I peeled one eye open, instantly regretting it as a sliver of sunlight stabbed through the gap in my blackout curtains. What time was it? The glowing numbers on my alarm clock read 12:17. Shit. Not that I had anywhere to be, but half the day was already gone.
My phone buzzed somewhere beneath my mountain of blankets. I fished it out, squinting at the screen's harsh glow in my dark cave of a bedroom. Six Discord notifications, two game update alerts, and a Reddit thread someone had tagged me in about the latest episode of "Demon Slayer."
"Important stuff first," I mumbled to no one, opening the meme my friend Kris had sent—a stupid joke about gacha game rates that made me snort. I scrolled through the rest while burrowing deeper into my blanket nest, the blue light from my dual monitors across the room providing the only real illumination.
I finally dragged myself upright, kicking aside an empty energy drink can. My room looked like a typhoon had hit a GameStop. Three different consoles were tangled in a nest of cables beneath my TV, plushies from various anime series watched judgmentally from my shelves, and at least four cups of half-finished instant ramen had formed a small city on my desk. A stack of Amazon packages sat unopened in the corner—probably the figurines I'd ordered last week.
Whatever. I'd clean later. Maybe.
The bathroom mirror revealed the expected disaster—hair sticking up in seventeen different directions and dark circles under my eyes from last night's raid. I brushed my teeth with minimal effort, splashed some water on my face, and called it good enough.
Back in my room, I grabbed the first clean clothes I found—an oversized hoodie with a faded logo from some gaming convention and a pair of basketball shorts. Fashion icon? Not today.
I plopped into my gaming chair, wiggled the mouse to wake my PC, and launched my MMO. My character loaded in—a dual-wielding demon girl with ridiculous pink-and-gold armor that offered zero practical protection but looked awesome. I'd spent more time perfecting her appearance than I had on my actual college applications.
"Look who finally crawled out of her coffin," came Dev's voice through my headset the moment I joined the voice channel.
"Bite me. Some of us need beauty sleep."
"More like you were up until 4 AM watching anime again," Maya chimed in.
"Are we gonna talk or are we gonna kill this dragon?" I cracked my knuckles, already selecting my loadout. "I crafted those explosive potions last night, by the way. You're welcome."
Twenty minutes later, I was half-standing in my chair, frantically mashing keys.
"HEAL ME, YOU USELESS POTATO! I'M CARRYING THIS ENTIRE TEAM!"
We wiped. Again.
After our third raid wipe, Dev called for a break. "Let's regroup in twenty. I need to fix my build anyway."
"Yeah, I'll be—" My stomach let out a growl so loud I was pretty sure my microphone picked it up. "Damn, I think my organs are eating each other."
"When's the last time you ate actual food, Yuna?" Maya asked, her mom-friend energy radiating through Discord.
I stared at the ceiling, calculating. "Define 'actual food'..."
"Not energy drinks or gummy bears."
"Then I plead the fifth." I stretched, my back cracking in three different places. "Gonna grab something. Don't start without me."
I disconnected and shuffled to my kitchen, opening the fridge with hope that defied all previous experience.
The barren wasteland greeted me—one bottle of soy sauce, half a lemon turning to stone, and something in a takeout container I was too afraid to investigate. The freezer offered nothing but ice and freezer burn.
My emergency snack drawer yielded a single, sad Pocky stick. I ate it in two bites, which only made my stomach angrier.
"Why must the real world have hunger mechanics?" I groaned, sliding dramatically down the refrigerator door to the floor. "Character creation should've included the 'doesn't need to eat' trait."
I trudged back to my PC to break the news to my party.
"Need to make a supply run. My inventory is completely empty."
"Holy shit, she's going outside!" Dev gasped with fake shock. "Someone check if hell froze over."
"Ha ha. I'll BRB for snacks. Start without me and I'll haunt your Steam library."
I reluctantly changed out of my shorts into actual jeans that hadn't been part of my floor decor for the past week. The hoodie could stay—it was oversized enough to be fashionable in that "I'm not trying but actually I am" way.
I pulled my hair into a messy bun, grabbed my canvas bag with the pixelated heart design, and shoved my wireless earbuds into my ears.
The apartment door creaked open like I was breaking a seal. The hallway light assaulted my eyes.
"The cursed daystar burns us," I hissed, squinting as I locked my door.
Outside was worse. Actual sunlight. I pulled up my hood and scrolled through my playlist, settling on the "Attack on Titan" opening as I began my journey. In my head, I narrated: Side quest activated: Snack Resupply. Objective: Return with provisions without excessive human interaction. Difficulty: Moderate.
The walk to the convenience store took me past rows of pristine houses with manicured lawns and luxury cars parked in driveways. My neighborhood was technically "upper-class," though my tiny one-bedroom apartment was the cheapest unit in the building. I'd picked it because it was close to the gaming cafe and had decent internet speeds.
A group of middle schoolers in matching uniforms passed me, laughing about something on one kid's phone. They moved in a tight cluster, their backpacks bobbing as they walked. None of them noticed me.
Two streets down, a couple sat at an outdoor cafe, holding hands across a tiny table. The woman laughed at something her partner said, her head tilting back slightly. The man leaned forward, eyes fixed on her like she was the only person in the world.
A salaryman rushed past, his shoes clicking against the pavement, one hand clutching a briefcase while the other pressed a phone to his ear. "I'll be there in ten minutes," he promised someone on the other end.
I adjusted my earbuds, turning up the volume. All these people moved through their routines like they had purpose, like they belonged. I was just passing through their world.
"They're all NPCs," I muttered under my breath. "I must be in the wrong game."
A small park appeared on my left—just a patch of grass with a few benches and some trees. I veered off course and dropped onto an empty bench, my legs suddenly heavy.
A cluster of pigeons fought over what looked like half a sandwich someone had dropped. The birds pecked and flapped, completely invested in their tiny war.
I pulled out my phone and swiped through my gallery until I found it—a photo I rarely looked at but never deleted. Me at seven years old, standing between my parents at Tokyo Disneyland.
Dad wearing Mickey ears. Mom with her arm around my shoulders. Me with a chocolate-smeared smile and a Minnie plushie clutched to my chest.
My thumb hovered over their faces. I didn't cry. I hadn't in years. But something in my chest tightened.
"They'd probably hate that I live like this," I thought, looking around at the empty park, then back at my phone. "But it's peaceful. That's all I really wanted."
I dragged myself back to my feet, tucking the photo away and redirecting my course toward the convenience store. The automatic doors slid open with a cheerful electronic chime that felt way too perky for my current mood.
Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as I grabbed a shopping basket. My stomach growled again, reminding me of my mission.
"Right. Food." I mumbled, heading straight for the snack aisle.
I tossed in three bags of spicy shrimp chips, some chocolate-covered Pocky, a family-sized bag of gummy bears, and whatever else caught my eye. The basket grew heavier with each addition.
Cup ramen in three different flavors joined the pile—the fancy kind with actual freeze-dried vegetables, not the bargain stuff.
I swung by the refrigerated section and grabbed four energy drinks in different colors. Blue for focus, red for all-nighters, and that weird green one that tasted like battery acid but somehow kept me awake for twelve hours straight.
The cashier—a bored-looking guy around my age he raised his eyebrows as I dumped my haul onto the counter.
"Having a party?" he asked, scanning the items with practiced efficiency.
"Just restocking." I kept my eyes fixed on the payment terminal, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.
The total flashed on the screen I pulled out my wallet and slid out the matte black card my parents' estate manager had given me years ago.
he paused mid-scan, looking from the card to me and back again. The black card wasn't flashy, but anyone who knew anything recognized what it meant.
"Um... do you need ID with that?" he asked, suddenly more attentive.
"No. It's fine." I tapped the card on the reader, keeping my face neutral as the payment went through instantly.
He bagged everything with newfound care, like my snacks had suddenly become precious artifacts. "Have a nice day, miss."
I nodded, grabbing my overstuffed bags and hurried out, feeling his curious gaze follow me.
Outside, I adjusted my earbuds and pulled out my phone. My gaming group chat was blowing up with strategy discussions for our next raid attempt.
The weight of my snack-filled bags swung at my sides as I stepped off the curb, mind already back in the game world. Dev was going on about optimal gear loadouts in the group chat. I thumbed a quick reply, promising to be back online in fifteen minutes with my inventory fully stocked.
A sharp blast cut through my music.
I looked up from my phone, time suddenly stretching like taffy. A white delivery truck barreled toward me, driver's panicked face visible through the windshield. The brakes squealed, but physics had already decided this outcome.
Oh. So this is it?
My brain spun through the most ridiculous thoughts as the truck closed the distance. Not my life flashing before my eyes—just stupid, mundane concerns.
I didn't even get to finish that boss fight...
The truck was maybe ten feet away now. The driver's mouth opened in a shout I couldn't hear through my music.
The world tilted sideways. My snacks scattered across the pavement in slow motion, colorful packages tumbling through the air like confetti. The music in my earbuds still played—the dramatic Attack on Titan theme a fitting soundtrack for my final moment.
Impact.
Darkness rushed in from all sides like water filling a sinking ship. No pain registered. Just a strange, distant sensation of... fading.
My phone clattered to the ground beside me, screen spiderwebbing with cracks. The last thing I saw was a Discord notification lighting up the broken display.
I'm only sixteen, I thought as consciousness slipped away. Sixteen and I never did anything with my life.
All that inheritance money from my parents' accident, all those opportunities I never took. I'd spent my days in a dark room, hiding from the world instead of living in it. Now I'd never get the chance.
I wish I had more time...
The darkness deepened, consciousness unraveling like a loose thread being pulled.
I should have...