CHAPTER 4:I Don't Want to Disappear

I dropped into silent darkness.
No pain. No body. No air.
Just... nothing.

I didn’t know where I was, or what I was. I just was.
A flicker of thought without shape. A presence without weight.

There was no heartbeat. No breath. Just the awareness that I still existed. Somehow.

Then I felt it—
Not a touch, not a hand, but something pushing me from behind.
Not my back, not my skin... something beneath all that.
A current. A pulse. An energy that was me.

And I was moving.
Fast.
Accelerating through the void like a spark pulled by a wire.

Then, suddenly, I stopped.
Like I hit an invisible wall.

And that’s when it hit me—
I felt something. Limbs. Weight.
I was back in a body.

Without thinking, I did the only thing that made sense.

I opened my eyes.

But not a comforting white. Not light through clouds or warm sunlight.
This was nothingness. Just pure, flat, infinite white in every direction.

No air.
No ground.
No up or down.

No heartbeat.

I looked around, or at least I tried. My body didn’t respond the way it used to.
No resistance. No weight.
I wasn’t standing, but I wasn’t lying down either.

My consciousness was only now catching up.

Wait.
Where am I?
What happened?
How did I get here?

I looked around, desperate for answers—anything to ground me.

Then it hit me.
The memories slammed into me like a truck.

The school. The gym. The shooting.
Screams .Blood.

Natsumi.

I had died.

“I... died?” My voice echoed hollow, like it wasn’t passing through air at all. Just drifting in the emptiness.

NO. NO, NO, no. This can’t be real. I’m gone? Finished? Done?

The words repeated in my head like a broken record, pounding, twisting.

What about them? Natsumi. Daiki. Kaito. My friends... my family. What about them?

Did I really just leave them behind? Did I just disappear on them?

I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“No! No! No!” I screamed into nothing.

But there was no sound.

No breath.

No air.

My hands shot up, clutching my head, fingers digging into my skull as if I could squeeze the confusion out.

Why? Why? Why?

Why did this happen? Why me? Why now?

My mind was spinning, breaking, fracturing—fragments of memories crashing against the void.

I wanted to run, to fight, to fix it.

But there was nowhere to run. No strength to fight.

I was trapped.

Trapped inside this endless silence.

Trapped inside my own broken thoughts.

The panic clawed at me, merciless and wild.

I wanted to cry out for help. For a sign. For anything.

But there was nothing.

Only the cold, crushing weight of knowing:

I had died.

I had lost everything.

I started to cry—or at least, I wanted to. I could feel it building inside me, the desperate need to release the pain.

But my eyes wouldn’t cry. They just wouldn’t.

No tears came.

No relief followed .

Just a hollow ache, deep and unyielding.

Then, curled up in a fetal position, floating in this endless void with only my thoughts, my eyes caught something—movement.

I flinched.

There was someone—something—approaching from far away. A figure. Humanoid, but not quite. The closer they came, the more I realized they didn’t walk; they simply… appeared. As if distance meant nothing here.

Their form shimmered, shifting. No clear face. No eyes. No mouth. Yet I could feel their presence pressing against my mind like weight.

I tried to back away—if that was even possible in a place with no ground.

“What… are you?” Fear finally caught up to me. “Where am I?!”

The figure stopped. Its form pulsed softly, almost like breathing.

“I am here to ask you a question,” it said—not aloud, but straight into my skull.

My skin—or whatever I had now—prickled. I couldn’t tell if it was speaking in my language or if it just bypassed that entirely.

I swallowed, or tried to. “A question?”

“Yes.”

It didn’t move. It didn’t blink. It didn’t do anything but exist—and yet, I felt its eyes on me, like I was being studied. Like something ancient and incomprehensible was sizing me up.

“You have died,” it said flatly. “Your time in that world is over.”

My legs buckled—though there was no ground to give way beneath me.

“I… I know,” I murmured.

“Do you regret how you lived?” it asked.

I stared.

“What?”

The question hit me like a punch. Not because I didn’t understand it—but because it was the one I’d never dared ask myself.

“I… I don’t know,” I said, suddenly defensive. “I mean—what kind of question is that? I was just a kid. I didn’t get a chance to live.”

“You existed. You made choices. You had desires. You wasted time.”

My chest tightened painfully. “That’s not fair…”

“Life is not fair.”

“Then why ask me that?” I snapped, the tension boiling over. “What do you want from me? To apologize? To beg?”

It tilted its head slightly. A human gesture—but it didn’t make it feel any more human.

“No. I want to understand you.”

My anger faltered. “Understand… me?”

“Yes. Why do you cling to your past life when it was so unfulfilled? What keeps you from letting go?”

That question stopped me cold.

“Unfulfilled?” I almost screamed. “MY LIFE WASN’T UNFULFILLED! I HAD FRIENDS. I HAD A FAMILY. I HAD PEOPLE WHO LOVED ME.”

“Then why didn’t you appreciate it?” it asked calmly.

My mind went blank.

“I... I... I don’t have an answer,” I said, disappointed in myself. I couldn’t find one. I hadn’t appreciated my life these past few months—at least, not until everything fell apart.
    
There it was. The truth, pulled out of me like a splinter.

“Then allow me to erase you and send your soul to the afterlife.”

The figure raised its hand. A pulse of light shot out like a blade slicing through the emptiness.

A cold shiver ran down my spine. Erased. Forgotten. The word slammed into me like a hammer.

No. Panic flared in my chest. I will not accept that.

“No,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper at first, then growing firmer. “Not yet. There has to be more. I’m not ready to disappear.”

The light halted midair. The figure slowly lowered its hand.

“And why would that be?” it asked, voice calm, almost curious. “You just said you didn’t appreciate being alive. Why wouldn’t you want to forget?”

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my shaking breath.

I clenched my fists, eyes darting upward as if searching the empty void for answers. My voice cracked, rising with desperation.

“I don’t want to vanish as if none of it ever happened. I can’t forget Daiki or Kaito… or Natsumi… or my father.” I swallowed hard, fighting to keep steady. “I don’t want to lose who I am. To become nothing.”

A bitter laugh escaped me, voice growing louder, trembling under the weight of the words.
“That would mean my whole life… was meaningless. And I can’t accept that.”

Silence stretched between us. I could feel its presence pressing against my mind, waiting.

After a long pause, its voice softened, gentle now.

“Do you wish to live again?”

I froze. “…What?”

“In another world. A different life. Not as a continuation—but as a beginning.”

My mouth went dry.

Why? Why offer me that? What kind of being has the right to do that?

“I don’t know you,” I said, cautious now. “You could be lying. You could be some demon or trickster. Why would you give me something like that?”

“Because you are not finished,” it said simply. “And I… am not merciless.”

I laughed bitterly. “You’re telling me that this—whatever this is—is mercy?”

“Would you prefer oblivion?”

The words reminded me of my limited options.

“No,” I admitted.

“Then answer me clearly,” the voice said, closer now. “If I give you life again, in another place… will you live it fully?”

I looked down. Or maybe inward. I wasn’t sure.

“I think I was scared of living,” I said slowly. “Always waiting. Always thinking I had time. And then—when it finally mattered—I did something. But it was too late.”

“You faced death with courage,” it said. “You tried to protect others.”

“I wasn’t brave. I was desperate.”

“That is still a form of bravery.”

I didn’t respond.

“If you are reborn, it will not be easy. You will be alone. You will remember everything. But you will start from nothing. No status. No language. No identity.”

I looked up at the formless being, something cold twisting in my stomach.

“Why me?”

It paused. Then, finally:

“Because you asked for your life to be more like an adventure.”

I stared.

That dumb thought from earlier. A wish I barely meant.

“…Are you serious?”

Its light pulsed, and I swear it was smiling. “More than you know.”

I looked at the hand it offered—if you could call it a hand. The shape of a gesture more than the thing itself.

I hesitated. My pulse—if I had one—raced.

“I’m scared,” I whispered.

“That is good. It means you understand the value of what you’ve lost.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to forget them.

But I didn’t want to vanish either.

Slowly, with every ounce of trembling courage I had left, I reached forward and touched it.

And the world shattered.

The light around me flared, and the white void shattered into pieces, fading into darkness.

And I began falling—pulled once more into the unknown.

Sound filtered in.

Muted voices. A woman humming. Something… rhythmic. Like footsteps? Or… no—rocking.

I couldn’t open my eyes, not fully. My body felt heavy. Weak. Like I was underwater.

Everything was wrong.

My limbs weren’t responding. My fingers twitched but had no strength. My head lolled without control.

Panic surged through me.

What’s happening? Why can’t I move?

I tried to speak, to cry out, but all that came out was a pathetic mewl.

Soft fabric wrapped around me. A gentle pressure cradled me. I was being held.

I cracked my eyes open.

Blurry colors. A face above me—pale skin, soft features, glowing golden hair like melted candlelight.

She was smiling. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she was smiling.

She said something in a language I didn’t understand. Her voice was so sweet it almost hurt.

My heartbeat thudded in my ears—wait, no. That wasn’t mine. That was hers. I was so close to her chest I could feel it, steady and strong.

I was a baby.

No. No, no, no, no.

I thrashed—or tried to. My arms jerked. My body flailed weakly.

This wasn’t a metaphor. I’d been reborn.

A language I didn’t know, a body I couldn’t control, a world that was not mine.

This wasn’t some heroic second chance.

This was terrifying.

I started crying. Loud, ugly, frantic wailing. I didn’t care how pathetic it sounded.

The woman shushed me gently, rocking me in her arms but i didn't stop.

I felt another pair of hands on my back. A deeper voice joined in. A man. His voice was strong, calm.

No. Not my father. Not Dad.

Natsumi. Daiki. Kaito. My classmates. The gunshot. The blood.

All of it—gone.

My sobs quieted not because I calmed down, but because my body couldn’t even sustain the crying. My lungs were too small. My muscles too weak.

I turned my head slightly and saw another figure—a young woman standing nearby. Long black hair, dark eyes, a calm expression. She bowed slightly toward the woman holding me and then left the room without a sound.

The walls were wooden, warm-toned, lit by a fireplace. A stone hearth. Curtains made from rough cloth. This wasn’t a hospital or a city apartment.

This was another world.

God, I’d actually been isekai’d.

I just stared blankly at the flickering light above me.

This was real. I wasn’t waking up. I wasn’t in a coma. I wasn’t hallucinating.

I was alive. But I didn’t want to be.

Everyone I knew was dead—or gone. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

My body was small, weak, useless. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t even cry properly.

I couldn’t do anything.

My new mother’s warm voice meant nothing. Her smile meant nothing. These people weren’t my family. This place wasn’t my home.

I was trapped. Powerless. Reborn into a life I never asked for.

I closed my eyes—not because I was tired, but because there was nothing else I could do.

And for the first time since waking up, I felt it settle in.

The weight of it.

This wasn’t exciting. This wasn’t a fantasy.

This was a prison.

And I was completely, utterly alone