Shido's life was never extraordinary. He wasn't a hero, nor was he a villain. Just an average young man stuck in the monotonous loop of modern society. Wake up, commute, work, come back home, and repeat. The bright dreams of his childhood had long faded, replaced by the dull ache of routine. Video games and anime became his only solace, a temporary escape from the crushing weight of reality. Yet even those fleeting moments of joy could not mask the emptiness he felt.

  Growing up, Shido had always been a little different. Not in a remarkable, standout way — more like a quiet presence that people tended to forget once he was out of sight. He never sought attention, never tried to be the life of the party. In school, he hovered somewhere between the background and the occasional supporting role. Friends came and went, as fleeting as the seasons. The ones that stayed were more like acquaintances, never really breaking through the walls Shido built around himself.

  His parents, though well-meaning, never quite understood him. They wanted him to be practical, to aim for a stable career and settle down like everyone else. They rarely saw the spark in his eyes when he talked about the fantastical worlds he wished he could live in. adventures, heroic tales, and sprawling fantasy lands — they were more real to him than the gray streets of his city. But dreams like those were just that — dreams. And dreams didn't pay the bills.

  So Shido followed the script handed to him. He studied diligently, got decent grades, and landed a stable office job that promised security but delivered nothing more than a pay slip and a drained soul. The fluorescent lights of his cubicle became a second sun, the keyboard clicks his ever-present symphony. Coworkers exchanged polite nods, but Shido never felt like part of the rhythm. The occasional company gatherings only amplified his loneliness, the laughter and chatter around him like a language he could no longer speak.

  Weekends provided brief respite. Shido would immerse himself in his favorite games, trading the mundane for fantastical realms. Pokémon battles against virtual trainers, journeys through pixelated landscapes — it was the only time he felt a spark of excitement. Yet even those joys were fleeting. The older he grew, the more hollow those victories seemed. He often thought about his younger self, the boy who believed in impossible adventures and heroic destinies. What would that boy think of him now?

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  Regret was a constant companion. Not the sharp, unbearable kind, but a dull ache that whispered at the edges of his mind. What if he'd chased his passions? What if he’d taken that leap instead of settling for safety? He sometimes imagined quitting his job, packing a bag, and setting off on a journey with no destination in mind. But fantasies were easy. Action was terrifying.

  Then there were the nights. The nights were the worst. Lying alone in his dimly lit apartment, Shido often found himself staring at the ceiling, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound. Memories of missed chances played on repeat. The girl he never asked out. The friends he let drift away. The hobbies he abandoned for the sake of 'growing up.'

  But amidst the regret, there was also a strange sense of acceptance. Maybe some people were just meant to live small lives. Not everyone could be a hero. Not everyone had a grand story. Maybe surviving was enough.

  That thought was what carried him through most days. It wasn’t hope, not really. More like resignation wrapped in a fragile comfort. And yet, even that tiny semblance of peace would soon shatter.

  It was a rainy evening when it happened. Shido’s shift had dragged on longer than usual, the office buzzing with last-minute deadlines. By the time he stepped outside, the sky had darkened to an ominous gray, and the streets shimmered under a relentless downpour. He cursed himself for forgetting his umbrella, but trudged forward, shoulders hunched against the cold. The city felt suffocating — tall buildings loomed like silent judges, their neon signs flickering through the haze.

  His mind wandered as he walked. Thoughts of what awaited him at home — instant noodles, maybe a rerun of an old anime. Another night spent in the company of fictional characters. But amidst those idle musings, something else lingered. An odd sense of finality. Like the universe itself had grown weary of his existence.

  The crosswalk signal blinked green. Shido stepped onto the road, the hum of engines echoing through the rain. That was when he saw it — the blur of headlights, far too close, far too fast. The driver’s panicked horn blared, but there was no time.

  A sharp impact. The world spun. Pain exploded through his body, and for a fleeting moment, everything slowed. Shido's mind screamed, not in fear, but in disbelief. Was this how it ended? Not in some dramatic climax, not in a moment of redemption, but here — in the middle of a rain-slicked street?

  Darkness crept in, muffling the sounds of the city. His vision blurred, the cold seeping into his bones. Yet even as the world slipped away, a strange calmness washed over him. The regrets, the loneliness — they all seemed so distant now.

  And then, there was nothing.