewed out more blood, a symphony played by the devils and a dance led by broken shards.

Everything was blurry, a mess like a waterpaint full of colors thrown in regardless of their tone. The darkness was taking them over, and I gripped the loosening hands that were on my neck.

Screw this screw this why did he have to toy with me why why why

Brown eyes peered at me, looking blown-out and amazed like he made a grand discovery that receive international attention. "Oh? Still alive? Guess we need to throw you away, I think?"

Hearing those words sent all rational thoughts flying out of my mind. It's like a virus, an army of insects slowly invading, infesting its dirty eggs that continued to crawl under my skin. I was silent throughout the ordeal as the others laughed and came close but I didn't notice because there's a storm brewing inside my dirty soul.

My life isn't something that you would rid me of so half-assedly. It is not something to toy with. It is not something to play with by deciding which pressure is enough to have me groveling for the air and chocking just to fight for it (only to prove how weak I am).

But is it something that isn't worth as any other human being?

iS mY liFE sO WOrtHLess?

The hands were gone and I breathe life with relief and ㅡ

I opened my mouth in a silent horror and spewed out the disgusting water, trying to move my body but there are hands trapping me and since when did everyone cornered me? I can't breath because the liquid was at my nose level and God I am trying not to breath but it's so difficult because this is the worst everything's unfair why why why

"...omg that's seriously disgusting..."

"...brilliant idea...!"

"...whose piss is inside that plastic...?"

Everything become humid and I can't breathe because my face is trapped inside a plastic with human piss which is so difficult and I want to breathe but the air is decreasing and ㅡ what I can see was plastic and disorientated as dark spots gradually spread out.

I kicked and moved around but the hands were there and they act like chains dragging me down to my death and I can't breathebreathebreathe. I saw brown and suddenly my throat was clamped down, and I registered a solidness pushing on my windpipe and I chocked on human liquid, the disorientation leaving me regardless of my situation except of myself. My life is going to be gone and I had yet to even enjoy what is stored for me but why do the world keep taking everything away from me?

I wished I hadn't even see the dark side of this world.

I regret many things. I can't comprehend why this is happening to me.

I am a human.

And I want.

I want to live.

I want to breathe.

I want to give my all in this life I am losing.

(But solitary creature am I, watching the world lifelessly with no aim and no passion.)

I gurgled into the disgusting piss as a telltale sign that my death coming andㅡ

I gasped.

And found myself in a dim narrow hallway, the only source of light a shy blue luminescene, emitted from the fishes entrapped in the aquarium.

I sprung up from my lying position on the cool floor and coughed roughly before heaving and puffing my cheeks out at the coiling sensation in my stomach, rushing upwards like a carbonated drink.

I puked all over my lap.

I desperately clutched my neck in panic because I felt hands over my neck, enslaving me like heavy chains and I breathed.

I breathed.

I beathed and my hands were now lightly touching my neck to feel the smouldering hot pain that marked me in my death.

(I can breatheㅡ

But I remember dying.)

.

(Asphyxiation with a head entrapped in a plastic half filled with murky yellow human piss.)

.

(I died.)

.

(I died.)

.

.

.

(I dIeD.)

I inhaled and realized that there's a lump on my throat, burning so strong it reached to the depths of my heart. I clutched at the the shirt and tried to breathe because I can'tㅡ

Little droplets fell from my eyes, the burning clot in my lungs only restricting my pathway.

Everything is so painful, why is this even happening to me? How can my life change so drastically when I graduated to high school? I want to live happily, even amidst the crowds who laughed at me and crooned degrading terms because why bother your life for someone who is in need of help?

Why help people when they clearly don't need you?

Isn't it funny that you tried to help people who would only join others in bullying you?

I did my best, you know. I really, really did my best to live an ideal life, but no. I tried and tried and tried and yet why is it that I am awarded with such a horrible thing? Why did humans did this? Why are they so cruel and judgemental and so boring and so fucking worthless like me-

I lived a life full of solitary, no one to reach out and no one to even hurt, and yet why?

Why?

.

.

.

(Stop wishing for more regret. Stop wishing. You're eighteen, not a child.)

I rubbed my hands over the wet trails on my cheeks, spreading the moisture. It gave me little relief that I could still comfort myself out of this without disruptions. I curled into myself, not mindful of the mess on my lap because I was now too numb to feel something for myself. Circling my legs not to close to my chest with the other arm, I laid my head on the bridge of my knees, wide undulating eyes staring into the dark floor.

I stayed like that, sitting on the cool floor all alone while contemplating my situation.

So I died.

Died in one of the most humiliating and degrading ways that could ever happened.

Jus as t I was bound to go home after finishing my cleaning duty all by myself which my cleaning partner dumped on me so that they can be early for a date.

The fact that I died seemed to be an inkling of the past now, but I can't help but felt its phantom presence will haunt me.

I died so young, not able to experience something so beautiful because of my solitary. Eighteen is an age so young to die. I was malcontent with most things life has to offer that I became adapted with how everything seemed to be moving with a bright future while I'm rooted with a blank paper in front of me, feeling many emotions swirling in me.

Solitary can do that much to you. It can make you feel many things if you are only able to.

I wished that I was able to experience what was it like to be a free teenager, a teenager with bright future and lots of feelings too loud for the world. Solitary comes with a maturity and a languidness that I really don't want.

I sighed and mentally thought of a mantra to just accept it.

I glanced up, noticing the surrounding and feeling a bit fazed by the eerie atmosphere. Slowly, I stood up, weak and fully numb with poisonous past wounds and I gazed at the fishes.

There was a certain exhilarated beauty when I gazed at the aquatic animals. Their wide, undulating eyes were transfixed on me, slightly shrouded in the darkness that would have been conquered if only the light wasn't weak.

I let my eyes roamed over the area before deciding to follow their light with no clue of where I was heading towards. When I went deeper into the hallway, the scenery took a subtle change that I didn't notice until the hallway spread out in a wide circle.

In the fishes' stead were dead jellyfishes, slowly billowing in the soft water current as their translucent bodies brought out a murky blood red light, shallowing the room in its despair.

At the center of the room was a large dead willow tree, grey and withered. Sitting on the branch of the tree was a person shrouded in darkness. I stared with apprehension of the surrealistic surrounding.

I sucked in my breath when the person looked up to gazed at me.

The person was a a personification of Death itselfㅡno, it is Death itself, with looks to not be trifled with. It bears a face ridden of blood and muscles, leaving a hollow skull full of spider web cracks and empty sockets. Tall at the height in which is unattainable for human, its shadow loomed beyond me, entrapping me under its unsettling authority. The scythe gleamed with the red hue from the dead jellyfishes, almost hidden by the torn cloak that covers its body.

I watched and watched and watched and I can't bring myself to say anything, feeling something holding me too tight to not let me breathe and I wiggled my clammy fingers

"Anything you want me to say as some wise parting gift?"

Its voice was broken but surprisingly smooth to accompany the soft and melancholic piano at the background. I perked my ears when, in fact, there's a piano playing in the background.

The sound was soothing, small and quiet and absolutely eerie.

It's so quiet it was like a white noise. Shards of the past like how everything seemed to be quietened around you, leaving a hollow buzz in their wake.

I thought of the way he speaks. Like it was from England. Is it imitating British accent? I stilled myself away from the thought and asked slowly, hesitating over my words. "Is that your job?"

Its chest rumbled and it leaned back, the shadows distorting its face in such a way I felt my chest constricting, crushing all my organs and leaving me breathless. I was scared of scary things, I briefly remembered.

"That's a bit cliché, lad. I do whatever I want with the people I receive."

I tried for a small smile but can't help but let in a bit of derision. It's Death, I know it is because it's obvious due to its appearance. I inhaled to collect whatever confidence I could garner.

"Well, you're Death, right? Unless you're just a figment of my imagination." I laughed but it sounded so wrong and not me. It did, however, managed my growing weariness.

"Death is always there of your free will." It merely replied and I have to suck in a punch through the heart.

So you're saying that my death is of my free will?

"Okay." I didn't want to ponder on what it said and paused to collect my thoughts for a cohesive statement.

Or at least.

"I'm dead, and you're Death." Joking is a nice coping ability fo situations I can't accept, to maintain my calm because panicking wouldn't help anyone.

"Now you are a sick puppy." Death tutted at me like a rjokingky reprimanding mother.

I sucked in a breathe. God, Death's acting like some teen speaking in a weird accent to garner attention. It's unusual carefree attitude is mocking me of the teenager live I had.

"Why am I in such a weird place?" I asked softly, remembering the aquarium and how it really doesn't fit in except it does great for an eerie atmosphere.

Death hummed. "That's just prep for you. You're on your way to a nice and bright journey, lad."

"To Hell?" Those words tumbled out of my mouth quietly and I didn't bother praying for forgiveness to any heavenly deities sitting in a throne on the heaven. I'm dead, and the dead can't do anything more or lesser than that.

"Nope, sorry to burst away your bubble. Ol' Luci might shove a thing or two up your ass like those stuffs you read." It flippantly flips it's skeletonized hand.

I didn't react strongly to what he said, just a bit disattached and slightly embarrassed because of the remunder. "Yeah, I indulged in sin. So? I'm just a human."

I cringed a bit at that. How foolish.

"News flash, you're a human. Congrats on realizing that, lad." Death swung its skeleton legs to and fro. "Anyway, you know why you are here, yeah?"

I paused for some morbid amusement. "I died." I blurted out, blinking languidly. The news didn't send me brawling into madness or some hysteria like what I would expect.

I understood where I am heading and planning for.

Saying those words, words that I died, it was my defeat. I was resigned to the revelation of my early deathbed.

"Go beyond what your mind can reach, lad." Death made a clicking noise with its fingers against the branches.

I deadpanned, feeling emotionally tired with this conversation. "I died a death."

Death shook its head like a disappointed mother. "Plain sick, aren't you?"

"I died of asphyxiation." Bile threatened to force out at the memory and its faint flavor settled on my tongue but I shallowed it down, cringing.

"That's brutal. The way you died." Death's tone took a soft route.

I shrugged, unconsciously squaring my shoulders in an attempt to fade away and be disassociated with the one who takes lost souls to whatever destination. "Well," I continued, "they watched too much television as a child to attain that kind of imagination."

"Okay," Death said adruptly and brought out his scythe. "You will go and get your chance to somewhere else."

"What are you doing?" I stepped back fearfully at the sight of its scythe. Death floated down from his place and it stood a few meters away from me. It faced me and held its scythe like a wand with a spell upon its tip.

"Just do what you think you should do. Always, lad. Off you go." He held the scythe upward like he was giving divine punishment.

Panicked, I took a step behind me.

But like a person helpless to fate's impending doom, he slashed his scythe at me and I screamed, clawing at my chest because it burns, burns, burns! It was like thousand suns exploding, their magma splatting deep hell's flames in my insides, tearing me into pieces and, scorching my veins with poison and rearrangingㅡ

ashes

(who we are)

I woke up.

Then a sudden heaviness weighed me down like there was lead in my veins,. I forcibly pried my eyelids wide open only to felt an exploding shock in my head, prying a hiss from me when the bright light from above let the staggering nausea of colors blind my vision. I squeezed my eyes tight to soothe the pain in.

"貴様、" a voice cursed, alarming me of another presense. I groggily turned my head to the voice, feeling something soft yet rocky underneath my head. Uncomfortable. Everything is. The duvet that's covering me. The bed I was laying in. What is that person saying? "ガキ、大丈夫？串、やれが-"

"I'm no-"

I tried to speak but end up coughing harshly from the dryness of my lungs, the pain pulverizing me into more nerve-wrecking coughing fit. A hand softly grabbed the back of my head to lifted it up and I felt a press of something cool on my lips. I opened my mouth and felt the soothing warmness that was water, drinking it.

When I was done, I breathed in gratefully and felt relaxed when the water was in my system. My lungs weren't burning Hell's flames and wasn't scrapping sandpaper in.

I sighed through my nose, feeling relaxed like all problems were gone with the wind. Then a current of exhaustion washed me away like tidals ripping me away from the earth and I plummeted down to the bed despite the gentle hold on my head.

"Damn, shit, the hell? Damnit, stop cussing. Hey, kiddo. Are you okay? C'mon, open your eyes. I swear you are not in some alien spaceship." There was a rustle and I felt my head being grabbed, then lowered down into a soft material. It felt like laying on the clouds in heaven. I shuffled and let my body feel contented with this.

It took me some time to opened my eyes, and what greeted me was a peach color of a human skin. The light was dimmed so I wasn't sure of the colorㅡand the thing...

I looked up and saw a blank faced man staring at me with dead eyes. He significantly brightened, despite the blank face he has on. It was showing in his dead eyes. "Oh hey, feeling at least any better?"

I breathed slowly, feeling a sudden tightness in my chest, crumpling me heart and my soul into a small weak thing. The situation feels too... surreal. It's sickening, really, perhaps, maybe. I feel like my body wasn't mine, but it was, and it feel too real, reeking of something I can't identify but was too stuffy.

I pursed my lips. The man rubbed his neck, crossing his eyebrows and tucking his lips in a thin line.

"はぁ？エイゴ？マジけ？。。。えと、あ。Okay, well thenㅡ糞ㅡshit, wait, no, I'm sorry! Pretend you don't hear anything, okay kiddo?" He seemed disgruntled at the mess that was his speech and I felt briefly amused at the look of his face.

The man rubbed his nose, looking lost and awkward. "Kid, we're gonna talk later, so knock your head to sleep?"

God, just as soon as he said that, I felt my eyes dropping on their own, the darkness taking over the surrounding as I drifted off to the abyss.

The room was quite small for a growing teenager to live in. It was just a observation. Really. The living room was now cramped with a bedridden me.

I was surprised that I thought of my temporary caretaker as a man. He was just a 12 years old teenager growing and studying, living alone in this small room. Maybe it was how his eyes look so dead like he had seen this world rotting away or how he held himself that made me thought of the teen as a man. He cussed frequently and was oddly calm with everything even when he was kind of unaccustomed to a new guest.

During my recovery, I was always tucked on the floor bed he lended me. Nothing for the past five days entertained me. The teen was awkwardly conscious of himself when he paid attention to me and tried to control the way he spoke, which resulted in conversations only when it comes to my wellbeing and needs, or to clarify himself.

The only thing that was an entertainment was the routine of sleeping, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts and blank state of mind, the teen's struggles with his speech and cusses, and how he doesn't know what to do with meㅡespecially when it comes to feeding.

So when I am fully recovered, the kid made a decision where we have to talk about this. This being the new occupant which is me and how I came to be.

I was curious, so I gave my agreement.

And so, I watched him made his way on the low table and positioned himself with one leg splatted under the table and the other bent up to support his forearm. His expression was his usual bored as hell mask and his dead eyes didn't betrayed his thoughts.

I glanced at the items on the low tableㅡa water jar, mikan and two glassesㅡand tucked myself on the low table after a lot of hesitation on the etiquettes of the kid's origin. It made me feel concious of how I carried myself, because I knowㅡI senseㅡI feelㅡthat this isn't what I should be doing.

It's scary how my instincts are going against myselfㅡmy body.

"Um... okay, kiddo," he started off awkwardly. "Do you... know anything?"

"No," I answered certainly. I had spend my five bedridden days trying to know bits of myself, and while the lack of information left me paranoid and helpless, there isn't anything I could do.

He paused, humming in a thoughtful way, before blinking his dead eyes at me. "How about... remembering how you came to be here?"

I pondered on his question. I tried to know myself, but I really didn't delve on what I can remember, and he did gave an important point, on how I came here, so I try to rememberㅡsomething, anything, everything. All that came was just blank white silence, echoeing deep and off the wall. I didn't even remember everything, huh?

I told him quietly, voice rough and raspy from not using. "All I know was gone. Just a blank space."

" ...guess we need to... you... I think?"

And I felt my throat hitched as my mind registered a sharp shock. "And there's a voice! It was..." Just as fast as it came, the words immediately drifted off because I felt unsure of everything I know, distrustful of the knowledge I have.

The teen's eyebrows furrowed and he held an uncomfortable expression. "Kid, wanna know where I found you?" He frowned and didn't wait for a reply. "I found you passed out, bloody and dirty as hell, on my door."

I looked at him, not at him but beyond him, seeing the plain walls and a desk with a laptop and suddenly feeling like I wasn't supposed to be here. The air became thick and it was harder to breathe in, my airway was lodged that, no matter how much heaving I done, would cut off everything. Then there was a slow heat burning from my heart, licking flames at my inside and I desperately clutched at my shirt.

A rough shove against my shoulder and suddenly I was brought back to reality, eyes focused on the teen's brown eyes, seeing the determined concern swirveling. "Breathe. In. Out," he instructed sharply.

His words brought back a sharp sting through my heart, leaving me desperately aching for the one thing Iㅡ

The teen flinched back, looking alarmed now. "Damnㅡshit, sorryㅡstop, don't cry. Oh God."

Huh? What? I brought a hand up to my cheek, feeling wetness underneath my fingertips. Why? I sniffed, then I willed the tears to go away, but the hollow hole in my chest fluttered and sent strong ripples and the lump grew stronger on my throat and I can't get the tears to go away.

The teen rubbed his head in embarrassment. "Kid, I'm sorry. I really didn't meant any harm. Really!" He turned his head away as if he had remembered something. "Damn, where's the tissue?" He used the low table to rise up and he left the room in his quest.

The emptiness swallowed me in this little room, entrapped me in such a sick feeling. It was like I was a small febble child, lost in a white silence as the world goes on, grows bigger, and mocks me of myself.

God, why is this happening?

How can I... feel so, so, so empty, lost, andho this body?

Why is everything gone when I need to remember them?

The teen came back to his place at the low table, handing me a handkerchief of white and pure golden vines. "Kid, here's to wipe them off."

I stared down at the handerchief and lightly grabbed it, avoiding his hand, his touch because I am aware of myself, of this sickening thing I call body. I wiped the tears gone and clutched the handkerchief in my hands, staring at the vines craved in the canvas, how golden and fine it was.

The teen then sat not across from me but on the other side. He stared at me and it created an uncomfortable silence, neither of us wanting to talk out of this. Eventually, the teen gave in. "Kid, let's talk. I needㅡ"

"What's your name?" I blurted out quickly in a rush and looked up to meet his eyes, feeling something take hold of me. Asking that made me aware of how I never called him 'stranger'. I was too calm about him.

I need something to hold on, to hold onto.

(Perhaps he was just a fragment piece of myself.)

He didn't look surprised. "Name's Shimane." He jerked his head in greeting.

Shimane.

I nodded, storing his name because he helped me, a stranger who should be at least report me to police. I began to introduce myself. "My name..."

I went numb once I realized I can't remember my name. My heart was drumming wildly as I realized I don't remember my name, I couldn't remember my name. I tried to breathe and say that I don't know, but I just can't.

Stop it, stop it, stop feeling so fucking paranoid, goshー

"Kid, calm down." Shimane clamped his hand on my shoulder, and I jolted under the heat radiating from itㅡthen I noticed.

My shoulders were small.

Was I small?

I inhaled, the action sending more jolts to my heart rather than calming it. My stomach flipped and I saw the world swirling in hazy colors when I felt disorientation about the entire being that was me.

I flinched and jerked into reality when I felt something cool and wet hit me.

Water was splashed me, I've realized.

"Calm down." The teen lowered the glass down to the low table and I watched him, dead and silent, struck with the cold. "Kid, you have, like, a serious case of amnesia."

I blinked. What?

Shimane nodded, certain in his testimony. "You don't know your name. You also look like a corpse. Seriously, you can be that kid from the clichè scary movie."

"Sorry." I paused immediately in track, feeling my heartbeat picking up speed and my palms sweating buckets, clenching and unclenching to calm myself down.

Why does my voice sounds so... foreign?

I felt like it was not how it should sounds like.

There must be something wrong with me.

A shiver travelled down to my spine, leaving me feeling needle pricks at the revelation.

I know and feel something so fucking wrong with me.

So uncomfortable, uncomfortable, uncomfortable, uncomfortable.

Feeling disattached from everything and solely focusing that there is something wrong with me, I clutched the rough and wispy hair. I jerked at the strands to inspect its appearance. It was short. I tugged it further to see at least a bit of my hair.

"Kid. Serious amnesia issue you got there." Slowly, I turned my eyes to the teen, who clearly showed his uncertainty and his frown dipped down further.

Well, who wouldn't? At this situation?

Shimane stood up and went around the table. I followed him with my eyes as he opened the small closet near the island of the kitchen. After grabbing a plain t-shirt and shorts, he shut the door and handed them to me. "You need to relax. Bathing helps."

I casted a glance at the clothes and at him, then back again to the the clothes. He thrusted them further and I looked at him. Shimane quirked an eyebrow. "Seriously? Are we gonna play this game?"

I blinked, unsure to just accept everything. "I..."

Shimane huffed closed-mouth. "Extra toothbrush is already prepared. Just unwrap the plastic. Your towel is blue." He gave a particular look like he was inspecting me. "Just call me if getting the towel is too high for you."

I stood up and noticed he was tall. The estimation should be around five heads or so. The pain grew on my neck when I looked up at him long so I muttered a soft thanks and grabbed the clothes, hesitating about just accepting how this is going.

"Bathroom's at the end. Left." The man instructed and he went into the hallway. I stood alone for a moment, wondering about my options before taking that as my cue to follow him. On the side, there's an open door leading to the very small kitchen which he went in. He didn't notice me as his back was facing me.

Unsurely, I turned my head to the side and saw another door away from the kitchen but near to the main door. The structure of the entire room must be very small because the hallway can barely fit two adults.

Shuffling to the white door and opening it, I inspected the bathroom. It was run down, but not too damage or stained and beaten down by time. It was certainly the same size as the kitchen, with the bath tub taking most space. The beige toilet with chocolate brown fluffy cover was placed next to the counter sink, which has a stool conveniently and a small table.

I noticed a mirror attached to the drawer and decide that yes, I am curious of how I look, despite knowing this would start the storm.

After placing my clothes on the table, I stood tippy toes on the stool and looked at my face.

I stared, and stared and stared andㅡ

Wonder is this how I look?

Wide golden eyes rimmed with brown peered at me, emitting a soft, translucent glow like fire in the hearth, and underneath lays small eyebags. Fringes lays on the side of my head, casting long shadows over my right eye. It was a shade of wheat that my hair takes, laying like a dying straws and framing my face like a young girl.

I was a child.

Suddenly, I felt more aware of what I am. I am quite scared, terrified, horrified, a rhapsody of messed-up emotions. Even if I was a male or female, I would freak out because I feel like I should know, not explore all this things that were kept untuck.

But I need to find out, to squelch this curious monster in me.

I gulped.

And with hands shaking, checked my lower area.

I sucked in a breathe.

I tried to regulate my breathing but to no avail. I could only be horrified. It suddenly felt like needles, thousands of them, were pricking me everywhere, my body a victim of paralysis, making me feel uncomfortable at the revelation of my gender.

Slowly, I removed my shaking hands from my pants and let them gripped the sink, growing paler like the perfect porcelain of purest bowls.

Calm down. Breathe. In and out. Stop and breathe because that will help you.

I inhaled and felt it rumbling deep in my chest. I looked down and focused on the drain, the sink, the tap, and I hope that everything will be okay. That I can handle this. That I can move on and not be freaked out.

That this bath can calm me from my breakdown.

I heard the pitter patters when my eyes were blurry.

・・・

The bath became a time when I pondered on my thoughts.

I questioned myself and the memories and knowledge I have in my previous life, whom will be conveniently called as Previous.

I didn't remembered anything about myself and my past, which was convenient since I have to start a new and clear life.

But now I remembered.

I had freaked out the moment my foot touched the surface of the water, resulting me to trip unceremoniously in it and splashing water everywhere because I didn't filled the bathtub with hot water but in cold water. The shock resulted in a flood of information in of my head.

Of my previous life (who will be conveniently called as Previous).

And what flooded in my mind was my two memories along with a knowledge compass and a moral map, and a subconscious (of Previous) to guide me.

I was thankful of the cold water because I'm more focused on my freezing body temperature instead of panicking. I don't know how long have I been sitting on the bathtub, thinking of my current predicament.

I can't believe that I was reincarnated. (or was it?)

It's... quite surreal and everything around me feels like a walking living dream. I was supposed to have memoriesㅡall the memories from the Previousㅡbut what was left of Previous was the incident with the bullies, the meeting with Death before I was reincarnated, and the subconscious facts about the Previous.

Being reincarnated was like any other fanfics that the Previous likes to read and that thought made me paranoid because...

I don't know what I was being reincarnated to.

This fact is terrifying enough.

The Previous read books, fanfics, and novels; watched cartoons and movies, and they've known celebrities for their fame. Most of the reincarnation fanfics the Previous read consist of the main character knowing their situations as a baby because parents will call you a name you surely will know well or vise versa.

But me? I am in a child body with no knowledge of the universe I was reincarnated to.

And that's the truth.

I know this because I tried to do this. Tried to remember what was left of Previous.

Reincarnation is also a scary thing.

Because what else am I reincarnated for?

Paranoia isn't my best friend. So many things were overloading my brain capacity, they were all results of overreactive imaginations and they were lies. Many reasons were swirling in my head. What am I reincarnated for? Am I made for purpose? What was the use of the meeting with Death? Is it because that I'm not a human being but a fictional character made by an author to toy with?

I wanted to let out a derisive laugh. How fucking silly for me to think like that. That's why paranoia isn't my best friend. I loathe it and the way it could send me down into the most stupidest place.

And another problem is that it's also so frustrating to talk with Shimane.

He's a Japanese, yeah, it's now obvious because he has the average Japanese looks and his name is one (and I think I might be transported into a weird Japan animation world and that's the worse thing because it's an animation made by Japanese and how fucked up can it be?), but he is also trying hard to talk with me with his limited knowledge of English.

I spoke English when we first talk.

Yes, I speak English, the universal language that isn't fixated and is very complex with its many rules. English, the language most Japanese think that wasn't worth knowing anyway.

(I felt frustrated at Previous for not learning Japanese even though they are an 'otaku' and were pretty interested in the Japanese culture. Self proclaimed much. Also pretty petty of me for feeling frustrated at myself. But it's justified because right now, there's no way I'm actually the Previous but just a simple fragment.)

Why did I speak English? Why don't I have 'speaking and understanding Japanese' as a nice welcome to a new universe gift so that I can mingle well with a half-assed English-speaking Japanese teen? Doopey-diddle-doo-doo.

Everything's stupid. How I am almost accepting of my situation. How I became a child with no prior knowledge of the world I was reincarnated. How I became an androgynous that is sooㅡjust soo.

Yeah.

I am a boy, with a girly face.

TRANSLATION;;

"貴様、" ー Motherfucker (kisama)

"ガキ、大丈夫？串、やれが-" ー Kid, are you okay? Damn, why do I- (gaki, daijōbu? kuso, yarega-)

"はぁ？エイゴ？マジけ？。。。えと、あ。Okay, well thenㅡ糞ㅡ" ー Ha? English? Seriously? ...Eh, um. Okay, well thenㅡdamnㅡ (Hā? Eigo? Majike? ...Eto, ah. Okay, well thenㅡkusoㅡ)

EDITED;; I'm sorry for the Japanese, I'm kinda rusty in it so any advices or help, I'll accept it! Also, the second Japanese, I got confused on the yarega. /Shot'ed

It's pretty hard to write a character that is the main OC. Why the hell do they spend a lot of time doing some introspective character thinking? Uggh.

Question: How do you think of this story? It's my first time after all! Criticism are accepted!