The glow of a phone screen lit up the dark room.
A boy lay sprawled on his bed, the covers pulled up to his chest.
His brown hair, cut into a messy yet stylish middle part, framed his face.
The night air outside was sharp and chilly, but inside the comfort of his blanket he was warm, tucked away from the cold.
His orange-gold eyes, sharp yet tired, traced the words on the screen.
The very last lines of a story he had followed for years.
"I guess that's the end…" he muttered, letting out a quiet sigh.
"Kind of a letdown."
He turned off his phone and rolled onto his side, burying his cheek into the pillow.
His thoughts lingered, restless despite the weight in his eyelids.
'I wonder what it would've been like to be in the JJK world…'
The idle thought floated through his mind, hazy but persistent.
Before he could dwell on it, sleep pulled him under.
The very next moment, his eyes snapped open.
He wasn't in his room.
The first thing he saw was a ceiling—grey, cracked, damp concrete.
His breath came uneven as he sat up too quickly, heart racing.
"What the…?"
He was lying on a piece of cardboard under the shadow of a bridge.
His clothes were ragged, damp, streaked with dirt as though he had been wearing them for days.
The cold bit into his skin despite the layers, and a faint smell of rot drifted in from the street.
He glanced down at himself and froze.
His body was lean, toned, sharper than he remembered.
'I could've sworn I was a bit fatter than this…'
Before he could piece together the strangeness, a noise shattered the quiet.
A guttural screech.
"SkraaaecCAK!"
He spun toward the sound.
Something crawled from the tunnel's mouth.
Something wrong, twisted, drooling.
Limbs stretched too long, eyes bulbous and rolling, a jaw unhinging sideways with rows of jagged teeth.
Panic shot through him.
The thing lunged, and Roy dove to the side, rolling across damp concrete.
His heart slammed against his ribs.
The monster turned with a shriek, claws raking sparks against the wall.
Roy didn't think.
He moved.
He ducked and swung.
His fists connected, but it wasn't enough, each blow only staggered the thing.
It hissed and thrashed, slamming him against a wall.
He bit down on his lip, clawed, kicked, shoved back with everything he had.
The fight spilled out of the tunnel into a narrow alley.
Garbage bags burst open as the creature crashed through them, scattering trash across the street.
Roy grappled, scratched, even headbutted in desperation.
His knuckles stung, his arms burned, and still the thing pressed forward.
Cornered, body screaming for air, he clenched his fist one last time.
Something inside him snapped.
No, something flared.
Neon blue sparks raced across his skin, clumsy but alive.
Energy that didn't belong in his old world surged to his knuckles.
His fist drove straight into the creature's face.
BAM!
The monster convulsed, then froze.
Its form twisted violently, breaking apart into ashy fragments that dissolved into the night air.
Roy staggered back, chest heaving, staring wide-eyed at the empty space where it had been.
The alley was wrecked, bricks cracked, garbage scattered, blood streaked across the pavement.
His fists trembled, faint traces of neon light flickering and fading.
Only then did it click.
"That thing… it was a curse."
The word left his lips in disbelief.
His gaze dropped to his own fist, still tingling with warmth.
For a long moment, silence.
Then a laugh, weak, breathless, almost boyish, spilled from him.
"…Amazing."
Exhaustion hit like a wave.
He slid down against the wall, eyes heavy, body aching.
The faint grin never left his face as sleep pulled him under once again.