《The Saga of a Reincarnator》Chapter 1: 死 (Death)
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I open my eyes, sunlight filtering through the blinds causing me to shift slightly on the bed. I groan and rub my eyes with my hands, removing the sand settling around it. I yawn and get up, the bedsheets falling off my slim and petite body.
“Another day…” I wore my slippers and walked through the room. It was a small room, but decent enough for living standards. I live in an apartment not far from school, the hustle and bustle of the city already ramping up in intensity through the slim walls of the apartment.
I went inside the bathroom situated outside the bedroom and began freshening up. The bath over, I approached the mirror and checked my body for the umpteenth time.
Slim and petite, more like skin and bones, pale skin, black shaggy hair reaching up to my chin, and heterochromatic eyes, the right one light red color, while the other a dark blue. In fairness, I could pass myself as a girl if I did crossdress, but that wasn’t on my to-do list, nor will it ever be.
I went back to my room and wore the standard school uniform of my college. Black slacks, a white long-sleeved blazer since it was currently Fall. Once done with the ritual, I went to the kitchen to whip up some breakfast. The kitchen was small, and since this was a small apartment, the dining area was close to the kitchen.
I cooked a traditional breakfast consisting of eggs, bacon, and bread. Mechanically eating, I set the dish on the sink and grab my bag, ready to start the day in school.
The crowding in this city wasn’t all that bad in the morning, but I still had to get to school early in case something happens.
“Ah right, still need to finish my project,” I murmured, the voice drowned out by the noisy background. Walking to school was no trouble, seeing that it was a 10-minute walk away from my apartment. But that didn’t mean I liked it. I hated being under the sun, as obvious from my skin color. Being a night owl will do that to you.
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While walking, I come across a homeless person sitting on the street. He looks at me with pleading eyes to give him some money. I wanted to, but with how tight my budget is currently, I only shook my head in response and walked away.
I could feel despair emanating from him as he got farther away, the more I walked. ‘May someone else takes pity on you.’
A few more minutes later, I stood outside the gates of my school and promptly entered, ready for the boring and tedious process of education.
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The bell struck, signaling the end of classes. My classmates all formed their groups and cliques while I remained alone. I am an introverted person, and a bit of a social outcast, for no particular reason other than me not wanting to socialize.
I grew tired of socializing back in my time at high school. You can never find a true, good friend in this world it seems. I’ve been stabbed in the back too many times already. School is also beginning to fade in my eyes. The only comfort I could gain was when I was playing games or writing novels.
I grabbed my bag and promptly headed back home, my vision only seeing monochromatic colors. It’s always like this; Wake up, go to school, sleep, repeat. Those are the three most important facts of life that normal people cannot avoid.
Because in all societies, if you have no merit, then you’re nothing but garbage. Even your own family would be willing to kick you out once you give them a reason that you’re not helpful.
That’s what happened to me after all. Black sheep in the family, lazy couch potato, and freeloader to the highest bidder. That’s what I am. It only took them 18 years before they kicked me out under the guise of ‘independence,’ and frankly, what they’re doing is practically legal.
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I’m considered an adult, they still give me an allowance, and force me to go to school. If I died in a ditch somewhere, I guess they wouldn’t even care, what with them all fawning around my younger brother who was supposedly a genius.
Fuck this life…
It was at that moment that I heard a blaring alarm that came from behind. I looked back and saw two figures sprinting in my direction, bags in hand. They wore balaclavas over their heads, with goggles that hid their eyes, making them practically unrecognizable. If that wasn’t enough, they wore baggy clothing to hide the shape of their bodies, but what stood out to me the most were the guns they held in their other hands.
I stood in my place, paralyzed at the scene. My eyes were wide with my mouth slightly agape. I willed my body to move, but it refused to follow. The two men drew closer, and I was in their way. This sidewalk was narrow, and cars and trucks freely drove on the asphalt beside me.
“Get out of the way!” the man drew close enough, only to shove me away from the sidewalk. I fell on my ass on the asphalt, and the last scene I saw and heard, was the honking of a horn and tires screeching, incredible pain rushing through my nerves and everything turning black.
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My world was dark, but it somehow felt peaceful. No more pain, no more suffering, no more commands… I felt like I could just sleep for eternity and never wake upm, but then I felt a shift in my surroundings. It left me anxious, then something grabbed my head.
I struggled, not intent on leaving my eternal rest. I flailed my limbs, my legs, and my head, only to be met with fierce resistance. The thing grabbing me from the head was also incredibly strong, I couldn’t even budge it! I struggled even more, only for light to pool into my eyes.
I cried.
I cried and cried and cried, but then the forceful thing grabbing my head was released, and instead, was replaced by warmth and the feeling of comfort. I stopped crying and opened my eyes.
The long, blonde hair of the woman was incredibly silky, her face a perfect picture of a top model with bright blue eyes, and that charming and heartwarming smile directed at me.
“Est zou shingi nusiya,” the woman said in an unknown language before planting a kiss on my forehead. I felt the soft and puffy lips brushing against my forehead, and for the first time in the 20 years I lived my life, I felt happy. I reached out to her, only to realize that my hands were not ones I was familiar with. Tiny hands, with stubby fingers the length of a thimble.
I couldn’t believe it… Well… Maybe a little…
After all, I could still remember the pain of being run over by a speeding vehicle. I shivered slightly at the memory of my gruesome death. Noticing my shiver, the blonde woman – my new mother probably – brought me closer to her chest gave sang a soothing lullaby.
I felt drowsy, and moments later, I felt my eyelids grow heavier and heavier by the moment until I could no longer fight against the drowsiness and fell back into my slumber.
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