Death isn't something anyone plans for.
You never know when it'll show up, or how.
I was twenty-six when it came for me. Young, healthy, with no medical problems — there was nothing that should've drawn death's attention. My life was ordinary. A small job, a modest apartment, a routine that repeated every day. Nothing special, nothing terrible.
The only thing missing was people.
My family — my father, mother, and younger brother — had died years ago. One by one, each of them gone before I could even process it properly. I'd seen enough of death to become familiar with it. Too familiar, maybe.
When it happened, I didn't react much. I didn't cry at the funerals. I didn't scream. I just stood there, quiet. People thought I was heartless. I even started to believe them. Maybe I was broken in some way.
But time has a strange way of making you realize what you've lost. It wasn't sudden grief that got to me, but the small things. The empty dining table. The quiet apartment. The birthdays that no one remembered.
At first, I told myself I was fine. Then, when I got sick one day and no one was there to check on me, it hit me — I was completely alone.
That realization didn't crush me all at once. It just settled in, like a heavy fog that refused to go away.
After that, I stopped getting close to people. I didn't want to go through that kind of loss again. Every time someone tried to be a part of my life, I found a way to push them away. Maybe I thought it would hurt less if I never got attached.
So, I lived my life quietly — working, eating, sleeping, scrolling through social media, and watching anime late into the night. I told myself I preferred it that way. That I didn't need anyone.
And then one day, death found me.
A gunshot. A sharp pain in my chest. I remember falling, the cold concrete under me, the smell of blood. People were shouting, but their voices felt far away.
I tried to breathe, but every breath came out shorter than the last. My hands were shaking. My vision was fading.
So this is how it ends, huh?
That was the last thing I remember thinking before everything went black.
When I opened my eyes — or thought I did — there was nothing. Just darkness.
No pain, no sound, no body. Only my thoughts.
At first, I thought maybe I was dreaming. But dreams don't last this long.
I didn't know how much time had passed. Minutes, hours, days — it all blended together. Without light, sound, or sensation, time stopped meaning anything.
I'd always heard people talk about "peace after death." If this was peace, it was a strange kind. Empty and endless.
'So this is what happens after you die,' I thought. 'No heaven, no hell. Just… nothing.'
If I could laugh, I would've. I'd spent most of my life surrounded by emptiness, and apparently, it followed me even in death.
I started talking to myself — not out loud, but in my head. Maybe to remind myself I still existed in some way. Maybe to keep from going insane.
After a while, I started imagining things. I thought maybe this was like one of those anime I used to watch, where the main character dies and gets reborn in another world. The "isekai" thing. I used to enjoy those stories when I was alive. They made me forget my own boring life for a while.
The idea made me laugh internally. 'Yeah right,' I thought. 'Who'd want to reincarnate someone like me?'
Still, the thought gave me something to hold onto.
When I was alive, anime was one of the few things that gave me comfort. Watching characters fight for their dreams, for people they cared about — it was inspiring. They had purpose. I didn't.
I wanted money, maybe fame, maybe some recognition — like anyone else. But I never had the drive to actually chase it. I'd start something, work hard for a week, and then give up. Even when I tried to get in shape, I quit halfway. I guess I just never had that spark.
'Maybe that's why my life turned out the way it did,' I thought.
The darkness didn't respond. It just stayed there — silent, constant, and endless.
Time — if you could still call it that — moved differently here. Eventually, I started losing pieces of myself.
The sound of my mother's voice, my father's face, my brother's laughter — all of it began to fade. I tried to remember, to hold on to something, but it was like trying to catch smoke with my hands.
Even my own name started feeling distant.
'I don't think I can hold on much longer,' I whispered into the void, though there was no voice left to speak.
Maybe this was it. Maybe this was all that waited for people like me. Not heaven. Not hell. Just an endless, quiet nothing.
'I guess it's time to rest,' I thought. There was no point in fighting anymore.
And so, I stopped thinking.
The moment I did—
[...Host Acquired...]
[...Bonding in Progress...]
[...Bonding Complete...]
[...Initiating Rebirth...]