The alarm went off like a death knell, shattering the last shitty dream where, for once, I wasn't the punchline. Reality kicked me in the balls, stinking and merciless. The light seeping through the busted blinds of my shitty studio lit up a battlefield: instant noodle wrappers, empty soda cans, and a forest of crusty tissues, monumental evidence of my nightly defeat.
I got up, my flabby, sweaty pig of a body protesting every move. Fuck, even my mattress groaned under my weight. I dragged myself to the pathetic excuse for a bathroom, narrowly avoiding the mirror. I know what I look like. My face is a foot, my body a sack of potatoes, and my charisma that of a mollusk. My greasy hair sticks to my forehead, and my T-shirt's so tight it's practically a second skin—a sausage casing gone bad.
My mind, as mediocre as the rest of me, ran through the usual checklist. No friends. Shit grades. A future brighter than a black hole, but less interesting. My dad? A fucking joke. He bolted the second my mom croaked to bang some inflatable doll in Tokyo, leaving me here to rot with his guilt and a pension that shows up whenever it feels like it.
But I had Sakura.
Just thinking her name made my limp dick twitch. Sakura. The only thing in this shitty life that wasn't completely rotten. Sweet. Smart. Beautiful. Fucking beautiful. With thighs… shit, her thighs. Long, smooth, firm. Thighs made to wrap around a guy, to get lost in. Thighs that made me spill gallons of cum into my filthy tissues.
Today was final results day. Anxiety twisted my guts, a ball of nerves and sweat in my loser stomach. To calm down, I did what I do best: I jerked off. No need for details, but let's just say Sakura's picture on my phone, all pure and innocent, took a beating. It's disgusting, I know. But fuck, it's all I've got.
I got dressed. Well, "dressed" is generous. I stuffed my fatty mass into clothes so tight they looked like a sausage casing about to burst on the grill. Sweat literally dripped from my greasy face. A real fucking Prince Charming.
The walk to school was another humiliation. The stares, the muffled laughs, the shortness of breath after three fucking steps. I was a circus act, the sad fat pig who still thought he had a chance.
Then came the results. Posted for everyone to see. Like a fucking death sentence.
I didn't just "barely pass." I fucking sank. Failed math, physics, English. The rest hovered around average, just enough to keep me from getting kicked out by pity. My future? In the shitter. My dad wouldn't pay for some private university, and with these shitty grades, even the crappiest public ones would think twice.
The world started spinning. The laughter around me felt distant, drowned out by the buzzing panic in my head. Fucked. I'm completely fucked.
On the way home, total despair swallowed me. I pulled out my phone, my fat fingers trembling on the screen. Sakura. I needed to hear her voice. To hear her say everything would be okay, even if it was bullshit.
She didn't pick up.
My fucking heart raced, my stomach clenched. And then I saw them. In the distance, near the station. Sakura. And some guy. A guy with a rich-kid haircut, a blazer, and the face of an asshole who wins at life.
My blood boiled. No. It's a mistake. A fucking mistake.
I ran. Well, "ran." Picture an asthmatic seal flopping on dry land. I was out of breath, sweat flooding my face, making my ugliness even more pathetic.
"Sakura!"
She turned. Her perfect face, framed by long, soft blonde hair, froze. Then an expression of pure disgust twisted it. One I'd never seen on her before. The guy next to her snickered.
"What? I thought you…" I gasped, unable to finish my sentence. Unable to gather my fucking thoughts.
"Stop following me, Ren!" Her voice was sharp, cruel. Nothing like the soft voice that whispered comforting lies. "I was with you out of pity. But you're just too ugly. My kindness has its limits!"
Each word was a knife. Pity. Too ugly. Limits.
"Please…" I sobbed, snot mixing with tears on my fat cheeks. "You're all I've got left…"
She turned away, scornful. "Don't contact me again. You disgust me."
She climbed into the guy's car—a fucking BMW—without looking back. The door slammed shut with a dull, final thud. I was on my knees on the sidewalk, a blubbering pile of tears, drool, and despair. Passersby avoided my gaze, embarrassed by the repulsive spectacle I was.
Something in me broke. For good.
"I… FUCKING HATE THIS SHITTY LIFE!"
The scream tore from my throat, raw, full of a hatred I didn't even know I could hold. Hatred for her, for them, for the whole damn world. But mostly for myself. For this shitty body, this shitty mind, this shitty existence.
My eyes ran dry. No more tears. No more anger. Just emptiness. A fucking vast black void.
Mom dead. Dad gone. Future fucked. Girl gone.
"No need to keep going…" I muttered to the street that ignored me. "It's already Game Over."
The bridge. It was all I had left. The cold guardrail under my greasy hands. Below, the black, icy water of the river called to me. A shitty end for a shitty life.
I didn't even take a running start. I just let myself fall. Like a fat turd dropping from the rest of the bowl.
The impact was brutal, freezing. The water swallowed me, filling my mouth, my nose, my lungs. It was cold. It was silent. It was… finally peace.
As my consciousness started dissolving into the dark, as I drowned in my own failure, a fucking blue light exploded behind my closed eyelids. A beep rang out, shrill and mechanical, in the watery silence.
[Taming Beauty System successfully bound.]
[Host detected… in a shitty situation…]
[Beep]
[Beep]