Another World?

I woke up with a gasp, feeling like I'd just been slapped in the face by a fluorescent bulb. Squinting against a light that would've made the midday sun at the airport look like a candle, I started to take in the scene around me.

The transformation was jarring. It felt like I'd been plucked out of the noisy, concrete jungle I called home and dropped straight into one of my own sketches. Rolling emerald-green grasslands stretched out before me, and I half-expected to find traces of my own pencil strokes if I looked close enough.

This wasn't the muddy green of my own half-baked attempts at artistry, either. The grass here was a pure, vibrant emerald, swaying gently in a breeze that made no sense to me.

How was there wind?

This place wasn't real, right?

But then, why was the grass so... grassy?

Above me, a blue sky stretched out, as if someone had decided to put Bob Ross to shame. The usual jet engines' drone was missing, replaced by a soundtrack so peaceful it was suspicious. 

Were those... birds?

I'll admit it, I was freaking out a little. Or a lot. I mean, hallucinations aren't supposed to be this imaginative, right? They're supposed to be unicorns and floating cheeseburgers, not panoramic landscapes.

I sat up, half-expecting the reality of the airport tarmac to replace the cool, dewy grass. But instead, I was met with a rustling in the bushes and a face that belonged on one of the internet's many cat videos.

"Hi!" The half-girl, half-cat chimed, her voice like a Disney princess on helium. "My name is Pyuan. Sleep well, sleepyhead~pyu?"

"Pyuan. The name rang a bell, but it was one of those bells you hear in a dream and can't quite place. I remembered hearing it before, but where? Was it a random comment I overheard at work, a character from some gacha game, or the name of a cute cat-girl from a hallucination that was starting to feel too real?"

As I tried to piece together the puzzle, Pyuan was already chattering away, her tail swinging back and forth like a metronome.

"You're not much of a talker, are you?" she asked, cocking her head to one side like a curious puppy. "No worries, I can handle the talking part~pyu!"

Yes, dear Pyuan, because what I needed was more reasons to doubt my sanity.

Despite the outlandish circumstances, I found myself swept up in Pyuan's contagious cheerfulness. It's not every day you get invited to share pannas and junberries (whatever those were) with a cat-girl in an imaginary landscape, after all.

The more time I spent with Pyuan, the more this strange world began to blend with my subconscious memory. The winding trails, the whispering trees, the babbling brook, each appeared as if they had been born from the intimate dance between my pencil and paper. Even the distant mountain range, shrouded in a veil of mist, seemed to echo a sketch I'd drawn on a day when reality had been too mundane.

Under the guidance of Pyuan, the cat-girl with a knack for endearing rhymes, I spent the day weaving through this fantastical wonderland. We meandered down winding trails and each turn felt like a déjà vu stirring in my mind. Every detail — the cobblestone paths underfoot, the whisper of the willowy trees overhead, and the soft murmuring of a nearby stream — felt as if it were plucked right from my sketchbook, transforming pencil strokes into a living, breathing reality.

Midway through our exploration, Pyuan turned to me, her ears twitching in curiosity. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Nanang," I answered, surprised she hadn't asked sooner.

"Nanang... Nanang... Bananang!" she sang out, clapping her hands and swishing her tail in delight. "That's a fun name~pyu!"

I couldn't resist the urge to laugh. Here I was, amidst a dreamlike landscape, with a rhyming cat-girl for company. My job at the airport had never prepared me for a day quite like this one. As the laughter subsided and twilight began to creep in, Pyuan rose to her feet. "Let's head back to the village~pyu. There's an inn where you can rest," she suggested, pointing toward a cluster of rustic buildings in the distance.

As the day transitioned into twilight, Pyuan led me towards a snug and rustic inn tucked away at the village's fringe. The exterior, marked by age and affection, radiated a welcoming homeliness that felt as though it was lifted straight from my sketches. The inn's caretaker, a robust man with a kindly face named Orym, greeted us. His eyes held the warmth of the evening sun melting into the horizon. He was a towering figure, with a silver beard that touched his chest, giving him an air of wisdom and a gentle authority.

"This is Nanang," Pyuan began, her tail twitching rhythmically as if punctuating her words. The corners of her mouth curved upwards into a small, reassuring smile. "He's... an unusual traveler~pyu. I found him unconscious near the Misty Mire. Could he possibly stay here for the night~pyu?"

Orym's gaze, touched with a hint of amused curiosity, settled on me. He offered a gentle nod, silent but understanding. A playful twinkle danced in his eyes, a reflection of the day's remaining light, and the room filled with unspoken intrigue. The once mundane evening had, perhaps, become a bit more interesting.

"Payment?" Orym asked, his voice a comforting low rumble. Pyuan's ears perked up at that, her gaze shifting to me. I shrugged, a sudden wave of helplessness washing over me as I realized that I had no knowledge of the currency or economic system of this world. Pyuan, however, seemed unfazed. "Don't worry, Orym. I'll be his guarantee!" she declared with a confident nod. "We'll figure that out tomorrow." With a wave of her hand, she then ushered me to my room.

The room was simple but comforting, with a rustic wooden bed and a flickering candle that cast dancing shadows on the walls. As I lay down, the soothing creak of the inn's timbers, combined with the soft hum of village nightlife, lulled me into a sense of calm. It was a strange melody that felt both foreign and strangely familiar.

Nestled within the rustic simplicity of my dimly lit room, my scattered thoughts began to weave into a coherent tapestry. This wasn't a hallucination, nor an episode of heat-induced delirium. The term 'isekai', a phrase often tossed around in my manga studies, slipped into my understanding. As if a whimsical author penned my fate, I had somehow swapped the drab monotony of airport tarmac for a world pulsating with ethereal charm and vibrant life. Yet, the puzzle's most intriguing piece eluded me: the uncanny familiarity of this fantastical world, a familiarity that seemed to lurk just out of grasp. Deciding to let that enigma rest until dawn, I welcomed the comforting lull of sleep, allowing its gentle current to carry me into tomorrow's adventures.

I couldn't help but laugh at how weird things had turned out. I was just a baggage handler with big dreams of drawing manga. Now, here I was, getting ready to sleep in a world that seemed straight out of one. What would tomorrow hold? More wonders to explore? new corners of this whimsical world to uncover? Or maybe, just maybe, I'd open my eyes to the stark reality of the airport, ready to shoulder another day of baggage handling.

Who knows, right?