"Thanks!! I'll be back soon!!"
The young, energetic voice of a boy rang out as the door closed behind him. Dressed in red and carrying a bag full of books from the shop, the teenager made his way home, his soul filled with the familiar excitement of a new read.
When he arrived, he opened the door with shimmering eyes.—"I'm home!!"
He practically radiated sparkles as he spoke, but even though no one responded, he didn't call out again. He already knew no one would answer.
He kicked off his shoes and headed straight for the kitchen, book bag in hand, to grab some water before retreating to his room to read. As he approached the counter, he spotted a note.
Note: We'll be home in a few days. Take care of yourself.
He stared at the note on the refrigerator for a few moments and sighed. He opened the fridge and pulled out the water pitcher, but just as he turned to grab a glass, the floor suddenly vanished beneath his feet. It was replaced by a black void that sent him plummeting.
"AAHHH!!"
When he finally hit the ground again, he kept his eyes squeezed shut for a long time.
When he finally mustered the courage to look, he was surrounded by nothing but grass. He blinked a few times, shook his head rapidly, and stood up. His books were still by his side; feeling a wave of relief, he scooped them up and hugged them tight.
"Thank goodness for the grass! You guys are okay!!"
He cradled them for a moment before deciding to step out of the tall weeds to get a better look at his surroundings.
Emerging from the brush, the boy found himself at the edge of a forest. A man leaned against a tree, staring at his own hands as if they were strange tools. The man looked up, watching the boy emerge with his books, and let out a sigh of relief that sounded more like a weary prayer.
"Finally... this walking glitch finally shows up,"—he said, turning his gaze away in irritation.—"Listen, human. I don't care who you are, so don't bother introducing yourself. All you need to know is that I'm the one helping you get back."—He glanced at the books for a second.—"And the only thing you're carrying is... printed paper?"
The man let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes with a force that clearly said: "I'd rather be anywhere else in the multiverse right now." The boy, for his part, remained frozen, his knuckles white from clutching the books to his chest. His mind was trying to assemble a puzzle with pieces that didn't fit.
—"Um... so..."—the youth stammered, breaking the silence with a thin thread of a voice.
"Where exactly am I?"
The stranger swept him with a frigid gaze, loaded with an arrogance that even his new mortal condition couldn't hide.
"In another world. Isn't it obvious? Dumbass,"—he snapped, with a bluntness that hurt more than the fall.
"Wh-what?"—It took the boy a moment to process.
However, as he looked around, reality began to give way. The landscape had that unsettling "uncanny valley" feel: the flora felt familiar yet strangely alien, with leaves that shifted colors with the wind. At that exact moment, a four-winged bird crossed the sky with a screech that sounded almost like a metallic melody. He definitely wasn't in his kitchen anymore.
"Can you... can you get me home?"—he asked with a spark of hope, staring at the man with perfect features standing before him.
"Yes, it's my 'responsibility,'"—he replied, spitting the word out with a bitter tone, like someone admitting to a prison sentence.
"I'm the one in charge of cleaning up this mess. So start walking, human; this new body is already starting to feel heavy, and I have no intention of spending the night in the elements."
The angel began to walk with a clumsy stride, as if he were still learning how to calibrate the weight of his own bones. The boy lingered behind for a second, looking at his bag of books and then at the stranger's back.
"Wait!"—he cried, trotting to catch up.—"If you're an angel, shouldn't you be... I don't know, nicer? Or have a name that isn't 'Responsibility'?"
The man stopped dead in his tracks and looked at him out of the corner of his eye, a brow raised.
"I am an angel fallen from grace because of you. My kindness stayed in the Seventh Heaven, along with my wings. And as for my name..."—He paused, looking at his human hands with disdain.
"Call me Khayiio. It's short enough that you won't forget it while you're busy trying not to die in this forest."