Genius Mage, Talentless Fool, and the Heaven-sent Truck-kun.

Warm glow illuminated the room. The source of the light was a metal lantern attached to the wall near the desk. Despite its orange tint, it didn't produce heat like you would expect from a fire-lit lantern, owing to the spiritual circuit powering it.

Pleasant, somewhat scratchy sounds resounded throughout the room. Every once in a while they stopped, only to begin again after a short time. It was the sound of a pen moving across paper.

The pen moved unhurriedly yet confidently as it filled page after page. Sometimes pausing and other times working its way through multiple pages at once, stopping only to be dipped in the ink before resuming its work.

The holder of the pen was a young, handsome man with distinct, silvery-white hair. Usually he gave of a gentle, if somewhat unreliable impression. In that moment, however, his face was the picture of focus. This was Fabian Aes Berion, the son of Baron Berion and a young magical prodigy.

The young man continued his writing for some time. Finally, he stopped and put down the pen. Fabian stretched, freeing his muscles from the accumulated stiffness. As he did, his gaze stayed on the papers he wrote; evidently, his mind was still occupied by their subject matter.

"Young Master, are you finished with the report?"

A calm, youthful voice interrupted him. The voice was soothing yet steady. Fabian had lost count of how many times this voice brought him out of his trance whenever he became lost in his thoughts. 

The owner of the voice was a girl with silver hair. Her locks stretched past her shoulders, and her face was calm, nearly expressionless. Together with her beautiful hair, it gave her an almost doll-like impression. Her name was Lucy, and she was a maid in the service of house Berion.

"Mmm... Yeah, I just finished it. Here, take it to father."

Fabian stood up and passed her the papers. It was crucial for the report to get to Baron Berion; it needed to be looked through as soon as possible. After all, they didn't have much time before the festival of Deos Cogitus, Ruler of Knowledge, where those findings would be presented.

Lucy accepted the papers with a nod.

"Would you like to immediately head to sleep?" She asked, slightly concerned for her master: recently he began staying up late for his magic practice.

"Yeah, it's going to be really busy starting from tomorrow, and I'm already pretty drowsy." Fabian replied.

Lucy looked a bit relieved.

"Would you like me to prepare your beddings?" She asked.

Major nobility, which included barons and above, almost always left such menial tasks to their servants—even when it came to their personal chambers. Fabian, however, was less inclined to rely on servants for everything. That was a relatively common occurrence in minor nobility, which often didn't have enough hands around, and those who quickly shot up the social ladder as they were less used to such treatment. Old habits died hard after all.

"Nah, I can do it myself. Just make sure you hand over the report, and then you're off duty. Get a good night's rest for tomorrow, alright?"

"Understood." 

Lucy gave a slight bow and left the room.

Afterwards, Fabian prepared himself to sleep, his mind still lingering on the report. Once he lay down, however, his thoughts turned to tomorrow. 

The festival was fast approaching. They only had a month left. Both his research as well as his own performance needed to be perfect. Their subject was a sensitive matter, and they couldn't allow even the slightest gap in their findings. It felt like all of his life's efforts hinged on the festival. It would affirm his past and determine his future.

On top of that, she was coming tomorrow; and Fabian knew she wasn't going to let him just kick back and relax. Not like he was planning on doing that anyway.

"...It's going to get even busier soon, huh...? What a pain in the ass..."

Fabian muttered as his consciousness faded. His mind was soon enveloped in the warm embrace of Deos Somnios, Lord of the Dreams. 

Despite Fabian's words, a slight, somewhat blissful smile played on his lips.

And that is how Fabian Aes Berion fell asleep.

***

"Screw 'em bastards!"

An angry shout resounded on the streets. That voice belonged to Shinohara Ayumu, a seventeen-year-old high school student on his way home—AKA me. Several passerby looked in my direction, but I was too worked up to pay attention to them. 

Bothered by a bit of noise, huh? See if I care!

Who did you think I was? An unremarkable kind of guy that would be bothered by some randoms? You know, the kind that would normally stay reserved, trying his best to fit in and not cause a fuss? Yeah, that type of guy. Well, I wasn't him! Not anymore at least. The me of yesterday fit that description, but that was all in the past. As of today, I was a different man, unfazed by others—

"—M-my apologies." I said with a slight bow.

The passerby looked at me for just a second and then returned to their business. Almost like I wasn't even worth their attention. Well, to be fair, I really wasn't...

Okay, yeah, maybe I wasn't all that different from yesterday... But, listen, wouldn't you apologize in my place? It's not like the passerby were to blame for my troubles. I felt kind of bad for bothering them... In the first place, being mindful of people is so much more than just fitting in, you know? I was over that, and not over simple courtesy and respect for the people around me, got it? And I meant it. Really. ...It was definitely not because I felt awkward as hell.

Leaving my enlightenment aside, there was a reason why I was pissed. Let me tell you about it.

 What? You don't care? Well, I do so strap up for it.

So, recently, a bunch of my classmates offered me to play with them in their band. One of their bandmates had recently moved away, and they asked me if I could help them out. Obviously, I graciously accepted. Here's how it went:

"And we were really looking forward to our last performance as a band..."

"Yeah... It sucks, but what can you do about it? We just gotta be thankful for all the memories we made along the way, you know?"

"Haha, you're always so cheesy... But thanks, I do feel a bit better now. I gu—"

"H-hey! Y-You know guys, I actually play a bit of guitar so I could help you out..."

"Wow, really, Ayumu-kun? Please, if you could. This is going to be our last cultural festival, and we wanted to send it off with a bang."

"Of cour—W-well, I-I can't say no to a request, you know..."

Yep, how kind of me. What? You're telling me that I was the one who offered first? Well, that was just my magnanimous spirit, alright? I imagined they would feel awkward, having to go out of their way to ask me, so I helped them out a bit. I was hap—I mean, I really sympathized with their plight, okay?

Fast-forward to today. It was our first practice session together. I was rehearsing with them after school, searching for my groove and all that stuff. Of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing. You know—gotta shake off the rust, get used to the group and the vibes, learn how to synchronize with the rest of the band...

The practice went pretty well, I think. Welllll, maybe I did screw up a couple times and stuff, but not a big deal, yeah? 

Then when we were done, the group started getting all cagey... They went on about how they didn't want to trouble me and all that... At first, I was like: "Oh no, it's fine.", and "Don't worry, I have some time to spare.", or "It's not a big deal".

But as they kept insisting, I slowly realized. It wasn't about my time, or inconvenience. Rather, it was about my skills as a musician. In other words, I wasn't up to their snuff.

You bastards, I can tell you just think I suck! Stop dancing around it and tell it to me straight!

Yeah, that definitely pissed me off. What a bunch of stuck-ups, don't you think so?

What? You're saying it was kinda my fault for telling them I could play the guitar? G-geez, you guys are harsh. Not that I know who 'you guys' are supposed to be anyway... But that aside, I really did play the guitar!

...Back in elementary school... That still counts, right? ...No? Yeah, I guessed as much. 

Well, whatever. I didn't feel bad about that in the slightest. I hadn't spend much time on it so I didn't care! If I practiced properly beforehand, I would blow their brains out with my skill! I swear, that was me at 5% of my power!

...Well, maybe I practiced just a bit. Juuust a tiiiiiiny bit, okay? Or maybe a lot. A whole lot...

I stopped in place and sighed. The warm glow of descending sun touched my back, giving me some warmth. Almost as if it was trying to cheer me up and tell me that everything was okay. Somehow, that thought pissed me off even more.

Another dud, I guess? No matter what I did nothing seemed to stick.

When I was a kid my parents made me try a bunch of things: playing the guitar, performing in a drama club, doing poetry, practicing martial arts, picking up another language... The list went on.

I didn't stay long with any of those things, and, by the time I noticed, I was in my last year of high school with nothing special to speak of. No hobbies, no interests, and certainly no talent.

And here I was, clinging to every chance to find something, just something I could claim as my own. Though the reality was that I spent every day watching shows and reading web novels—dreaming about something special yet not really doing enough to earn it. 

But now that I think about it, what would constitute as 'doing enough' in my head? I did put in effort. Genuinely. What was I supposed to be doing instead? I, for one, couldn't answer that question.

Whenever I felt down, my parents and friends would try to console me.

It's fine.                     You'll find your calling.                                            Don't rush
   You're okay the way you are.                                         Take your time.
                                                    Next time for sure.            You're still so young.

I felt bad for their concern, but I was too unreliable to trick them into thinking that nothing was wrong, so I ended up depending on them anyway. As if I wanted something from them. Something I didn't even understand myself. 

Whenever they comforted me, there was this vague unpleasant feeling at the bottom of my chest. They really meant everything they said, but none of their words stuck with me. Was it because they felt like empty platitudes? Or because I thought they were making light of my worries? Those thoughts certainly crossed my mind a few times. But there was something else. Something I had a a hard time pinpointing.

...How should I put it—

It's like they don't even believe in me.

And yet I kept on asking them, relying on them, confiding with them. Maybe I just wanted them to give me an easy way out? An answer that would solve everything? But what kind of answer would satisfy me? Just keep living your life? Enjoy youth while it lasts? Or maybe change something else entirely; go wild and don't think about the consequences...? 

If I had to say, none of those spoke to me in the slightest.

But I didn't know what do. Was there a solution I would eventually stumble into? A discovery that would solve all my issues as if they were never there to begin with? Was it fine to believe in that? That's what I thought for years, and here I was... Was I really supposed to just keep going at it?

Is this what everyone went through in life? If that was the case then life's difficulty level was set way too high by default... Or maybe it was the norm for talentless people like me. I'd tried so many things; surely, by this point, there should have been at least something...

When those worries got to me, I always turned to silly thoughts and fiction. Something to escape my issues and insecurities. 

Heh, lame? I knew that myself. But 'you guys' really only talk whenever you want to retort and bring me down... I wish you were as talkative when I asked serious questions... 

But that aside, let's come back to fiction, alright? Everything there always feels much easier than in reality. I mean, that's the whole point, right?

Everyone wishes for a solution—an answer to their questions. Most of the time, fiction—regardless if it's the silly kind or something serious and well-thought-through—is there to give a solution of some kind. Whether that's advice for those in doubt, a fantasy for those seeking an escape, an entertaining plotline for those who are bored, or a reflective mirror for those who are searchinng within.

What did I get from fiction? At this point, it was obviously escape. For when nothing in life seems worthwhile, you can't help but want the impossible instead.

Sigh. 

Sometimes I wish I just got isekai'd away... I would awaken to my special talents or something and then it would be my time to shine. Maybe as a powerful warrior, or as an intelligent mage, or even someone completely different. I would be surrounded by trustworthy comrades who would believe in me. And then I could smile confidently, believing in them and in myself. Then, I could really become someone else. Someone who isn't me.

As always, my thoughts turned silly and delusional... 

So what? Could a man not even daydream a bit? What was so wrong with that? In the first place, it wasn't like that had anything to do with reality. And even if I did get my way, I would have to die first. No, thank you to getting slashed to death, dying from sickness, or getting hit by a truck. That sounded painful. Painful and scary. 

With that said, if I had a choice, I would prefer a truck. That way death would be faster: no prolonged suffering or terrifying people involved—

*BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP*

As that thought crossed my mind, a terrifically loud noise resounded. I turned around just in time to see a massive silhouette closing in on me. My mind went completely blank, and my body was frozen in shock, unmoving.

Only right as it was about to hit me did I realize that the silhouette was in fact a truck, rushing at me at full speed.

SERIOUSLY?!!?!?!!?

God, please! Listen to me till the end, okay?  I did say a truck would be the best, but I definitely prefaced it with not wanting to die in the first place!  Aren't you a bit slapdash for a higher power?!

That was my last thought before the clash. Then, my consciousness faded. Unfathomably silly. As was my entire life anyway.

And that was how I got reincarnated.