Chapter 1: No One Notices a Missing GhostThe morning was quiet in the wrong way—like a film left on pause, not on purpose, but because the viewer walked away and forgot it was playing at all.
I wasn't suicidal, not really. But I was... tired. Of breathing like it was a job. Of moving just because gravity insisted. Days stacked like old newspapers in a hoarder's attic, and I was buried somewhere underneath.
I used to love stories. That's probably what made all this harder. Knowing what better worlds looked like. I had all these anime downloaded on an old drive—Monogatari included. That one stuck with me. Its awkward poetry, broken girls, a guy trying to fix them while clearly needing fixing himself. Felt like looking into a cracked mirror.
I don't remember what I was doing when it happened. Probably walking to nowhere, earbuds in, hoodie up, eyes on the pavement. The moment everything changed came with no announcement. No truck. No lightning bolt. Just a... slip.
Like I tripped on reality.
One blink and the streets of Chicago disappeared. Another blink and—
Blood. Heat. Moonlight like melted steel. A scent like copper and ash.
I was in the middle of a back alley, body intact, heart racing. But not because I was confused.
No. I recognized this.
This was the world of Kizumonogatari.
I knew this alley. I knew what had just happened here. I knew that just a block or two away, Araragi Koyomi had stumbled onto a dying vampire, her limbs scattered like broken toys, her blood soaking the pavement like ink spilled from a divine pen.
That meant it was spring break.
That meant I had about an hour before hell broke loose.
I laughed. Actually laughed. It came out raw and ugly, like coughing up glass.
"Of all the places," I said, my voice hoarse in the night. "You really put me here?"
There was no answer. Of course there wasn't. This wasn't a game. Not an anime screening. And I wasn't a protagonist.
But I was here.
And I did know what was going to happen.
I shoved my hands into my jacket pocket—same one I wore back home. Somehow, it had come with me. Inside was my phone. Dead. No signal. No apps. No music.
Just one file in the gallery: a single frame of Kiss-shot Acerola-orion Heart-under-blade, smiling with blood on her lips.
"Of course," I muttered.