Fuk Oh Nah Isekai?!?
(Fukona Isekai?!?)
不幸な異世界
"An unfortunate trip to another world"
Jack dreamed.
...
"I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light!"
The man holding the fluffy white and grayish rabbit didn't know what the hell he was doing, or even thinking, but he could somehow make out the lyrics for the song that was playing through his neighbor's earbuds. He knew he was sitting on an airplane, flying across the country to stand up for himself and what he believed in, or at least finally figure out what had happened.
A flight attendant walked by, dressed sharply in their uniform, and advised the man that he needed to keep the bunny cage closed. Even though the man was very "high functioning" he was autistic, which allowed him to register the rabbit as an emotional support animal and be able to bring it with him on the flight. The man closed the latch on the bunny cage that he had started to partially open.
If he had been able to stop and really reflect, even partially, he would have noted that he hadn't really slept or eaten in almost two weeks. Hell, he would have realized that with only half a coherent thought. Any real self-examination would have reminded him that he hadn't been sleeping or thinking clearly from months now. If the man could have taken a real look at himself, he wouldn't have recognized the person he saw or any of his recent choices. He had this strange feeling, in the pit of his stomach that didn't belong there. It felt like a nauseating mix of fear and selfishness, and it had been growing for months now he thought. He couldn't really remember when it started, or exactly when he noticed it. Everything was foggy, and it was somehow tied to the woman he was traveling to see. He knew something was wrong between them and couldn't make sense of what he could remember. He had been trying to keep his promises to her, but also figure out what he needed to do to fix whatever was going on with him, but then everything had gone sideways somehow. She had completely misunderstood what he was trying to tell her, and he didn't understand what she had tried to tell him before cutting off contact.
It hadn't been the first time she had vanished because of panic or needing space. Somehow though, this felt different. She had said things that possibly implied some very horrible realizations, that the man didn't think he was able to ignore.
Even when faced with overwhelming circumstantial ineptitude, old habits die hard and for a fleeting moment the man tried to look inwards, but was once again ensnared in his own twisted trauma-induced self-delusions.
He had to do something. He didn't know if he'd been played again. He'd already been tricked into protecting a manipulative abuser once, and he needed to know that he hadn't made the same mistake again. If he had, he needed make it right somehow.
He was wrestling with these feelings that if he had been played again, he needed to stand up for himself and somehow prove that he deserved more respect than he'd been given. But then all his doubts and confusion came slamming back home.
Suddenly the man completely forgot what he had been thinking, where he was, and why. A moment later he remembered he was flying to figure out how to fix things, because there had to be hope.
The man clung to the thought of hope as he fought down a panic attack that seemed to come out of nowhere. He told himself there was always hope, yet he needed to find out if these horrible disgusting fears in his head were real. They wouldn't let him sleep or eat if they were even slightly real.
The man needed to know if he made another horrible mistake again and gave his heart to someone that didn't even deserve respect as a human being. He needed to know if he had done something wrong and just didn't understand it because despite all his hard work, he was still very much on spectrum and sometimes he just didn't understand normal people. This was especially true when he was exhausted, stressed, or couldn't sleep. He was pretty sure he hadn't been sleeping well.
So many things didn't make sense. He had tried so hard and been his best for so long, but didn't know where it had gotten so derailed. He didn't understand what had happened, what had been misunderstood, maybe his anxiety had gotten in the way again.
Even now, no, especially now when the fog was so bad and he just couldn't think, he found himself doubting all the efforts he had made to learn to read emotions and social cues. He tried to question every perception, every assumption, every extrapolation as clearly and cleanly as he could, but he didn't have anywhere near the mental capacity for that. Then he remembered the feeling again, had he figured the feeling out yet?
For months, this feeling had been growing in his gut, this scared, nauseous, selfishly frustrated, angry temper tantrum feeling that had started out feeling alien, yet now wholly owned his being.
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Why had it felt alien? Probably because he had been scared of the truth, scared of still having not learned how to understand normal people or always rein in his own overly intense emotions. That weird nauseating feeling was familiar, kind of like what it felt like whenever he realized he had once again completely misread things and made an ass of himself or been taken advantage of.
It felt like the shame of never catching up, never being good enough, never being able to get where he wanted to be no matter how hard he tried or how much he learned. It already took so much focus and effort just to not be bitter about all the things he had missed out on while he was still trying to catch up and adapt. With all the emotional elegance and maturity of a heavily sleep deprived, under-socialized 20-year-old, he gave into the maelstrom of his burgeoning emotional tantrum and ignored the whispering voice trying to tell him that Life's not a race or competition. As familiar as that inner voice should have been, he didn't even notice it over the bedlam of intense impulses and turbulent emotions that had seized control of him. The alien selfish-scared-tantrum-impulse won out over the other competitors, but was reined in some by the realization that he really shouldn't fuck with airport security.
The irresistible tantrum manifested as *yet another* tightly contained panic attack. The man choked it down, fighting the panic with his other competing fears and desperation. Contained as it was, it could have been mistaken for an aftershock of one of the countless prior panic attacks the man had been having near constantly for the last 2 weeks. Every time he started to doze off, he would start shaking and have cold sweats. Every time he tried to force himself to eat through the nausea, his heart would start hammering and he would feel like he was suffocating. Every time he took a shower, the water would be so hot that he couldn't stop sweating, his heart would start racing and leaping into his throat. Or it would be too cold, making him just start shivering and convulsing, unable to warm up for hours. Every time he tried to meditate or practice mindfulness, he would grow mindlessly terrified as if something bad was about to happen or he was about to be attacked.
But right then, the man's *need* to stay on the flight and not end up shot by airport security helped him resist the panic. With the Panic being denied an outlet, it stirred up the man's already racing thoughts to an even higher level of frenzy.
Relentlessly repetitive thoughts raced through his brain, competing with the alien selfish fear. He needed to see her. He needed answers. He needed to understand. He needed to fix things. He needed to stand up for himself. He needed be able to live with himself. He needed to figure out how to make the pain stop. He needed to understand why he needed her so much. He needed to figure out how to stop needing her. He needed answers. He needed to understand. He needed to figure out what was going on.
Somehow the man kept oxygen in his blood despite his rapid, shallow breathing. His tall lanky frame grew rigid as he trembled in an attempt to release the rampant anxiety that ate at his soul. As a result, his already starved and dehydrated muscles managed to coax forth only the barest minimum of a sheen of sweat.
The man maintained his excuse for a facade, he had a lifetime of practice when it came to masking. All that practice meant that the rest of the passengers on the airplane just believed he was a junkie going through withdrawal, and not someone who had completely disconnected from reality and himself.
The man decided to soothe himself by ignoring the flight attendant's previous directions. He fully opened the latch he had just closed, and gently snuck his hand into the travel crate he held so that he could pet his beloved animal friend, the previously mentioned bunny. His best buddy nuzzled his hand and welcomed his pets. If the man had been more willingly religious or spiritual, perhaps he would have noted how their souls connected and his friend lent him some compassion and stability. However, the man didn't notice this over his panic, despair, and the incessant whine of the airplane's engines.
Suddenly, there was a flash of light and the man faded into it.
...
A strange 20 foot tall, humanoid figure composed of gentle radiant swirls of gold and silver light, stood in a massive white stone temple located at the top of a remote mountaintop. The entity was strangely smooth and featureless, lacking facial details and only giving a vague impression of wearing robes due to its outline.
The figure stood looking down upon the insensate form of a tall and scrawny young teen, who was lying unconscious on an ornate altar in the center of the expansive temple. A small white and gray furry animal lay sleeping on his lap.
The teen looked to be about 16, maybe 18 considering his height. His face was gentle and soft, not yet having developed many of the sharp angles of masculine maturity. He was dressed in a flowing iridescent white cloth robe, cinched with a silver chain belt at the waist. The robe came down to his shins, and had sleeves that came down to his elbows. Strangely, the boy had twin matching snake tattoos on his forearms, which were out of place on someone his age. They were intricate and detailed, creating tattoo sleeves as the snakes wrapped around each forearm and circled back to begin swallowing their own tails.
Gracefully, the giant figure of light reached out with its right hand and placed two fingers on the teen's forehead for a brief moment before removing them. The figure withdrew a few paces behind the unconscious teen, and adopted a regal posture, legs spread wide and arms clasped behind its back.
...
The man groaned, completely oblivious to how repetitive and cliche such an action was turning out to be for him. He woke up, finding himself lying on a white and silver marble altar, in the middle of a massive, extravagantly ornate building made of the same stone. The entire building was brilliantly lit with white light that flooded in from innumerable windows which stretched up to vaulted ceilings several stories high above.
The man sat up and blinked, letting his one working eye adjust to the bright light. This action dislodged a fluffy white and gray rabbit that had been sleeping with him on his lap. The man lunged to lean forward with sharp reflexes, managing to catch the bunny before it fell to the floor.
The poor creature woke in terrified alarm, finding itself falling through the air only to be grabbed roughly and manhandled. The rabbit's prey instincts were triggered, inspiring it to attempt to wriggle out of the man's grasp. The man wrapped his other arm around the bunny protectively, and started making soothing whispering noises to it while clutching it to his chest and petting its forehead with his free hand. The claws of the bunny's cute little paws feverishly raked against the white cloth robe the man wore, as it tried to burrow straight through his chest out of sheer panic. The man continued to try to calm the rabbit, who somehow was screaming telepathically inside his head.
"LET ME GO! DON'T EAT ME!"
Despite the piercing headache the man was experiencing from the rabbit's telepathic assault, he maintained his hold of the bunny while keeping his grip gentle. It didn't take long for the rabbit to calm down, because it felt something familiar in the man that was holding it.
Both the man and the rabbit were having trouble remembering anything.
"Jack?" the rabbit asked in a voice that sounded oddly like an elderly old man's.
"Cal?" the man responded to the bunny.
"Rise mortals! Rejoice and be reborn! I, Deimos welcome you to my divine plane! I have summoned you here, from beyond the pale of death, to bestow my Divine quest and blessings upon you! Rise hero, and begin your second chance at life, for you are my chosen one!"
BCPD™ loudly pontificated his declaration in a soothing, melodic voice, while hidden inside an illusion of a 20 ft tall humanoid figure composed of gentle radiant swirls of gold and silver light.