You ever have one of those moments where life slows down just long enough for you to watch your own dignity leave your body in real-time? Yeah. That was me. Tuesday morning, 8:17 a.m. sharp. I remember the exact time because I was texting my friend to tell him I'd be late for school again. Not because I overslept or missed the bus, mind you, but because the universe had it out for me.
And also because I was trying to finish a bag of convenience store melon bread while walking. Multitasking. It's a thing.
Anyway. There I was, phone in one hand, bread in the other, probably already spelling "I'll be the-" wrong when fate decided to intervene.
And by "fate," I mean a banana peel.
Yes. A real one. Lying on the pavement like some smug, cartoon trap, glistening under the morning sun. I don't know who in modern society still discards their peels like they're living in Mario Kart, but I hope they know they almost became an accessory to murder.
The moment my foot connected with that slippery bastard, time slowed. Birds flew. My melon bread went airborne. Somewhere, I'm pretty sure a violin started playing. Maybe it was just in my head.
And in that suspended, gravity-defying second, as I hovered above the cold, uncaring concrete, I thought:
"This is it. This is how I die. Clumsy. Alone. With carbs."
But death didn't come. Oh no. That would've been too dignified.
Instead, the ground vanished. Just-poof. Gone. Concrete gave way to a blinding, glowing circle full of magical nonsense and strange chanting voices that sounded way too into themselves.
I didn't land so much as crash into something that felt suspiciously like an ornamental altar. Statues toppled. Dust flew. One priest shrieked like I'd landed on his cat. I blinked up at the sky, which was suddenly stained-glass ceilings and dangling holy symbols.
Someone shouted, "The Chosen One has arrived!"
Another voice: "Did... did he just break the Summoning Basin?"
A third voice, definitely a noblewoman: "Is he bleeding or just covered in marmalade?"
Spoiler: it was neither. It was banana.
I sat up, half-buried in what used to be a ceremonial flower display, probably sacred, definitely crushed. My melon bread was gone, may it rest in peace. My phone, last I saw it, was flying somewhere into the astral plane, probably still trying to autocorrect my dying message.
I tried to speak, maybe ask what the hell just happened, but all I managed was, "Ow."
The head priest leaned in, examining me like I was a museum exhibit that farted. His long beard brushed my face and smelled faintly of soup. "He... he does not look very heroic."
"Maybe it's a disguise," another priest offered helpfully. "The gods often send their champions in humble forms."
"Right," the noblewoman drawled, arms crossed. "Very humble. Did the gods also tell him to bring his own snack?"
The head priest coughed. "Welcome, Chosen Hero. You have been summoned to the Kingdom of Valdora to save our world from darkness."
I raised a hand from the flower wreckage. "Quick question. Why is everything spinning?"
He paused. "That may be the holy energy adjusting your earthly body to its divine fate."
Or, you know, a mild concussion.
But sure. Divine fate. Let's go with that.
Before I could peel myself out of the sacred shrubbery I had so valiantly demolished, a hush fell over the room. You know that collective gasp people do in anime when something important happens? Yeah. That. Times twenty.
A golden glow bloomed in the center of the circle-the actual summoning circle, the one I apparently missed by a solid two meters and a tragic banana. The air shimmered like reality was trying to cosplay as a lens flare, and holy chanting resumed, now suspiciously in key. A choir started up from somewhere, because apparently they were just waiting for the real hero to show up.
Then he appeared.
Ren Arashi.
Perfectly tousled hair. Eyes that sparkled like polished sapphires. A school uniform that somehow didn't get wrinkled despite defying the laws of space-time. He landed on his feet, of course. Didn't even stumble. The floor just... accepted him.
The room swooned.
Literally swooned. Three priestesses fainted. A junior mage dropped her staff and clapped by accident. Even the statue I'd broken tried to reassemble itself just to get a better look at him.
"Oh no," I muttered. "He's hot."
Ren looked around with a calm, slightly confused smile. "Huh. Weird dream." His voice sounded like it had been filtered through a boy-band mixer. "Are you all NPCs?"
Someone screamed. Not in terror-like, emotionally.
The high priest was already down on one knee. "Glorious Hero! You have arrived, just as the prophecy foretold!"
Ren blinked. "Oh. Cool. Do I get a sword or something?"
A literal beam of light descended from the ceiling, and a sword appeared. In a pedestal. That wasn't there before.
He walked over and pulled it out like he was checking if the TV remote had batteries. There was a sound effect. Like a choir yelling "Legendary!"
I watched from the floor, still tangled in flower petals and my own existential dread.
"Alright," I sighed. "That's probably the actual guy you wanted. I'll just... shuffle off into a nearby tavern and die of embarrassment. No worries."
Before anyone could dismiss me (which I honestly expected and welcomed), the summoning circle activated again.
Darkness. Thunder. Screaming bats.
...Okay, there were no bats, but spiritually, there were bats.
The circle flashed black and red like a Hot Topic exploded. The air dropped ten degrees. Gregorian chanting started, backwards. Everyone took a step back as a new figure emerged from the darkness, arms crossed, cloak billowing as though some intern was crouched offscreen with a leaf blower.
Kuroblade Nightshade.
Yeah. That's not a nickname. He introduced himself that way.
He stood in the center of the summoning circle, eyes glowing (probably contacts), with a ridiculous greatsword strapped to his back. It looked like someone glued spikes to a rejected Final Fantasy weapon and then dipped it in black glitter.
"I have heeded the call," he announced in a gravelly whisper, despite no one asking him to. "The cursed blood within me boils anew... Soon, Oblivionfang shall feed."
There was silence. The kind that only comes when everyone's trying very hard to pretend that wasn't the cringiest thing they've ever heard.
Then the high priest, to his credit, recovered quickly. "Ah, yes! The... Shadow Hero! The third warrior of prophecy!"
Kuroblade raised an eyebrow. "I am no warrior. I am the vessel of eternal torment. My name shall be feared, even by the abyss itself."
"Totally. Love that for you," I mumbled.
Kuroblade turned his gaze to me. "You. What cursed fate binds you to this summoning as well?"
"I tripped on a banana peel," I said flatly.
He nodded, deadly serious. "A cruel omen. The yellow serpent claims another."
I don't know if he was mocking me or if he truly believed the fruit was a demonic entity. Either way, I didn't want to be in a party with him.
"Now that all three heroes have arrived," the priest said, clearly relieved to be able to continue his script, "your destinies begin. Together, you will travel across Valdora, seek out the legendary temples, and-"
"I'm not traveling with him," Ren interrupted, jerking his thumb at Kuroblade. "He smells like incense and hot glue."
"I will not share my path with one so blinded by the light," Kuroblade hissed. "Your aura offends my darkness."
"Oh wow," I said, raising a hand weakly. "You two are totally gonna be best friends by episode twelve."
They both ignored me. Within five minutes, the Great Legendary Hero Trio was no more. They split off in opposite directions, each claiming they would solo the Demon Lord and definitely not get lost on the way out of the palace.
And me?
No one told me what to do. They just kind of... left. One priest handed me a loaf of bread and a map drawn in crayon. Another gave me a wooden stick and called it a starter wand. I think it was literally a chopstick.
And thus began my grand adventure-alone, underqualified, armed with a splinter, and covered in flower bits.
The fate of the world was in good hands. Probably.