Nothing in My Pockets but Coins and Cowardice

“Hey, c-cut it out!” a high school boy cried out, reaching for a notebook from a taller classmate. “Please give it back! That’s my notebook!”

“Heheh, this thing?” the bully sneered, waving it high above his head. “You call this trash a notebook? That’s funny. Okay, fine. Catch it if you can, then!” He promptly tossed it over to one of his friends, who laughed and also passed it along to the third bully. The short classmate frantically followed it around, his face turning red with shame.

The other students sitting nearby looked away or simply ignored the commotion, their faces expressing clear guilt or apathy.

At the far back of the classroom, I kept reading my manga but watched the scene play out through the corner of my eyes with a heavy heart. I chewed my lip, tightened my grip on the book, and leaned forward.

A hand grabbed my shoulder before I could stand up. I looked back and met my friend’s disapproving glare. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Those guys will go after us too.”

I frowned. “Why not? I can definitely help him…”

“Dude, do you want to get our heads dunked into the toilet for the rest of the year?! Think about it! If you feel bad for him, you can help him later, just not in front of those assholes!”

I froze at that thought. It was only when I glimpsed back at the bullies and accidentally met one of their threatening, condescending sneers that I shuddered and reluctantly sat back down. I didn't know what went over me, but I looked up again, only to accidentally meet the short kid’s pleading gaze. 

I averted my eyes at once, and a massive wave of guilt crashed through my chest. Gripping my fists, all I could do was bury my face back in my manga and apologize to him over and over in my head.

But that obviously didn’t solve anything.

I… couldn’t accomplish anything. I never did. In the end, I couldn’t even apologize to that kid, let alone help him at all, before he moved to a different school.

This memory was but one of many scenarios of me doing nothing but blending in with the crowd, and I could still remember all of them.

A weak, spineless coward. That was what I was. Like a title with the curse of binding, it stuck with me through the rest of my life.

That was why I’d eventually… stopped feeling anything. Even when I got a degree in computer science, I didn’t feel any happiness, sadness, excitement, disappointment, hope, despair, but just… pure apathy, because… it never felt like a real accomplishment. I was just doing what I was expected to do.

If I could w▓sh for anyth▓ng, then… just this o▓ce, I wis▓▓d to… to—▓e▓l ▓ha▓ ▓t ▓▓s ▓i▓▓ ▓▓ b▓ ▓▓▓▓e, and…

▓▓▓? ▓▓▓▓… ▓▓▓▓’▓ ▓▓▓▓▓ ▓▓…? ▓▓… ▓…

▓▓…!

▓▓! ▓▓▓▓ ▓▓▓?! ▓▓▓… ▓▓▓ ▓▓ ▓…?!

⮽⮽⮽

“Kgh… euawurgh…?”

I let out a weird noise as a strong, stinging sensation coursed all over my body, followed by a scream nearby. Now suddenly forced awake, I groggily sat up and scanned around my room until I spotted movement at the corner. My adrenaline did its job and brought me back to full alert, gawking at the stranger who leaned against the wall.

“Eek! Wh-wh-who the hell are you?!” he screamed, pointing a shaky finger at me. “How did you get into my room?!”

“...Whuh? Huh? What do you mean, ‘your room’? It’s… not… mine?”

I looked around the room again and spotted some extra stuff I hadn’t noticed before: the slightly different wallpaper pattern, the furniture positions, the unfamiliar luggage, and not to mention, the outside view of the window was different than what I last remembered.

This… wasn’t my room?

“Eh? Wait, wh-what’s going on?! How did I get here?! Th-this isn’t my room!”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” said the stranger. “You just fell from the ceiling! Are you a wraith?! A burglar?! No, a-an assassin?! Are you after me?!”

“What are you talking about?” I frantically asked, standing up. “No, I’m not—urgh?!”

Another numbing sensation struck me again. I thought it was because I stood up too fast, but when I looked down, I’d finally noticed the familiar, glitchy static enveloping my legs and feet that… were phasing through the floor?!

“...Huh?” I took a step back, and my foot slightly dipped under the floor again. “What the hell? H-how…? What am I doing...?”

What was evening happening anymore? I could barely register the fact that everything I’d been through wasn’t a fever dream after all, but to wake up no-clipping into someone else’s room? How? Why? Weren’t these crazy glitches only happen in fights? Why did it happen outside of battle?!

“Th-this is a mistake!” I said, raising my hands. “I-I was—woah!”

I barely leaned my head away in time, evading something silver and sharp. It struck the wall behind me with a soft thunk, making me flinch.

I glanced over my shoulder, confirming that it was, in fact, a real dagger. An amateur mistake of mine, if I had to say so, because a second later, rapid footsteps approached me.

I spun back around and faced the stranger with another dagger in his hands. My fight or flight instincts kicked in, and I swiftly jumped out of the way. Another amateur mistake.

As expected, I ended up randomly teleporting and zooming around the room like some overgrown, mutated mosquito, screaming all the way. I’d knocked against the furniture, phased my head into adjacent rooms, accidentally smacked the poor guy’s head in the process, and eventually phased myself out through the window, sending me crashing against the cobblestone floor and rolling until I’d hit another wall.

I wearily groaned and shuddered at the sudden blast of frigid air. Uttering curses under my breath, I slowly pushed myself back up and massaged my shoulders. “The hell was that guy’s problem?” I grumbled.

As I looked around the eerily quiet, shadowy alleyway, I swallowed and started walking.

Now that I’d remembered it, crime rates in Cindespoir City were concerningly high. There were plenty of assassins, mercenaries, thieves, and demonic presences wandering around. Hell, I was pretty sure each of those dangerous groups had their own guild or other organization revolving around them too. Not to mention, fights would sometimes break out during this time. I’d even made some of those nightly battles taking place on the rooftops and the streets for both the side quests and the main story.

I suppose if I were that guy, I would’ve assumed I was after his head, like what he mentioned earlier. I couldn’t really blame him for throwing blades at me, then.

I turned to face the inn, pondering if I should head back to my room or not, but who could say I’d accidentally phase through into someone’s room again? How did that even happen?

“Damn it all,” I mumbled, scratching my head and walking away. “Maybe I should find some help first after all…”

…But where exactly could I find help in the middle of the night? No libraries, alchemy stores, or the church would be open at this hour. Maybe I could find a magic guild or something. I didn’t remember coding them to close at night, so it wouldn’t hurt to check it out.

With a destination in mind, I pulled my hood over my head and carefully treaded through the lifeless streets, making sure to keep my footsteps quiet. A few guards were patrolling here and there, but I wasn’t concerned about them in the slightest. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t really mind it all that much if I had to deal with them or some random street thug.

What I needed to avoid at all costs would perhaps be the most unpredictable monster in all of Cindespoir City.

Yep, a demon ambassador worse than Silvestine was patrolling around here too. I wouldn’t know what to do if I’d caught that maniac’s attention, but I should be fine. All I had to do was stay quiet, avoid making sudden movements, and most of all, pretend I didn’t exist. Simple enough, I basically grew up knowing how to be invisible! I was built for this!

I got this. I totally got this. Probably! Just pretend I'm walking through the streets of Tokyo and minding my own business... Taking slow, deep breaths, I carefully slipped into the alleyway and became one with the shadows.