It was a cold, dark night after yet another exhausting day of school. My legs felt like lead as I trudged along the empty road near the shopping district, a few miles from home. Every step was unsteady, every breath shallow. I was completely drained.


    "Ha! You actually watch Mecha Slayers? What a loser!" The bullies sneered.


    "They’re not stupid! They’re super cool!" I snapped back, but my voice wavered.


    That was all it took.


    They cornered me in the bathroom, shoving me against the cold tiles before forcing my head into the toilet. My face barely avoided touching the rim, but that didn’t matter—the icy water rushed into my mouth, flooding my throat. I choked, gagging as my lungs screamed for air. Just when I thought I’d suffocate, they yanked me up—only to plunge me down again. Over and over.


    By the time they were done, I was soaked, beaten, and barely conscious. The teachers found me collapsed on the floor, but that was it. Another incident swept under the rug.


    I had reported the bullying countless times. My parents complained about how I always came home in soaked, filthy clothes. But no one listened. Not the teachers, not the principal—no one.


    Kazuko came from a rich, well-connected family. His father had ties to the government, so no matter what I did, no matter how much I fought back, he always got away with it. His wealth and influence shielded him from any consequences.


    It was frustrating. No—infuriating.


    I was powerless.


    Another day, another round of torment. I wished—desperately—that things would just change. But they never did.


    Sometimes, I imagined myself as the heroes in Mecha Slayers. No matter what obstacles they faced, no matter how hopeless the situation seemed, they always pulled through. They always saved the day.


    I wanted to be like that. I wanted to be someone who stood up for the weak, someone who made a difference. Someone who didn’t just suffer in silence.


    Tears burned my eyes as the sky wept with me. Rain poured down in heavy sheets, drenching my clothes, my bag—everything.


    What could I do? How could I change?


    I wasn’t rich. I wasn’t smart. I wasn’t strong. I wasn’t anything.


    As those thoughts spiraled in my mind, I stepped onto the crosswalk. The pedestrian light flashed red, signaling me forward. The wind howled, the thunder roared, and the rain pelted down like daggers from the heavens. I barely noticed.


    Until I saw them.


    Two red eyes, glowing menacingly in the darkness.


    The low growl of an engine rumbled through the storm.


    Before I could react, the truck was already upon me.


    Time slowed. The world around me seemed frozen, yet the metal beast surged forward, relentless and merciless.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Why?


    Why did it have to be me?


    No one ever believed me. No one ever cared. My parents only ever compared me to others, disappointed in my grades, my failures. I wasn’t smart, athletic, or talented. I was nothing.


    And now, I was about to die as nothing.


    No.


    I can’t die like this!


    I don’t want to die a loser!


    I want to be something—someone—just not this!


    The truck hit me with a deafening crash.


    My body was sent flying, the sky spinning above me in a blur.


    All I could see was red.


    The world faded.


    And I screamed into the abyss—


    "WHY?!"


    Darkness.


    An endless void stretched before me, swallowing everything into its abyss. My screams echoed, yet no one answered. Was this it? Was this what came after death? A lonely, eternal nothingness?


    But then—something changed.


    A soft, radiant glow pierced through the darkness. At first, it was just a flicker, a single speck of light in the vast emptiness. Then, like ripples in water, it expanded. Slowly, gently, it reached for me.


    A hand.


    Translucent, ethereal, glowing with an otherworldly hue. It beckoned me forward, as if offering salvation. Without thinking, I reached out and touched it.


    The moment my fingers met the light, warmth enveloped me. A soothing presence filled the abyss, and then—


    "Greetings, young traveler. You have died a gruesome death."


    The voice was neither human nor divine, but something in between. A woman of light stood before me, her form shifting like mist caught in the morning sun.


    "Through my judgment of your life, I believe you are qualified for reincarnation."


    Her words stunned me.


    “Seriously? I can live again?” My heart leapt, hope flickering in the depths of my despair. But almost immediately, that flicker was snuffed out.


    I hesitated. “Wait… does that mean I’ll be sent back to that world?”


    "No. You will be reincarnated into another world—one that needs you."


    I clenched my fists. Another world? What did that even mean? I barely survived my last life—why would I want to live again?


    “I’m not special,” I muttered bitterly. “Isn’t there a heaven or something? I don’t want to be reborn only to suffer again. I’m tired… too tired.”


    The woman did not waver.


    "It is not your time to die."


    Her voice was gentle but firm.


    "I am neither an angel nor a devil, but the gate that balances the living and the dead. Your soul’s time has only just begun, young one. Don’t lose faith—live a life worth dying for."


    The glow around her intensified, and I felt the space around me shifting.


    “Wait—no, please!” Panic surged through me. I reached for her, desperate. “I can’t go back! It’s too painful! I don’t want this—I can’t do this again!”


    My cries were met with silence.


    And then—


    Light exploded around me, swallowing everything.


    The void shattered.


    And so did I.