WebNovels

Chapter 4 - No matter what world I'm in...it'll always be the same

As sunlight pierced through the window, Tadashi stirred from his sleep with a long

 yawn. His eyes snapped open as realization hit him.

 "Wait... does that mean... I finally survived day 1?" He scanned himself, hardly

 believing he'd made it through an entire day. The morning light painted his small room

 in gentle gold, making everything seem a little less hostile.

 "Maybe this world isn't so bad after all," he thought, preparing his morning coffee. The

 familiar aroma filled his apartment, a small comfort in this strange new reality.

 As he went through his morning routine, his mind wandered to Ayano. A classmate who

 actually spoke to him – it seemed too good to be true. In his previous life, such kindness

 had been rare.

 Walking to school, memories of his past life flooded back. He was the second son of the

 famous Tadashi Family, founders of Tadashi Corporation. With 104 branches

 worldwide and a 7.8 trillion Yen net worth, the family wielded immense power and

 influence.

 But wealth couldn't prevent family drama. His father, Sudo, the first-born son and future

 CEO, had fallen in love with a common girl. The family opposed their marriage, but

 Sudo went ahead anyway. When Murata was born, the family saw him as living proof of

 their heir's defiance. They called him "the commoner's child," treating him as an

 outsider in his own home.

 On his 18th birthday, they kicked him out. Only his father's modest allowance and a

 part-time job kept him afloat in his small apartment. The betrayal had left deep scars,

 making it impossible to trust others.

 "Tadashi!" A familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts. Ayano waved from outside a

 convenience store, a gentle smile on her face. She held two cans of coffee. "I got here

 early and thought you might pass by."

 "Oh... you didn't have to," Tadashi said, accepting the coffee with hesitation. The can

 was still warm.

 They walked together, Ayano filling the silence with light conversation. She talked

 about her own struggles as a transfer student last year, how lonely it had felt at first.

 "Sometimes I think people here wear masks," she said, her voice taking on a thoughtful

 tone. "Everyone's so focused on appearing perfect, they forget how to be real."

 Tadashi nodded, surprised by her insight. "It's easier to keep people at a distance," he

 admitted.

"Is that what you do, Tadashi?" Her question felt heavy with meaning.

 Before he could respond, she stopped walking. They had reached a quiet stretch of

 road, cherry blossom petals drifting around them like snow.

 "You know," Ayano's voice changed, becoming hollow, "I've been watching you. The

 way you hold yourself apart, how you flinch from kindness... you're just like them.

 Living behind a mask, expecting the world to hurt you."

 Tadashi turned, confusion turning to horror as he saw the knife in her hand. The coffee

 can slipped from his grip, spilling across the pavement.

 "I hate people like you most of all," she whispered, driving the blade into his chest.

 "Playing the victim, while never letting anyone close enough to help."

 "AAAHHHHH... IT HURTS... IT HUUUURRRTTS!" Tadashi screamed, blood

 spreading across his shirt. He collapsed, hands pressed against the wound.

 Ayano stood over him, her gentle smile twisted into something cruel. "You know what's

 funny, Tadashi? I actually meant what I said about the masks. We're all wearing them. I

 just happen to wear mine better than most."

 She wiped the knife on her uniform skirt, the dark fabric hiding the stain. "I wanted to

 give you a quick death, but watching you suffer... it's fitting for someone who refuses to

 truly live."

 As she walked away, Tadashi's fist struck the ground. Tears mixed with blood on the

 pavement. "My first friend?... yeah right... as if that would ever happen!"

 His vision began to fade, darkness creeping in at the edges. "No matter what world I'm

 in... it's always the same," he whispered, his last words lost among the falling cherry

 blossoms.

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