Chapter 3: "The Day My Blood Painted the Floor" or Death Is Not the End

  With the bat in hand, I returned to Natsumi and the others gathered in the gym. I raised my voice so everyone could hear me over the panicked whispers.

  "All of you, help anyone who's injured and head to the second locker room on the right. There's a door there that leads straight to the infirmary. You can barricade yourselves inside and treat the wounded. Also..." —I took a deep breath— "it might be a big ask, but if any of you can fight, please stay. We need to buy some time for the others to escape."

  For a moment, no one moved. Then, a boy stepped forward, his hands trembling slightly but his eyes filled with resolve.

  "I'll stay," he said. "My name is Fumihiko. I've been a coward all my life, but I won't die a coward." He hesitated, then asked, "But... aren't you scared?"

  "Scared?" I repeated, gripping the bat tighter. "Of course I'm scared, Fumihiko. I'm terrified. I feel like my heart's about to explode." My voice grew sharper, stronger. "But I can't just stand here and watch as chaos erupts around me. I want to survive—I want to keep living—and for that, actions have to be taken."

  I gave him a nod. "Anyway, thank you for your support, Fumihiko. But we have to move now. You and I will stay and buy some time for the others to get to safety. After that, we'll hide too and wait for the police to come. Understood?"

  "Understood," they all said in unison.

  My breathing steadied as I turned back toward the steel door, my knuckles whitening around the bat’s handle. I could hear it now—the heavy footsteps of the gang member drawing closer.

  I took a deep breath, my heartbeat pounding like war drums in my ears.

  My breath was ragged. My hands trembled as I tightened my grip on the bat. The hallway was eerily silent now—only distant screams and hurried footsteps echoed faintly as the st of the students managed to escape. Beside me, Fumihiko stood firm, fists clenched, gring at the gang member approaching us.

  The man, dressed in dark clothing with his face half-hidden beneath a mask, stepped forward arrogantly. The metallic glint of his gun reflected the dim school lights. My pulse pounded in my ears, but I forced myself to stay calm.

  "I’ll hold him off," I muttered under my breath.

  Fumihiko turned to me, eyes wide with concern. "Are you crazy?"

  Before he could say anything else, the gang member raised his gun and took aim. I didn’t think—I acted. I swung the bat with all the strength I had, striking the barrel just as he pulled the trigger. The shot went wide, shattering a nearby window. The bat's impact sent the gun skidding across the floor.

  "YOU BASTARDS!" the gang member screamed, clutching his hand in pain.

  Without hesitation, Fumihiko lunged, tackling the man to the ground. They rolled across the floor, struggling violently. I jumped in, trying to pin the man down, while Fumihiko wrapped his arms around his neck, squeezing with everything he had.

  Seconds felt like minutes. My heart thudded painfully in my chest as the man thrashed under Fumihiko’s grip. But finally—finally—the gang member's movements slowed… and then stopped. Fumihiko let go, chest heaving as he stumbled back.

  "I think... he’s out," he panted.

  I knelt beside him. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, I’m fine. My ears are still ringing from that shot, but otherwise I'm okay," he said, trying to smile. "But next time, could you at least prepare me first?! When I saw the gun, I froze! Thank god you deflected the bullet or I'd be dead."

  "Yeah... Sorry. I didn’t have time to expin." I forced a shaky ugh. "But do you think more of them are gonna come this way after hearing the gunfire?"

  Before Fumihiko could answer, a chilling ugh echoed behind us.

  Our heads snapped toward the sound. Horror washed over me.

  The gang member was stirring—his eyes burning with rage.

  Before we could move, he reached into his jacket and pulled out another weapon—a handgun.

  Two sharp cracks split the air.

  Fumihiko jerked violently. His eyes widened in shock. One bullet tore through his left arm; the other buried itself in his leg. His scream tore at my heart—raw and agonized.

  "Fumihiko!" I cried out, moving to help him—but the gang member leveled the gun at my head.

  "Don’t move, boy," he sneered. "You thought choking me would be enough? We’re trained for this shit. You’re just a stupid kid." He flexed his injured hand, the knuckles cracking. "And you... you’ve really pissed me off."

  I clenched my fists. My mind raced. I have to get that gun away from him. But how...?

  An idea sparked.

  "Pathetic," I spat. "You really need a gun to beat a kid?"

  For a moment, the man just stared at me—expressionless. Then irritation flickered across his face.

  "Brave words for someone about to bleed out." He smirked and tossed the gun aside. "Fine. No weapons. Let’s see how tough you really are."

  I didn’t hesitate. Gripping the bat tighter, I charged.

  But he dodged effortlessly. Before I could react, his fist smmed into my gut, knocking the air from my lungs. I stumbled, the bat slipping from my hands.

  I forced myself back up, using the bat like a cane. I remade my stance. Ready.

  The man chuckled. "I said hand-to-hand, and you’re still holding that bat?"

  He moved again—quick and precise—a jab aimed at my ribs. This time, I dodged, using the bat as a shield to deflect the blow and redirect him. As he stumbled slightly, I struck—full force—with my elbow to his face.

  It wasn’t luck. It was instinct. Two years of middle school judo... I never thought it would matter. But now, every throw, every counter was flooding back to me.

  The man fell back but recovered quickly, though I saw the blur in his movements. I had done some real damage.

  We squared off, both breathing hard.

  "I’m impressed," the man said, smiling darkly. "Who would've thought a schoolboy could actually fight?"

  I smirked, silently thanking my past self for those judo csses.

  We cshed again. I used the reach advantage of the bat, keeping him just far enough to nd strikes on his ribs and arms. My injured shoulder screamed with every movement, and my energy was draining fast—but so was his. His punches slowed, becoming sloppy.

  Seeing an opening, I rushed him.

  He didn’t dodge. He stepped forward and nded a punch—weak, but enough to throw me off bance. He grabbed my arm and flipped me over his shoulder.

  I twisted mid-air, pnting my hand and nding on my feet.

  But the bat slipped from my fingers.

  He snatched it up immediately, looking down at me with a wicked grin.

  "Looks like the tables have turned," he said mockingly. "And since you didn’t respect our little deal, I’ll change the rules too."

  My body froze in panic.

  Think, Haruki, THINK!

  But before I could act, he casually tossed the bat aside.

  "It’d be morally wrong to use your weapon against you," he said with a mocking ugh. "But that doesn’t mean I’ll go easy."

  His hand reached to the back of his belt.

  I saw the smile on his face before I saw the bde.

  My heart stopped.

  "Aha… this'll do just fine."

  A knife.

  "WHAT?! You just said it’d be morally wrong—and now you pull out a FUCKING KNIFE?!" I screamed inside my mind.

  He lunged.

  I raised my arms, trying to block, trying to dodge—but he was faster. His sshes tore into me. Blood sprayed from my forearms, my skin burning.

  I couldn’t even tell where the cuts were anymore. My whole body was just pain.

  He was trying to end it now, going for my face. I barely dodged, but a red line opened across my cheek.

  We stood face to face, both panting.

  Suddenly, the radio crackled on the floor.

  "Ey, dumbass. We got the girl. We’re done here. Grab your shit and get out before the cops show up."

  The gang member’s eyes narrowed.

  "Looks like we accomplished our goal... but I’m not done here yet."

  I tensed. I could barely stay upright.

  He lunged again.

  I tried to move—tried—but my legs wouldn’t listen.

  The knife plunged into my thigh.

  I screamed.

  The bde tore out savagely, ripping flesh and muscle. Blood poured down my leg, hot and fast.

  I slumped against the wall, shaking uncontrolbly.

  The man loomed over me. Cold, pitiless.

  "This has been fun," he said. "But I’ve got pces to be."

  He charged again, ramming the knife into my stomach. The force smmed me into the wall, driving the bde deeper.

  He twisted it.

  The pain was indescribable. A wet, choking gasp escaped me. Blood filled my mouth. My knees gave out, and I colpsed onto the cold gym floor.

  My hand reached feebly for the knife’s handle—but everything was fading. Darkening.

  The man crouched beside me, smirking.

  "I wouldn’t pull that out if I were you. Five minutes, max, and you’ll bleed out." He ughed softly. "Admirable, really—the way you fought. But tell me something… Why fight so hard? You could’ve just run."

  I trembled, barely breathing.

  Slowly, painfully, I raised my gaze... toward the locker room entrance.

  He followed my line of sight—and froze —then a cruel smile appeard

  But I still looked up.

  And I smiled.

  Not for him.

  But for me.

  "I… couldn’t run," I rasped, barely a whisper. "She needed… time."

  The masked man stared at me for a long second. No pity. No anger. Just silence.

  Then he crouched.

  "You're a fool," he muttered. "You threw your life away for someone you barely knew."

  He raised the gun.

  I didn’t look away.

  I wasn’t brave. God, I was terrified. My fingers twitched. My stomach felt like it had caved in. My chest burned. My body screamed for me to beg, to plead, to cry. But… I couldn’t.

  Because somehow, in all the pain, in all the fear, in this absolute end—

  I felt peace.

  She’s alive and by now she was safe.

  And that’s enough.

  His finger twitched.

  Fsh.

  Darkness.

  I blinked.

  White.

  But not a comforting white. Not light through clouds or warm sunlight. This was nothingness. Just pure, ft, infinite white in every direction.

  No air. No ground. No up or down.

  No heartbeat.

  I looked around, or at least I tried. My body didn’t respond the way it used to. There was no resistance, no weight. I wasn’t standing, but I wasn’t lying down either.

  I was just… here.

  Am I dead?

  The thought didn’t come in a scream. It came like a whisper into a deep, still ke—soft, but the ripples spread fast.

  I died. I think I did.

  School. The hallway. Reina. Guns. Screams. Blood.

  Natsumi.

  Her voice. That final moment. The look in her eyes. Her hand reaching toward mine—

  My breath caught, but there was no breath. No lungs. My chest didn’t rise, and that terrified me more than anything.

  “Where… where am I?” My voice sounded strange, like it wasn’t passing through air at all. It just existed in the space around me.

  Silence.

  Total, consuming silence.

  Then—movement.

  I flinched.

  There was someone—something—approaching from far ahead. A figure. Humanoid, but not quite. The closer they got, the more I realized they didn’t walk; they just… arrived. As if distance didn’t mean anything in this pce.

  Their form shimmered. They had no clear face. No eyes, no mouth, yet I could feel their presence like pressure in my mind.

  I backed away—if you could even do that in a pce with no ground.

  “What… are you?” I asked, the fear finally catching up to me. “Where am I?!”

  The figure stopped. Its form pulsed faintly, almost like breathing.

  “I am here to ask you a question,” it said—not aloud, but straight into my skull.

  My skin—or whatever I had now—prickled. I couldn’t tell if it was speaking in my nguage or if it just bypassed that entirely.

  I swallowed, or tried to. “A question?”

  “Yes.”

  It didn’t move. It didn’t blink. It didn’t do anything but exist—and yet, I felt its eyes on me, like I was being studied. Like something ancient and incomprehensible was sizing me up.

  “You have died,” it said ftly. “Your time in that world is over.”

  My legs buckled. Except they didn’t, because they weren’t there.

  “I… I know,” I murmured.

  “Do you regret how you lived?” it asked.

  I stared.

  “What?”

  The question hit me like a punch. Not because I didn’t understand it—but because it was the one I’d never dared ask myself.

  “I… I don’t know,” I said, suddenly defensive. “I mean—what kind of question is that? I was just a kid. I didn’t get a chance to live.”

  “You existed. You made choices. You had desires. You wasted time.”

  My chest tightened. “That’s not fair…”

  “Life is not fair.”

  “Then why ask me that?” I snapped, the tension boiling over. “What do you want from me? To apologize? To beg?”

  It tilted its head slightly. A human gesture—but it didn’t make it feel any more human.

  “No. I want to understand you.”

  My anger faltered. “Understand… me?”

  “Yes. Why do you cling to your past life when it was so unfulfilled? What keeps you from letting go?”

  That question stopped me cold.

  I should’ve had a thousand answers, but all I could say was: “I don’t want to disappear.”

  There it was. The truth, pulled out of me like a splinter.

  “I don’t want to vanish like none of it ever happened. I don’t want to forget Daiki or Kaito… or Natsumi. I don’t want to become nothing.”

  The being didn’t respond for a long time.

  Then it spoke again, gentler this time: “Do you wish to live again?”

  I froze. “…What?”

  “In another world. A different life. Not as a continuation—but as a beginning.”

  My mouth went dry.

  Why? Why offer me that? What kind of being has the right to do that?

  “I don’t know you,” I said, cautious now. “You could be lying. You could be some demon or trickster. Why would you give me something like that?”

  “Because you are not finished,” it said simply. “And I… am not merciless.”

  I ughed bitterly. “You’re telling me that this—whatever this is—is mercy?”

  “Would you prefer oblivion?”

  The words punched through me.

  “No,” I admitted.

  “Then answer me clearly,” the voice said, closer now. “If I give you life again, in another pce… will you live it fully?”

  I looked down. Or maybe inward. I wasn’t sure.

  “I think I was scared of living,” I said slowly. “Always waiting. Always thinking I had time. And then—when it finally mattered—I did something. But it was too te.”

  “You faced death with courage,” it said. “You tried to protect others.”

  “I wasn’t brave. I was desperate.”

  “That is still a form of bravery.”

  I didn’t respond.

  “If you are reborn, it will not be easy. You will be alone. You will remember everything. But you will start from nothing. No status. No nguage. No identity.”

  I looked up at the formless being, something cold twisting in my stomach.

  “Why me?”

  It paused. Then, finally:

  “Because you asked for your life to be more like an adventure.”

  I stared.

  That dumb thought from earlier. A wish I barely meant.

  “…Are you serious?”

  Its light pulsed, and I swear it was smiling. “More than you know.”

  I looked at the hand it offered—if you could call it a hand. The shape of a gesture more than the thing itself.

  I hesitated. My pulse—if I had one—raced.

  “I’m scared,” I whispered.

  “That is good. It means you understand the value of what you’ve lost.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to forget them.

  But I didn’t want to vanish either.

  Slowly, with every ounce of trembling courage I had left, I reached forward and touched it.

  And the world shattered.

  The light around me fred, and the white void shattered into pieces, fading into darkness.

  Sound filtered in.

  Muted voices. A woman humming. Something… rhythmic. Like footsteps? Or… no—rocking.

  I couldn’t open my eyes, not fully. My body felt heavy. Weak. Like I was underwater.

  Everything was wrong.

  My limbs weren’t responding. My fingers twitched but had no strength. My head lolled without control.

  Panic surged through me.

  What’s happening? Why can’t I move?

  I tried to speak, to cry out, but all that came out was a pathetic mewl.

  Soft fabric wrapped around me. A gentle pressure cradled me. I was being held.

  I cracked my eyes open.

  Blurry colors. A face above me—pale skin, soft features, glowing golden hair like melted candlelight.

  She was smiling. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she was smiling.

  She said something in a nguage I didn’t understand. Her voice was so sweet it almost hurt.

  My heartbeat thudded in my ears—wait, no. That wasn’t mine. That was hers. I was so close to her chest I could feel it, steady and strong.

  I was a baby.

  No. No, no, no, no.

  I thrashed—or tried to. My arms jerked. My body filed weakly.

  This wasn’t a metaphor. I’d been reborn.

  A nguage I didn’t know, a body I couldn’t control, a world that was not mine.

  This wasn’t some heroic second chance.

  This was terrifying.

  I started crying. Loud, ugly, frantic wailing. I didn’t care how pathetic it sounded.

  The woman shushed me gently, rocking me in her arms but i didnt stop.

  I felt another pair of hands on my back. A deeper voice joined in. A man. His voice was strong, calm.

  No. Not my father. Not Dad.

  Natsumi. Daiki. Kaito. My cssmates. The gunshot. The blood.

  Gone.

  All of it—gone.

  My sobs quieted not because I calmed down, but because my body couldn’t even sustain the crying. My lungs were too small. My muscles too weak.

  I turned my head slightly and saw another figure—a young woman standing nearby. Long bck hair, dark eyes, a calm expression. She bowed slightly toward the woman holding me and then left the room without a sound.

  The walls were wooden, warm-toned, lit by a firepce. A stone hearth. Curtains made from rough cloth. This wasn’t a hospital or a city apartment.

  This was another world.

  God, I’d actually been isekai’d.

  I just stared bnkly at the flickering light above me.

  This was real. I wasn’t waking up. I wasn’t in a coma. I wasn’t hallucinating.

  I was alive. But I didn’t want to be.

  Everyone I knew was dead—or gone. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

  My body was small, weak, useless. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t even cry properly.

  I couldn’t do anything.

  My new mother’s warm voice meant nothing. Her smile meant nothing. These people weren’t my family. This pce wasn’t my home.

  I was trapped. Powerless. Reborn into a life I never asked for.

  I closed my eyes—not because I was tired, but because there was nothing else I could do.

  And for the first time since waking up, I felt it settle in.

  The weight of it.

  This wasn’t exciting. This wasn’t a fantasy.

  This was a prison.

  And I was completely, utterly alone.