Another Day... Another Day.

I wake up in the morning and start doing everything I usually do—first, my prayers, then tidying up my room, since ever since I decided to move to the big city, there was no one but myself to take care of these things. Finally, I prepared something to eat so I wouldn't go starving to work.

While eating, I turned on my computer and went through the emails I had received—some spam, some app notifications about updates, and, at last, the one I had been waiting for.

"Maybe today, I'll make it!"

And so, I began reading the responses to the résumés I had sent. It felt like I was reading the same texts in every single email I received. "We saw your résumé and really liked it," "We loved your résumé and think you're a great professional," "Automated response, do not reply."

"Rejected."
"Rejected."
"Rejected."

The only thing I could do was put my hands on my head and hold on as the urge to scream built up inside my chest—an immense desire to throw everything at the wall. But none of that would change anything, and the laptop in front of me was one of the few valuable things I still owned after moving into this tiny rented apartment. I got up and placed the dishes in the pile I would wash later that night—or at least, I hoped I would.

"Have a nice day."

A smile on my face as a demon in human form complained about the prices to my face, called me incompetent, and demanded to see the manager just because I wouldn't process her blocked credit card, accusing me of doing it on purpose to stop her from shopping. The anger in my chest flared, knowing that at the end of the day, some miserable higher-up would still find a way to criticize how I placed a product or how the floor wasn't clean enough where I had just mopped.

But today was the last day.

Was this really the dream life my parents had envisioned for me? Their son moving to the city in search of a dream—lying to them because he was too ashamed to admit he was rejected in his job interviews and now worked at a chain supermarket because he couldn't find any other job that would accept him? At least they thought I was doing well and had a good job—some strategically taken pictures, some "friends" I made at work, or just me "enjoying a Sunday out."

Of course, the friends I had made were from the supermarket, and I could only call them friends because we suffered together. The places I dined at were the restaurants where I worked on weekends to make ends meet. And the Sundays I "enjoyed" were the rare moments I allowed myself to rest—though not for long, since I had to study programming to somehow get a real job.

"Study this—it's the language of the future."
"No, this is the language of the future."
"Study this one—people still need it for important things."

I listened to everyone, researched every possible language, and applied to every job, even the ones I had no chance of getting. But I never even got a decent response—just automated emails, sugar-coated like poison wrapped in candy. I was tired of it. I couldn't take this crap anymore. I was going to give up and go back to my parents' home in the countryside—work with them at the place I once claimed to hate (which, only now, I had learned to value) and live a simple life.

That was the plan, and I had everything figured out. I had saved enough with my sisters to take a special trip to celebrate our parents' wedding anniversary. I was going to tell them the truth and hope they would accept me after all this time. My resignation letter was ready, my apartment bills were almost overdue, and if things didn't work out, I would have nowhere else to go. But fortunately, my mother was a sweetheart, and I trusted that at least she and my father would take me in.

When I got back to the apartment, I cleaned everything and organized it so it no longer looked like the pigsty I usually lived in. I packed my few belongings into a bag and headed to the parking lot to start my motorcycle. A light rain had begun outside, but I didn't worry—it was just a drizzle, and if needed, I could stop somewhere.

Of course, I didn't see the alert that popped up on my phone after I had tucked it into my bag to keep it from getting wet.

"Severe Rain Alert. Imminent Danger. Staying home is strongly recommended."

The abyss stretched endlessly in every direction, a void so absolute that not even a single speck of light could be seen. No matter where I looked, there was only darkness. That was what I saw upon opening my... eyes? If I even had a body anymore, I couldn't tell. Any sensation I had left was faint, distant—like I was experiencing something beyond my physical form. Was this an out-of-body experience? Or something else entirely? I had no idea, nor could I remember anything before waking up in this place.

With nothing else to do, I wandered through the endless emptiness, searching for anything—anything at all. Perhaps I was in a coma, trapped in some limbo between life and death. Or maybe this was just one of the bizarre nightmares I used to have after a rough night's sleep. But the longer I walked, the more I realized—this was different. No matter how far I moved, nothing changed.

Under normal circumstances, I would have screamed for help, maybe even broken down in fear at the sheer terror of being lost in an unknown place, with no landmarks, no sense of direction, and no way out. But I felt nothing. Only the sudden, unshakable urge to keep walking—to find a way out, even when it seemed hopeless. Slowly, fragments of memory surfaced. A special trip with my parents. Heavy rain. And then... a crash.

Time had no meaning in the void. I wandered aimlessly until, at last, a light appeared before me. A warmth I hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity bloomed in my chest, and an undeniable desire to live pushed me forward. Step by step, I drew closer to the floating sphere of light. But with each step, I felt less like myself. Still, I fought. I clung to my memories, to the emotions that defined me. I let go of everything else—stripping myself down to only what truly mattered—until, at last, I stood before that radiant energy.

And then, an image appeared.

Gigantic figures loomed over me, their expressions filled with concern. They spoke in clear yet foreign voices—Japanese, but unlike anything I had ever heard in anime. The two giants had crimson hair and watched me with worried eyes.

That was when it hit me.

I had stepped into a damn reincarnation isekai. I was dead, and this was the next step. A deep longing to embrace the light filled me, a yearning to let it consume me and start my new life. But then—another sensation emerged. Not from within me, but from the sphere itself. An intense curiosity, as if it were trying to understand the presence before it—the presence that was about to absorb it.

Everything told me this was the way forward. Every instinct pushed me toward that light, toward my new adventure.

But I refused.

The form before me wasn't just an empty vessel waiting for my soul to take over. No, it already had a soul of its own. It was a child—one that had yet to live. If I took this body, I would steal that child's chance to grow, to experience life as I once had.

So, I chose to watch instead.

Through the window of the soul, I observed the small life before me. Time passed in strange ways—the child slept far more than he was awake, as newborns do. Yet, at first, his soul burned so brightly it nearly blinded my metaphysical eyes. But as the days passed, its radiance began to wane, and I could feel the growing anxiety of the giants—his parents.

The voices returned, stronger than before, commanding me to absorb the soul. It was the only way. It was the right thing to do. It was the CORRECT choice.

But as I watched the child's fragile existence, I thought of all the lives I had known. Of the children in my own family. And I imagined how I would feel if some wandering soul had stolen their future just to claim a new life of their own.

And so, I made my decision.

"Live."

I began to feed the child's flickering soul with my own. I offered my essence freely, nurturing the small ember until it regained its former brilliance. But I didn't stop there. The light continued to grow, stronger and stronger, until, in the final moments of my consciousness, the void around us turned pure white.

And I rested in peace.

"I hope you cherish my gift."

"He's finally stabilized."

A soft voice spoke, relief evident in its tone. The speaker was a woman with long crimson hair and warm brown eyes. She addressed a man with similarly colored hair, though his was darker. He wore armor, his entire body covered in dirt and sweat from a recent mission.

"I've never felt anything like it before... He stopped breathing. I thought we were going to lose him again, but then—suddenly—his chakra exploded. For a moment, it felt as if I were standing before a fully grown adult... until it finally settled, and he stabilized."

Tears fell slowly down her face as she gazed at the tiny baby sleeping peacefully before her. A few drops landed on his skin, causing him to stir. Slowly, his small eyes fluttered open—revealing irises of a deep crimson, strikingly similar to the man's.

Sleepy and content, the baby smiled, wrapping his tiny fingers around the woman's finger and letting out a soft, delighted laugh.

"Our little treasure... Heiwa."