《Ikoku no ji de Gaijin (Foreigner in a Foreign Land)》 1 - Otaku Extraordinare Name''s Reuben Jackson, 40 this year. If I''ve learned anything in the past four decades, it''s that times flies when you''re wasting your life. Heavy, huh? I should''ve thought that when I was younger. You know that kid whose head was always in the clouds and refused to return to earth? That was me. I haven''t really descended from those lofty heights of imagination, even after graduating, getting a job, "growing up". You know, the norm. It''s been pretty grey, just getting by day to day. I don''t have a social life to speak of, haven''t traveled further than ten miles from my flat in 20 years, and my work... well, let''s just say that work is a bitch. My true calling in life is my hobbies; Manga, Light Novels, Anime, Video Games, name it and I''ve probably delved into it''s dark depths. Haven''t had much time for any "me time" lately, though. On the plus side, I do have a week off after today to nerd out to my heart''s content. Awesome, just one more day Reuben and then you can finally get around to rewatching *ne *iece. Just one more day. <<<>>> The boss'' little shit of a child has been tormenting us employees today... again. I can''t imagine the cajones required to actually live with that monstrosity, I seriously respect the bossman. On the plus side, John from marketing has been hinting around about selling his tickets to Japan to me. Apparently, his mother''s funeral can wait after all. But hey, no skin off my back. I went ahead and set up a meeting after my week off to "negotiate" the price. Nobody knows it, but John deals exclusively in full-body pillows and figurines. Today''s been pretty good overall. Everything''s coming up Milhouse. 5 o'' clock. Time to go. I clock out and hurry out to the parking lot to squeeze into my car. The drive to the storage facility is uneventful. I purposely store all of my hobbies in a storehouse here to keep... certain elements away. I greet Frank at the gate and he hands me the second key to my rental, #1337 (huehuehue). Wait, why the second key? Is someone already there? I voice my concerns to Frank and he shrugs nonchalantly. -Yeah, man. It''s like... your dad or something. My blood freezes. My dad? Shit. Nononononononono. I dash to my rental as fast as I can go, turning the corners at record speed. Soon enough, I begin to smell smoke. What the hell is my dad doing here?! He''s the one person that I kept this all from! Rounding the final corner, I see a nightmare, incomprehensible in its pure horror. My Father stands a few yards away from my storage container, right next to a pile of wood and gasoline canisters. #1337 is aflame, blazing with almost unimaginable light. Dad occasionally tosses in a piece of wood or drizzles in some fuel with a stone cold visage, completely contrasting the dancing flames. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. -What the fuck are you doing?! He slowly turns around, pointing his hard features towards me and stumbling a bit. He''s in his default state: drunk off his ass. -Thought were off this shit, son. Had to correct it directly. Can''t have you becoming a weeb, now can we? -That wasn''t your decision to make. I''m 40 years old, and capable of making my own choices. -Oh, you aaaaaarre? Ungrateful little brat. I worked my ass off to raise you and for what? This?! -I''ve already paid you back all the expenses you so generously spent on my growth and even added a little more to stay the hell away from me. What? Already drank it up? At this, he becomes purple with rage and sputters for an answer. I''m done. This asshole has always held money against me, the money that Mom left us when she died, and now this. It''s gone, my life. I poured tens of thousands of hours into it, poured my heart. Now it''s gone. Gone. -... Get the hell out of here before I let you pay the bill with your ass in a jailcell. Dad legimately looks suprised, backing up dangerously close to the raging flames and grasping his heart. -Damn, son... Never thought you''d ever grow a pair, and over this BS too! Fine, fine, I''ll go. He begins to slowroll it past me but pauses for a moment before he grasps my shoulder in the first moment of affection I''ve ever seen from him. Tears well in his eyes and the rank odor of gin nearly overwhelms my grief. -I''m proud of you, son. He then abruptly leaves, smiling jovially. That''s the last straw. I''ve lost everything that matters to me: my life and my position as a human being. My dad''s pride is only centered on the scum of the earth, of which I am now a member. I sink to my knees, weeping. What did I do to deserve this? Am I destined to this absurd grey, the one that my hobbies always kept at bay? Anger. That''s all I feel. For this half melted Season 1 of *nuyasha, for my dad, for this whole damn grey world I''ve been living in. The flames seem to dance, almost in agreement with me, brighter and brighter. Urg, how bright is it going to get? Was there really that much gasoline? My eyes feel like they''re going to melt! Soon, all I see is white, pure void as far as I can see. Oh no. 2 - Alan White My sight is dominated by a particularly frayed rope, concealing anything else from me. I taste something metallic. Blood. Slowly and cautiously, I remove the rope. This room is rather large, with dozens of books carelessly tossed in all directions, including what I assume to be a bed. A computer screen is lit with a Facebook page. The rope in my hand is tied in a noose and was about to be slipped under my neck. I release it and step off the footstool. How the hell did I even get here? Last that I remember there was a fire... and my dad... I look back at the noose again, sudden familiarity washing over me. A nauseating voice coils into my mind and whispers to me. I tied that. It seems like it''s... part of me. No, I don''t remember that. I never did that! The voice seems to sigh for a moment and prepares to tell me something. Of course not. After all... this is your first time controlling this body. What the hell?! Of course I''ve always controlled my own... body? I look down to see a slim torso and skinny legs. Whuh...? I grope my face and can tell that there''s only a stubble and not even a trace of a wrinkle. Hold on... I''m at least 250 pounds and have at least an attempt of a beard. Is this really not my body? That''s right. This body belongs, or should I say belonged, to Alan White. He''s a sixteen year old exchange student in Japan. This is impossible, utterly impossible... How do you expect me to believe that? This kind of shit only happens in Manga! I don''t have much time to explain this to you, just know that you''ll be in this body for at least three years. His memories will be latent in the body, so just search out any questions you have there. I sincerely wish you luck... Alan. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Gah! Freakin'' voice in my head! Come back and give me answers, dammit! ... I take that silence as a no. *sigh*. What did I expect would happen? Guess it''d be a good idea to check the computer... Hmm... This kid is really obsessed with this girl on the screen. At least have the common courtesy to clear your creepy browser history! Although I don''t really blame him, she''s almost a perfect beauty (meh, I don''t really like pink hair). Name''s Sakura Kamishiro. What the hell?! Her entire page is written in Japanese! Not only that, but I can understand it perfectly... Hell, I tried to learn it in my previous life, but even the basic Romaji was beyond my comprehension. Just who is this kid? I thought the voice said that he was an American transfer student! I flip the front-facing camera on, as I can''t be bothered to look for a mirror in this mess. The result''s shocking to say the least. I see a handsome face with bright green irises and flaming unruly red hair. Another instinctive thought assures me about the existence of hair gel and tone enhancers belying its true appearance. Huh. If I didn''t know any better, I''d say this kid is the stereotypical grade bitch to this Sakura girl and he''s desperately trying to turn that around with appearances. A dull ding resounds in my head, as if in confirmation... Damn, that''s sad. I''m sorry kid, but safe to say: I will not be whoring myself out for attention, regardless of whose body I control. Alright! Time to find my answers! No doubt this''ll take a long time, but I need to find out as much as possible to survive my new life for the next three years. I sit down and close my eyes in meditation, searching out for past experience, memories. It doesn''t take long for me to find the multicolored orb floating in my mind, untapped.Techniques such as these are frequently used in Anime, so it''s only natural for me to know how to do it so easily. I tentatively burst the orb. Immediately new information assaults my mind like a waterfall. No! I''ve.. got to.. stay me... Soon myriad engulfs me and I''m left in an oblivion of the past.