Yo, dear readers.
Author here.
So, I am back again with a new story. I know I know, my past works are still pending. You know what? I can't give a shit about them at the moment since I don't have any inspiration.
I will continue them when I find some, till then, I am trying my hand in something completely new for me.
Hope you guys enjoy.
Peace.
---
Uncertainty is the only certainty in life. Nothing is guaranteed; everything depends on variables—an infinite number of them.
That's why I never wasted time obsessing over the future. If life is inherently unpredictable, all I could do was keep moving forward, hoping for the best—or at least wishing for a life that wouldn't leave me homeless. I never needed much: just a roof over my head, food to keep me going, and clothes to keep me warm.
Still, maybe a part of me was hoping for more.
Hoping to live a long life...
"Someone call an ambulance!"
"There's so much blood!"
"Mama, what's happening?"
"Don't look, sweetheart. Close your eyes..."
Ha. I never thought it would end like this.
The world spun around me as I lay in a growing pool of blood. Not exactly the kind of ending I'd pictured for myself. Not a heroic blaze of glory. Just... dumb luck and poor choices. I slipped from my apartment balcony—five stories up—because I thought sitting on the railing was a good idea. God, I'm an idiot.
"Stay with us, kid! Help is on the way!"
I could barely make out the words. The old man's face swam in my fading vision, etched with an expression I hadn't expected: concern. It was my landlord—a man I'd always despised. Grumpy, stingy, and downright insufferable, he didn't seem like the type to care if I lived or died.
Still, there he was, kneeling by my side, eyes wide with worry. It was almost touching. Almost.
"You still owe me rent, you know!"
Yeah, screw you, too, old man. I hope you lose your glasses and your dentures at the same time!
The lights around me blurred, dimming like someone was turning the world's brightness down to zero. The chaos faded into muffled noise, and my heartbeat slowed, each thud a countdown to the inevitable.
Honestly, life is unpredictable. And while I didn't have many regrets, a few stung as they flitted through my mind. Like not finishing high school. Or missing out on that bonus I was so close to earning at the part-time job I'd thrown myself into.
My boss is going to have to find a new workhorse. She can't manage everything on her own. I hope she finds someone to help her. May she find happiness in her life.
And, boss? Your tits were amazing—
---
"Stop staring at me, creep. You're like, so gross."
Well, damn. Talk about a potty mouth. Was this a memory? A flashback of my pitiful life? Did my brain decide to remind me what a loser I was as my grand finale? Not cool, brain. I command you to show me something else.
"... What?"
That was all I could say as the woman in front of me glared into my eyes as if she had seen something disgusting. Oi oi, what did I do? And what the hell is happening?
"Stop pretending. I know what a creep you are. You're always listening to us from your little apartment, aren't you? Like a virgin stalker who doesn't have a life. Seriously, people like you disgust me."
I tuned out the little bitch to instead focus on my surroundings. We were in a hallway of sorts, and right behind me was an apartment that looked familiar. Too familiar. This doesn't make sense at all. Wasn't I dying? Who was this bitch? I have never met anyone like her in my life.
Seriously, what the fuck is going on?
"What? Don't have anything to say? Figures. A pervert and a wimp. No wonder you give off these vibes. You can't even hold a proper conversation."
"Shut it, bitch. I am trying to think."
That seemed to have done the trick, judging by her gobsmacked expression. What? You thought I would be polite after your continuous hounding? Ask my landlord. He would give you a whole dictionary of cusses I have used on him.
"W-what did you just call me?!"
Before I could say anything else, a jolt shot through my brain as a few visages of memories flooded my mind. It all happened in a flash, and soon enough, I wasn't panicking as much as before.
My name, or at least the name of my predecessor, is Yuuto Kido, a second-year high school student. He is a typical guy with nothing remarkable about him except for two over-excelling siblings and doting parents.
Just a month ago, Yuuto decided to transfer schools at the last moment and left the house he shared with his family to here, in an apartment far from home. The reason? Some of the girls he was acquainted with, ended up having sex with his siblings. One of them was someone he truly liked, who in the end, indirectly told him to mind his own business.
Well, Yuuto, I hate to break it to you, but you're not the only guy who can't get laid.
"Is that any way to talk to an elder? I can't believe I have to share a building with someone like you!"
"Oh, just shut up. Do you know how tough it is to stay in the apartment next to yours? You and your husband are both so damn loud!"
Before she could go off on me again, I decided to cut her short. This was Yuuto's neighbour—a gorgeous woman in her mid-twenties who lived with her husband. From what I'd gathered, she couldn't stand Yuuto, and he never had the backbone to call her out.
Last week, she had a blowout fight with her husband—probably found out he was cheating. Since then, she'd been in full-blown bitch mode, taking her frustration out on everyone around her.
Not that she was much better before. Even on a good day, she'd mock Yuuto, calling him names like "Virgin Loser" behind his back. The walls between their apartments were so thin he heard every word.
And it wasn't just the insults. He got a front-row seat to every argument, every tantrum, and, unfortunately, every passionate loud night she spent with her husband.
Honestly, it's a miracle the guy didn't lose his mind.
"Look," I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Just stop. Don't talk to me, don't even look at me, and I'll gladly return the favour. If you need someone to scream at, try your husband. He's probably out screwing around anyway. Leave me out of your drama."
"You—"
"Yeah, I'm done here."
Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked away, heading down the stairs toward my bike. It was morning already, and I had to prepare for school tomorrow. It's a new beginning for me, after all. Quite literally.
So, I died. And now I'm stuck in the body of a high schooler whose life is, frankly, a complete mess. Not that it bothers me much. His problems seem trivial compared to the crap I dealt with. Seriously, if you can't get laid, just pay for it. Why spiral into "I should die" territory? Grow up.
I have no clue what's going on, but based on the memories I've inherited, this world isn't the one I remember. Everything's slightly... off. The schools, the celebrities—they're familiar yet completely different. Things that didn't exist in my world are suddenly big deals here. It's weird.
Even the date is different from what I remember. This is definitely not the world I know.
"Life really is unpredictable, isn't it?"
Nothing is ever certain.
I let out a sigh, climbed onto the bicycle, and started pedalling away. Like I said, I'm not the type to overthink things. Whether I've actually been transmigrated or I'm just trapped in some weird coma-induced dream doesn't really matter. Whatever this is, I'll deal with it.
All I know is I have to keep moving forward. And not die by falling off a damn railing this time.