"Be careful what you wish for, you may receive it."
W. W. Jacobs
Growth is a road paved in pain, many would say. That every action we take is a reaction to survive the cruel and meaningless reality we call life. However, it is also often said, that things could get worse - things could ALWAYS get worse.
Nick couldn't agree more. After all, nothing's more painful than getting stuck in places you don't belong. Case in point? Stuck with a terrible diarrhea first thing in the morning in a disgustingly horrendous public toilet... with nothing to clean himself with. No tissue, no water, no nothing - not even a dollar bill. Screw, this cashless society!
Well, Nick was never really the religious type, but it is these kinds of shenanigans where he'd pray to whatever deities for his salvation. Hell, he begged every single godlike figure he knows of to save him: Abrahamic, Hindu, Buddhist, Norse, Egyptian, Mesoamerican, hell, even Kanye West!
After minutes of torture, surprisingly... there no divine intervention.
Great. Just great.
How is he supposed to—wait... That's it!
Well, here he goes...
Minutes later, Nick stepped out of the porto-potty. His gaze is solemn, despite the bright sunny day in this park. He took his step forward and threw something in the bin and—
"Mommy, mommy, look! That man threw away his underpants! Eww, it's brown!"
"Tyler! Don't point at strange people! Let's go!" The mother grabbed the arm of the green and yellow stripped shirt, looked back at Nick with disdainful eyes, and uttered a single word, "Disgusting."
And she left, while Nick stood in silence as waves of epiphany rushed at him.
...
"Ah yes... What a nice day die!" And he sighed before walking off. Shame be damned, he is not missing his daily caffeine. Off he goes off from the park to a nearby coffee shop.
And so goes another day in the life of Nicholas Smith.
Nick is your average, anti-social, thirty-year-old man. The only thing a bit special about him is probably the fact that he is (a) an orphan, (b) a biomedical engineer, and (c) an ADHD nerd who gets no bitches.
Nick arrives at the coffee shop to order his favorite as he pulls out his money out of his wallet.
Wait.
...
These are dollar bills.
He is holding dollar bills in his hands.
He had dollar bills in his hands.
HE. HAD. DOLLAR. BILLS. THIS. ENTIRE. TIME.
"Oh, son of a bit—!!"
"Excuse me?" the barista frowns.
"Ah, uh, sorry, I zoned out", Nick clears his throat, "Medium size Cappucino, hot, single origin Bali Kintamani Robusta and no sugar, please."
The barista rolls his eyes and nods as Nick zones out to see the news on the cafe's TV. Something about debunking the myth that Tesla cars safety mechanism doesn't protect it from ramming into pedestrian. After all those cars are known to be super safe with automatic safety break and air bag in case of sudden obstruction or people passing. Turns out the person who 'proved' those safety mechanism didn't work tinkered with his Tesla to cause the incident so he can file lawsuit to earn some quick bucks from the Techking of Tesla.
Did he really think they wouldn't be able to get engineers to verify and check the vehicle? That's dumb.
"Here's your coffee and your change," the barista's voice snaps Nick out of it.
"Thanks."
Nick walked out of the shop and took a sip of the unholy elixir of darkness, finding himself purified and liberated off the sleepiness clouding his consciousness.
"Ah, that hits the spot. The nectar of the proletariat. An addicting self-enslaving tool of the capitalist pigs to profit off the gentle workers' purchase to boost their productivity for further exploitation. The ultimate edible commodity rich in flavor, aroma, and history of colonialism, violence, and blood, sweat, and tears of the corrupt armed land owners and the cruel subjugation of the oppressed laborer of all ages halfway across the world, now in liquid form within a cup in my hand for a mere $4.27..." Nick took another sip and relished in the flavor that invaded his tastebuds, "Truly an glorious value chain of reasonable proportion."
Walking down the street, he stares at the change on his hand and then sees a robed old man selling lottery tickets and newspapers on the sidewalk.
"Meh, fuck it," Nick approaches the old man, "Excuse me, I wanna buy a ticket."
The old man slowly turns towards Nick in an odd way, and—wait, are those eye sockets empty—
"Finally... a customer! Welcome!" He starts cackling, "Kyak kyak kyak kyak kyak... buying a ticket, hm?"
Nick raises an eyebrow, "...Obviously."
"Hmm... curious..." he hums, "A soul that used to be so bright... now, so hopelessly dark. Oh my, how cruel has life treated you!"
"Is that supposed to be an insult, complement, or condolences?" Nick shakes his head in annoyance, unnerved by the strange old man, "Whatever, man, just take the money and give me the ticket, then I'll be on my way."
"Hmm? So soon? I see... then go ahead and take one. Though I must warn you: a new road shall open just for you once you take it! Are you sure you still want to take it?"
Nick sighs and wordlessly pulls a ticket and left the money as the old man cackled.
He rolls his eyes, but soon realizes he didn't have a coin to rub off the ticket. He turns around.
"Hey, old man. Can I borrow a... coin... Huh...?"
The old man disappeared.
Nick stares at the place the old man stood, now just an empty sidewalk. He rubs his eyes and still the old man wasn't there.
He looks around and waves at pedestrian walking nearby, "Uh, excuse me, sorry, have you seen an old man selling tickets and newspapers around here?"
The man stops, "Oh! Yeah, sure!" he takes one of his earpods off, it's Whistle by Joel Merry!" And he left with a smile.
...
"The fuck was... You know what? I don't care!" Nick pockets the ticket and shrugs it off, "This is Ohio anyway." And he walks once again back towards the park.
His phone beeps and he checked the notification as he walks. Ah, yes, it was the app where global intellectuals meet. A place where he can be the scholar he truly is and engage in the enrichment of esoteric knowledge beyond public comprehension—Discord.
However, he reads over the message in the general channel... and what he saw made his blood boil.
"Naruto can solo... the One Piece universe?! Are you dumb? Does this guy have no idea what a Devil Fruit is?! What the hell can some chakra wielding dudes can do against a seasoned Logia user? Preposterous! I'll show him! Now, listen here you little..."
And so, Nick types in a fit of fury.
So, focused was Nick at his rage, that he began to tune out the world around him.
He keeps on typing and typing and typing away and apparently a hot debate ensues and then—
"LOOK OUT!"
He never sees it coming.
Nick is too absorbed with the group chat that he hasn't realize that he is already crossing the road despite the stoplight turning green an a red car is about to crash into him.
He is going to die.
What seems like a split second, feels like an eternity for Nick as his life flashes before his eyes.
And suddenly, he realizes one important fact: he is going to die maidenless.
'Oh, hell no!'
Nick felt an instantaneous burst of adrenaline.
'STARBURST LEAAAAAAP'
Mustering all the survival instincts and reflexes he has, he leaped forward to do an action roll to dodge.
'Ha! I lived!'
Then a loud horn echoes from the other side and he notices the white beast approaching him.
It was... the Truck.
"Ah—"
And then all he could feel was pain, confusion, regret, anger, regret, pain, despair, pain, pain, pain, paIN, PaIN, PAIN—MAKE IT STOP, MAKE IT STOP, MAKEITSTOP MAKEITSTOP MAKEITSTOP MAKEITSTOPMAKEITSTOPMAKEITSTOPMAKE—
Through the red that enveloped his darkening vision, he saw something in particular of the red car that almost hit him the first time, and he mentally laughed in the cruel irony of it all; the red car was a Tesla.
'Mother fu—'
Then everything went dark.
Odd...
Very, very odd...
Everything feels... light
No, that isn't right...
I can't feel anything...
Falling?
Am I falling?
Cold... and yet so warm
No... I can't feel anything...
Is it bright? Is it dark?
Eyes everywhere... Who is that...?
What... are you watching?
Me...?
I... Who am I?
My mind... mind?
No... the echo... it's getting further?
No... No...! Don't leave... Don't leave please...!
Huh? It... never left? What...
What... is this?
And just like that everything clicked.
As if time went on reverse, my mind that felt like glass broken to a million pieces, started to join back together...
A flash of memory played suddenly in my mind, like a movie, in ultra-fast forward. From my birth to my difficult upbringings as an orphan, to my lonely and depressing youth, then the moments I touched my—Ay, yo—then I found a purpose in my life and thoguht I could turn my life around as I finally began to achieve prestigious scholarship, then the memory of me touching my—AY, YO—and then recognition for my skills only to wither away working as a corporate slave in big pharma that crushed my ideals and potentials and then again the memory of me touching my—YO, WHAT THE FUCK, STOP—
Then I remembered the last thing I saw: the red car and the truck. And realization hits me like a brick wall.
I was dead.
For my life to end so prematurely over such stupid mistake...
Melancholy wash over me.
That's... life after all, huh...
Then, without a warning, I feel an unnerving presence.
K̷y̷a̷k̷ ̴k̴y̴a̴k̶ ̴k̷y̴a̴k̸.̷.̴.̵ ̴b̵u̴y̶i̷n̶g̵ ̷a̷ ̷t̴i̸c̸k̶e̷t̸,̵ ̶h̴m̵?̶
A̸ ̵s̸o̷u̵l̴ ̷t̵h̷a̴t̵ ̸u̷s̶e̵d̵ ̶t̷o̷ ̷b̶e̴ ̷s̵o̵ ̶b̷r̸i̶g̴h̶t̵.̸.̷.̷ ̴n̸o̶w̶,̶ ̷s̶o̵ ̷h̶o̴p̴e̴l̵e̵s̶s̵l̶y̵ ̵d̵a̵r̸k̸.̸
O̷h̴ ̵m̵y̴,̵ ̸h̸o̶w̶ ̷c̶r̷u̴e̵l̸ ̸h̷a̴s̵ ̵l̷i̶f̸e̶ ̷t̴r̴e̷a̵t̵e̴d̶ ̵y̵o̶u̴!̷
It was an eerie smile was flashing within the blinding darkness that surrounds me and a cackle echo within the nothingness.
I̵ ̷m̴u̷s̶t̸ ̴w̵a̸r̴n̸ ̸y̵o̷u̴.̶.̸.̶ ̶A̵ ̷n̶e̶w̴ ̶r̸o̸a̵d̵ ̴s̶h̷a̵l̸l̵ ̵o̶p̸e̶n̷ ̴j̷u̶s̸t̴ ̸f̸o̷r̷ ̶y̴o̴u̸!̴
A̴r̶e̵ ̶y̴o̵u̵ ̸s̵u̶r̶e̶ ̶y̸o̸u̴ ̷s̵t̶i̸l̷l̴ ̴w̵a̸n̵t̶ ̴t̴o̸ ̸t̷a̷k̷e̶ ̶i̷t̴?̵
Its motives inscrutable, its strength unimaginable. Suddenly, I feel heavier and heavier and then... I fall.
A̴r̶e̵ ̶y̴o̵u̵ ̸s̵u̶r̶e̶ ̶y̸o̸u̴ ̷s̵t̶i̸l̷l̴ ̴w̵a̸n̵t̶ ̴t̴o̸ ̸t̷a̷k̷e̶ ̶i̷t̴?̵
A̸ ̵s̸o̷u̵l̴ ̷t̵h̷a̴t̵ ̸u̷s̶e̵d̵ ̶t̷o̷ ̷b̶e̴ ̷s̵o̵ ̶b̷r̸i̶g̴h̶t̵.̸.̷.̷!
A̴r̶e̵ ̶y̴o̵u̵ ̸s̵u̶r̶e̶ ̶y̸o̸u̴ ̷s̵t̶i̸l̷l̴ ̴w̵a̸n̵t̶ ̴t̴o̸ ̸t̷a̷k̷e̶ ̶i̷t̴?̵
O̷h̴ ̵m̵y̴,̵ ̸h̸o̶w̶ ̷c̶r̷u̴e̵l̸ ̸h̷a̴s̵ ̵l̷i̶f̸e̶ ̷t̴r̴e̷a̵t̵e̴d̶ ̵y̵o̶u̴!̷
A̴r̶e̵ ̶y̴o̵u̵ ̸s̵u̶r̶e̶ ̶y̸o̸u̴ ̷s̵t̶i̸l̷l̴ ̴w̵a̸n̵t̶ ̴t̴o̸ ̸t̷a̷k̷e̶ ̶i̷t̴?̵
A̸ ̵s̸o̷u̵l̴ ̷t̵h̷a̴t̵ ̸u̷s̶e̵d̵ ̶t̷o̷ ̷b̶e̴ ̷s̵o̵ ̶b̷r̸i̶g̴h̶t̵.̸.̷.̷ ̴n̸o̶w̶,̶ ̷s̶o̵ ̷h̶o̴p̴e̴l̵e̵s̶s̵l̶y̵ ̵d̵a̵r̸k̸.̸
A̸ ̵s̸o̷u̵l̴ ̷t̵h̷a̴t̵ ̸u̷s̶e̵d̵ ̶t̷o̷ ̷b̶e̴ ̷s̵o̵ ̶b̷r̸i̶g̴h̶t̵.̸.̷.̷ ̴n̸o̶w̶,̶ ̷s̶o̵ ̷h̶o̴p̴e̴l̵e̵s̶s̵l̶y̵ ̵d̵a̵r̸k̸.̸
Faster, faster, and faster and the last thing I heard as I rapidly descends into this bright void was:
A̷̲̖͝ ̵̺̺̗̍N̸̦̍̐E̶͈͐̅̐W̶̹̍̐ ̶̧̞̈́̋̅R̶̻̟̼͋Ö̴̡̭́Ā̸̻̔̑D̵͖̝̀̏ ̴̧̮͆̑Ó̸͓̼͐P̸̫͎̣͗́Ḛ̷͋̀͝N̷͍͕̂̿́S̸͉̓͊̽ ̵̢̦́J̶̲͐̈́͛Ü̷̱̣S̸̪͈̺̓̈͋T̶̢̋ ̴͙̹̙̆́̅F̸̻̗̦̈̀̈Õ̶̜̚Ř̵̩͖̩̈́̊ ̶͎̕Y̸̟̲̦̓̏Ö̶̯́͌̚Ṵ̷̾̚̚
And then there were pain...
'... What... is this...?' pain overtakes my mind as my bodily sensations returns. I slowly open my heavy eyelids to see a familiar red liquid all over his hand, seeping out freely from my forehead.
My blurry vision becomes clear and the ringing in my ears dampen. I look up to see a bloodied rather pointed rock under a tree and a fruit right next to it.
'Did I... fall headfirst trying to get that fruit...?'
I hear the sound of running water and wobbly walk towards it before kneeling in front of the water.
'Dark eyes... Bowl cut hair... and... bushy eyebrows...?' I start to piece everything together and soon come to a terrible, terrible realization.
"Ah, shit... I'm Rock Lee."
Author's Note:
Imagine cringing at your own story you choose to rewrite the whole story that never really begun. Well, yeah, that what I just did. Apparently.
When I wrote this stuff, what initially for shit and not so much giggles, but I finally found something I want to write about.
I prepared some world building. They won't be too much similar with cannon and I intend to deviate from it anyway.
See ya next chapt, Capt!
:v /