便宜自殺 - Bengi jisatsu - 1

Is it okay to not have regrets? To be completely honest, I think I'm pretty content with the way things have turned out, but at the same time, I think If I ever told somebody that, I'd be called a terrible person. I don't think I could possibly blame someone for thinking that. Sitting up, however, all those thoughts of what people may think leave my mind, replaced instead by the realization that I'm not dead. I look up, seeing the massive way up, and feel deep confusion. What the hell is this? I thought humans didn't survive shit like long falls. Did I get jibbed by life itself? No, wait, that doesn't make sense. I have to be dead. So...does that mean I'm a ghost?

Once that thought comes to my mind, I notice a feeling of something in my pocket. Confused, I reach into my pocket and feel the sensation of paper against my fingertips. I pull it out and find it neatly folded up for me, just waiting to be unwrapped. I look around, confirming that I'm definitely alone, before wondering if I had taken a note with me. I unfold the paper with gently shaking fingers. It takes me a moment to process the raindrops pattering against my body as I so intently watch the folds move. As the paper returns to its messy whole, I find a message for me, written in clean handwriting.

Starting the moment you finish this note,

You'll have six hours to kill a beast roaming the streets of this city.

To make this easier for you, I have placed you in a special spiritual realm,

Where only you and it may interact with each other.

If you fail to kill it within the given time, I will send your soul straight to oblivion.

If you succeed, I will give you a second chance at life...

That may not sound appealing now, but I'm hopeful you'll have a change of heart.

Good luck.

-Basically God

What the fuck? I stand up, looking around at the alley I was in, and focus on the area just outside it. Moving forward, my shoes meet the sidewalk, and under the pouring rain, I'm met by the lights of the streetlamps, mixed with the bright signs of businesses. All the streets, all the sidewalks, despite being a city with a massive populace that I've seen for myself, are completely empty. This is...absolutely impossible. For the time being, I choose to believe this note isn't bullshit. Looking back down, I suck in my lips. Something is...here with me, and it probably has no qualms with killing me.

"You've gotta be kidding me," I mumble to myself.

In response, I get a long, powerful screech, sounding like that of a dying woman, somewhere in the distance.

"Oh fuck."

...

It's come to my attention that, despite the rain, I'm not getting cold. Actually, my senses are really all over the place. I can touch myself, feel myself, I can sense the texture of things like the smoothness of the bricks making up the buildings of the impoverished area I'm passing through, but when it comes to things like temperature or taste (yes, I licked a brick) I found them to be lacking. Either there was a numbness, or there was a lack of any kind of stimulus I could credit to one of those two. It's kind of fucking with me admittedly. What exactly is causing this, being dead or being in this supposedly separate realm? Regardless of which it is, it's only adding to my stress.

Along with the lack of certain stimuli, I've also noticed the addition of neon clocks. It is 12:34 AM, and it feels like it's been 34 minutes or so, I can only assume that my time limit started at 12, and seeing the time passing is doing nothing to help this situation at all. I begin to chatter my teeth if only to add some realism to this unreal situation, when I notice as I'm turning a corner, a little Chinese restaurant, its entrance nestled here in the corner. Its overhang protects me from the rain, and as thanks, I look through the glass entrance door. The inside is filled with warm lights, and I can only imagine it must feel so comfortable inside. Running on pure desire for some escape, I push the door open and fall inside. I don't feel any warmer or colder than I did outside, the same nothingness covering me, but what I do feel is a strange sense of ease.

Looking up from the floor, I get a better feel of the gentle atmosphere. The soft music playing from an unseen cheap Bluetooth speaker, the paintings and pictures hanging from the walls, little trinkets of unknown importance to my ignorant self all around. I pick myself up, my chattering coming to an end. This is truly wonderful. I look over the empty counter and register, seeing nobody. I guess I shouldn't have expected anything else. I let my eyes move over to the seating to see about four booth tables with seats to go with, and about three tables with chairs. Not all too spacious, further confirmation of it being a small place I suppose. What did stick out as most strange was the two plates of food, each in separate booths. Walking forward, I noticed that the first one I came to was my favorite order from most Chinese restaurants.

The sight of beef lo-mein almost stops my heart. I feel my saliva glands about to explode as I sit down, grab the fork placed next to the plate, and begin to thoughtlessly dig in. I can tell the taste still isn't there, but my mind does most of the work, imagining the taste so vividly it may as well be an exception. I let it slide down my throat with a soft sigh of calmness. If only I could really be tasting this, that would be so much better than just a thought.

Well, you would be, if you didn't go and-

I stop myself right there. No. No thinking like that. No regrets, no regrets. I sigh, letting the fork drop onto the plate, the illusion ruined. Staring down at the food without taste, I hear a sound. A sound like chewing. I look up from my plate and see, at the other booth that had a plate, a pretty average-looking dude, with black hair that hung just over his shoulders and over his left eye. A white t-shirt is just under his grey sweatshirt, making him a pretty bland sight. I'm sure I'm no better. I look down to see the black hoodie and sweatpants I had thrown on before leaving last night.

Wait.

I look back at the dude, feeling absolute dread. What the hell is someone else doing here? I gulp as he turns to stare out the window at the pouring rain. Is...is it possible this dude is the monster? Can it transform? Is he going to kill me when I stop looking at him? After a moment, I notice his eyes flick from the window to me. We stare at each other for a moment before he starts to fidget and I freak out, falling out of my seat and starting to run off.

"W-wait, hold on!" I hear him yell as I fall over a chair and smack my face into the ground. Ow! Good to know pain is still a sensation I can grasp. I hold my nose, feeling blood leak down into my cupping hands as I see something enter my field of vision, I jolt, looking in panic to see...a napkin. Looking up at the person holding it out to me, I see him shyly smiling, setting my nerves a bit less on edge. I carefully reach out and take the napkin, carefully wiping my nose. He falls onto his rear, watching me clean myself up. "I'm gonna go ahead and assume you aren't a monster come to rip me open then." He says in a gentle voice. I can finally see that he's also wearing black sweatpants. Haha, twins...I look away, feeling a bit embarrassed for how I acted.

"Yeah, I suppose you aren't one either." He shakes his head, giving a thumbs up. Well, yeah, I've definitely made a fool of myself. "S-sorry for being jumpy," I mumble.

"Nah, I get it. I'm gonna assume you're in a similar predicament to me. Only natural I think." He chuckles a bit, and I end up doing the same. With a sigh, I start to stand up. "So, if you don't mind me asking, uhm, how exactly did you die?" I process his question and give the first answer I think of.

"Got hit by a car," I say with an unsettling flatness. He seems to buy it, nodding.

"That's rough. Well, don't worry. As long as we kill that thing, we should be alright. Though, uhm, I guess that would be easier said than done." He stands up himself, before seeming to realize something. "Oh, right, what's your name?" He asks.

"...Y-Yuta," I mumble. He nods.

"Alright Yuta, I'm Marco. Good to have some company." He says with a smile, sticking out his hand. Cautiously, I reach out and take that hand with my own.

It's the only thing I've felt with a temperature. It was warm.