Yukio's eyes snapped open, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his heart pounded against his ribs. Beads of sweat clung to his skin, dampening the fabric of his shirt. His breath came in short gasps as he stared at the wooden ceiling above him, disoriented by the dream.
He swallowed hard and forced himself to take slow, steady breaths. As his mind cleared, he took in his surroundings. The dim light filtering through the small window cast long shadows across the modest room, in the inn he had paid for after arriving in this unfamiliar world.
A frown settled on his face as fragments of the dream replayed in his mind.
"That dream..felt to real."
Why had everyone—including himself—called him Kaeya?
His brows furrowed. That name wasn't his. He was Yukio, wasn't he? But if that dream had been a glimpse into the past, if those memories had belonged to the previous owner of this body...
His fingers clenched into the sheets as the realization dawned on him.
Could it be...Past memories of this body?
If that was the case, then the person who originally inhabited this form must have been powerful.
"Wait....Does that mean, i can use that magic too?"
If these memories were truly a part of him now, there was a chance he could harness the same abilities.
For now, he needed to focus on something more immediate—his identity.
His old name Yukio drifted across his mind. However, He felt no attachment, no instinct to hold onto it. In truth, he'd thrown it away long before ending up here.
His old life—he could hardly call it living. Short bursts of pleasure, meaningless distractions, cheap highs from games, shows, fleeting hobbies. None of it had lasted. None of it had mattered.People had thought he was smart — friends, teachers, even family. But he knew the truth better than anyone. He wasn't driven by discipline or ambition; it was just random flashes of motivation that flared up and died just as quickly. A day of energy would collapse into weeks of dull despair. No matter how many times he clawed his way back, the cycle always repeated, leaving him emptier than before. And at one point whenever that burst of motivation came a thought followed with it.
If you are going to give up anyways, Why try in the first place?
From then on, he knew — he was useless. All that crap about "trying," about "doing his best" — it was bullshit, and he wasn't stupid enough to lie to himself about it anymore. Every pathetic attempt was just him trying to squeeze out a little pity from himself, a way to pretend he wasn't wasting everything. He knew it. And then he'd rip himself apart for knowing it — for still being too weak to change a goddamn thing.
He started picking apart every move he made, every thought, like some self-obsessed idiot who thought understanding himself would fix anything. He thought he was smart for it.But it didn't change a damn thing. No matter how much he dug, no matter how deep he clawed into his own head, there was always something he couldn't reach — something rotten buried inside him, laughing in his face. He'd catch himself trying again, trying to be better, and all he could do was laugh — bitter, ugly — at how fucking cringe it all was. Improvement? Redemption? What a fucking joke.
Sometimes he tried talking to his family about it — dropping hints like a coward too scared to actually be honest. Of course they didn't understand. How could they? He never gave them the real version, only the scraps that were safe enough to say out loud. He couldn't tell the truth if he wanted to. Hell, maybe he didn't even know what the truth was anymore.
So lying became a close companion. The easy kind, the kind you breathe without thinking. And when he wasn't lying, he was hating himself. It felt more natural than breathing.
A part of him — the most pathetic part — still clung to the idea that he was different. That he knew he was broken, and that knowing made him better than the other blind, empty fools stumbling through life.
But deep down, he knew that was just more bullshit. Just pride. Empty, worthless pride with nothing to back it up.
He wasn't better.
He was just another lonely failure too scared to admit it.
He had friends, sure. But only in the shallowest sense. School friends — the kind who stuck around because it was easier than being bored, not because they cared. He was no different. Deep down, he'd wanted to cut ties, to stay alone, but by then they'd already known him well enough to make it impossible to disappear cleanly.
Even with family... he was friendly, polite when it was required. But he didn't care about them — not the way he was supposed to. And he knew it. He had always known it, and that gnawing wrongness inside him never went away.
Maybe that's why, standing in a new world, in a new body, he didn't feel grief for what he'd left behind. Only a dull sort of acceptance. He wasn't sure if he should feel grateful for this second chance, or wary that he would only waste it again. Probably both.
Still, he knew one thing.
He couldn't carry his old name with him. It would only weigh him down.
After a long, silent moment, he exhaled, almost a sigh.
"Alright. From now on, I am Kaeya," he murmured, the words leaving his mouth without hesitation.
Whether it was an escape or a rebirth didn't matter.
It was simply what had to be done.
.
.
Kaeya pulled the hood of his black cloak lower over his face as he walked through the bustling streets of Lugunica, weaving through the crowd.
He didn't want to attract attention. Also he had no intention of making himself a target for unnecessary hostility.
Yet, despite having only recently adopted the name, it felt strangely natural to him. As if he had always been Kaeya.
But he pushed those thoughts aside. There were more pressing matters at hand.
Money.
I have enough to live for a few years, But what about after that? I still need to find a way to earn.
His funds were sufficient to sustain him for a few years, but what about after that? He needed a stable source of income.
The problem was, unlike the cheap fantasy stories he'd wasted time on back then, there was no Adventurers' Guild here.
Okay, I'll find a library instead. Reading the language would be no problem, So its better to take advantage of that and learn more about this world.
And with that started his search to find a library in the capital city of lugunica.
.
.
Kaeya sat in the library, flipping through a book on Lugunica's history and geography.
He had finally found a library after some searching, and for 2 silver coins, he could read as much as he wanted for the entire day. And he intended to make the most of it.
(The bolded part can be skipped if you don't want to read about stuff related to lugunica.)
Lugunica is the easternmost kingdom on the continent, bordered by Gusteko (north), Vollachia (south), and Kararagi (west). Its Royal Capital is surrounded by five great cities, forming a rough pentagon.
Also called the Dragon Kingdom, Lugunica thrived under a covenant with the Divine Dragon, which used the Dragon History Stone to predict disasters. However, it failed to foresee the fall of the royal family, leading to the Council of Wise Men taking control under martial law until a new ruler is chosen.
Lugunica is the center of magical advancement, unlike Kararagi and Vollachia, where magic is rare. The Magic Research Institute was founded by Roswaal J. Mathers, and healers are trained at the Royal Treatment Center.
The kingdom worships the Dragon as its deity, though the Dragon has long distanced itself from royal affairs. Alongside the Dragon, figures like the Sage are also revered.
Magic:
Magic in this world is divided into six elements—Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, Yin, and Yang—and further classified into four functional categories. Fire governs temperature, Water handles life and healing, Wind operates externally, and Earth works within living bodies. Each element has a corresponding incantation, and spells grow stronger by adding El, Ul, or Al to the base incantation. Yang magic, which grants buffs, is rarely used due to its instability, while Yin magic applies debuffs.
Mages usually wield one element, though some can use multiple or even combine them for unique effects. Master mages can blend elements scientifically, such as using ice's reflectivity for light-based attacks. Some experts can also disguise their spells with faux incantations or cast multiple spells simultaneously, though the latter is extremely difficult.
Spirit arts:
Spiritual Arts involve borrowing mana from the atmosphere with the aid of spirits, who can also act as magic conduits for those unable to use magic on their own.
Flow method:
The Flow Method allows non-mages like knights and warriors to enhance their physical abilities by subconsciously channeling mana through their bodies. While weaker than Yang Magic or Spirit Arts, this technique grants superhuman speed, reflexes, strength, and agility, making fighters far more formidable in battle.
.
.
Kaeya had been reading for five hours straight without so much as a glance at the clock. Somewhere between the political histories and the dense explanations of magic theory, he'd completely forgotten about things like lunch or even moving.
He leaned back slightly, stretching his fingers.
I never thought I'd manage to sit this long without getting bored.
A faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
In his old world, even an hour without gaming or mindless anime binging would have driven him insane.
Still, the glares he received in the city made more sense now.
So, the Witch of Envy devoured half the world, and now anyone who looks remotely like her gets treated like trash.
He tapped his fingers against the wooden table. Can't really expect much from humans anyways.
Racial discrimination wasn't a new concept to him, but the sheer scale of resentment toward half-elves in this world was something else entirely.
Stretching his arms above his head, he closed the book with a quiet thud and exhaled. He had already spent too much time in the library—his stomach was beginning to protest his negligence.
Time to find something to eat.
With that, he rose from his seat and made his way to the exit, The librarian barely glanced at him as he passed.
The late afternoon sun greeted him as he stepped outside. The streets were bustling with activity, merchants shouting their wares and pedestrians weaving through the narrow roads. The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread wafted through the air, instantly making Kaeya feel even more hunger.
I really want to test my magic.
He handed a few copper coins to a vendor for a meat skewer. He bit into it, savoring the slightly charred flavor.
Wouldn't it be dangerous to try alone, though? I don't even know my affinity... but in those memories, I used four elements. Maybe I should start with the basics. What's the worst that could happen? Plus If I mess up, at least no one's watching.
His thoughts continued to swirl as he walked toward the city gates, finishing his meal. The guards stationed at the entrance barely paid him any attention, their focus was on the merchants and travelers entering and leaving.
.
.
It had been nearly a week since Kaeya found himself here, and unfortunately, he still hadn't found a job. It wasn't for a lack of trying—he had scoured the city, but nothing had worked out.
His daily schedule had looked something like this:
Day 3
Breakfast → Practice magic → Look for a job (Mission failed) → Library → Sleep.
Day 4
Breakfast → Explore city → Accidentally wandered into the slums → Magic & sword training → Sleep.
Day 5
Breakfast → "End Unemployment" campaign (failed) → Magic practice → Sword training → Sleep.
Day 6
Kaeya strolled through the streets, hands in his pockets, trying to find something—anything—to do. His hood was still up, his ears hidden from view. He wasn't in the mood to deal with more glares today, like always.
The past few days had been repetitive. Wake up, eat, train, wander, and fail at finding employment. Rinse and repeat.
He sighed. "At this rate, I really will be homeless in some time."
Renting a room at the inn wasn't sustainable without a source of income, and while he wasn't completely broke yet, his funds were dwindling steadily. He needed a way to earn money.
.
.
"At least this world has cheese—the food of gods!" Kaeya muttered under his breath, ordering two cheese hand pies from the street vendor's stall. The warm, buttery aroma of freshly baked pastry filled the air, making his stomach growl in anticipation.
After paying, he took a bite and continued walking through the busy streets.
Up ahead he saw, a child running onto a road, completely unaware of the oncoming carriage speeding toward him.
Though luckily a knight jumped in at time and saved him.
Every person there started clapping for him, So kaeya joined in as well.
.
.
Kaeya could be seen effortlessly leaping from one rooftop to another. He wasn't running from anyone, nor was he chasing anything. The reason for his acrobatics?
Boredom can make a person do weird things....
As he vaulted over another roof, the distant sound of scuffling from below caught his attention. He came to a stop at the edge of the rooftop and peered down into the dark alleyway below.
Three thugs were mercilessly beating up a boy who looked to be around his age.
"Playing with us, will you?! Die, scum!" one of them snarled, delivering a harsh kick to the boy's ribs. The sound of the impact echoed in the narrow alley, and the injured boy let out a pained grunt as he curled in on himself.
Kaeya's first instinct was to walk away. Getting involved always meant unnecessary trouble, and he'd learned better than to invite that into his life.
He shifted slightly to leave —But then he saw it.A plastic bag, crumpled beside the boy.
His eyes widened slightly.
No way... another one?
He crouched lower, squinting down at him. Tracksuit. Plastic bag. Dirt-smudged but unmistakable.
Someone from his world.
A long sigh escaped his lips.
Dammit.
He didn't want to help. He really didn't. If it were any other idiot getting beaten, Kaeya would've just kept walking, maybe muttered a half-hearted 'good luck' under his breath.
But... he'd already tangled with these thugs a few days ago. Left them in enough pain that the memory clearly still haunted them. It wouldn't even be work to scare them off now.Just show up — they'd run.
"And anyway..." he muttered under his breath, "might as well be a 'good person' for once."
With that he jumped down and directly landed behind the four.
"You guys again?" He said in a low tone, He didn't want to scare them with his voice, Just his presence would do the work. Hopefully.
They spun around to face him, and one of them paled visibly.
"Huh?! You again?!"
"Oh crap! It's the guy from a few days ago! RUN!"
Panic took over as all three thugs turned on their heels and bolted out of the alley, disappearing into the shadows without a second thought.
The injured boy, still on the ground, looked up at him. "You must be my mysterious assistant, Who was sent to help me from the shadows!"
Kaeya blinked. "Huh?"
The heck is this idiot yapping about?
He crouched down, examining the boy's injuries. "Are you alright? I can heal you if you want."
"Yeah—"
"That's enough."
A sudden, commanding voice cut through the air.
Kaeya's head snapped up — his instincts sharpening — and his eyes landed on a silver-haired girl stepping into the alley.
For a brief second, he froze.
An elf? No — half-elf, if he had to guess. His gaze dissected her features quickly: the silver hair, the long ears, the strange, almost noble aura clinging to her despite the dirty alleyway.
"Stop now and i will let this slide." She said "So just give back what you stole."
"What I stole?" Kaeya and the injured boy said at the same time, equally confused.
"Yes," she said. "That insignia is very important to me. I will forget this matter ever occurred if you just return it now."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Kaeya said. "I haven't taken anything from you."
The silver-haired girl ignored him and instead focused on the other boy, scrutinizing him closely. Her intense stare made the beaten boy avert his gaze.
"See? You averted your eyes because of your guilty conscience," she accused, crossing her arms. "Now tell me where it is."
Before Kaeya could respond, a bright light flashed behind the girl. A small, floating cat appeared, hovering beside her with an amused expression.
"I think you're mistaken," the creature said casually. "That seems like an instinctive male reaction to me. I didn't sense any malice from either of them at all."
The girl huffed and shot the creature a glare. "You be quiet, Puck!"
Turning back to the two boys, she sighed. "Now, tell me if you know anything about where it is."
Kaeya exhaled slowly. "I didn't steal anything. I only arrived a few minutes ago and helped him." He pointed towards the injured boy.
The injured boy nodded along with Kaeya's words, backing up his statement.
"You two don't seem to be lying," the girl murmured, her expression shifting slightly. "Oh no, did I really just come around the long way?" She seemed panicked.
"You should probably hurry after her, miss. I could... help..."
Before the boy could finish his sentence, he collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.
An awkward silence filled the alley.
Kaeya and the silver-haired girl both stared at the unconscious boy, neither quite sure what to say.
This is getting awkward. What did I get myself into? Kaeya thought, rubbing his temple.
He sighed and reached up, pulling down his hood. He needed to clear his head.
This was turning into a far bigger mess than he had anticipated.