Kiori Mizuto's phone died at 11:34 PM, and that's what killed him.
Not directly. But if the battery didn't hit zero percent while he was three hours deep into a dungeon raid, He wouldn't have left his room. He wouldn't have crossed that street. He wouldn't have died with his last thought being I didn't even save my game progress.
But he was getting ahead of himself.
EARLIER THAT DAY
The school bell rang. Kiori didn't move.
His group project partners appeared at his desk—his three classmates who'd stopped messaging him days ago.
"The presentation is in Monday," one said. "I bet you haven't even started."
Kiori pulled out an earbud. "I'll finish it this weekend."
"That's what you said last weekend though?"
The teacher gave a brief nod when they asked to exclude him.
They left. Kiori put the earbud back in
Ugh, whatever. They'll probably fail without me anyway.
The apartment was empty when he got home. And a note from his mom lay on the counter: Curry is in the fridge. And don't forget to do your homework. —Mom
He ate while standing, scrolling through social media. Everyone's lives seemed bigger, brighter, better than his own.
His computer glowed like a shrine. Six hours vanished.
At 11 PM, between game sessions, he opened another tab. A girl on the screen. Heat crawled up his neck. He watched it, and mouse in one hand—
His phone buzzed.
Mom: I'm coming home in 20 min. Did you eat already?
He closed the tab and stared at the ceiling.
"What am I doing?"
His mom had taken him to church before his dad left. He'd prayed back then—for his dad to come back, for things to get better.
Nothing even changed.
If God existed, He would have cared.
Mom: Please tell me if you already ate your food.
He replied: Yeah, and thanks for the food, Mom.
He took his wallet and left.
Shibuya at night blazed with neon. His phone died halfway—just his reflection: dark circles, unkempt hair, it looks like someone who'd stopped trying in life.
He shoved his phone in the pocket.
The convenience store glowed across the street. Red light, traffic thinned.
Kiori stepped off the curb.
Engine roar—too close—too fast—
Headlights. Blinding.
His heart slammed.
Brakes screamed. Metal bit metal. Three meters.
I didn't save my—
Impact. Erasure.
When Kiori opened his eyes, he stood in a field of golden grass.
What?
Why can't I feel the pain?
His school uniform was intact, spotless, as if the accident had never happened.
But it wasn't a dream. He remembered the truck. The moment everything went black.
I died.
A hollow emptiness stretched through him, a weightless confusion that made his limbs feel unreal, like he'd woken in the wrong body.
The field stretched endlessly. The sky was blue. The air smelled of incense and rain.
A screen floated before him, glowing softly in the golden light.
KIORI MIZUTO
AGE: 15
STATUS: DEAD
He stared at the screen. And said:
"Okay," he muttered to no one. "So I'm dead. Great. Now what?"
The screen flickered.
YOUR LIFE HAS BEEN MEASURED
SINS RECORDED:
SLOTH
LUST
WRATH
VIRTUES RECORDED: 0
Kiori gritted his teeth. "Virtues? Who asked me if I wanted virtues? I never asked to be born. I never asked for anything"
The screen pulsed, waiting.
JUDGMENT INCOMPLETE
YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED ONE TRIAL
SUCCEED: REDEMPTION
FAIL: OBLIVION
"Redemption from what?" he shouted. "I didn't hurt anyone. I just… existed. I tried to get through each day without making things worse."
THE TRIAL BEGINS NOW
FIRST DESTINATION: ELARIS VILLAGE
FOLLOW THE PATH
An arrow appeared, pulsing like a heartbeat. Smoke rose in the distance, beyond a line of trees.
The screen vanished.
Kiori clenched his fists. His chest burned, fists tightening involuntarily as a storm of frustration surged inside him. Life is not fair. Dad left. His mom working herself to exhaustion. And now even death itself demanded judgment for crimes he didn't understand.
"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "Judge me if you want. I don't give a fuck."
He started walking to the east.
The grass whispered around his feet. The sun hung motionless. The path stretched ahead, worn smooth by countless footsteps.
Time felt strange—elastic, unreliable. The air smelled of incense and dew, of stone, water, memory.
Then—he heard a footsteps behind him.
Kiori froze. And turned around.
The field was empty.
Footsteps continued. Closer.
"Who's there?"
The air rippled.
And then someone appeared.
A young man. Dark hair, calm eyes. Barely audible humming escaped his lips—a melody faintly familiar, like church from childhood.
He stopped, and smiled.
"Hello, Kiori."
Kiori felt a chill run down his spine..
"Who are you and how do you know my name?"
With his hands loosely clasped behind his back, he introduced himself as Haruto. "For whatever comes next, I'll be with you."
"What comes next… where?"
"Elaris," he said, tilting his head. "Where will you choose?"
Kiori balled his fists. I didn't even ask for help
"The question isn't what you need," Haruto said softly.
"Meaning...?"
With a knowing, sad smile, Haruto began to move in the direction of the smoke.
Kiori froze. He took shallow breaths. It wasn't a game.
"Dammit."
He trailed a few paces behind, his fists clenched.
"Who are you really?"
"A friend. If you'll have me."
"I have no friends."
"I know," he uttered quietly. "You're here in part because of that."
Kiori's mouth tightened. "You have no knowledge of me."
Haruto looked back, humming once more, silent, patient, eyes full of unending sorrow.
The smoke from the village rose. Kiori trailed behind, his heart racing with fear and rage.
He was certain that nothing in this place would pardon him or allow him to go.
-END OF CHAPTER 1-