Chapter 1 – Isekai Is Not for Idiots (Especially Me)
POV: Ren Kisaragi, Age 13
Let's get something straight right away: the world is weird.
Like Hell Creatures, multiverses, and people-who-can-punch-through-mountains weird.
And somehow, I—Ren Kisaragi, The Secret Weapon of the Veiled Moon Sect—keep getting dragged into the craziest parts of it.
You'd think nearly dying in a fight against your best friend would be the peak of drama.
Nope.
Apparently, that was just the prelude.
It all started the day I got out of the hospital.
My body still ached like I'd been run over by a train. You know, those giant metal snake-things Sage Yun Che of the World Furnace Sect supposedly introduced after one of his journeys.
I had never actually seen one.
But based on the drawings?
Getting hit by one looked about right.
My ribs were sore, my ego was shattered, and don't even ask about my heart.
Kyo—my teammate, rival, best friend, and guy-most-likely-to-brood-in-the-rain—had left the Veiled Moon Sect.
Not for a vacation.
Not because he wanted to see the world.
For power.
A Sage had offered it to him.
And not just any Sage.
Sage Shirogane, a man infamous throughout the eastern lands for believing that no price was too high if knowledge waited on the other side.
Forbidden techniques?
Worth it.
Human experimentation?
Probably worth it.
Opening an ancient tomb with DO NOT OPEN carved across the entrance in seven languages?
Knowing him, he'd call that an invitation.
Kyo had gone with him willingly.
And I couldn't stop him.
Even after nearly dying...
Even after my friends nearly died trying to help...
I still lost.
I wasn't strong enough.
So naturally, I did what any perfectly healthy, emotionally stable thirteen-year-old ninja would do after his best friend abandoned him and nearly killed him.
I found a notebook and started writing down all the ways I sucked.
I climbed to the top of the Tower of Trials, the tallest training structure in the Veiled Moon Sect.
Every young ninja knew that tower.
You trained there.
You got tested there.
You got graded there.
And if the instructors decided you were finally competent enough not to accidentally stab yourself during a mission, you were allowed to take assignments outside the Sect.
I sat near the edge with my legs hanging over several hundred feet of empty air.
Very safe.
Extremely responsible.
My notebook rested on my knees.
At the top of the page, I'd written:
THINGS REN KISARAGI IS TERRIBLE AT
Then I started.
Speed? Weak.
Close Combat? Meh.
Ki Control? Still can't walk up trees without falling on my face sometimes.
Skill Variety? Way too few.
Great if you're trying to confuse cats.
Not so great when you're fighting your best friend after he's been given some mysterious power by a Sage with absolutely no understanding of ethical boundaries.
I stared at the list.
Then added:
Decision Making?
I thought about everything that had happened during the last mission.
"...Needs work."
By the time I finished, I had a list long enough to qualify as a minor historical document.
But that was the thing, y'know?
I needed this.
I needed to know where I was weak.
Because if I forgot—if I laughed, smiled, ate something and pretended everything was fine like I usually did—I'd never improve.
And next time...
Next time somebody might actually die.
I tightened my grip around the pencil.
"I want to be as good at close combat as Akira," I muttered, watching the clouds drift below the tower. "Faster than Master Jin. Stronger than Lady Shiori. I want to learn hundreds of Arts. I want to be strong enough to fight a Sage someday."
I paused.
Then added:
"And win."
Dream big, right?
I probably looked ridiculous.
A thirteen-year-old black-haired ninja sitting at the top of the Tower of Trials, writing his own personal catalogue of failures while staring dramatically into the distance.
If someone had painted the scene, it might've looked inspiring.
Fortunately, nobody could see that I'd titled the second page:
MORE THINGS I SUCK AT
Then I heard someone land behind me.
I didn't turn.
"Ren."
Master Jin Sazanami's voice was unusually gentle.
That was terrifying.
Master Jin was many things.
Powerful.
Experienced.
Possibly insane.
Gentle was generally not on the list.
Usually when he approached me on a training day, the first thing I heard was something like:
"Dodge."
Then a rock came flying at my head.
I looked over my shoulder.
Master Jin stood behind me in his usual dark traveling robes, his long black-and-silver hair tied loosely behind him.
His arms were folded.
"Time to go."
My stomach tightened.
I knew this was coming.
We'd talked about it before.
Training outside the Sect.
Traveling across the eastern lands.
Meeting different clans and sects.
Learning new fighting styles.
Fighting spirit beasts.
Master Jin had promised that part enthusiastically.
Perhaps a little too enthusiastically.
"Already?" I asked.
"We've delayed long enough." His expression softened. "Say goodbye to your friends. Meet me at the western gate before sunset."
I looked back toward the clouds.
"How long are we leaving?"
"A few years."
Years.
That sounded different when someone actually said it.
Master Jin walked over and placed a hand on my shoulder.
Not heavy.
Just warm.
I didn't need him to say anything.
You've been through enough.
We'll fix this.
We'll make you stronger.
At least, that's what I imagined he meant.
Knowing Master Jin, he could've been thinking:
I wonder if throwing him off this tower would improve his reflexes.
Fifty-fifty.
I nodded.
Didn't trust my voice not to sound like a dying squeaky toy.
My eyes burned.
I blinked hard.
Don't cry.
Don't look back.
You have to get stronger.
So I packed.
First, I stopped at the little noodle shop near the southern training grounds.
Goro Takeda and his daughter Emi practically raised me on noodles, so obviously saying goodbye to them involved food.
Lots of food.
Goro tried to feed me twenty bowls.
I stopped at ten.
Not because I was full.
Because Emi threatened to hit me with a ladle if I threw up before leaving.
Instructor Seiji Amahara gave me a hug.
He immediately stepped back afterward and looked around to make sure nobody had seen it.
"I wasn't hugging you," he said.
"Sure."
"You lost your balance."
"While standing still?"
"Exactly."
I decided to let him keep what remained of his dignity.
Then I said goodbye to everyone else with a smile faker than a trainee's excuse for why his homework had mysteriously caught fire.
Eventually, I returned to my apartment.
For the last time.
It was small.
Cramped.
Smelled faintly of instant noodles, old clothes and whatever mysterious substance had been growing behind my cabinet for the last month.
But it was mine.
My bed.
My desk.
My training notes.
The little knife marks on the wall from when I'd first practiced throwing weapons indoors.
Instructor Seiji had been very clear about that afterward.
Apparently "I thought I could catch them" wasn't considered a valid defense.
I stood there longer than I meant to.
Then I picked up my bag.
"Okay."
New journey.
New Ren.
Stronger.
Smarter.
More mature.
I closed the door, slung my bag over my shoulder, and took one heroic step toward the stairs—
—and immediately tripped over my own foot, crashed down all six steps like a flailing idiot, and smashed the entire staircase into splinters.
My face met the ground like an old friend. The kind that never forgets your address or your pain threshold.
Then everything went white.
And I was gone.
-----------------------------------
POV: Kaito Hoshino
Currently in Ren's body
You ever wake up and feel like something's off?
Like your blanket's too small, your room smells weird, and your pillow has abs?
Yeah.
That was my morning.
Except multiply the weirdness by a hundred, throw in a terrifying hobo-uncle pouring water on my face like I was a dying cactus, add a massive headache, and you've basically got my situation.
I blinked awake.
Standing over me was a huge man with long black-and-silver hair, a scar running down one side of his face, and muscles that looked like they'd been imported directly from a professional wrestling league.
His dark robes were half-open at the chest, a sword hung from his waist, and he was muttering things like—
"Ki flow seems normal..."
"Seal isn't damaged..."
"No spatial residue..."
Naturally, my first reaction was calm and reasonable.
"WHAT THE HELL?! WHO ARE YOU?! WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM?!"
I flailed backward like a panicked pigeon.
Something immediately felt wrong.
My arms were too short.
My legs were too short.
My voice had cracked somewhere between terrified teenager and twelve-year-old being stepped on.
And my entire body just felt...
Wrong.
"Calm down!" the man said, raising both hands like he was somehow the victim here. "Ren, you're going to hurt yourself."
"WHO'S REN?!"
He froze.
I pointed at him.
"AND GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU THIEF!"
"This isn't your—"
I shoved him.
Or tried to.
He didn't move.
Not even slightly.
It was like trying to push a particularly judgmental mountain.
I scrambled away instead and finally looked around.
That's when the panic really started.
This wasn't my room.
Not my bed.
Not my posters.
Not my computer.
Not even my house.
The walls were wooden. Actual wooden walls. Scrolls sat on shelves. Strange symbols had been painted onto strips of paper hanging near the windows.
There was a rack filled with swords.
Actual swords.
And several throwing knives were stuck in a wooden training dummy in the corner.
I slowly turned toward the window.
Mountains.
Forests.
Old-fashioned buildings stretching across an enormous compound.
People jumping between rooftops.
I watched one guy land sideways against a wall—
—and then run across it.
I blinked.
He was still doing it.
"Nope."
I looked away.
"Nope, nope, nope."
Then I looked at the huge guy again.
Massive.
Scarred.
Wild hair.
Sword.
Definitely criminal.
Probably yakuza.
Had to be.
"What do you want?" I squeaked. "I have no money. Please don't hurt me. My family's broke. I'm not even good at sports!"
The man stared at me.
"Who are you?"
"I—"
My mouth suddenly went dry.
"Kaito."
His expression changed.
"Kaito?"
"Kaito Hoshino."
Silence.
He looked me over like he was reading the ingredients on the back of an instant-noodle packet and had just discovered something deeply concerning.
Then he muttered something under his breath.
"Soul technique?"
I had absolutely no idea what that meant.
But when a huge sword-carrying stranger looks at you and starts muttering about your soul, optimism becomes difficult.
"Kaito," he said slowly.
I appreciated that he'd stopped calling me Ren.
Small victories.
"My name is Jin Sazanami."
"Okay."
"I'm not going to hurt you."
"That's also exactly what someone planning to hurt me would say."
His eye twitched.
Good.
Maybe annoying him was a poor survival strategy.
Unfortunately, annoying people was one of my few natural talents.
Jin crouched down.
"Look at yourself."
"What?"
"Your hands."
I did.
And froze.
Those weren't my hands.
They were smaller.
Calloused.
Several tiny scars crossed the knuckles.
My breathing quickened.
"No."
Jin reached inside his robes and pulled out a small polished mirror.
From inside his clothes.
Just—
poof.
Magic hobo pocket.
He held it toward me.
I looked.
And nearly fainted.
Because staring back at me was definitely not Kaito Hoshino.
Soon-to-be high school student.
Average grades.
Below-average athletic ability.
Pervert extraordinaire.
Future Harem King.
Nope.
The mirror showed a thirteen-year-old boy.
Messy black hair.
Grey eyes.
A pale face.
Small scar through one eyebrow.
"...Is that me?" I whispered.
"That's Ren Kisaragi."
I touched my cheek.
The kid in the mirror touched his.
I pulled my eyelid down.
He copied me.
I opened my mouth.
So did he.
"Oh."
I lowered the mirror.
Then raised it again.
Maybe it had changed.
It had not.
"Oh no."
"Kaito—"
"OH NO."
"Kaito."
"What happened to my face?!"
"Calm down."
"I'M THIRTEEN!"
"Yes."
"I ALREADY DID THIRTEEN!"
Jin pinched the bridge of his nose.
Apparently, my suffering was giving him a headache.
Good.
Now there were two of us.
He sat across from me.
"Do you remember what happened?"
"I went to sleep."
"Anything unusual before that?"
"No!"
"Anything strange?"
"I brushed my teeth!"
He stared.
"I watched videos!"
Still staring.
"I went to bed!"
He waited.
"That's it!"
Jin frowned.
"So you simply went to sleep."
"Yes!"
"And woke up here."
"Yes!"
"In Ren's body."
I looked down again.
"...Apparently."
He became quiet.
Way too quiet.
I didn't like adult silence.
Adult silence usually meant one of two things:
We have a serious problem.
Or:
We're deciding how much of the serious problem to tell the child.
"So..."
I pointed at myself.
"Can you undo this?"
Jin didn't answer immediately.
That was bad.
That was really bad.
"There's someone I know," he finally said. "He specializes in the mind and soul. He may be able to determine what happened."
"May?"
"We need information first."
"That's not the same thing as fixing it."
"No."
My stomach dropped.
"Wait."
I stared at him.
"I'm stuck like this?"
"I didn't say that."
He wasn't making eye contact.
Which meant yes.
"Oh, come on!"
I grabbed my hair.
Ren's hair.
Whatever.
"This cannot be happening!"
Jin stood.
"We're going."
"Where?"
"To see my friend."
"I can walk."
Apparently, Jin disagreed.
Because he grabbed me around the waist and lifted me straight off the floor.
"HEY!"
He threw me over his shoulder.
Like a sack of rice.
"PUT ME DOWN!"
"No."
"I'M A PERSON!"
"You're also panicking."
"I HAVE A RIGHT TO PANIC!"
"You'll attract attention."
"THEN STOP CARRYING ME LIKE GROCERIES!"
He ignored me.
And that was how I found myself being carried out of the building by a giant sword-wielding muscle wizard while wearing somebody else's body.
This was not how I'd imagined my first isekai adventure.
The outside world was worse.
Or better.
I honestly couldn't decide.
The entire place looked like somebody had taken an ancient Japanese mountain village, given everyone superpowers, and then decided occupational health and safety was for cowards.
People jumped between rooftops.
Ninja ran along walls.
Actual walls.
Like gravity was more of a suggestion than a law.
Men and women carried swords.
Kids younger than me threw knives at targets.
One girl leapt from a three-story building, flipped twice in the air, landed perfectly, then continued walking like she'd just stepped off a curb.
I stared at her.
"Did you see that?"
"See what?" Jin asked.
"She jumped off a building!"
"Yes."
"She could've died!"
"No."
"How do you know?!"
"Because she knows how to land."
I stared at the back of his head.
Apparently physics had surrendered centuries ago.
Then I saw something even stranger.
A dog walked past us.
Wearing a little black combat vest.
I twisted around on Jin's shoulder.
The dog looked at me.
I looked at the dog.
Dog. Wearing. A. Vest.
The dog barked.
I pointed at it.
"Why is the dog dressed better than me?"
Jin kept walking.
I looked around again.
People kept glancing at us.
Some whispered.
Others openly stared.
A few younger kids pointed.
Apparently Ren was important.
Or maybe seeing him carried around like laundry wasn't normal.
My inner nerd should have been celebrating.
This was it!
Another world!
Ninjas!
Superpowers!
Magic!
This was literally the kind of thing I'd read about a hundred times.
Except those stories had lied to me.
They had all lied.
Where was my cheat ability?
Where was the beautiful princess apologizing for accidentally killing me?
Where was my legendary weapon?
Where was the floating status screen telling me I had 9999 Strength?
Most importantly—
where was my welcoming committee of beautiful women?
No.
I got kidnapped by a muscle wizard.
Put inside a thirteen-year-old's body.
And possibly stranded in another dimension.
Those novels owed me a refund.
My new body suddenly burped.
Loudly.
Several people looked over.
I closed my eyes.
Perfect.
Jin glanced back at me.
"You alright?"
"...Can I cry now?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"We're almost there."
I sighed and let my arms hang limply.
"Fine."
And so began the worst field trip of my life.