It's been 15 years since my reincarnation. Now, it's the year 2001.
In my past life, my name was John Doe. Now, I go by Sato Kenji. I died in an accident—the details are hazy. All I remember is that I died alone. No friends. No family. Still, in a strange way… I was content back then, even with nothing.
When I was reborn, there were no messages, no explanations—just a second chance. At first, I was confused. But I accepted it quickly.
For the first time in both my lives, I had parents. A real family. In my previous life, I was an orphan—unseen and unheard. And while I'd made peace with that solitude, this new life was different. Brighter. Warmer. I was genuinely happy. I loved my parents. I was proud to be their son. I felt like I belonged.
But then… everything changed.
When I was 14, we went on a family trip to celebrate my graduation from Mashiba Junior High. I was supposed to start high school with a smile. Instead, a truck came out of nowhere.
I woke up in the hospital. The doctor told me I was lucky. I'd been sitting in the back seat, so I survived the impact. But my parents… they didn't make it.
They called it an accident. The truck malfunctioned.
Some people came to visit. They tried to comfort me. I didn't respond. I just sat there, numb.
Then I overheard something: the truck driver had survived. He was in the same hospital. Unconscious.
I lost it.
I tore out of my room and went straight for his. People tried to stop me. I shoved past them, blinded by rage. I burst into his room, fully intent on killing him—until a small boy stepped between us.
His son.
Tears streamed down his face as he looked up at me and whispered, "Please… don't hurt my father."
And just like that—I stopped. I froze. Then I turned and left without a word. I walked home on foot.
They were my first true family. And I lost them.
I received financial compensation for the accident, but I couldn't care less. No amount of money could bring them back. I thought about ending my life—but I didn't. I decided I'd get through it. Somehow. And to make sure I never felt that pain again… I resolved to care for no one but myself.
Eventually, I started to move on.
I still stayed in the house. I refused to sell it or living in anywhere else. Someone once offered to adopt me, but I turned them down. I was old enough to take care of myself—and I wasn't leaving this home. It's filled with memories I'm not ready to let go of.
I supported myself with part-time jobs. I had the money from the settlement, but I knew it wouldn't last forever.
Eventually, the truck driver came to see me. He knelt, crying, and apologized.
I wanted to hate him. I should've hated him. But when I saw the guilt in his eyes… I couldn't. I gave up on that anger. I knew it was an accident. He had a family too. And deep down, I knew—my parents wouldn't have wanted me to be consumed by hatred.
If I had been in his position… maybe I would've apologized too.
I didn't forgive him. But I let it go.
I told him to leave and never come back. He nodded, apologized one last time, and disappeared from my life.
Since then, I've been living alone. I smoked. I drank. It dulled the pain more than it solved it. But it was better than drowning in endless grief.
Time passed. Again.
Now I'm 15, and I've finally begun to truly move on. I've stopped drinking and smoking. I've cut myself off emotionally from others. I've promised myself: I won't care about anyone again. Not like before.
And if that promise ever breaks… I don't know what I'll do.
Still, the present is better now. I've found a rhythm.
I attend Karakura High School. I never planned to—I was already busy with work and life. But my parents had applied for me before they died… and skipping it felt like betraying their last wish.
So I go. I've been attending for a while now—though I haven't made any friends. I don't plan to, either.
Oh, by the way—I have a superpower. But it's useless. All it does is let me see ghosts. If only I had a real power—something that could actually help—I might've been able to prevent what happened to my parents.
I see plenty of ghosts, though. Most of them don't cause any trouble, so I just ignore them. I don't talk to them. I pretend I can't see them.
What I really want… is to see my parents again—even just once, even as ghosts. But I've never seen them. Not even a glimpse. What the hell...?
I want to meet them, talk to them, just one last time. Where did they go? Maybe they've already passed on to the afterlife… maybe to heaven. Maybe that's for the best.
Because there are monsters out there—creatures that can attack ghosts, and humans too. I've seen it happen while hiding. Somehow, I've always managed to go unnoticed—either I've been incredibly lucky, or those monsters are just too stupid to notice me. Like ghosts, they can't be seen by normal humans without special powers. Maybe that's for the better.
Sometimes, I have this disturbing thought—maybe one of those monsters already got to my parents. But I push that idea away. If I start thinking like that, I know my mind will break. I have to stay positive. I have to believe they're somewhere peaceful… not gone like that.
Those monsters—they have strange faces, or wear weird masks. I avoid them whenever I can. Even if I trained and bulked up, I don't think I could ever beat one. If only I could awaken some kind of real power—something that could let me fight back.
Sigh. For now, all I can do is keep my head down, live quietly, and stay out of their way.
I just hope nothing worse happens than this.
…Though maybe that's just wishful thinking.
....
Time passed, and life settled into a routine.
Every day, I went to school wearing my MP3 player, earphones in, lost in my own world. School itself was normal—nothing special. After classes, I'd head straight home to eat, take a quick shower, then head out again for my part-time jobs. I worked multiple shifts, and thankfully, the owners were generous. I usually got home late at night.
Living alone was fine—I could manage everything myself, from cleaning and cooking.
Well, until one day, something bad happened—not to me, but to someone else. I was walking to school when I heard what sounded like an explosion. Civilians were running around in panic, so I stopped and watched from a safe distance. That's when I saw it—a giant monster.
But strangely, no one was shouting, "It's a monster!" well of course because they couldn't see it. They were only running from the explosion and the destruction it caused, unaware that a monster was behind it all. The creature was chasing someone—Ichigo, one of my classmates, and a ghost girl. I call her that because she looked half-transparent, like she was slowly fading away.
As for me? I did nothing. Just stayed hidden and watched. I didn't want to get involved like always.
I know Ichigo, sure—we go to the same school, and we've been in the same classes since we were kids. But we're not friends. We don't talk much, and honestly, I never really cared.
His father owns a clinic, which I visit sometimes since it's the closest to my house. His sisters are often there too, helping out when they feel like it. Their names? Ichigo's father is Isshin. His sisters are Yuzu and Karin, and his mother was named Masaki. I know their names because they introduced themselves to me—or I overheard them talking to each other. Simple as that.
When I visit the clinic, I go in, buy what I need, and leave. I don't waste time, and I don't talk to them either.
And about Ichigo's mother, Masaki…
He lost her when he was eight. And the truth is—I know exactly what happened to her.
Why? Because I saw everything, from start to finish.
Surprised? Yeah… I was there.
It happened near the Karakura River. I was eight at the time, walking home alone. I never needed my parents to pick me up. Ichigo, on the other hand, always walked with his mother. Our houses were on the same route, but I liked to take my time and walk slowly, so I trailed behind them—far enough that they never noticed me.
That's when I saw it.
Ichigo had spotted a ghost girl standing at the edge of the river, about to jump in. It was a trap, but he didn't know that. He ran to save her. His mother ran after him.
I watched from the floodplain, hidden. I saw everything.
The ghost girl was just a disguise. Her true form was some kind of monster wearing a mask, with an odd antenna—almost like a deep-sea fish luring in its prey.
Ichigo's mother looked like she was about to summon something—there was a faint blue glow forming in her hand. I was surprised when I saw it, even if it only lasted a moment. But then, for some reason, it vanished before she could use it. In that brief hesitation, the monster lunged at Ichigo, aiming to kill or devour him.
But his mother stepped in.
She threw herself over him, shielding him with her body. She died protecting him.
After that, the monster just... left. Maybe it was full. Maybe it decided Ichigo wasn't worth the trouble. That's just my theory.
Thank god it didn't notice me. I was frozen in place, hidden, scared out of my mind. Not because of Ichigo's mother dying—but because I was terrified the monster might spot me too.
When it was finally gone, I saw her lifeless body lying on top of her son. I didn't do anything. I didn't go near them. I just turned around and walked home—never said a word to him about what really happened to his mother.
Call me cold-blooded. I don't care. I'm not a hero—and I'm not a villain either. I'm just a spectator. That's the role I like. If things get dangerous, I'd rather run.
Anyway… back to the present.
When the ghost girl tripped and Ichigo ran to help her, the monster got close. Honestly, why couldn't she just fly or something? Ghosts are weird.
Anyway, Someone ran past me toward the monster. A swordsman... or so I thought. At first, I mistook them for a man because of the build and hair, but when I saw the face—it was clearly a girl. Or maybe a femboy? Honestly, I didn't care. I just found it interesting.
She took down the monster easily, like it was nothing. Then, when Ichigo tried to talk to her, she just walked off—either not notice him or choosing to ignore him. Hard to tell.
I've seen people like that before—I call them exorcists. They look human, even though normal people can't see them. Still, I'd never seen her before. Is she new? Whatever.
Back then, I used to think about approaching an exorcist—maybe even begging them to teach me. But I dismissed the idea. I don't like getting involved with people, especially when it could lead to trouble. I hate owing anyone anything. And what if they're not reliable as they seem? I don't want to take that risk.
So, as usual, I usually just ignore them.
Soon after, a crowd of civilians gathered around Ichigo. He and the ghost girl slipped away while they were distracted. As for me? I just kept walking to school. No need to get involved.
School went on like normal—except Ichigo showed up late. I already knew why, of course. After that, I just went home like usual. Ate, took a shower, went to my part-time job, came back, ate again, showered, and went to sleep.
I thought the day was finally over. But just as I was about to close my eyes, I froze.
Someone was coming through my window.
TO BE CONTINUED