Kazuo Tanaka was thirty years old, single, broke, balding slightly at the crown, and proud owner of the saddest one-room apartment in Shinjuku.
He also happened to be God.
But he had forgotten that part.
The Worst Alarm Clock in History
6:30 a.m. His cracked, off-brand alarm clock screamed like a tortured cat.
Kazuo groaned, slapped the snooze button, and buried his face in a pillow that smelled vaguely of instant noodles.
6:45. It screamed again. He smacked it harder.
7:10. The alarm buzzed a third time, only to give up in defeat.
Kazuo peeked one bleary eye at the ceiling. A spider hung in the corner, judging him silently.
"…Please," he whispered into the empty room, "just… let me not go to work today."
And for the first time in two thousand years, the universe actually listened.
Across Tokyo, streetlights went dark. Trains screeched to a halt. Phones died mid-swipe. The stock exchange servers crashed, leaving several billionaires crying into their imported champagne.
The entire city went black.
Kazuo farted softly, rolled over, and went back to sleep.
Boss's Voicemail of Doom
At 9:30, his cracked flip phone buzzed with a voicemail.
"TANAKA! Where the hell are you?! Do you realize the whole city is down? Every time you're late, something apocalyptic happens! Last month: flood in the subway. Month before that: hailstorm in August. Now the entire damn grid collapses?!"
Kazuo stopped listening halfway through, deleted the voicemail, and shuffled toward his kitchenette.
Breakfast of champions: one cup of instant ramen.
He filled it with lukewarm tap water, sat cross-legged at his rickety table, and slurped.
He froze.
"…Why does this taste… amazing? Like… Michelin-star amazing?"
The noodles glowed faintly. His stomach purred. Somewhere, choirs of angels hummed in perfect harmony.
Kazuo blinked, shrugged, and kept eating. "Finally. Convenience store stepped up their game."
Heaven Literally Breaks In
KNOCK. KNOCK. CRASH.
The wall exploded.
Dust filled the air. A glowing woman in white armor rolled across his floor, wings flapping wildly. Feathers scattered like a pillow fight from hell.
She leapt up, pointed a blazing spear at Kazuo, and shouted:
"FOUND YOU!"
Kazuo slurped more ramen. "…Landlord sent you? Rent's due next week."
"Silence, Creator!"
The woman radiated divine light like a broken streetlamp. Her halo flickered on and off. She adjusted it with both hands, cursing under her breath.
Finally, she straightened, cleared her throat, and proclaimed:
"I am Seraphina, First Herald of Heaven's HR Department! For centuries I have scoured creation in search of the Almighty, and at last—at last—I find you!"
Kazuo stared. Then he looked down at himself: messy bedhead, baggy T-shirt that read "404: Motivation Not Found," and duck-print boxers.
"Lady," he said slowly, "I think you've got the wrong guy."
The Denial of Denials
Seraphina slapped a glowing clipboard onto his table, scattering chopsticks. "You are Kazuo Tanaka—alias, The One True God of Earth! Do you deny this?"
Kazuo poked the clipboard. "Feels like plastic."
"You created the stars!"
"Neat."
"You shaped the seas!"
"Cool."
"You once defeated the Prime Demon Lord of Chaos with a single sneeze!"
Kazuo blinked. "…Wait. Did you say sneeze?"
"Yes!"
He shrugged. "Well, that explains allergy season."
Seraphina's jaw dropped. "Do you not care? You abandoned your throne for two thousand years! Heaven collapsed into bureaucracy without you! The cosmos runs on deadlines!"
Kazuo yawned. "Sounds like a you problem."
Meanwhile, Outside…
On the street below, hundreds of citizens gawked at the sky. Auroras rippled over Tokyo in colors never seen before—neon purples, golden pinks, even one that spelled out EAT AT YOSHIDA'S RAMEN.
A man dropped to his knees. "A miracle!"
A woman clutched her child. "God has returned!"
By lunchtime, hashtags like #GodBack, #KazuoBlessUs, and #ReturnoftheDuckBoxerDeity were trending worldwide.
Meanwhile, Inside…
Kazuo slurped the last of his noodles, burped, and lay back down.
"Listen, Seraphina. Was it? I don't know what scam you're running, but I'm not God. I'm just a guy who hates Mondays."
"You shut down an entire metropolis with a wish!" Seraphina snapped.
Kazuo shrugged. "Coincidence."
"You made ramen taste divine!"
"MSG."
"You summoned auroras worldwide!"
"Global warming."
Seraphina screamed into her clipboard.
Kazuo pulled his blanket over his head. "Wake me when rent's due."
Seraphina collapsed to her knees, clutching her head.
"This… this is worse than I feared. The Creator has become a… a NEET."
Above them, the ceiling cracked. A feathered shadow loomed.
The first demon scouts of the Underworld had arrived—sniffing out God's return.
Kazuo sneezed.
Half the building vanished.
"…Damn," Kazuo muttered, sniffling. "Gotta clean that up later."
And thus began the second coming of God… who really just wanted a nap.