It was evening, the sun was almost setting.
People were out for their usual evening walks—some with their children, others strolling with their pets, while a few walked hand in hand with their partners, lost in quiet companionship. Among them was a 22-year-old man, completely different from the rest. His face was devoid of any emotion, hair unkempt, eyes sunken, and body frail. As he watched the people around him, a thought crossed his mind:
"Look at them... Seems like happiness is something they can hold onto, like it's just there in their hands. As if they were born knowing how to keep it. Meanwhile, I watch it slip through my fingers like sand, no matter how tightly I try to grasp it... It slips... It slips... It slips..."
He stopped outside a café, peering in through the glass window. Inside, people were enjoying the rich aroma and taste of freshly brewed coffee. He reached into his pocket and checked his money. There was barely enough.
"Not even enough for a damn biscuit."
He sighed and turned towards a roadside tea stall. Sitting down, he barely acknowledged the chaiwala.
"You didn't go to work today?"
"No… I've got the night shift again."
"Hmm."
In no time, a steaming glass of tea was placed in front of him. Without looking around, he lifted the glass and took a sip.
"There he is..."
A heavy kick landed on Shyama's back, slamming his face against the table. A rough hand grabbed his hair, yanking his head up. The man in front of him was a well-built brute, the kind that commanded fear. People called him Seth.
"So, you're sitting here enjoying tea while you still owe me money? When the fuck are you going to pay up?"
"I'll pay soon... I swear."
"Oh yeah? How the fuck am I supposed to believe that? You've been saying the same shit for a year now, and you haven't paid a single rupee. How long are you planning to keep up this bullshit?"
"I-I know I've lied a lot… but I promise, I'll clear everything soon."
Seth slammed Shyama's head down onto the table again.
"Soon? When exactly?"
Through a scrambled voice, Shyama muttered, "Six months... I'll pay everything in six months."
Seth leaned in, bringing his ear close to his mouth.
"What? What did you say? I didn't hear shit."
"Boss, he said six months."
Seth turned and glared.
"Did I fucking ask you? Your tongue's running a bit too much, huh?"
"S-sorry, boss."
Seth turned back to Shyama.
"Alright, say it again. When will you pay up?"
"Six months... I swear... I'll pay."
Seth burst into laughter.
"Six months? How the fuck are you gonna pull that off? You waiting for a lottery or some shit?"
Suddenly, his mood shifted. With a loud BANG, he slammed his hand on the table.
"Fine. You've got six more months. But if you don't pay me back by then…"
He leaned in, his breath hot against Shyama's face. "I'll sell every fucking organ in your body to recover my money. Got it?"
Seth let go of Shyama's hair and stood up.
"Let's go, boys."
"But boss, shouldn't we teach him a lesson first?"
"Hmm… You're right."
Before Seth could act, the old chaiwala spoke up in a trembling voice.
"P-please… Whatever you need to do, do it outside. This is my shop."
Seth shot him a sharp glare.
"Huh?... Relax, old man. We're not gonna wreck your shitty stall."
Turning back to Shyama, he sneered.
"Guess today's your lucky day. I'm in a good mood. Otherwise, I'd have beaten you so bad you'd remember it for life. Besides, you've got six months to gather 200,000 rupees. If I kill you now, who's gonna arrange the money?"
He turned to his gang.
"Let's go."
As Seth and his gang walked away, the chaiwala came closer to Shyama.
"You should leave too."
Shyama got up, reached into his pocket, and placed some coins on the table.
"You don't have to pay."
"Take it. It's not like this money will help clear my debt anyway."
And with that, he walked away.
He looks up at the sky and wipes his bleeding nose on his sleeves. By now, the sun had completely set, casting a soft glow over the streets. Shyama walked with his hands in his pockets, lost in thought.
"Another shitty day."
A kid's ball rolled and stopped near his feet. He picked it up, looking at the boy for a moment before handing it back with a faint smile.
"Here, take it."
The boy hesitated before grabbing the ball and running back to his mother. Shyama watched them disappear into the crowd.
"What a pathetic life."
He weaved through the streets, eventually reaching a rusty staircase that led to the rooftop of a building. Just as he placed his foot on the first step, his phone rang.
"Now what?"
It was his boss. He let it ring.
"Another damn headache."
A few seconds later, it rang again. Still his boss. This time, he cut the call.
Again, the phone rang.
"For fuck's sake, does he have nothing better to do?"
He picked up.
"Hello?"
A furious voice barked through the speaker.
"Are you fucking insane? Why weren't you answering my calls? You think you're some hotshot now? Pick up the damn phone the first time, or next time, I'll fire your ass. Then you can beg on the streets. Not that anyone would give a shit about a loser like you, dumbfuck."
Shyama let out a sarcastic chuckle.
"Heh…"
"Are you laughing? Who the fuck do you think you are, you piece of—"
Before he could finish, Shyama cut him off.
"Listen, you dumbfuck… Go to hell. And take your shitty job with you. In fact, shove your phone up your ass, you bastard."
"You think you can talk to me like that? You're fucking fired, asshole—"
Shyama placed the phone on the steps without ending the call.
"Let the bastard bark."
And he continued climbing.
Reaching the rooftop, he took a deep breath.
His eyes landed on a man standing near the edge, smoking a cigarette.
Shyama walked up to him.
"Hey boss, got a cig?"
"Huh?"
"Actually, I don't have any money–"
The man handed him a half-smoked cigarette.
"Here, take it. Not like you'll forget this generosity."
"Thanks, boss."
"What's your name?"
"Shyama."
"Weird name. Any story behind it?"
Shyama took a drag.
"Yeah… I was born on a no-moon night. I guess my parents thought it was fitting. That's what I think, anyway. What about you?"
"I'm Abhay."
"Hmm… So you work here?"
"Yeah. In this building."
His phone rang.
"Hello? Yeah, yeah, I'll be home soon… Okay honey."
"Alright, I gotta go. My wife's waiting. If I'm late, no dinner for me. See you around."
"Sure."
"Oh, by the way, it's a full moon tonight. Maybe you should wish for a better life."
Shyama nodded, watching him leave.
"So, even he can tell my life's completely fucked… Figures."
He walked to the edge of the rooftop and sat down, dangling his legs over the side.
The city stretched out below him—streets glowing under streetlights, roads packed with cars, sidewalks bustling with people. Some were entering shops, some were leaving, some were eating on benches, while others stagger drunkenly.
"How the hell do these people manage to stay so happy?"
"Tsk, damn it." He flicks the cigarette away with a tired sigh. He looks down at the people walking along the road.
"People talk so much… This world is just so damn noisy."
"I wonder… If I disappear today, how long will it take for my absence to fade into this background noise? A month? No, a week? Or maybe… maybe not even a second. Maybe it'll be like I was never even here."
"Hah! I want a better life, God! Are you even listening?! Fine, don't listen!!!"
"I want to leave this world… but will the world stop after I'm gone? Of course not. What the hell am I even saying…? Heh, I'm not some bigshot whose death will shake the world. Nothing will change. Everything will remain the same… except I won't be here anymore."
Then his gaze shifts upward, towards the moon.
"Oh wow… the moon looks so clear tonight. Listen, God, you sent me into this world on a no-moon night, cursed with bad luck. But today… today, I'm ending my life on the night of a full moon. So please, in my next life, give me something better. Send me somewhere better…"
He starts to stand up.
"Careful, Shyama… Don't slip and die like an idiot. If I'm going, I'll go with a proper jump… Let's make this jump count."
He stands tall, arms stretched wide. The wind brushes against his skin.
"Hey! Look! What's that guy doing up there?"
"OY! ARE YOU CRAZY? GET DOWN!!!"
Shyama suddenly loses balance—
'Oh, shit—!!!'
A shock runs through his heart as he falls.
He jumped.
He falls straight down in front of the onlookers. From that height, his blood splatters everywhere—some droplets even land on a man's food plate. The spot where he lands turns into a pool of red.
Some people scream. Some freeze in shock. Others… pull out their phones and start recording.
___________________________________________________________
"Ah… the pain… unbearable pain… It feels like my head just… exploded."
"Huh?"
Shyama opens his eyes.
He's in a different world. No cars, the roads are spotless, and only a few people walk around.
"Good morning," a man greets him as he passes by.
"Eh…? Y-yeah… Good morning…" Shyama mumbles, confused. 'What is this place? It's so… beautiful. Feels like I'm in some kind of Victorian-era world maybe magical world?. Is this a dream?'
He looks at his body.
Wait… could it be? Did I… end up in a new world? Has God actually heard me?
Shyama starts running across the streets, laughing.
"Did you hear that?! I'M IN A NEW WORLD!!! WOOHOO, NOW IT'LL BE AN ISEKAI ADVENTURE!!!"
But then… he stops.
"Wait… who… am I?"
Shyama's face glitches.
He suddenly felt a jolt in his head— a sharp, piercing pain shot through him. "Ahhhh—" he screamed and stumbles to the ground, holding his head. After a while, he slowly stands up again… and starts walking normally like everyone else.
"Good morning."
"Good morning."
Shyama had forgotten everything—how he got here, who he was. He was moving like an NPC in a game.
As he walks, he suddenly notices people running toward him.
"RUN! RUN!!!"
Shyama pauses. The crowd rushes past him, panicked.
Then, he sees him—a badly injured man, body covered in wounds, wielding a sword.
"WHERE ARE YOU RUNNING, YOU BASTARDS?! STOP!!!"