Excuse Me, Can I Get a Refund Please? I Don't Like Where My Isekai Story Leads To…
From time to time, I used to wonder what was going to cause me to bite the dust and how it would feel.
No, really. Creepy as that may sound when phrased like that, I was surely far from being the first person to have this interrogative running through his head, right? Like, at some point in your life, most probably as a kid I want to believe 'It certainly was at that age for me…', you became self-aware of your human vulnerability and that you won't walk in this world forever.
It could be for a multitude of reasons, ranging from assisting to a funeral of someone you knew 'It doesn't have to be someone close, just having plastered in your mind that this person once was living his life as if nothing was wrong would suffice to leave a mark in your psyche', or something as simple as suddenly the thought coming to you. You know, kids being kids and being curious about everything and all that crap fitting of the hyperactive minds they carry around.
Perhaps you saw those types of movies that carry heavily on that theme. There was this one, Brick of…no, it doesn't go like that. What was it called…? Oh, right, Bridge to Terabithia, and now that I think about it, I Want to Eat your Pancreas also comes to mind.
Well, those two are more about carrying on with the loss of someone else rather than yourself…but even so, I feel like they do good in telling you that no one is here to stay forever.
Either way, it doesn't have to be those specific examples, any form of media with similar premises could put you to think about how fragile human life can be, similar to those sci-fi movies that made you wonder, Are we really alone?
Finally, as it may be, perhaps none of those examples applied for you, maybe you had the misfortune of beginning to wonder about those things because of a real-life experience, that was to say…you saw a person die with your very own eyes.
Not so different from what that crying kid a few meters beside me was doing right at this moment, all the while having a first-row sight of what a bloody and mangled body looked like.
Ah, maybe I should've begun from that, shouldn't I?
The reason I was being so contemplative about that now of all times was that I was dying right at this very moment.
Badump.
Guh!
…Y-Yep, I was on my way to meeting the big guy…or not, who knows how does that stuff works. Does it ever work in any form in the first place? I was not the most religious guy you would meet, but I was open to multiple possibilities. Although I don't know if that in itself could have repercussions if there was indeed a place full of winged babies touching harps who would take offense at my indecision…or full of indescribable beings that would blow your mind by doing as much as gazing on their direction decimating me for such blasphemy…huh, I really need to stop thinking about that in a moment like this.
Or at any moment, period.
From that, no doubt some people would wonder Are you seriously thinking about movies in your last breaths!? What kind of weirdo are you!? And my response would be…Hey! It's my death, give me a break! I need something to distract myself from the insufferable agony I was going through in some way, alright?
Because, yes, right now every part of my body, that I could still feel, was burning in so much pain that if I were capable of it, I would be screeching and crying like there's no tomorrow, literally speaking in this case, all the while cursing the name of the bastard who caused this.
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it GODDAMN hurts so much! Why did that loggerhead couldn't do it the right way and make it instant at the very least!?
By that bastard of course I was referring to the one to blame for this 'That is to say, me dying' to happen. Such honor 'Hah, as if! What am I? Some kind of supreme being?' goes to that baldie 'Okay, that was unnecessary…maybe, though can anyone blame if I'm a little bit petty for the responsible of my soon-to-be death?' peeking out of his truck's window with a no small amount of panic in his features, as if not knowing what the hell led to this series of events to occur in the first place.
Oi, give me a break, at least have the decency to not make a face like that, you sick mother trucker.
Yeah, that terrible pun was intended.
Anyhow, considering that it involves a man in a truck, you must be already imagining that things turned out ugly. Well, let me tell ya…it was worse, way worse than calling it ugly would be an insult to how ugly this actually is. So ugly indeed that if an International Ugliness Association were to be funded after this, they would use the mess I am right at this moment as their logo.
Yep, it was that bad.
Broken ribs, internal bleeding, hemorrhage, aneurysm, laryngeal trauma, and a whole other lot of terms I didn't know their names for most probably applying too. I couldn't even feel my right arm and leg, actually, most of the right side of my body felt completely numb. I have no way of seeing it but no doubt my organs were a mess.
Ugh, gross, as if my entire self, in general, wasn't looking like a Lovecraftian horror too. Like seriously, I don't know if that kid is crying because of what happened to me or because of how I look. Probably both seem like the most plausible conclusion
Worse of all, seeing I'm still blabbing nonsense, was that if that was the case, then the dumbass was 'lucky' enough to hit only the 'right' places to prolong this as long as possible.
…Lucky, huh? I call bull on that.
I wasn't even doing anything reckless that would've put me in a precarious position like trying to cross the street without looking to the sides or doing something as crazy as pushing someone out of the way while taking the hit in their stead.
No, I was simply minding my own business while heading home after being done with my part-time job, when from the corner of my eye something caught my attention. Said something ended up being a freaking tire half my size flying in my direction. Before such a projectile had the chance of making itself a comfortable home in my skull, I managed to duck out of its shooting range by a hair…only to see the goddamn monster of a vehicle derailing out of the road and bulldozing in my direction. Suffice it to say, there wasn't a way out of that one.
That brings us back to this moment, with me paying the price of a dimwit not giving a proper check-up of what he was driving 'I have no way of knowing that, but my spitefulness is working at full force, so it can't be helped' and a pack of people staring at me as if I were to most fascinating thing in the world, either being a bunch of insensitive morons and recording me or doing the futile, but still appreciated act of calling for an ambulance.
Badump.
GAAHHHH!
… Oh? Is…is here? The…the sweet release of death had finally come to greet me and end my suffering? You came quite a few minutes late pal, I will have you know. But meh, I will forgive you if you hurry up. In case someone was wondering about it, no I'm not taking my own death well 'I'm NOT fucking okay, alright!?', it just so happens that I'm coping while trying really, really, really, really damn hard to not muse deeply about it until the very end, an SSS+ procrastinator to the very end!
Wait, why I am announcing that as if it were a good thing? Well, it's kind of helping right at this moment, so no use whining about it, I guess.
…Though now that things are finally coming to an end, I couldn't help thinking about regrets, not like there were many, mind you. I have never been a very ambitious person, being just fine with finding stability on a full-time Officine job and the monotony such a lifestyle could bring to your life 'Geez, thinking about it out loud sounds worse than I thought…', but even so a few of them existed. Traveling to another continent, any one of them was fine, just the experience alone was what would make it worth it 'Though I would be lying if I said that Asia, more specifically Japan wouldn't be a favorite candidate by some margin. Besides the obvious weeb side of it, I've seen on the internet that it has some very breathtaking sights, so, sure, why not there?'. Experience love, at least something that felt truly genuine and not whatever was a product of puberty making you act like a monkey in heat.
All of them were very cliché things, I know, but hey? They're fitting enough for an average guy like me. Although I admit that besides those previously mentioned, there was also the fact that I was just recently done with high school and college was around the corner. I would've loved to see the faces of my parents as, in a few years, I get to receive my degree 'Yeah, yeah, getting way ahead of myself, aren't I?', the pride in their son which they would carry at that moment when they see he finally takes the next big step into his life would've been truly a memory to remember…
…
…Shit, I had to bring them up, didn't I? When it comes to my old man, I…I wouldn't say he would take it well…but the moment my mother hears about this…how…how she would take it? Wait, what…what the heck I am thinking!? I know damn well for a fact how she will react; she carries her emotions to heart! Not like that was necessarily a bad thing, b-but in this case, it…it kind of IS! The stress…I-I mean what if…if it's too much for her!? What if it brings problems…like…like, I-I don't know, the heart!? O-Or in a worst-case scenario, w-w-what if―!
STOP! Stop right flipping there! I was already at the end of the line! Think about something else right in this damn instant! You're not doing yourself or anyone else any favors by grieving about what if's that have no way to know if they could happen, even less so when they are completely out of your control, because yes, they fucking aren't…
…Take a few steps back and do what you were doing just a few moments ago before those dark thoughts began to consume your mind…yeah…yeah, that's right. Letting them win while failing into despair in your very last moments would be a shitty way to go…
…
…
…
…Right…right, demoralizing myself based on what it could've been or me drowning in my own regrets was just an illogical way of spending my last moments…instead, I should focus on something else to distract myself with, for example…oh, I know.
Sooooo…a truck, huh? I guess I couldn't discard the possibility of getting isekai'ed, could I? Well, as long as it's not something like, I don't know, traveling to an already established fictional story like…well, there's a freaking ton of messed up universes I could land in. Berserk, Dark Souls, Attack on Titan, Elfen Lied, Evangelion, Planet of The Apes, Mad Max, etc., etc.
Anyhow, let's just say for the heck of it, Danganronpa, because honestly? I wouldn't even have any time to close whatever door of the afterlife I came from before I had to kiss my ass goodbye and step through it once again. Might not be the worst of the list from a practical point of view, but…
Brrrt! Just thinking about the possibility of living in the same universe where a psycho of Junko Enoshima's caliber exists sends shivers all around me '…Or is it a side-effect of being at death's door?'. Really, I wouldn't even wish it on my worst enemy 'Which closest thing I have to that is that neighbor and his annoying dog who barks the entire damn day. Seriously, if you can't take care of them, why have them?' to live anywhere near close to that walking incarnation of insanity which, rightfully so, self-proclaims as the Ultimate Despair. I can only begin to imagine how much of a nightmare it would be to―
Badump!
ARRRGHHHH! Son of a gun!
…
…A-Alright…this…t-this was finally i-it…this…this time for real. R-Really, I was beginning to w-w-wonder how…how could I monologue t-that much…
…Tr…Truck-kun…I'm counting on you, be…be better than your cruel master, a-and don't follow on his irresponsible steps. Send me to a nice place, l-like, I-I dunno, Non-Non Biyori? It certainly s-sounds like a good place to c-crash i-in…j-just, for all that is good…not―
BADUMP!
! ! !
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badump.
…Nh…
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…
Badump.
Badump.
…Nghhh…
…
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…
Badump.
Badump.
Badump.
…Nghhhh…?
Badump.
Badump.
BADUMP.
BADUMP.
BADUMP!
BADU―
! ! !
HUH!?
A sudden gasp escaped my mouth, both out of surprise and because of the sudden need for breathing my body suddenly demanded. Prioritizing the oxygen, I greedily indulged myself in the intake of the precious resource until I deemed enough to regulate it at a moderate pace.
Doing it enough to relatively calm down and before I could wonder about anything else, the first thing I noticed was that my sight was covered by total darkness. At first, I couldn't help but imagine that this was some weird version of the afterlife, which in insight, it would suck if this was all there was to it. Although those thoughts of being stuck in limbo for all eternity didn't last as much when I began to notice inconsistencies about it.
The first and more obvious one was that I was required to breathe. I don't know what others might think, but that sounds like a strange issue to have when you already kicked the bucket. Besides, there was also the fact that although I couldn't see anything, I could feel. I confirmed that much when I touched what I hoped were my own fingers 'Otherwise things could get really awkward…', I also felt that my butt was on something solid, resembling somewhat…yep, it was a chair. Finally, something relatedly heavy, not reaching on the overwhelming, just uncomfortable, was pressing on where my face would be.
Moving from confused to feeling like an absolute dumbass, I retrieved whatever object was blocking my sight.
And as if casting a Lumos Maxima on accident, I couldn't help groaning as I momentarily blinded myself with the contrasting illumination that now greeted me.
Yep, I wasn't in my brightest moments.
While taking a few moments with my eyes squinted as they adjusted to the light, I brought the responsible of making myself believe for a moment that I was indeed on my way for a date with the creator, both for closer inspection and to help me get used at the sudden change of sight.
Looking at it, I managed to identify that the item in question was a satire manga magazine of sorts called Comic PonPon. I said satire because its cover was full of parodies, ranging from a Mario from Super Mario Bros with a beard lock-style, Megaman with thick brows and a disturbingly middle-aged random's face, along other characters I didn't recognized, like a plump magical girl with a cupid arrow and bow, some sort of semi-naked martial artist in his late fifties, and a freaking mantis of all things. It also talked of the announcement of games like Individual 5 and First Reality 7, being more clear examples of this magazine having a humorous tone.
Although…there was something…strange, besides the obvious, about this magazine, I just couldn't my finger into it.
Regardless, before I could ponder more about that, my eyes widened as realization hit me like a truck.
…And no, that one wasn't intended.
That realization was…that I was alive.
Once again, I was feeling like a moron for having my priorities so messed up that I was prioritizing examining a goddamn magazine instead of attending to the fact that apparently, I was still kicking around the realm of the living.
Not wasting any time, I began to check myself to see if everything was in order, taking care of not missing any area of my body, and inspecting everything with scrutinous detail.
Suffice it to say, my body was fine…to a certain degree.
Oh, it was not like I was missing a limb or an eye, considering that I could feel both arms and legs, and I was seeing with both orbs, but there was something…weird, about my body in general.
For starters, my skin was pale, not enough to be considered dangerously unhealthy, but sufficing for me to recognize my body wasn't this colorless before, at least not to this degree. There was also the fact that I can see I'd lost some weight. Not underweight, but I wasn't that far from it either. Giving it a feel around my head, I could also notice that my black hair had grown by a not-so-small margin, now reaching down to my neck and being way messier than I last remembered. Besides…there was also the fact that at the very center was a thick strand of hair standing up like some antenna of sorts, not that I could see it, but sure as heck I could feel the annoying bastard way above where the rest of my hair is.
Was I just imagining things or did my fingers seem larger too?
Apart from that, there was also my attire which now consisted of a half-assed put wrinkled long-sleeved, not-so-white-now dress shirt with clear signs of needing some washing, and a black tie with some red marks. My lower half was some black trousers held by a black belt, and I wasn't wearing any socks, with the only thing preventing my feet from making contact with the cold floor being a surprisingly comfortable pair of light-brown slippers.
I…certainly remember not wearing all of this stuff before, not even once. It wasn't what I would call uncomfortable, because it wasn't, but it just felt weird, like it didn't belonged to me, and I wasn't even speaking whether I was the owner or not of these clothes.
Although I didn't allowed myself to be too preoccupied with that 'Even if a knot within my stomach was beginning to develop along a certain feeling of foreboding…', all courtesy of my mind immediately asking about the next biggest mystery.
How I was still alive?
It wasn't like I was complaining…but we were talking of a blasted truck lunging at me. I wasn't saying that it was impossible to survive an accident like that. I know it was within the realm of possibility, microscopic chance as that was. The thing was though, even in such a miraculous scenario, I've seen some pictures and news regarding accidents like the one I was part of to understand that they never end pretty. Heck, while I wasn't capable of seeing how I each part of my body ended, I saw enough of the mess I was to see that I shouldn't have been an exception.
By all means, even if I was extremely optimistic about my odds, I should've had at least lost a limb.
Right?
…
…In the end, I finally decided to give a detailed look at my surroundings with the hope of obtaining some enlightenment regarding what the hell was going on.
I wasn't procrastinating anything, no sir.
Drawing my attention towards the left, I caught sight of two doors. The closest one was beside me and was half open, as such, while I couldn't entirely see what was inside, I had enough view to notice certain things.
Painted in a sterile white just as the rest of this place, that room was the owner of a washing basin mounted in a corner, along a larger than average cabin atop of it which also worked as a mirror of sorts…I think. It was hard to tell, but at least I could see that from this angle it was reflecting a toilet. As such, I didn't take a genius to surmise that was the bathroom.
Cool, I guess. By process of elimination 'And for my own good…', I was going to assume to other one was the exit out of this room.
Noticing that I couldn't see anything else of interest from there, I turned my gaze back to get a more detailed look at the room I was in. Yeah, in retrospect, I should have begun from here, but…eh, as I pointed out before, I wasn't on my sharpest of streaks.
Looking at this area, I could see a section of it that was filled to the brim with all kinds of gadgets, like…that thing over there…that other stuff, and…alright, I admit I had no idea what half this crap was, neither what they did, so I was going half-ass it and assume they were medical equipment of some sorts if only because one of them resembled what I remember was called Electroencephalography…although it didn't help that they looked like high-end material, and I for sure don't remember seeing things like these in my average visit to the doctor. Granted, what I went through wasn't something you bring up in a common visit to the doctor, but still…
What I did recognize though, was the more standard equipment, like a scale, an endoscope, and a cup full of scalpels, both found within a desk with also some notebooks and a laptop sprawled around, just beside there was a shelf full with books of what I can only assume were about medicine and a bunch of x-ray sheets depicting different angles of someone's brain.
Most strange of all things though, was the most relatable stuff, beginning with that fridge in front of me. I would usually believe that it was intended as the storage of biological samples like blood, urine 'Ew…', or any other medical supplies that required cold temperatures. And that might be indeed the case…only that that note stuck to its front was complaining that the supplies of chips and soda were running low, plus there was a postscript about remembering to buy the latest issue for some manga called Demon AngelPretty Pudgy Princess.
I could've sworn that title was familiar to me in some way, but for the good of me, I don't recall anything about it at all. Was it some niche manga I randomly heard about at some point?
The weirdness didn't end there though. As if to further support my claims of this not being an ordinary room intended for medical purposes, there was also that sofa accompanied with a pillow, some bedsheets, and even a dozen more magazines similar to the one in my possession 'Seriously? I'm not into shaming someone's hobbies, less so considering my own, but given the context of where this place should be…', and were those candy wrappers?
So yeah, I was admittedly having second guesses about the intended purposes for the fridge …and this room in general if I was honest. Leaving aside the portion with the apparent medical equipment, this seemed as if someone turned a hospital room into his actual living space.
And speaking of which…
A hospital, huh? Well, that explains a lot…kind of.
It was by a large, a very, very large stretch, but I could begin to form a picture of what happened.
Some of the people gazing upon my broken self were indeed calling an ambulance, and by the biggest stroke of luck I will ever have in my entire life, one of them was actually passing by, attended the call, and not so long after I passed out they picked me out. It turned out that said ambulance was filled with some of the biggest professionals this nation will ever produce, and managed to work their magic and keep me stable all the way to this hospital.
Speaking of which, based on the expensive and advanced-looking equipment 'And ignoring just about everything else…' in this room, it wasn't far-fetched to believe that my streak of good luck made me casually end in some conveniently located five-star ward, with the real-life incarnation of Dr. Gregory House as the lead doctor in whatever miraculous surgery they did to put me back together.
Of course, following such an intense operation, I ended up in a coma for some months now. That would explain why my hair grew this much and became such a mess, while the lack of natural sunlight and proper acquisition of nourishment would be the responsible as to why I was so pale and thin. As for the reason I was wearing these clothes, it was most likely because I couldn't stay with the same ones during all the time I was incapacitated, so I was periodically changed by someone else.
Gee, how embarrassing…
Sure, the costs of this whole mess will most likely cost at least half of the stuff they managed to repair, but leaving those depressing thoughts for future me to deal with…See? Everything lines up peeerfectly fine, with nothing concerningly bizarre in sight.
…
…Moving on, I admit there was one more mystery 'Yep, nooothing else at all…' still nagging at me.
If this was indeed a five-star hospital, and I was being attended to the best of this installation's capabilities while recovering in a coma-induced state, why the heck I was in a chair and not a bed?
The only theory that comes to mind was that I had actually recovered from my prolonged slumber for quite a while and I have moved on to having episodes where I shift between waking up, making the exact same inquiries I've been having from the past five minutes, and then falling unconscious once again, all the while forgetting whatever I did and thought during my period of enlightenment…I might not be an expert in the area, but I feel like that was still concerning enough to keep me in a bed, or at the very least with a guardian of sorts so I don't do anything stupid whenever I wake up in what I would most probably believe was a foreign and potentially dangerous location given my circumstances.
Either all of that or someone else was occupying my bed, hence I was put to rest in the next best location…which was too another shitty possibility not only for obvious reasons but also because there was a messy yet functional sofa not so far from me. Unless, of course, you are telling me that the owner of such furniture was some infamous third patient I wasn't seeing anywhere.
You know what? I'm gonna change my ranking of this place from five to four stars. Not House in the house, but I can still believe in my chances with Robert Chase.
For the good of my remaining sanity, I shifted my gaze to the only location left from being explored.
Heh, can you believe this guy? He hasn't moved his ass outta the chair at any moment and still has the royal crowns to say he has actually explored anything beyond the goddamn manga in his hands.
'Oh, shush it…' Getting up from my seat, I turned toward the opposite corner from where the 'Supposed…' exit was. I didn't move more than five steps before being greeted by a drapery acting as a barrier of sorts between me and where my original resting place 'Supposedly…' was.
Well, time to meet up with whoever is using my bed. It goes without saying that I need to have a few words with whomever they are.
Pulling out the sheet, I―
…
…
…
…Are you messing with me…?
T-That…that was a joke, you know?
When I was thinking all…all of that dumb stuff, I was just messing around!
As life had taken a liking to taught me recently, reality can take the most unexpected of turns. Because indeed, the very moment in which I pushed the drapey away to see what was it hiding in the other half of the room, that stupid theory of mine turned out to not be as dumb as I initially believed.
Sprawled on a white bed no different than what you would expect in any other hospital, an actual person was counting sheep, so peacefully that if it weren't because of the slow but still noticeable raising and falling of her chest I would've confused her for a dead body.
Because yes, she, as in the bed-stealer turned out to be a girl.
More or less my age. Somewhat shorter than me by a pair of inches, although that wasn't the same as saying she was short seeing that I was five foot, eleven inches tall. She definitely was in the above-average spectrum.
Brown loafers, white high-knee socks, a dark-grey skirt and cardigan set, along with a white blouse and a red ribbon attached to it. It was a pretty standard uniform, though I could've sworn that there was important about the symbol attached to its edge, which I will assume it's the insignia of the school she belonged to…
…
Eh, it must be some fancy private school that I simply don't remember the name of right now.
Her most notorious trait was for sure the hair. Leaving aside that it was abnormally long, with her roots reaching down to her thighs, her crimson hair was a strange case. It wasn't red as in how a redhead would normally have its hair, that was undeniable…but no matter how I look at it, neither can I affirm with certainty that it was dyed.
Leaving the weirdness of that ordeal aside. All of that, in combination with her, blushed cheeks, the rosy pink lips, and her round face just in the right shape…I would be lying if I said she wasn't cute.
…Now, I know what some might think about this. Why are you staring at her like some creep, huh!? Stop being so gross! And I vehemently agree with that sentiment, I really do!
But…there's…there's this something about her, that just looking at her person gives me a strange and conflicting mix of emotions. Even though I could've sworn I had never met her in my life, because sure as hell I would've remembered someone with her traits, I can shake the feeling that I do know her. Hell, crazy as it might sound, there was this sentiment of familiarity the longer I glued my gaze on her.
Okay, that isn't weird. Not at all.
Forcing myself to finally drop it with the stares so I don't end up with an 'Admittedly deserved at this point…' restraining order, I diverted my attention toward a concerning detail I was quickly beginning to feel guilty of not paying attention to earlier.
Those suction pads in her head.
One for each cheek and three at her forehead, the cords of all five of them led to what resembled some sort of EEG machine held within a trolley just beside the bed. Such equipment was also connected to a laptop that presented all kinds of data, which I admittedly couldn't make heads or tails of it. Mostly because it was away enough to not see what it was saying with clarity, but I didn't doubt for a moment that even if I were to get closer, I wouldn't be able to surmise anything beyond whether the redhead's brain was fine or not, and that was me being optimistic.
…
…
…
…Leaving aside the stupid comments, the sarcasm, and any other distracting crap… what's up with them leaving me and that girl in the same room?
Like sure, the pandemic was still a thing…sort of. It was far from what it was at its prime though, which is why I highly doubt that oversaturation was a problem wherever this place was would be facing now. More so if they could take their time to attend to someone as unimportant as me and which such efficiency. For real, I wasn't even feeling the scars that no doubt that accident left me!
No matter how you look at it, this wasn't normal, not at―
My already limited attention span changed in trajectory when a thud-like sound put my previous musings to an abrupt end.
Just before I could wonder what was that, I immediately got my answer in form of what I briefly noticed was a second rock impacting on the window, and the lack of glass flying everywhere telling me that it was reinforced, fortunately.
Still, that didn't stop me from jumping back in surprise.
At first, I thought it was merely a moron trying to be funny, even so, curiosity got the better of me, and if nothing else, I wanted to get the face of whoever would be responsible for wanting to disturb a goddamn hospital of all places.
Strolling to take a peck, I went with the idea of expecting a brat running away and pitifully snickering at what he thought was oh so amusing.
Which is why my brain turned numb when I caught sight of the responsible…or group responsible for the 'Prank'.
In the distance, barely contained by a constantly shaking fence, dozens…no, it could easily consist of about a hundred or two individuals, shouting all kinds of protests and demands. At least it seemed that way, in all honestly though, from my perspective they only seemed to be angrily opening and closing their mouths.
Of course, while concerning enough, that wasn't what put my brain on a repeated cycle of resetting and turning back on. Nope, what was filling my mind with absolute disbelief was what some of the protesters wore in their heads.
White and black round plastic faces, each one of them accompanied by just as round circles on each edge. One side was filled with a button-like dot acting as an almost adorable eye. The other in contrast had a serrated and creepy red eye.
Seeing that, rather than…I don't know, doing anything else, my confusion reached the point that the first thing I did was to merely let out the first thought that my brain allowed me to "…W-What the hell? What's up with those weirdos? And what are―"
Instead of using the masks as the last piece of information to fill the blanks of a despairful picture I was sure to dislike, a sudden gasp in stupefaction left my mouth when a smooth and deep voice I didn't recognize spoke up, all the while also being my wake-up call. And if that wasn't terrible enough, my shock grew exponentially by the mere fact that I didn't say that in English.
I was admittedly confused 'And maybe, perhaps, also hyperventilating…' about what language it was. Just my luck though, that I had the correct tool to help me figure that out.
With growing trepidation, I turned to the magazine I kept with me the whole damn time, and…sure enough, I finally recognized what was so weird about it. Rather than using the Latin alphabet to write its contents in English, it was a bunch of Kanji characters that someway, somehow, I was now understanding. No doubt that note in the fridge was a similar case. Regardless, I had my answer.
Japanese.
I understand a whole different language, I also speak it...
Then I remembered all those inconsistencies I felt when I woke up.
Was…was this a different body too? In that case whose…
The surprise was quickly turning into realization as all the pieces I dumbly refused to pay attention to were finally beginning to fall into place.
Comic PonPon, Pudgy Princess…I-I now remember from where they…they are…
Realization into dread.
That protest…or parade, the black and white…Monokuma masks, a patient-like room with a bunch of stuff related to neurology, and…and…and…
With growing horror, I slowly turned my gaze down to the bed and its…patient.
A uniform whose white and black insignia was a shield with four wings on each side, a crown atop it, and a ballpoint pen along with a thunder of sorts. A symbol of that cursed academy that was everything but the name they proudly acclaimed as their motto.
No…
Next, there was the owner of said uniform, whose suction pads stuck on her head imply that she suffers from a condition related to the brain. In which case, it wasn't that outlandish to believe in the possibility of suffering some variant of…amnesia
…
A second.
Two seconds.
Three―
Without thinking about it more, I rushed away with a vigor I didn't think I was capable of even for the worst of stomach sickness, not giving a damn about the two or three times I almost tripped.
No, no…
Slamming the door fully open, and stampeding into the bathroom, I quickly made my way to the cabin with a mirror at its front.
Please don't let this be what I think it is…
Much to my dismay though…there, with shaken legs, an inadvertently let-out whimper, and my heart coming to a stop for the briefest of moments, I saw it.
Pale and thin lips.
You…
Strong jawline.
Gotta…
Pale blue eyes with long eyelashes.
Be…
It might be smeared with a haunted look, but it was still an all-around handsome face…which it wasn't mine.
Shitting me…
No, I was not the owner of this face, nor of its body, but that didn't mean I was unaware of its real owner.
Yasuke Matsuda.
Even though it was now flesh and bones rather than pixels, the resemblance was undeniable.
I…I was Yasuke Matsuda, Junko's―
I couldn't even finish that train of thought before the feeling of nausea became unbearable and my stomach urged me to slam my face into the nearest toilet.
Thankfully there was one just behind me, and not so long after, I used it to throw up whatever contents my…his body contained.
When I was finally done, I couldn't help an ounce of regret that I apparently didn't had anything else inside me to decorate the toilet with. After all, with my stomach empty and how exhausted I suddenly became, what followed was a moment of lucidity in which my brain was all too happy to remind me how much of a mess I was in.
Because fucked up I was indeed.
"…O-Of all possible―No…you…you know what? I-I'm not going to do it…" I was not going to use the most overused line in the story of reincarnating stories slash self-insert fics.
Why?
Because of freaking course the moment I thought that reincarnating in the universe of Danganronpa was a bad idea out of fear of being anywhere near Junko Enoshima, not only I was going to do so in that exact same world she inhabits. As if to pour salt on the wound, I wouldn't do so from wherever it counts as a safe distance away from her, oh no, the only reasonable way of doing this shit was with me being in the same room as her, taking the body of the childhood friend slash boyfriend of that psycho.
What else should've expected?
Fuck you too, truck-kun.
A/N: Eh? This isn't Junko planning the torment of a certain green-haired boy, is it? Neither Mukuro struggling with her guilt-ridden conscience, or an Assassin orbiting around said Soldier, right? What's this then!?
Soooo, the thing is, this week along with the next one most likely, I will be busy with some personal stuff. Nothing serious, but it will be time consuming. Which is why even though there won't be a new chapter for any of the other three fics I'm working on, I wanted to keep you guys with at least something I had already done and was accumulating some dust in my files.
Anyhow, in the meanwhile, I hope that my suffering works as an appropriate compensation in amusement!