Beckoned From The Brink Of Another World (Chapter 1)

Ding-a-ling-a-ling! Ding-a-ling-a-ling!
The shrill sound of the cheap plastic alarm clock erupted next to my ear like a clamor of alarm bells, demanding that I wake up and face the day. Groaning with a mix of annoyance and exhaustion, I fumbled blindly to hit the snooze button, a brief sense of peace descending upon me as the jarring noise finally ceased. But the silence that followed felt almost as oppressive as the alarm itself—a reminder that another day was upon me, monotonous and identical to the countless Tuesdays preceding it. Sunlight, too bright and insistent for my sleepy eyes, poured in through the gap in my shabby curtains, painting the walls with golden rays. With great reluctance, I pulled myself into an upright position.

The image staring back at me in the bathroom mirror was all too familiar and frankly, a little disheartening: a tangled mess of bedhead, eyes that were still crusty with remnants of sleep, and a general vibe of someone already overwhelmed by the prospects of the day before 7 AM. The toothpaste foamed in my mouth as I brushed my teeth in a mechanical rhythm—new day, new start… or so they say. To me, it felt more like I was hitting the replay button on a boring old video tape. I couldn’t help but wonder when the thrilling part of life would finally kick in.

“Kaito!” My mom’s voice sliced through the fog of my thoughts, sharp and practical as it rose above the sound of the steam billowing from the shower running downstairs. “Breakfast! And don’t forget your uniform this time! You’ll be late!”

“Coming!” I mumbled, the words garbled around the toothbrush. A quick glance confirmed that, against all odds, my uniform was draped over my desk chair, a small miracle in the chaos of my room. Efficiency was key when it came to mornings like this. I yanked on my T-shirt and boxers, followed by some pants. I snatched up my uniform jacket, urgency driving me to button it up hastily as I thundered down the stairs, nearly taking a tumble over that last step in my rush.

As I slid into my chair at the kitchen table, a wave of comforting aromas washed over me: the crispy scent of toast mingled with the bitter aroma of cheap coffee. My mom placed a plate piled high with scrambled eggs in front of me and shot me a sideways glance, her sharp eyes already scanning me for any potential violations of uniform protocol.

“Did you pack everything?” she asked, her voice a mix of maternal concern and expectation. “Textbooks? Notebook? P.E. kit?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled, shoveling scrambled eggs into my mouth like a machine on autopilot. “All present and accounted for.”

“Good. Focus today.” Her tone shifted slightly as she added, “Your father’s pulling another late shift at the factory.” There was a weariness in her voice, one that echoed the fatigue I felt after another late night of homework and scrolling through my phone. The silence between us stretched on, broken only by the clatter of my fork against the plate. I finished the last bite, stood up abruptly, and announced, “Okay, I’m heading out.”

“Be careful!” My mom called after me as I wrestled my feet into well-worn sneakers, socks bunched awkwardly inside. I slammed the front door behind me with a heavy thud, the rusty gate creaking ominously as I pushed through, a noisy reminder of my hurried departure.

Chapter 1: The Crosswalk Encounter



I made my way past the row of identical houses, each looking like a cookie-cutter version of the last, and passed the corner konbini with its over-the-top neon sign flashing obnoxiously in the morning light. A vacant lot lay nearby, overtaken by weeds—a jungle of neglect in the midst of orderly suburban life. The tick-tock of my internal clock echoed in my mind, as if my very own alarm was snoozing still. Just as I approached the main crossing, the pedestrian light switched to red, and I cursed under my breath—perfect timing, as always.

Frustrated, I glanced around, my eyes landing on a familiar sight across the street. There she was, waiting on the opposite curb: that distinct ribbon trailing from her hair, the way her bag hung just so against her shoulder. Up close, under the bright morning sun, she looked… I can hardly find the words. Majestic? Perhaps that’s too grand. Pale skin illuminated by the sun, sharp features accentuated by dark hair cascading elegantly down her back. She exuded an air of cool detachment, an uncanny perfection that felt more intimidating than inviting. A wild thought flickered through my mind: Could she possibly go to my new school? Maybe I could muster the courage to ask her for directions. It might save me from wandering around like a lost puppy, confused and aimlessly searching for something meaningful.

Finally, the light switched to green, and the crowd surged forward—there was no holding back now. I pushed my way through the throng, reaching her side just as our feet found the safety of the crosswalk.

“Hey!” I called out, my voice ringing a bit louder than I intended, the eagerness bubbling up and spilling over like an enthusiastic puppy jumping up to greet you. It was like I’d summoned the words from thin air, unable to hold them back despite the twinge of anxiety that slammed into me immediately afterward. Oh no, had I just made a fool of myself?

“Saint Ignatius? 一緒に行きましょうか?” I blurted out, the Japanese words tumbling from my lips before my brain had a chance to process. Where in the world did THAT come from?! It had to be a side effect from all those late-night anime marathons I'd immersed myself in. Seriously, my mouth seriously had a mind of its own at that moment!

Elis—though her name wouldn’t be revealed to me until much later—didn’t even bother turning her head fully; instead, she merely flicked her gaze toward me from the corner of her eye, her expression transforming into something like mild disdain. The slight downturn of her lips was a clear signal: Oh great, just another loser. Probably a total creep.

Ehhhh?! Oh boy, there went my confidence, plummeting like a stone dropped into a bottomless well. Was I really giving off unintentional creep vibes? I quickly glanced down at my reflection in the dim screen of my phone. Everything appeared normal... right? (A little nagging thought flickered through my mind: You’re only familiar with your own face; don’t get too comfortable there, buddy).

As we finally crossed to the other side, a brief silence lingered before she finally broke it, her voice crisp and cool. “Elis. I suppose,” she remarked, her words laden with a polite formality that felt at odds with the frosty disinterest in her tone. It sounded as if she had rehearsed that response in the mirror—she delivered it while managing to keep her face frozen in an expression of barely concealed discomfort.

“Oh! K-Kaito!” I spluttered, my nerves making me fumble over every syllable. “Kaito Aizome! That’s me! My parents insist that’s really my name, but I think they got the whole idea from that show 'Detective Conan', you know, when Kaito Kuroba made his debut on TV?” My awkwardness dripped from every word, like syrup pouring from a bottle that had been shaken up and was now fighting to escape.Her only response was an unimpressed “hmph” as she picked up her pace, clearly not even a little intrigued by my ramblings. I trailed behind her like a lost puppy, desperately hoping to find a semblance of footing in this ridiculous encounter.

As if the universe had decided to throw me yet another curveball, a soft breeze began to swirl around Elis, causing the leaves to shimmer like polished emeralds, accentuating the graceful movements of her every step. It was almost ethereal, but just as I was starting to appreciate the moment, fate intervened. A pigeon, soaring majestically overhead, decided my shoulder was not just a landing pad, but the perfect target of its natural functions. SPLAT.

Of course! Even the birds were against me today. A cold, white reminder of my cosmic clumsiness seeped through the fabric of my jacket. Perfect! As I lumbered behind Elis, I could almost hear the disgruntled voices of my ancestors rising up inside my mind—a chaotic, dysfunctional celestial chorus filled with disapproval.

"Disgraceful!" boomed the voice of my stoic samurai grandfather. "A pigeon?! In my day, we faced arrows with steely resolve! You had better learn the way of the sword, boy, or—"

"Nonsense!" interrupted my other grandfather, a Vice-Captain in the military, thank you very much. "Swords are relics of the past! What he needs is discipline! No grandson of mine is going to be a disappointment!"

As their spectral shouting match escalated into a crescendo of bickering, a familiar synthesized voice cut through the chaos: "Your calculations regarding avian defecation probability appear… flawed." It was my grandpa Stephen Hawking chiming in dryly, breaking the tension with a burst of intellect that made the absurdity of the situation even more pronounced. A brief, surreal silence followed before the samurai and soldier resumed their heated debate about my impending doom.

Young or old, living or dead, I groaned internally. The pressure never seems to end. With each new mocking voice in my head, I felt more and more like I was trained for nothing but humiliation. My ancestors must be facepalming from the beyond at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. This felt like something ripped straight from the pages of a cheesy shoujo manga.

Elis, channeling the perfect mix of grace and confidence one would expect from a heroine, glided ahead toward class, her vibrant ribbon dancing like a proud flag. And then, just like that, as if orchestrated by the gods of slapstick comedy, my shoelaces chose that exact moment to untie themselves in a final act of betrayal. Why wouldn’t they?

And so, the chapter closes on this ridiculous note, filled with the promise of so many outrageous family expectations to come—a tapestry woven with threads of honor, absurdity, and unyielding duty.

End Of Chapter 1: Published By Rvie. (Completed)