Renji Aoki hated the word average.
Not because it was insulting, but because it was… accurate.
Average height, average grades, average job, average face. If there was a line of thirty people, nobody's eyes would linger on him for more than a second. He could quit his job tomorrow and his coworkers would probably need a week to even notice he was gone.
And yet—he wasn't dumb. Far from it.
Renji's mind worked in ways he never bothered to show. He could solve problems others couldn't even see. He could manipulate outcomes with a few casual words. He could read people like books they didn't even know they were writing.
But what was the point? Why play chess against the world when the world didn't even know he was on the board?
---
Just Another Day
The train rattled as Renji leaned against the window, earbuds in, playlist on shuffle. Around him, the evening crowd packed the carriage—salarymen scrolling their phones, students laughing, a couple whispering too loudly.
No one looked his way. As usual.
He chuckled to himself. "Invisible again, huh? If I were a superhero, I'd be called 'The Guy Nobody Notices.' Fear my terrifying power of… mediocrity."
A mother pulled her child a little closer, glancing at him nervously.
Renji smirked. See? Even when I joke to myself, I creep people out. Natural talent.
The train stopped. He stepped out, blending into the faceless crowd spilling into the city.
---
The Joke No One Heard
Dinner was instant noodles. Again.
Renji sat on the floor of his tiny apartment, slurping while scrolling his phone. Notifications? Zero. Messages? None. His social media feed? Memes and people bragging about things he couldn't care less about.
"Holy sh*t," he muttered, "even my spam folder has more activity than my social life."
He snorted at his own joke. No one else laughed. No one ever did.
---
The Regret
Later that night, Renji lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
He thought about his classmates who had become doctors, engineers, business owners. About childhood friends who had gotten married, had kids, built families.
And then there was him.
Renji Aoki. Age 22. No achievements, no legacy, no impact.
If he vanished tomorrow, the world wouldn't even blink.
"…Damn," he whispered. "I'm gonna die someday, and not a single person will remember I existed."
---
His Death
The next day, it happened.
He was crossing the street after work, still lost in his own thoughts.
The sound came first—a blaring horn that froze his blood.
Headlights seared into his vision.
"Oh, f*ck—"
The impact cut him off. Pain exploded through his body. The world spun, then collapsed into black.
And just like that, Renji Aoki—the man nobody noticed—was gone.