"Maya, don't run! I'm warning you, I'll eat your fish if you don't stop... MAYA!!!"
I screamed at the top of my lungs as my cat darted toward the road, her tiny legs moving faster than I thought possible. Panic surged through me as I chased after her, my heart pounding in my chest. I'd had Maya for only a year, but she was everything to me—my little companion in a world where I'd always been alone.
And then... I died.
I died trying to save my cat from the legendary truck-kun.
Sadly, I couldn't save her either, and we were both hit. Gosh, it hurt like hell.
Every cell in my body felt like it was screaming in agony. My vision blurred, but the world around me was all too vivid. Blood gushed from my wounds, pooling on the street like some kind of morbid painting. My body felt heavy, like all the strength had drained out of me in one swift moment.
I could faintly hear the frantic shouting of people. Someone was calling for an ambulance, others were gasping and murmuring in shock, but deep down, I knew it was too late.
Even though the pain was unbearable, I had this eerie sense of calm. The kind you get when you already know the outcome.I don't mind dying, though. There's nothing in this world that I'm truly attached to. No family, no friends—just Maya.
My sweet little stray kitty, who became my only light in an otherwise bleak existence. She was the only one I ever cared about, and now, even she was gone.
I tried to move my arm to reach for her, but it wouldn't budge. I wanted to touch her one last time. I felt so powerless, lying there as the world faded around me.
You know, I've lived in a foster home for as long as I can remember. When I was little, I used to dream about my birth parents—who they were, what they looked like, why they left me.
I wondered if they were out there somewhere, thinking about me. It was a nice fantasy. But that dream was shattered one day when the manager of the foster home told me the truth.
He saw it happen with his own eyes, he said. My birth mother—just a teenager herself—threw me in a bin like I was a piece of trash and then ran away. She didn't look back. I was her mistake.
That word haunted me for years.
"Mistake."
It sunk deep into my heart, creating a wound that never truly healed. From that moment on, I knew I was unwanted, unloved, a burden. I grew up fast because I had to. There was no one to lean on, no one to protect me. I had to face a harsh reality no child should ever face.
I struggled with depression for a long time, sinking into a darkness that felt impossible to escape. I learned how to smile, how to pretend everything was okay, but the truth was, I felt hollow. Empty. Broken. No one at the foster home wanted to adopt a sad, withdrawn child.
As I got older, the chances of being adopted dwindled. People wanted babies or younger kids, not a sullen teenager with a baggage.
By the time I turned 18, I had no illusions left. That birthday wasn't a celebration. It was the day I had to leave the foster home and fend for myself. No support, no safety net—just me and the cold, indifferent world.
I managed to scrape by, picking up odd jobs and living in a cramped apartment. The only bright spot in my life was Maya, the stray cat I found one rainy night. She gave me something to care for, someone to come home to. She made my life bearable.
But now, she was gone, and so was I.
To sum up my life: it was sad and harsh, and it ended tragically when a truck hit both me and my cat.
As I lay there on the cold pavement, my mind wandered. I wondered, briefly, if I'd meet some kind of god. You know, like in those isekai stories where people die by accident and get sent to another world with op skills. Maybe a god would take pity on me and send me somewhere better. But, as the darkness started closing in, nothing of the sort happened. No god, no magical voice offering me a new life—just silence.
Instead, I felt... warmth. A strange, comforting sensation, like I was lying on the softest cushion in existence. I didn't want to move. I felt weightless, floating in this blissful warmth. I don't know how long I stayed like that. Minutes? Hours? Days? Time had lost all meaning. Am I in heaven? I wondered. Is this what it feels like to be at peace?
But just as I started to embrace the serenity, I felt a strange force pushing me. Not harshly, but insistently, like something was trying to nudge me forward. At first, I resisted—I mean, why would I leave this warm, peaceful place? But then I thought, what could go wrong? I was already dead. So, I let myself be pushed.
The next thing I knew, I felt something—or someone—grabbing my legs.
Before I could even process what was happening, I was yanked forward, and then... someone smacked me on the bum.
"Ouch! Ow! What the—" I wanted to yell, but instead, a shrill baby cry escaped my lips. Wait... what?
"This is the last one, oh gosh, I'm dead tired," muttered the voice of the person holding me.
What do you mean "the last one"? I thought in confusion. Where the hell am I?
Suddenly, exhaustion hit me like a wave, and before I could make sense of anything, I was asleep. It wasn't the peaceful, warm sleep I had been in before. This was different. I had been reborn.
When I woke up again, the realization hit me: I had reincarnated. I had just been born.
Honestly, I'm a huge fan of isekai stories. Always have been. The idea of getting transported to a new world with a fresh start and amazing powers? What's not to love? So, waking up in this new life... it was kind of thrilling. I've always hated the idea of transmigration, though—who wants to deal with someone else's mess? But reincarnation? That's exciting.
Yay! I just got isekai'd! I wonder if I'm the villainess or something.
Either way, this is going to be fun.