Shin'ya continued walking.
He wasn't really sure where he was going anymore.
At this point, he was simply moving.
The streets around him slowly became more familiar with every step, yet somehow, every familiar sight made the strange reality around him feel even more surreal.
A convenience store on the corner.
A vending machine beside a telephone pole.
A bicycle leaning against a fence.
Everything looked ordinary.
Almost painfully so.
Shin'ya shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his gray hoodie.
"...I wonder how long I can keep walking without actually knowing where I'm going."
His stomach answered for him.
Grrrrr...
Shin'ya stopped.
"..."
He slowly looked down.
"...Oh."
Another rumble came from his stomach.
"...Right."
He had been so occupied with the whole alternate-world-existential-crisis thing that he'd completely forgotten about something considerably more important.
Food.
"Yeah."
He patted his stomach.
"We should probably deal with that."
Shin'ya began searching through his pockets.
Nothing.
Left pocket.
Nothing.
Right pocket.
Still nothing.
He checked the back pocket again, just in case his first search had somehow been incompetent.
"...Come on."
His fingers finally brushed against something.
He pulled it out.
A small, horribly crumpled piece of paper.
Shin'ya stared at it.
Slowly, his eyes widened.
"...No way."
He carefully unfolded it.
A familiar number appeared across the wrinkled bill.
¥1,000.
Shin'ya stared at the note for several seconds.
Then—
"...You're still here?"
He turned the note over.
It was definitely real.
And somehow, after everything that had happened...
He still had it.
"How did I even keep this?"
He couldn't remember exactly when he'd put it in his pocket.
Maybe it had been there before the last battle.
Maybe he'd forgotten about it entirely.
Either way...
It was money.
And more importantly—
It was his money.
A tiny grin appeared on his face.
"Okay."
"That's actually pretty convenient."
The note immediately curled back into its original crumpled shape.
Shin'ya frowned.
"...No."
He raised one leg, bringing his thigh almost level with his hip, and pressed the note against it.
Using his palm, he carefully smoothed the wrinkled paper against the improvised flat surface.
"There."
He lowered his leg.
The note was still slightly bent, but at least it looked like currency again instead of something that had survived a natural disaster.
Shin'ya held it up.
"...A thousand yen."
He stared at it thoughtfully.
"Honestly..."
A small smile returned.
"I'll take it."
He slipped the note safely into his pocket.
His stomach growled again.
"...Yeah, yeah."
"I'm going."
Shin'ya looked around the unfamiliar streets.
Somewhere nearby, there had to be a convenience store.
Or a restaurant.
Or literally anything selling food.
He started walking again.
____
Shin'ya continued walking.
He finally stopped moving.
He knew it had to be around here.
He glanced around.
Luckily, he didn't have to search for long.
A familiar green-and-white sign caught his attention from across the street.
A convenience store.
Shin'ya's eyes immediately brightened.
"...Perfect."
He crossed the street and pushed open the automatic doors.
Ding-dong.
The familiar electronic chime almost made him stop walking.
"...Wow."
He looked around.
The shelves were packed with neatly arranged snacks, drinks, instant meals, bread, rice balls, and various other foods.
For a moment, Shin'ya simply stood there.
It was such a ridiculously ordinary sight.
And somehow...
That made it comforting.
"Okay."
"Food."
He grabbed a basket.
Then began walking through the aisles.
He picked up a tuna-mayonnaise onigiri.
Then a salmon onigiri.
Then a bottle of cold tea.
He stopped in front of the hot-food section.
"...Hmm."
His eyes moved across the options.
Karaage.
"...Absolutely."
He grabbed a small pack.
Then he noticed a cup of instant ramen.
He stared at it.
The ramen stared back.
"...You're coming with me."
Into the basket.
By the time he reached the register, he'd accumulated:
- Two onigiri — ¥260 each.
- A small pack of karaage — ¥320.
- A bottle of green tea — ¥150.
- A cup of instant ramen — ¥110.
Shin'ya looked at the total on the register.
¥1,100.
He froze.
Slowly, he reached into his pocket.
The crumpled ¥1,000 note emerged.
"..."
He stared at it.
Then at the food.
Then back at the note.
"...Right."
He reluctantly put the instant ramen back.
The cashier scanned the remaining items.
¥990.
Shin'ya handed over the ¥1,000 note.
The cashier gave him ¥10 in change.
Shin'ya stared at the tiny coin in his palm.
"...I've got ten yen left."
He slipped it into his pocket.
"Financial stability."
He picked up the plastic bag.
"Secured."
The cashier gave him a polite smile.
"Thank you very much."
Shin'ya nodded.
"Thanks."
He stepped outside.
Ding-dong.
The automatic doors closed behind him.
He looked down at the bag.
"...Okay."
"That was worth almost my entire fortune."
He smiled.
"But I'm alive."
His stomach rumbled again.
"...Barely."
---
Shin'ya didn't go far.
There was a small park nearby.
He recognized it almost immediately.
The same green benches.
The same playground.
The same trees lining the walking path.
He walked toward the bench tucked slightly away from the main road.
Perfect.
Quiet enough.
He sat down.
Before opening the bag, Shin'ya glanced around.
People were scattered throughout the park.
A few children were playing.
An elderly man was reading a newspaper.
A woman was walking her dog.
Nobody was paying attention to him.
Good.
Shin'ya reached down and adjusted the Ketsugai beneath his hoodie.
The dark blade was positioned so that the bench's backrest concealed most of it from anyone walking past.
If someone somehow noticed it...
Well.
His hand was already close enough to the hilt.
One movement.
Shadow Storage.
Gone.
"...Perfect."
He opened the bag.
And immediately forgot about everything else.
"Finally."
He grabbed the first onigiri.
One bite.
Two.
Three.
Gone.
"..."
Shin'ya stared at the empty wrapper.
"...That disappeared suspiciously fast."
He grabbed the second one.
Gone.
Then the karaage.
Gone.
He took a long drink of green tea.
"..."
He leaned back.
"...Heaven."
For the first time since arriving in this strange world, Shin'ya wasn't thinking about the battlefield.
He wasn't thinking about his mother.
He wasn't thinking about the fact that he didn't exist here.
He wasn't thinking about why this world was so familiar.
He was just eating.
And honestly?
That was enough.
Once he finished, Shin'ya gathered the wrappers and empty bottle into the plastic bag.
He stood.
Walked over to a nearby trash can.
And tossed everything inside.
"...There."
He stretched.
"Much better."
Then he continued walking.
---
The afternoon sun had begun to lower slightly by the time Shin'ya left the park.
He walked along a quieter street, hands tucked into his hoodie pockets.
His mind was finally starting to settle.
Maybe this world wasn't something he needed to understand immediately.
Maybe he could simply explore.
Figure things out.
Eventually find somewhere safe.
And then—
Something caught his eye.
A poster.
It had been attached to a utility pole beside the sidewalk.
Shin'ya slowed.
There was a photograph printed near the top.
A teenage boy.
Dark hair.
A school uniform.
A familiar face.
Shin'ya stopped completely.
"...Wait."
He stepped closer.
His eyes narrowed.
"No way."
He stared at the photograph.
"I know him."
His finger hovered near the picture without touching it.
"...Isn't he—"
He read the name beneath the photograph.
His expression changed.
"...Yeah."
It was him.
Someone he'd seen before.
Someone from the school.
Someone who had existed in his memories.
Shin'ya's eyes moved lower.
MISSING
Then he noticed the date.
His eyebrows slowly rose.
"...Huh?"
He read it again.
Then again.
"Wait."
"When was this?"
Shin'ya stared at the date.
A small realization hit him.
"...I don't actually know what day it is."
He rubbed his forehead.
"Great."
"Fantastic."
"Apparently I forgot to keep track of time while getting thrown through worlds."
He looked back at the poster.
Six months ago.
"...Six months?"
His expression became thoughtful.
"Okay."
He folded his arms.
"I know for sure it hasn't been that long since I first ended up in Yuki's world."
He paused.
"At most..."
"...A month?"
Shin'ya frowned.
"Maybe less."
He looked back at the poster.
"So if this happened six months ago..."
He slowly scratched his chin.
"Do I remember anything unusual from six months ago?"
Silence.
He searched through his memories.
School.
Homework.
Exams.
Normal days.
Normal conversations.
Normal mornings.
Normal evenings.
Nothing.
"...Hmm."
He closed his eyes.
"Think."
Six months ago.
What had happened?
He remembered going to school.
He remembered eating with his family.
He remembered complaining about homework.
He remembered playing games.
He remembered sleeping.
Normal things.
Nothing that involved a missing student.
Nothing that explained why this boy had disappeared.
Shin'ya opened his eyes.
"...No."
He looked at the poster again.
"It's close."
"But..."
His expression slowly hardened.
"It's not close enough."
He stared at the photograph.
This world had the same town.
The same school.
The same people.
The same technology.
Even people he'd personally recognized existed here.
But their circumstances were different.
The timeline was different.
Events were different.
And most importantly...
He was different.
Shin'ya slowly stepped away from the poster.
"So this isn't exactly my world."
He looked up at the sky.
"...It's something else."
A faint breeze moved through the street.
The missing-person poster fluttered against the pole behind him.
Shin'ya shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.
His expression became thoughtful.
"Same pieces..."
"...Different arrangement."
He stopped.
A familiar phrase surfaced in his mind.
The last piece of the puzzle.
Except...
This time, he wasn't sure whether the problem was the missing piece.
Maybe the problem was that the entire puzzle had been assembled differently.
Shin'ya glanced back at the poster one final time.
"...Okay."
His eyes narrowed.
"Now I'm curious."
And for the first time since arriving in this world...
He stopped thinking of it as home.
He started thinking of it as a mystery.