*

  My name doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m on my way to work. You probably think I’m about to tell you I have the best job in the world, that I love my life, and that I’m living my dreams here in Kyoto.

  Well, you’re wrong.

  I hate my job. I hate my life. And most of all, I hate the fact that I can’t change any of it. My job is soul-sucking, but I need it to pay for food and rent. And every miserable shift is a reminder that this is all I’ll ever have.

  Okay, maybe that was a little harsh. Sorry about that. Let’s start over.

  My name is ******. I live in modern-day Japan, I’m 22 years old, and I have no family, no friends, and definitely no girlfriend. The only things that keep me going are anime, manga, and novels—especially isekai. Those stories of escaping into another world? Yeah, they’ve been my lifeline.

  But let me back up a bit.

  My parents died when I was eight, and honestly? Good riddance. My father beat me for no reason, and my mother? She wouldn’t even feed me. She said breastfeeding was a "waste of her time." Who says that to their own child? I grew up half-starved while they spent their days high on drugs and screwing random strangers in the living room. When they died in a car accident, all they left me was a sense of relief.

  From there, it didn’t get much better. I ended up in a child care center where the adults bmed me for everything and the other kids bullied me relentlessly. At least I got a basic education out of it. But the one thing I learned above all else? People suck.

  Now here I am, a supermarket worker with a life that feels as lifeless as the fluorescent lights above me. It’s not like I ever dreamed big or expected happiness, but I’d hoped for something more than… this.

  I sigh, shaking my head. No use dwelling on it. What should I eat tonight? Ramen again? Maybe—

  “LOOK OUT!”

  “WATCH OUT!”

  “MOVE!”

  The shouts barely register. I gnce around, confused, until I notice the crosswalk under my feet. The light’s red. Cars are honking. And barreling toward me is—oh, great. It’s Truck-kun.

  There’s no fear, no regret. Just a faint sense of curiosity. I guess this is it. My life, such as it was, is over.

  As the world fades to bck, a single thought slips through my mind.

  In my next life, I just want to be loved. To love and be loved in return.

  Queen