POW!
The punch hit Kazuki like a truck. He didn't even see it coming—just a blur, then a sharp burst of pain as the bully's fist smashed into his jaw.
His body flew backward and hit the floor hard, knocking the breath out of him. His head spun, and for a second, everything around him faded into a blur.
He lay there, stunned and hurting, as the bully stood over him, smirking. Everyone around them watched him struggle to get up, not daring to intervene otherwise they'd meet the same fate as him.
"Huh? What did you say Matasuragi? I couldn't hear you over the sound of your moaning." The bully smirked as he wiped Kazuki's blood off his knuckles, slow and satisfied, like he'd just finished a chore he enjoyed a little too much.
"That'll teach you to defy us, who do you think you are? Hovering over my girl like that!?" The bully—Xander, fumed, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
Behind him, his crew watched in silence, their faces unreadable. But it was the girl that stood out—huddled behind Xander, her hands shaking as tears streamed down her cheeks.
She looked at Kazuki with wide, guilt-ridden eyes.
"I d-didn't know she was your girlfriend, all I did... Was to ask for her help..." Kazuki coughed, his hand trembling as he pushed himself up slightly. His head was pounding, the world still spinning from the blow Xander had landed.
All he managed was a weak, cracked voice.
"Help? You came to my girl to ask for help!?"
"Xander, I think he's talking about his mother, you know the woman that got put in the hospital after some thugs raped her." One of his lackeys said.
"Is that right?" Xander smiled, sliding his hands into his pockets. "You mean that widow? Well, can't say she didn't deserve it for bringing a trash like you into this world."
Kazuki's eyes snapped open, sharp and full of fury. The wave of weakness that had weighed him down vanished the instant he heard them mention his mother.
His breath steadied. His jaw tightened.
As the bullies laughed, mocking her condition like it was some kind of joke, something in Kazuki broke. Without thinking, he surged forward and drove a clean, powerful right cross straight into Xander's face.
Xander staggered back, clutching his face in shock, while Kazuki stood firm, fists clenched, eyes blazing—not with pain, but with rage.
"Xander!" Xander's lackeys didn't hesitate. The moment Kazuki's punch landed, they charged at him like a pack of wolves.
Fists flew, kicks landed. Kazuki barely had time to raise his arms before the first hit struck him square in the ribs. Another blow slammed into his back, and then another to his stomach.
He hit the ground hard, but they didn't stop. They kept attacking him relentlessly with punches and stomps.
"You bastard..." Xander wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his tongue briefly brushing the cut with a cold smirk. He got to his feet, brushed the dust off his clothes, and straightened his jacket like nothing had happened.
With slow, deliberate steps, he walked toward Kazuki, who lay bruised and beaten on the ground.
"You've got some nerves Matasuragi." Xander stood over Kazuki like a shadow ready to consume the light. He cracked his knuckles, one hand after the other.
Then, without hesitation, he began to unleash blow after blow—brutal and merciless punches that echoed through the hallway. Each strike was heavier than the last, fueled by pride and anger.
Kazuki didn't even have the strength to raise his arms anymore.
The crowd that had gathered began to back away, faces pale, some turning their heads away, others leaving entirely.
No one dared to step in.
By the time Xander was done with him, Kazuki was barely conscious, blood all over his face and his vision blurry as hell.
"That'll teach you to mess with my girl, let's go." Xander gave Kazuki a hard kick in the leg, then stepped over him without a second glance.
His gang followed close behind, laughing as they walked away, leaving Kazuki lying on the floor, bruised and close to death.
The girl followed after them, a wide grin on her face as if she enjoyed every second of it.
"Why..." Kazuki muttered, his voice barely audible.
"Why?" She laughed. "You had the nerve to approach me, you, a nobody approach me for help? You're going to pay dearly for that, this is only just the beginning."
She left, walking directly behind the group.
Once the crowd had fully cleared out, Kazuki slowly pushed himself up, trembling as he rose to his feet. Every movement hurt, but he forced himself to stand, drawing on what little strength he had left.
Bruised, bloodied, and limping, he left the school grounds in silence, heading home with nothing but pain and anger in his steps.
Kazuki Matasuragi.
An average 18-year-old boy, just about 6 feet tall. He has a lean but muscular build, blue eyes, and soft white hair. His looks and intelligence were nothing special, but he still stood out a little because of his hair.
Years ago, he lost both his father and older brother in a tragic car accident, leaving only his mother by his side. Since that day, the once joyful and respected Matasuragi family fell into silence and sorrow, their home no longer filled with laughter but with grief and struggle.
They became a struggling family, often surviving on just one meal a day. His mother worked tirelessly, barely managing to keep Kazuki in school.
But just when life seemed like it was starting to improve, tragedy struck again—his mother was attacked by a group of thugs. The trauma of the assault left her hospitalized, both mentally and physically shattered.
Now, she couldn't receive treatment until the bills were paid. Despite struggling to raise the required amount of money, Kazuki also faced several hardships in school as he became a constant target for the bullies in school.
As Kazuki walked down the streets, his eyes were cold and distant, lost deep in thought. It wasn't that he felt nothing—on the contrary, he felt everything all at once. The weight of his mother's condition, the pain from the beatings, and the constant struggle pressed down on him like a storm he couldn't escape.
The similarities between all of them? He was too weak to do anything about it.
"Hey kid!"
Several people called out to Kazuki, their voices echoing from nearby shops and sidewalks—but he didn't respond. It was as if their words couldn't reach him, drowned out by the noise in his own mind.
They shouted again, louder this time, but it was no use.
Then came the blaring horn of an oncoming vehicle, cutting through everything like a warning bell too late to stop.
As Kazuki looked up, it was already too late—a speeding truck barreled toward him like a battering ram. The impact was brutal, sending his body flying before it crashed onto the pavement with a sickening thud.
Blood splattered across the sidewalk, painting a grim scene. His body lay still—broken, lifeless.
Just before his consciousness slipped away entirely, a faint smile curved Kazuki's lips. The pain was fading, the noise growing distant. And though a part of him ached at the thought of leaving his mother alone in such a harsh world, another part felt… relieved.
And for the first time in a long while, everything was quiet, peaceful. It was over, the pain, the suffering and agony, all fading into the abyss.
"Mom... I'm sorry."
Then.
His eyes slowly opened, only to find himself suspended in a vast, dark void, no ground beneath him, no sky above. Just endless nothingness. He floated aimlessly, weightless, as if untethered from the universe itself.
Before he could even begin to comprehend where he was or what had happened, voices echoed all around him, whispers, murmurs, and fragments of speech.
They came from every direction, overlapping in a chaotic hum.
"W-where are we?"
From the tone and pitch of the voices, it was clear—whoever they are, they were teenagers. Some spoke with urgency, others with fear or confusion, and a few with anger. It felt like he was surrounded by echoes of souls just like him—young, lost, and caught in something far beyond their understanding.
"I see, we died... Didn't we?"
"That's right, you all died." A high-pitched voice, sharp and commanding, rang out above the rest, demanding attention and obedience. It carried a tone of authority that silenced the other murmurs instantly.
Without warning, a blinding light flooded the vast darkness, forcing Kazuki's eyes shut. As the brilliance gradually dimmed, it revealed a radiant, angelic figure hovering before him—wings outstretched, eyes glowing with ethereal wisdom, and a presence so powerful it made the space itself feel sacred.
That wasn't all. Now that the darkness had lifted and the space around him was bathed in light, he noticed two other figures floating nearby. They were boys, and the two of them wore the same school uniform as he did, torn, bloodstained, and eerily familiar. A cold chill ran down his spine as the realization hit him.
They were from his school.
And somehow, they had died at the exact same moment he did.
Though the two boys both wore the same school uniform, their faces didn't ring any bells. Kazuki scanned each of them carefully, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't place them in any of his classes, clubs, or even passing glances in the hallway.
"W-who are you!?" One of the boys suddenly shouted, his voice trembling with fear and panic.
Terror, fear. Both are born from the same root—humanity's inability to comprehend the unknown or predict the uncontrollable. In that sense, her reaction wasn't weakness, it was instinct.
Aside from the boy that panicked, the other one along with Kazuki remained still, unfazed. That didn't mean he wasn't afraid. Fear pulsed somewhere deep within him, buried beneath layers of shock and resignation. But what use was fear to the dead? What did a corpse have left to lose? Instincts had simply taken over, grounding him?
The glowing light around the angelic figure faded, and in its place stood a woman so beautiful it was hard to believe she was real.
Her skin looked smooth and pale, almost shining. Long white hair fell down her back, and her golden eyes seemed to glow gently.
"I am Virelia, the goddess of fate." She replied with a calm and gentle voice, each word flowing like a soft melody through the vast space.
Her tone carried warmth, yet an unshakable firmness, exuding the brilliance of the title she had attained.