BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! An alarm clock blared, dragging the boy from his peaceful slumber. "Dang it," he groaned, as he reached his hand over to stop the alarm. "It felt like I didn't sleep a wink last night. At least my head doesn't hurt anymore." He brought a hand to his hand as if the act of thinking about it made the pain come back only to freeze it in mid air.
"These weren't the clothes I wore yesterday," he said as he sat up and examined the clothes he now wore. It was a long sleeved gray shirt with two thin red lines running around the shirt at his chest and his pants the same gray color with the red lines forming a checkered pattern. "Where did I get these clothes? I don't remember owning anything like this. Nor sound like this."
He cleared his throat trying to get his voice to return to its normal sound. "That's weird," he said as he sat up in his bed, "I must have some sore throat. Well I'm sure a little water will help." As he turned to his bedside table to get one of the water bottles he normally kept there only for his face to meet with a very solid wall.
"Ow." He quickly scooted back on his bed to try and put some distance between the object and him. However in this effort his hand accidentally slipped causing him to fall backward, his head slamming onto the wood floor.
"Ow~" A whine escaped his lips as he brought his hands to the top of his head. "That hurt. A lo…" He trailed off. "What the heck is going on!?" He looked around the room he was in with stunned eyes. "Where the hell am I!?"
The room he once knew had been replaced with a completely foreign place with a completely different feel. The bed he had just fallen off lay across from the door. To his left was a desk covered in various papers, journals, and books of all different sorts. To his right was an open closet containing a dresser with a couple drawers open and various garments of clothing littered around it. Next to that was a small bookshelf with various literary works from small manga to huge novels lined the shelves. In between the two was a small window filtering the first rays of morning sun as they graced this earth. Resting on the window sill was the head part of a black guitar case.
He quickly turned around to look at the bed he just fell off of. The sheets were light blue with a white and blue plaid color covering the quilt. Just above the bed was another window with thin white curtains, allowing sunlight to come through but concealing the interior from prying eyes.
"What the heck happened to my room?" the boy yelled as he rushed over to the curtains, yanking them open. His vision was met with a bright flash of sunlight followed by town houses that he had never seen before. stunned by the unfolding events, the boy knelt silently on his bed for a few seconds, processing the changes that occurred before he started to chuckle nervously "Oh," he said, "I get it. This is all a dream. All I have to do is wake up."
He started to laugh a little more only for it to die in his throat. "Wait. If that's true then when I fell off the bed I would have woken up. I clearly felt pain when that happened which means this isn't a dream. So then what caused this? And…" His gaze turned to his reflection in the window. "What happened to me!?"
He quickly scanned the room looking for anything reflective, spotting a phone on the desk, buried underneath some papers. Moving like a rabid animal he rushed to the phone flipping it over to look at himself in the silver back of the phone. His eyes were a dark brown, so dark that you almost couldn't see his pupils. His hair was a little long but not so long he could be mistaken for a girl. His bangs curled upwards allowing it to remain out of his eyes, with a small section in the back that stuck up in an odd way.
"Yeesh," he said, a subtle smirk crossing his face. "I wonder if my family would even recognize me." He watched as his face morphed from carefree, to one of worry. "My family. I wonder what happened to them? Did something similar to my situation happen to them?"
He pondered this a moment before it dawned on him. "What happened to me? Last night I was in my room and then when I woke up I was here. That doesn't make any sense. How can I be in one place then wake up in a completely different one?"
He scanned the desktop for anything that could give him an inkling of a detail into his situation and his eyes fell upon a book. Upon the page were not the Greco-roman characters he was used to; instead there were various lines and shapes that despite not being extremely familiar with it he knew what it was. Even more remarkable, he could read it!
"This is Kanji," he remarked, a little dumbfounded. He quickly scanned the rest of the papers and books strewn across the desk. "They all have Kanji on them. Does that mean… I'm in Japan!" His heart gave a leap as he came to this realization. He had wanted to see Japan since he started taking interest in various video games, as most of them were produced in Japan. "If I wasn't trapped in this situation I would be thrilled but…"
His words sparked a memory in his mind of a story he had been reading. In it the character all of a sudden was transported into a world and situation they had no clue about. He remembered being curious about the genre and had searched it up on the phone before. "Isekai," his voice came out a little above a whisper. "That couldn't be could it?" He mulled it over in his mind trying in every way to disprove this absolutely absurd idea, but every attempt proved futile. He had already disproven sleep, and he didn't have multiple personality disorder. If this was a prank by his family then why did he look the way it did. That would involve an expert barber and plastic surgeon and on top of that he would have to be knocked out the entire time which would be impossible without someone with expert knowledge of medicine as well as a constant supply and even then they would still have to find some way to get him here as well. No, there was no way that this was some elaborate ruse.
But that meant his guess was correct. He was in an isekai. But that only made him feel worse. He could barely handle himself in his other reality, and now he had to adjust to a completely new world and life. "What kind of messed up joke is this? Why would I be drawn into an isekai?" He wracked his mind for what could have caused this but he came up blank.
He groaned, before looking around the room again. There were a few posters hung on the wall but none of them meant anything to him as he continued scanning the room finally noticing a calendar hanging on the other side of the desk. It was turned to the month of April and there in big letters on the box for the first was written "First Day Of School."
"Please tell me that is not today," he picked the phone up, looking closely at the date. "6:45 am, April 1st." He sighed to himself. He really wouldn't be getting any luck today would he. "Well I guess I should get dressed. Though I doubt I'll make it on time not knowing the area. That'll be a great first impression, showing up late on the first day of school. That's if I even show up at all." He looked around the room yet again, noticing a bag near the closet door, with a pair of matching gray pants and a gray blazer hanging next to a white button down shirt in the closet.
"And I'm guaranteeing that is my school uniform," he said, a despondent tone in his voice. "Knowing my luck at least." He quickly got dressed in his assumed attire, grabbing the matching bag, and making his way out of the room and down the stairs.
The house was small. The stairs came down into a small hallway that led to what he assumed was the front door, while a similar door like opening to his left opened into a nice living room with a comfy looking couch and a TV in the corner nearest to the door. Behind the couch was a small raised countertop that he assumed separated the kitchen from the rest of the living room. Beyond was a glass door that led into a small but quaint backyard.
"I'll say this isn't a bad place," he said as if he were purchasing it from someone as he made his way into the kitchen, absentmindedly opening the fridge as he continued to survey the area. "Even a decent amount to eat. Though I don't know how to cook that well. Not that I could eat a lot of it." He closed the fridge, and was about to turn away when he noticed the bread nearby. In his previous life he couldn't eat a lot of food because of allergies, including bread. But this wasn't that same life, right? So maybe…
He carefully walked over to the bread and took a slice out of the package before sinking his teeth into it. It was soft and flaky on his tongue, like a warm blanket in his mouth. It had been years since he had tasted bread, that warm fluffy feeling as it absorbed the saliva in his mouth. He never remembered bread tasting this good. Who knew that a simple piece of bread would be able to brighten his day. Maybe today wouldn't be all that bad.
He stood there savoring the taste for a little while longer before he noticed the bento box sitting on the countertop. "Come to think of it, I should bring lunch," he thought, "If only so I don't have to worry about finding it. I know people would share all the time back home but as the bread has already shown me this is clearly not home. Not to mention I won't be friends with anyone making it that much harder."
He quickly threw some rice, carrots, and a few other foods, including another piece of bread into the bento. Once he was satisfied with it he grabbed it and placed it into his bag.
He then took his time to search through the contents of his bag, looking at the names of the books as well as pulling out a wallet that was nestled between them. "A wallet," he said to himself, as he looked at the contents. "There is a decent amount of cash, but if this is all I have I'm going to be in trouble. I should find a nearby bank and see if I have any money saved up, and even then it would still probably be a good idea to try and find a job. Being without money in an unfamiliar place is definitely not a good idea."
He then pulled out a student ID card. On it was a picture of his face and information. "Karakura High Student ID," he read aloud. "Name: Makoto Tsukiyo, I guess that's my name. That might be hard to get used to. Birthday: August 2, well at least that stayed the same. I can't tell how many times I would have messed that up and had to find some excuse for why I gave the wrong date." he continued to scan the card for anything else that could prove important. "Age: 15, Height: 1.7 meters, Weight: 52 kgs. Well having a gauge on what my health looks like now is a good thing. Sheesh. I guess my horrible health in previous experiences really affected me more than I thought."
He looked at a clock on the nearby wall. "Shoot! It's seven o'clock! I need to get going otherwise I'll never find my way there. Who knows where the heck this Karakura High even is? I really hope I'm not late." He quickly grabbed the keys near the front door and ran out locking the door behind himself.
"Now I just need to find out where the heck the school even is," Makoto said to himself. He started walking down the street looking for somewhere he might be able to ask for directions, when he spotted a small clinic on the left side of the street. "Maybe they might be able to point me in the right direction."
As he neared the building he realized that the clinic actually seemed to be attached to what appeared to be a much more domestic residence in the back. A small gate blocked a walkway that led to a door. A little further down the street was a set of double doors to the clinic itself with metal handles curved into a square shape, with a sign above the doors that read Kurosaki Clinic. Through the giant windows on the door he could see a sign marked closed.
"Of course it's closed," Makoto sighed, "It's seven o'clock in the morning there is nowhere that would be open this early. Why would they? How many people are going to show up here this early in the morning, injured or otherwise? I guess I'll have to find someone else to ask." He turned and continued walking down the street a few meters more when he heard yelling behind him.
"Sorry Yuzu!" a male voice said, "I'll be back before noon. Leave it there. I'll eat it later." Makoto turned around just in time to see an orange haired boy, wearing the same outfit as him, run right by, heading in the direction he was walking. Behind him he heard another voice answer back but it was too far to catch what she said.
"I really can't tell if this is supposed to be the worst day of my life or the best," Makoto thought to himself. "But I guess I should follow him while I can still see him. Though with that hair color it would be kinda hard to miss." He quickened his pace so that he could keep up with the running figure but not enough to make it seem like he was following him. They ran for about a minute before the orange haired kid finally slowed his pace, which Makoto proceeded to match to keep a sizable distance between them. He continued following the boy a little longer before he finally stopped in front of a lamp post on the side of the road.
Makoto watched as the boy carefully took out the flowers that had been placed in the vase near the light but what shocked him more was the girl that the boy began to talk to as he placed new flowers into the vase. She was small, no more than four and a half feet tall, with a jean skirt and a white and pink striped tank top. Her long brown hair was tied up in pigtails held together by two beaded head bands but unlike most of the other people he had seen she was semi transparent and a giant chain stuck out of her chest!
"What the heck," Makoto thought to himself, "Who is that girl? What happened to her?"
"Mommy look," a young child said to his mother as they walked by the boy, "That boy is talking to the flowers."
"Yes honey. Now don't be rude," the woman holding the boy's hand replied as she quickened her pace trying to get her child away from the boy.
Makoto stood there in silence for a bit, rooted by the exchange he had just heard. That boy wasn't alone, that little girl was with him. How could they not see her standing there? She was as clear as day to him so why would that boy and his mother not be able to see her? Makoto's eyes wandered from the girl back to the orange haired boy then down to the flowers that he had just placed there. No! Could it be?
"Is she a ghost?" Makoto mumbled to himself. "No. That's not possible. Humans can't see ghosts. So then why can I…?
"Hey," a voice knocked him out of his thoughts, "You got a problem?" It was the orange haired boy he had been following. Apparently he had seen him staring and was not too happy about it.
"Uh. No," Makoto quickly said back. "I, uh, just saw you putting those flowers in the vase and wondered why you did that." He tried to speak calmly but his words came out a bit stuttered.
The boy's stern face relaxed a bit as he stood up. "They're a gift," he replied, the frown on his face morphing into a look of indifference. "You see there was an accident that happened here not too long ago. A little girl was killed in that accident, so I bring her flowers as a gift."
"Oh," Makoto replied in shock, a hint of sorrow filling his voice. "I'm sorry to hear that." His eyes turned to the little girl now peeking at him from behind the lamp post. "Maybe she would like it if I gave her some flowers too?" he said, turning back to the orange haired boy. "Would that be alright?"
The little girl leaned out from behind the lamp post her eyes wide if she couldn't believe it. The boy looked back at her with a questioning look on his face and she answered with a slight nod and "Yes please."
Makoto watched as the boy turned around and with a slight grin on his face he replied, "I think she would like that a lot."
Makoto gave a small smile. "Very well. I'll try my best not to disappoint her." he said as he watched a smile break across the lips of the little girl. He could tell that it really meant a lot to her. He really hoped he could pick something out that she would like. He would hate to see her cry. "Oh. Do you mind pointing me in the direction of Karakura High School? I'm new around here and so I don't really know the area that well."
"Karakura High School? It's right down that way," the boy replied pointing a finger down the street they were on. "It's about one or two blocks. Can't miss it?"
"Thank you," Makoto said, bowing his head slightly. "If not for you I might have been walking around for another hour before I got there. I should get going, I don't want to be late." Makoto waved and started walking in the direction that the boy had pointed, leaving him alone with the little spirit girl.
He walked in silence for a while mulling over the countless thoughts plaguing his mind. Who was that boy? Was that girl really a spirit, and if she was how could he see and hear her? Was it common for people to be able to see spirits? What was this world that he found himself in? How dangerous was it if spirits roamed free?
"Argh! I need to stop thinking about all of this," he said to himself. "I'm already stressed out enough that I ended up here and if I start worrying about something else I'm going to have a panic attack. Let's just get through school and then I'll worry about what I just heard." He then added with a small smile, "And find a flower shop where I can get a couple flowers for that little girl. After all, I can't disappoint her when she seemed so happy at the idea of more flowers being brought to her."
As he continued walking the streets grew more and more crowded with kids wearing a similar uniform as his own. He pushed past the crowds of students and found himself standing in front of a large three story building.
"I guess this must be the place," he said as he examined the surrounding area. There were tons of students around the entrance and the courtyard all enjoying their own conversations. "I should probably find out which class I'm in. I guess I should ask someone." He walked over to a group of girls and asked, "Excuse me. Do you know where I go to find out what class I'm in?"
"Right over there," a blonde girl replied pointing to a board with a couple students standing in front of it. "That board details all the class arrangements."
"Thank you," Makoto said, bowing his head before turning to walk to the board. When he was far enough away he let out a sigh of relief. "Well there's another thing that didn't change. I still can't talk to girls without freaking out. At least I didn't stumble all over my words. I don't know how I would deal with the idea of everyone in school thinking I can't talk to them. I wish for once I could act like a normal high school boy for a few seconds."
"The unimaginable has just become a reality!" said a brown haired boy next to the class board as he collapsed to his knees.
"Finally, someone I can agree with," Makoto thought to himself as he casually walked over to the board. "Bet he would freak if he was in my shoes."
He looked down at the sobbing boy before turning to his friend that was standing nearby. He was a good head shorter than Makoto with black hair, gray eyes, and a gentle smile. "What happened to him?" Makoto asked in a bland voice.
"Nothing too bad," the black haired boy replied, "He tends to overreact sometimes."
"This is not an over reaction," the brown haired boy said as he grabbed onto the bottom of Makoto's shirt, his terrified and distraught face covered in tears of fright. "After all you would be this way too if you knew you were going to be sharing a classroom with two of the worst people on the face of the earth."
"That's why I'm here," Makoto replied in a matter of fact tone, "Or is this not the place to find out what class you're in?" He rolled his eyes then went searching for his name on the board. It wasn't there. Nope not that one either. "Ah. There it is." He pointed to the name on one of the sheets. "Looks like I'm in class 1-3."
"What a coincidence," the black haired boy replied, "So are we. I'm Mizuiro Kojima and that's Keigo Asano." he said, extending his hand.
"Makoto Tsukiyooo,"
"Tsukiyo-san, run while you still can! Save yourself from the torture of their tyranny!" Keigo said, grabbing the collar of his shirt further pulling his face closer to Makoto's.
"Dude, relax," Makoto said to the frantic boy clutching his shirt like it was a lifeline. "Have you even met them? I'm sure that they're not as bad…"
He never got to finish his sentence. At that moment two figures burst through the board. One was a tall dark skinned boy with brown hair who was currently in the act of punching someone, and the other was the orange haired boy that Makoto had met earlier who had his foot firmly planted into the face of another. Their momentum took them right over Makoto's shoulder, landing a few yards behind him. Students all around started screaming at the sight.
"Oh~no! It's Chad and Ichigo!" Keigo said in a frightened voice as recognized the two students that landed behind them.
"Ichigo?" Makoto asked in a surprised tone, completely oblivious to the giant death circle that began forming around him and the other four, his mind focused on another question entirely. 'Could that man be Ichigo Kurosaki?'
"No! No! No! No! NO!" Keigo cried, clearly terrified out of his mind. "This can't be happening! This is like some horrible nightmare that just keeps getting worse and worse! It's a nightmare! Please tell me it's a nightmare!"
"Please shut up," Mizuiro replied in his completely unconfrontational voice, clearly annoyed by Keigo's constant whimpering and moaning.
Suddenly the three of them heard a dark chuckle coming from behind them as they turned to see a tall man, his hair was clearly bleached and he had three earrings on his left ear as well as a single ring that pierced through his bottom lip, and a face that showed clear signs of malicious intent. "Chad and Ichigo running away like two scared little rabbits.
"Reiichi Oshima from Togata Junior High!" exclaimed Keigo, his face going from panic to that of horror.
"Hey Keigo, how is it that you're so well informed about all these juvenile delinquents?" Mizuiro asked his friend, "And I don't know if you noticed but all of them seem to be on our class's roster."
"What's your problem," the bully said, turning to Keigo, "You a friend of Ichigo's or something."
"No, not me! I've never seen or met the guy before today, honestly!" said Keigo, using every last bit of his strength not to crumble to the ground under the intense stare of this guy. Unfortunately his friends didn't share Keigo's sense of self preservation and had already approached the other party in the center of this encirclement.
"Long time no see old friend," Makoto said to the boy who helped him earlier.
"You're that guy from before," the orange haired boy said, recognizing Makoto's face.
"Thanks again for the directions earlier. I realized I ran off without telling you my name," he replied, "I'm Makoto Tsukiyo and from what that guy back there keeps spouting it sounds like we're all in the same class."
"Guys! What are you doing?! Get back here! Don't get involved!" Keigo screamed in the background.
"Mizuiro Kojima from Hiragi Second Junior High. I'm in Class 1-3 as well. It's nice to meet you," Mizuiro said to the orange haired boy, ignoring the pleas of his trembling friend as he was approached by the bleached haired bully.
"Class 1-3? I guess we are. I'm Ichigo Kurosaki and this here is Chad Yasutora," the orange haired boy said pointing to the tall boy behind him, who bowed slightly as his name was said. "It's good to meet you. So who's the doormat over there?"
They turned back to see Keigo lying on his chest firmly beneath the bully's foot calling their names. "That's Keigo Asano," Mizuiro stated, "He doesn't do too well in school, but he's a pretty smart guy. Honest, likable, loyal. What can I say, he's a hundred times better than me."
"Just watch out, if he gets too scared he'll strangle you to death," Makoto added, a touch of humor in his voice.
"Sure looks like what that guy is doing to him?" Ichigo remarked, which caused Makoto to look back at Keigo. Sure enough Keigo seemed to be struggling to breath as Reiichi dug his shoe further into Keigo's back. Ichigo groaned before reaching up and undoing the zipper on his blazer revealing the blue shirt he was wearing underneath. "Hey, how good are you guys at making excuses?"
"Terrible," said Makoto.
"Pathologically," replied Mizuiro, in a deadpan voice.
"Alright you've got five minutes to come up with something creative," Ichigo said with a confident air.
"I have a bad feeling I know where this is heading," Makoto said, almost as if he was pleading that he'd be wrong in this case.
"We're gonna need something that's good enough to keep us all from getting suspended for rescuing Keigo." Upon finishing his sentence Ichigo and Chad both rushed toward the line of bullies without a second thought.
Makoto sighed while he quickly unzipped his own blazer to prevent it from restricting his movement. "I hate it when I'm right." he said, watching the rest of the bullies close in on them, taking note of which ones had wooden swords and other improvised weaponry. "Ever been in a fight before Mizuiro?"
"A couple. You?"
Makoto grinned. "Absolutely not." With that he leaped into action, landing a kick onto one of the bullies with a wooden sword in his hands knocking him to the ground unconscious.
In two seconds he found himself surrounded as yet another opponent charged forward a fist aimed right for his face. Makoto quickly ducked and after a single step kicked his feet out from under him, causing his attacker to stubble knocking into a couple guys behind where he had been standing. "Unfortunately they don't know that," Makoto thought to himself. "And even though I have never been in a fight my reaction time was always still really good despite the fact my muscles had atrophied. Now that I have some muscle, taking on a couple guys will be nothing." He raised his arms in an X formation catching a wooden sword as it came down towards his head, biting back the pain he felt from the impact on his forearms, as he grabbed the blade and pulled it towards him allowing him to land a punch to the one who was using it. "I guess my wish came true. I got into a fight on the first day of school. Can't get much more normal than that."