The rain wouldn't stop.
The kind that made everything feel heavier soaking through walls, dripping into silence, and turning thoughts into mud.
Inside a box-sized Tokyo apartment, Riku Yamato sat cross-legged on the cold floor, his back slumped against a dusty couch. A half-eaten convenience store bento sat forgotten beside him. In his hand: a warm can of peach chu-hi.
His shirt was still wrinkled and stained from soy sauce the same button-down he'd worn to yet another failed teacher certification exam earlier that morning. He hadn't even bothered to change out of it.
On the TV, a rerun of an old quiz show flickered. A contestant buzzed in too early and yelled, "Mount Everest!" to a question about dinosaurs. The audience roared with laughter. The host made a face.
Riku didn't.
He raised the can, took a long sip, Flat, Sweet, Metallic. Not even the buzz was satisfying anymore.
"…I studied so hard," he muttered.
No one answered.
"No matter what I do… I always end up here. Failing."
His phone buzzed. Rent reminder. He didn't bother checking the rest.
No calls. No encouragement texts. No parents to worry. No friends to laugh at him. Just silence.
For the third year in a row, he'd failed the National Teacher Certification Exam. This time, by two points. Just two. But a fail was a fail.
"Twenty-four years old," he said, lifting his can in a mock toast. "Part-time job selling instant noodles to drunk salarymen, and a dream that's more useless than a fax machine in 2025."
He tried to laugh. It came out as a cough.
"All I wanted was to be a teacher. Even that was too much to ask, huh, heaven?"
He took another sip something caught in his throat. He coughed once, Twice then Harder.
And then his throat closed.
His eyes went wide the can slipped from his grip, clattering across the floor. His body convulsed, knocking over the coffee table. His lungs screamed for air that wouldn't come.
Static filled his ears. His vision swam.
One more breath. Just one—!
Darkness claimed him before he hit the floor.
No heroic last words. No tragic flashbacks. Just Riku Yamato dead, choking on warm peach chu-hi, alone in a city that had already forgotten him.
…But death, apparently, had a sense of humor.
The first thing he felt was cold.
Not the normal kind. This was the kind that stabbed through bone, freezing muscle and soul alike.
He jolted upright coughing, gasping, alive.
Blinding pale light stabbed his eyes he blinked. Around him lay the shattered remains of a cryo-chamber glass shards, twisted steel, and a pool of icy water steaming beneath a body that isn't his.
He wasn't in Tokyo.
He wasn't even on Earth. He ask where am i? A voice in his head.
[Host, confirmation: You died choking on chu-hi. You are now reincarnated on Planet Kurasu-9.]
"…Hah?"
[Kurasu-9.]
"…Nope. Don't believe it."
[Would you like proof?]
"What kind of—"
CHOMP!
"OWW! WHAT THE—?!"
[Pain simulation bite, 30% output. Confirmed. Host feels pain. Therefore, not a dream.]
"You BIT me?!"
[Correction: simulated bite. Efficient, effective.]
"You sadistic voice-in-my-head!"
[You're welcome.]
Before he could argue further, text burned across his vision.
[Vital signs unstable. Recommend immediate movement. Task initiated: Locate shelter before nightfall.]
"…Wait. Nightfall? Already?!"
[Estimated time remaining: 3 hours, 42 minutes.]
A glowing blue arrow appeared in midair, pointing northwest.
[Nearest Shelter: 2.3 kilometers. Structure scan complete. Category: Educational facility. Status: Derelict.]
"…A school?"
[Correct.]
He didn't get it. But with no better options, Riku staggered to his feet, legs still half-numb from the cryo-freeze.
"Fine. Lead the way, weird floating arrow. Not like I've got choices."
The world around him was ruins. Tower skeletons half-swallowed by vines. Roads split open, moss flooding the cracks. The sky burned a fading gold, three moons already peeking through.
Every step was misery. His shoes slipped on wet stone. He tripped over rusted signs warning "No Entry." He scraped his knees, cursed under his breath. Birds with glowing wings darted overhead, shadows long across collapsed buildings.
At one point, he swore a squirrel-sized mushroom waved at him.
He wisely chose not to wave back.
"System… there are people here, right?"
[No lifeforms detected within a 20-kilometer radius.]
"…Eh?"
[Correction: no human lifeforms. Civilization collapsed approximately 241 years ago.]
The words hit harder than the fall he'd taken earlier.
An empty world. No people. No civilization. No second chances… except the one standing on borrowed legs.
He stumbled past a rusted bus, its windows shattered, ivy curling through the seats. A sign half-buried in rubble read:
KURASU CITY EDUCATION DISTRICT – Where the Future Learns.
The slogan mocked him.
[You are currently within the outskirts of the Kurasu-9 Multilevel Education Complex. Designed to teach ages 4–22. Once the most advanced learning network in the galaxy.]
"…And now it's dead."
[Final system log: We taught knowledge, but not compassion. We remembered systems, but forgot humanity.]
That sentence hit him like a punch.
He'd failed his own society. This one had failed too. And now what? It was his turn?
"Why me?" he whispered. "Why a guy who failed the teaching exam three times?"
[Because you were the only one who kept trying. This is your second chance. Do you not remember your final words before choking?]
He froze. He did remember. Whispering to the dark ceiling of his apartment:
"All I wanted was to be a teacher…"
[Correct. And now, you are.]
"…Wait. You're…?"
[I am the TEACHER SYSTEM.]
He laughed. Bitter, broken. "So this is my punishment, huh? Or maybe… my last chance."
After an hour of limping across moss-choked ruins, he finally saw it: a half-collapsed building, stone walls strangled with golden vines, a leaning bell tower ready to fall.
[Shelter reached. Task complete. Reward: 1 Knowledge Token, 1 Mystery Seed.]
A small pouch materialized in his hand. It squirmed faintly.
"…Please don't tell me this is food."
[Companion Seed. Potential ally. Strongly discouraged to eat.]
He stuffed it into his coat. "Fine. But if I starve, I am blaming you."
He pushed open the iron gates, the school looming above. The doors groaned as he entered. Dust rose. Broken desks, torn posters, chalk smell still clinging beneath rot.
Somehow, it felt… right.
Riku slumped against a desk, chest heaving. He didn't cry. He didn't laugh. He just sat in silence.
Then, a breeze rattled the windows. A faded banner unfurled across the wall.
WELCOME TEACHER.
Riku let out a shaky laugh. "Of course. Of course it's a school."
[You are not alone, Teacher.]
And for the first time in his lives, he wanted to believe it.