Spoiler: This is the story of the other soul in Hajime's body, his name is Sakamoto, and not Yuuki, like in chapter 1, it's not Miyoko either.
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It was raining heavily that day. Sakamoto had just lost his job over a financial mishap that had occurred while he was on duty. This wasn't the first time—he'd been given several chances to fix similar issues, but the company had finally run out of patience.
He spent the entire night combing through documents, searching for anything that could prove his innocence, but luck was against him.
Someone had tampered with the office security cameras, planting fabricated footage to make it appear as though Sakamoto had intentionally manipulated transactions. According to the investigation, the pattern had been ongoing, yet curiously, the report came from an anonymous source and cited a different account name—not Sakamoto's real one.
Despite this discrepancy, the company seized everything that belonged to him. He was left with only what he carried on his person—his smartphone and the clothes on his back. Everything else, including items from his desk, was confiscated and sold to recover the supposed losses the company had suffered over the years.
Sakamoto had no choice but to sleep outside in the pouring rain. He couldn't even afford a hotel, and the few close friends he had once relied on had abandoned him after hearing the rumor; they didn't want to be associated with someone accused of betrayal.
Hunger gnawed at him relentlessly, keeping him awake through the night and making every waking moment a struggle. His body ached from the cold, and the rain soaked him to the bone, but there was nowhere else to go.
As days passed, the rain never let up; if anything, it worsened, turning the streets into shallow rivers and flooding the hidden spots Sakamoto had been using as makeshift shelters. The few dry corners he had found were gone, washed away, or discovered by others seeking refuge.
Even his smartphone, the only link to the life he had lost, had to be sold just to buy food. There was no sense in holding onto it; it had only ever been a tool for work, and without a job, it was worthless. Now, stripped of almost everything, Sakamoto faced the raw, unrelenting truth: survival alone was all that mattered, and even that was becoming impossible.
With no options left, Sakamoto stepped into an elevator and rode it to the top of the tallest building in town. The ride felt longer than it should have. People stared at him, some curious, some uneasy, as if they sensed something was off. When the doors opened, a few bystanders lifted their phones, recording him out of idle interest, while others laughed quietly and went on with their lives. To them, he was just another stranger, briefly amusing, quickly forgotten.
He walked to the edge of the highest floor and looked down at the city below. Streetlights blurred beneath the rain, glowing softly through the darkness. For the first time in days, Sakamoto allowed himself a small, tired smile. The rain continued to fall, unrelenting, as it always had.
He took a single step forward.
Then with a loud thud, he was gone.
***