AYD slumped on the couch, fingers flicking through yet another episode of an anime he'd rewatched for the fourth time this month. The house around him was alive with the sounds of his family—the soft hum of his younger sister humming while diligently organizing her schoolwork, his mom bustling in the kitchen.

The familiar noises of his home were a constant reminder of his position in the family: the reluctant, sometimes grumpy older sibling. He watched his sister, his younger sibling, as she worked. Her focus was undisturbed, a stark contrast to his scattered attention. His mind wandered, drifting between thoughts of the endless piles of homework, his own vague dreams of a better life, and the minor annoyances of daily existence. Life had become routine—a cycle of avoidance, resentment, and muted ambitions.

"AYD!" his mom's sharp voice cut through the air. "Go get the groceries. The list is on the fridge."

"Why can't she do it?" AYD groaned, waving in the general direction of his sister's room without looking up from his phone.

"Because she's busy with her studies, and you… well, you're not. Get up. Now."

AYD rolled his eyes and dragged himself off the couch, muttering under his breath, "Of course, she's perfect. She's the queen of everything. Let's all bow down to the great and mighty younger sister."

"Maybe if you made yourself useful, you wouldn't need to," his mom shot back, a mixture of exasperation and amusement in her voice. Her words stung, but AYD didn't let it show.

Grabbing the list from the fridge, AYD stuffed it into his pocket and stomped out of the house. "Why me?" he muttered under his breath. "I don't even eat half the stuff on this list."

The sun was hidden behind thick clouds, casting a muted, gray light over the streets. AYD's feet dragged with every step, weighed down by his reluctance. His hoodie's oversized hood was pulled up, as if to block out the world around him—or perhaps, if he was honest, to hide from it. Life had become a blur of routine. Each day was the same, with the small frustrations of getting yelled at or watching anime that seemed to lead to nowhere, leaving him in a place he could not escape.

Even when he tried to imagine something different, something better, it always felt just out of reach, like a dream fading with the morning light.

"I bet Sis would've gotten a pat on the back for volunteering," he grumbled, kicking a stone on the sidewalk. In his mind, she was the golden child, the one who always got praised for her efforts, while AYD was left to handle the "dirty work."His thoughts turned inward, lost in self-pity. "I'm just a side character in this family. The one who's always left in the background."

The air-conditioned cool of the grocery store was a blessed relief from the stupid, awful, humid, oppressive heat outside. AYD entered the store with the resigned sense of an average teenager embarking on a mission they had no desire to complete, or a gamer who had to complete some useless puzzles or side quests to progress the story.

He grabbed a basket, absently checking off items from the list as he wandered down the aisles. Milk. Eggs. Some weird organic vegetable his mom insisted on buying for some health fad she was currently obsessed with. The basket grew heavier with every item, each one adding to his growing sense of annoyance.

And then his phone buzzed.

"Don't forget the milk this time, bro"

His scowl deepened. It was from his younger sister. She had the nerve to remind him, the one who had to deal with the grocery store runs, to get milk. AYD couldn't help but feel a surge of irritation. She was the forgetful one. She'd ask him to pick up things she could have easily remembered if she'd cared enough. But no. Because she didn't have to do the shopping, no one ever noticed her forgetfulness.

"Why do I always get the short end of the stick?" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. This trip, he thought, would be just like all the others—boring, long, and completely devoid of any excitement. Until…

He stopped in his tracks.

Tucked away in a small corner display, almost glowing under the harsh fluorescent lights, was something that made his heart skip a beat: Ultra-Rare Limited Edition One Piece Volume 1.

The manga was a collector's dream. It wasn't just any edition; it was a first print, complete with exclusive character art and a poster. AYD's fingers twitched, and his heart raced as his eyes scanned over it. The thought of holding it, of owning it, was almost too much to resist. He'd heard rumors about this particular edition, stories of its rarity, its value. His hands itched to reach for it.

But then, his eyes fell on the price tag.

The numbers stared back at him. It was nearly as much as all the groceries combined. No, wait—it was more than the groceries. The weight of that realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He imagined his mom's voice ringing in his ears:

"You better not come home without everything on that list."

But the manga—it called to him. The glossy pages, the beautiful art, the promise of a world far removed from his own—a world of adventure, camaraderie, and purpose.

The characters in One Piece fought for their dreams, defied the odds, and risked their lives for a purpose. Even if that purpose meant facing death, they did it with a smile on their faces, knowing they had lived fully. There was something about that—a sort of peace in knowing that even in death, there was fulfillment.

Would he die with a smile on his face? Would his life ever have that kind of meaning, the kind that made death seem like a worthy end? Or would he die in the same way he lived—trapped in his own dissatisfaction or, even having discovered his purpose?

And finally, it was the weight of responsibility that crushed him. He wanted to be a good son and play his part in the family, and that desire outbalanced the siren call of the manga. He let out a heavy sigh and turned away from the display case, this momentary dream of owning the rare collectors slipping away like sand through his fingers.

"Why me?" he muttered again, stuffing the receipt into his pocket as he made his way to the checkout counter.

The walk home was slower than it had been before. The groceries dug into his hands, their weight matching the weight of his thoughts. He couldn't shake the image of the manga, the thought of what it could have meant if only he could've bought it. The idea of being one of those characters in that manga—living a life full of purpose, where every action meant something.

Sure, it would have been dangerous. Sure, it would have been life-threatening. But the characters didn't care about that. They died with smiles on their faces, knowing they had lived for something bigger than themselves. They had a purpose. He didn't have that.

Lost in his thoughts, AYD almost didn't notice the truck coming toward him. It roared down the street, the sound of its engine deafening in his ears. He had just stepped off the curb when the blaring horn yanked him back to reality.

The world seemed to slow. His heart raced. Time stretched.

"Oh, come on," he whispered, his breath catching as the massive vehicle filled his vision. The blinding headlights made everything else fade away. His life flashed before his eyes, but instead of being a montage of meaningful moments, it was filled with… anime and memes.

He realized then how little connection he had with his family. How, at this moment, he didn't even think about them. His thoughts were consumed with his own dissatisfaction. He didn't want to be a superhero, or a fighter, or a character in some anime. What he wanted, more than anything, was to feel the warmth of a loving family. A family who truly saw him—not just the 'older brother' or the 'helper' but someone who mattered, someone who was loved.

"Damn,"

And so, his wish was granted.