Rain tapped softly against the apartment window.
Inside the small, dim living room, Haruki Kuroda sat alone on the floor with his back against the couch.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
He held an ice pack against the side of his face where a bruise had started to form.
Another day.
Another beating.
The bullies at school had been especially cruel today.
One had shoved him down the stairs.
Another had kicked him while he was on the ground.
Haruki slowly removed the ice pack and looked at his reflection in the dark TV screen.
A swollen cheek.
Split lip.
Messy black hair.
He sighed.
“Whatever…”
He tried to sound calm, like it didn’t bother him.
Like he was stronger than them.
In reality, he had never fought back once.
But in his head, things were different.
In his head, he imagined himself as the main character of some fantasy story. A powerful warrior who would one day show everyone how wrong they were about him.
He smirked weakly.
“Just wait… one day I’ll be crazy strong.”
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
The front door suddenly opened.
Haruki didn’t move.
He already knew who it was.
Footsteps echoed through the hallway.
His younger sister stepped into the room.
Aika Kuroda.
Long black hair.
Cold eyes.
Eyes that had looked at him with nothing but hatred for years.
She stopped a few steps away from him.
“Pathetic.”
Haruki didn’t react.
He was used to it.
“You got beat up again?” she asked.
He shrugged.
“They just got lucky.”
Aika stared at him in silence.
Then she laughed.
Not kindly.
Not jokingly.
Just cruelly.
“Lucky? Haruki… you didn’t even try to fight back.”
Her words stabbed deeper than the bruises.
Still, he forced a small grin.
“Why bother? If I actually fought seriously, they’d be done for.”
Even he knew it sounded stupid.
But admitting weakness was worse.
Aika’s expression darkened.
“You really believe that, don’t you?”
Haruki didn’t answer.
The room grew quiet again.
Then Aika slowly reached into her pocket.
Metal glinted in the dim light.
A knife.
Haruki frowned.
“What are you doing?”
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then she whispered something so quietly he almost didn’t hear it.
“I hate you.”
Haruki blinked.
“…What?”
Before he could react—
She lunged forward.
The blade plunged into his stomach.
Warmth spread instantly across his shirt.
Haruki gasped.
The world seemed to freeze.
He looked down slowly.
The knife handle stuck out of his body.
Blood began soaking through the fabric.
His mind couldn’t process what had just happened.
“…Aika?”
Her hands trembled.
But her eyes were still filled with that same hatred.
“You ruin everything,” she said.
Haruki’s legs gave out.
He collapsed onto the floor.
Pain exploded through his body.
His breathing became shaky and uneven.
“W–why…?”
He didn’t understand.
Not really.
Maybe she had always hated him.
Maybe he had just been too stupid to notice.
Blood pooled beneath him.
His vision blurred.
This is it…
Fifteen years of a miserable life.
Bullied.
Ignored.
Hated.
And now killed by his own sister.
How pathetic.
Haruki let out a weak laugh.
“Heh…”
Even now, part of his brain tried to comfort him with fantasy.
Maybe this is like those stories.
Maybe I’ll wake up in another world.
A world where he could be strong.
A world where people wouldn’t look down on him.
Darkness slowly crept into the edges of his vision.
His body grew cold.
The last thing he heard was Aika’s shaky breathing.
Then everything went black.
Silence.
Endless darkness.
For a moment, there was nothing.
Then—
A distant voice echoed in the void.
“—Soul detected.”
Haruki’s fading consciousness flickered.
“…Huh?”
“Compatibility confirmed.”
“Reincarnation sequence starting.”
Light suddenly exploded around him.
Warm.
Blinding.
And unfamiliar.
“Welcome, lost soul.”
“Your new world awaits.”
Haruki Kuroda’s second life had begun.
