Chapter 3;⠀⠀⠀⠀ Shattered Real!ty — Dust! 『 3 』

Was... Was it... all just a dream?

“Oni-chan...?”

Yuki’s soft voice pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. I froze mid-hug, my realization hitting like a tidal wave.

Why was I hugging Mom?

I immediately pulled back, my cheeks flushing bright red. “Y-Y—W-What!?” I stammered, unable to find my words.

“Nothing...” Yuki smirked mischievously, tilting his head. “It’s just... you rarely ever hug Mom like that.”

“M-Me? Hugging Mom? Keh! Don’t joke around! That’s impossible!” I crossed my arms, trying to mask my embarrassment.

“Hai, hai,” Yuki said with an exaggerated shrug. “You just never admit your feelings, that’s all.”

“Ugh... t-that—” I opened my mouth to retort, but nothing came out. He had me cornered.

Thankfully, Mom intervened. “Yuki, don’t tease your brother too much,” she said gently, though there was a small smile on her face.

“Uhhh... fine...” Yuki huffed, though his smirk didn’t fade entirely.

Desperate for an escape, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “C-Crap! The Dark Lord is invading!”

Without giving them a chance to respond, I spun around and quickly retreated to my room, slamming the door behind me.

Pulsars are rotating neutron stars observed to have pulses of radiation at very regular intervals that typically range from milliseconds to seconds. Pulsars have very strong magnetic fields which funnel jets of particles out along the two magnetic poles. These accelerated particles produce very powerful beams of light—

Wait.

Why the hell am I even thinking about Pulsars?

“Natsumi, you’re gonna be lalte!” Dad’s voice echoed from downstairs.

“Yes, I’m coming! Just... six minutes!” I shouted back, though my voice cracked slightly at the end.

Okay, Natsumi, you’ve got six minutes. Let’s think about this universally. Was that really a dream?

Maybe if I hadn’t wished for that, none of it would’ve happened.

But why? Why was I even dreaming about that? Why did I have the wish to be transported to another world in the first place?

How did I get to college?

Why did I live alone?

Why was I playing Vetaback?

Why... why did I cry for Yuki?

My thoughts accelerated, faster and faster, until they felt like a whirlpool dragging me under. The more I synchronized the threads of my memories, the more tangled they became. Questions kept multiplying like a virus in my mind.

Why was I living in a mansion?

Why did my parents leave—

Wait. What?

I froze.

Ah.

My head.

It hurts.

The throbbing pain slammed into my skull like a hammer. It was relentless, insistent, as if my brain itself was trying to split in two.

“What the hell is going on!?” I hissed through gritted teeth, gripping the edge of my desk for support.

My breathing became shallow, ragged.

“Okay. Enough!”

I forced myself to stop thinking, pushing the intrusive questions aside.

But it wasn’t that easy. My knees buckled, and I stumbled to the floor.

“Ha... ha... ha...”

My breaths were uneven, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

I managed to get back to my feet, though the world swayed slightly as I stood. My head felt like it was full of static, but I shoved it aside, focused on what needed to be done.

I put on my school uniform, though the headache left me numb to most of my movements. The dream—no, the nightmare—I’d had faded into the background, its edges blurring with time.

Maybe it was just a dream.

No, it was just a dream.

Something like that doesn’t affect me. It doesn’t change how I behave.

Yes, that’s right. It doesn’t matter. I’ll go to school. Be perfect.

Everyone is happy.

Except me.

But that’s okay. If everyone else is happy, then what else can I do?

I adjusted my glasses and opened the door.

Dad was ready to leave for work. Yuki was already by the doorway, her bag slung over her shoulder.

Wait. Yuki was wearing a skirt?

That’s... strange.

But if that’s what Yuki prefers, I don’t mind.

The bright sunlight greeted me as I stepped outside.

First day of high school.

The entrance ceremony awaited me.

Yuki and I walked together to her school first, chatting idly about nothing. When we reached her school gate, we parted ways.

And then I was alone.

The sun felt too bright. The air too silent.

But I kept walking.

One step at a tim—

I felt a sharp pain on my back, followed by a loud slap, and someone saying, “Yo!”

I ignored it and kept walking.

“Yo!”

I heard it again but chose to pretend it wasn’t meant for me.

“Hey! Natsumi!”

I tilted my head slightly upward, gazing at the clear blue sky. The sun’s rays were already intense. It would probably get uncomfortably hot soon.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me!”

Maybe I should stop wearing a blazer in this weather.

“I know you can hear me!”

I tried to distract myself by thinking about when the next chapter of Sabetsu no nai, dare mo kizutsukanai sekai would be released? Probably next—

Suddenly, a figure appeared in front of me and blocked my path.

“Don’t ignore me!” the stranger shouted before trying to hug me.

Of course, I sidestepped just in time, causing the would-be hugger to stumble and fall flat on the ground with a groan.

The person got up, brushing themselves off, revealing Atsisaya Okumura—my childhood friend.

“What do you want, Atsisaya?” I asked dryly, already bracing myself for her antics.

“What do you mean by that!?” she whined, her pout exaggerated. Then, she added with a smug grin, “We’re supposed to walk to the entrance ceremony together. That’s what lovers do!”

My face immediately turned red, and I retorted back, “Huh!? Who said we’re lovers!?”

I lightly smacked her on the head out of pure reflex.

“Ow!” She put her hands on her head, looking at me with a mockingly sad expression. “That hurts, you know...”

Ignoring her, I walked ahead.

“Hey, hey! We should hold hands!”

“Huh? Absolutely not! That’s what lovers do, and we are not lovers!”

“Why not?” she whined.

“Because I said so!”

“But aren’t we lovers already?”

“No, we’re not!”

“But I confessed to you...”

“And I rejected you!”

“You said yes.”

“I didn’t!”

“Tsk.” She clicked her tongue, clearly annoyed.

The conversation, as frustrating as it was, eventually drifted into more mundane topics—mostly anime. We debated plotlines and laughed about ridiculous tropes.

As we walked, I glanced behind me at her. Atsisaya was undeniably stunning. Her long cyan hair shifted to a soft red at the tips, braided loosely on one side. Her emerald-green eyes sparkled with an energy that seemed endless. She was petite and about my height, though her presence always seemed larger than life.

She was popular, she was cute, and she was everything other guys dreamed of.

But to me, she was just a moron.

“What, have you fallen for me or something?” she asked, her voice teasing yet awkward, as if she was nervous. She avoided meeting my eyes, pretending to adjust her bag strap.

I sighed, looking forward again.

She might’ve been a beauty in everyone else’s eyes, but to me, she was still just an idiot.

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“Not in a million years,” I muttered.

She grinned. “We’ll see about that!”

The walk to the high school wasn’t particularly long, but with Atsisaya clinging to me like an annoying mosquito, it felt like an eternity.

She kept babbling about nonsense—some new anime, a limited-edition figurine she wanted, and random gossip about people I didn’t care about. I gave half-hearted responses, trying to focus on the looming entrance ceremony instead.

We eventually reached the gates of the high school. Students were flooding in, chatting excitedly and forming groups like some bizarre migration ritual.

“Hey, look at that pair!”

I froze at the sound of someone’s voice.

Turning my head, I caught sight of a group of students pointing at us—or more specifically, at me.

“They’re so pretty!” one of the girls squealed.

“Wait… is that a guy or a girl?” another whispered.

“What do you mean? Of course, that’s a—”

I cut them off, glaring at them as I crossed my arms. “Oi. I’m a guy, got it? G-U-Y. Don’t mistake my divine presence for something as simple as gender!”

The group stared at me, stunned for a moment, before one of the boys smirked. “Ohhh, a trap, huh? Nice.”

My face burned red. “Trap!? Don’t call me that! I’m not—”

Another student chimed in from the background, their voice filled with unhinged enthusiasm. “Traps are even better! It’s like you get the best of both worlds!”

What the hell was wrong with these people?

The murmurs didn’t stop.

“Wow, their skin is flawless!”

“That hair looks so soft.”

“His uniform looks better than it does on anyone else.”

“His voice is kind of cute, too.”

I could feel my entire body heating up from the embarrassment. My throat felt tight, but I couldn’t back down now. “Fools! Cease your meaningless chatter! You dare praise the celestial vessel of the Fallen Angel King as though I need mortal approval!?”

Instead of being intimidated, the group erupted into laughter.

“Even his chuuni lines are cute!” one of them said, practically rolling on the ground.

“Sh-shut up!” I snapped, but my voice cracked, making them laugh harder.

Atsisaya leaned closer, her grin far too smug. “You are cute, though. Maybe even cuter than me.”

“Wha—!?” I spun to glare at her, my cheeks ablaze. “Shut up! Don’t compare me to you, you idiot!”

She only giggled, waving off my protests like it was nothing.

The crowd eventually dispersed, though I could still hear their stupid comments trailing behind me as we entered the school building.

The entrance hall was massive, and students were already gathering inside. Atsisaya and I took our seats near the back as the principal stepped up to the podium. His speech began with the usual platitudes about hard work, friendship, and “the importance of shaping the future.”

I zoned out about three sentences in.

The speech dragged on for what felt like hours, though it probably wasn’t that long. Finally, the ceremony ended, and we were dismissed to our respective classrooms.

The walk to mine was uneventful, aside from Atsisaya constantly pestering me about lunch plans.

Once I stepped inside, I scanned the room. The desks were arranged neatly in rows, and students were chatting in clusters, their energy almost palpable. I sighed and walked to the seat assigned to me.

When the teacher arrived, she called for introductions. One by one, my new classmates stood up, giving their names and a few details about themselves. Most of them were painfully normal.

When it was my turn, I stood up, flipping my hair dramatically.

“My name is Natsumi Tohka,” I began, my voice echoing with faux gravitas. “But you may call me by my true title: The Primordial Fallen Angel of the Demon King’s Army. I am the harbinger of chaos, the shadow that dances between realms. Fear not, for I am here to—”

The teacher clapped her hands together, cutting me off. “That’s so cool, Natsumi-kun!”

Wait. What?

The class burst into laughter, some of them clapping, others grinning like idiots. My face turned crimson as I sat down, muttering under my breath.

Idiots. All of them.

Class started soon after. The material was basic, but I barely paid attention, too busy fuming over my introduction. The only consolation was that Atsisaya wasn’t in my class, so at least I had some peace from her teasing.

When the break came, though, peace was the last thing I got.

A group of classmates surrounded my desk, bombarding me with questions.

“So, are you really a Fallen Angel?”

“Do you have powers?”

“Where’s the Demon King now?”

I crossed my arms, trying to maintain my composure. “Hmph. Mortals like you wouldn’t understand the burden of my existence. But rest assured, the Demon King and I have an alliance that transcends dimensions.”

Instead of being intimidated, they looked even more intrigued.

“That’s awesome!”

“You’re hilarious, Natsumi-kun!”

“Do you have a cape? Can you bring it tomorrow?”

I groaned, standing up abruptly. “Enough! I can’t waste my time with meaningless chatter. The Hero of Xeain is summoning me. I must go!”

Without waiting for a response, I darted out of the classroom, ignoring their laughter echoing behind me.

I didn’t stop running until I reached the school courtyard, where a quiet bench sat under a tree. Dropping onto the bench, I pulled out the bread roll I’d bought earlier from the cafeteria and took a bite. The soft, fluffy texture and hint of sweetness were comforting, a small escape from the chaos of the day.

I closed my eyes, savoring the moment.

“Found you,” came Atsisaya’s voice.

I opened one eye to see her standing in front of me, arms crossed and smirking.

“Why am I not surprised?” I muttered, taking another bite of my bread.

She sat down beside me, leaning back and stretching her arms. “You’re always so dramatic, you know that? It’s cute.”

“Stop calling me cute,” I snapped, turning away from her.

“But you are.”

I scowled, finishing the last of my bread in silence.

We chatted—or more accurately, bickered—about random things for a while before heading back to class.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of lectures, notes, and the occasional teasing remark from my classmates. By the time the final bell rang, signaling the end of school, I was utterly drained.

As I packed my bag and headed out the door, Atsisaya caught up to me, grinning as always.

“Hey, want to walk home together?”

I sighed, not bothering to argue.

Sorry about that! Here's the continuation:

“Nah. I have classes,” I replied to Atsisaya, trying to keep my tone as neutral as possible.

“Again?” She tilted her head, her expression a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

“Yep,” I said curtly, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder.

She pouted, clearly dissatisfied with my lack of an explanation. “You’re always so secretive about these ‘classes.’ What are you, a secret agent or something?”

I didn’t bother replying and started walking toward the school gate.

“Oi, Natsumi!” she called out, her voice trailing behind me. “At least tell me what kind of class it is!”

“Not happening,” I muttered, quickening my pace.

The train station wasn’t far from school, and I reached it in a matter of minutes. I swiped my card at the gate, boarded the bullet train, and settled into a seat near the window. The familiar hum of the train as it sped through Tokyo’s endless skyline was oddly soothing.

I stared out the window, watching the city blur by. For a moment, I let myself get lost in the movement, the rhythm, the artificial stillness of it all. My reflection stared back at me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d always looked this tired.

The train arrived at my stop, and I stepped out, making my way through the bustling station. The streets of Tokyo stretched out before me, noisy and alive, yet somehow still suffocating. I navigated my way to a building that towered over the neighboring structures.

The studio.

The automatic doors slid open with a quiet hiss as I stepped inside. The air was cool and sterile, the faint hum of activity filling the space. I made my way to the elevator, punched in the floor number, and waited as it ascended.

When the doors opened, I was greeted by the familiar sight of the studio’s lounge.

“Natsumi-kun!” A loud voice greeted me as soon as I stepped in.

A boy about my age bounded over, his bleached hair and ridiculously trendy outfit making him stand out like a neon sign. “You’re here! Finally! I was beginning to think you ditched us today!”

“Why would I do that, Kaede?” I replied, feigning a smirk.

Kaede grinned sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. “Dunno, you’re always so mysterious. Gotta keep an eye on you, you know?”

“Natsumi-chan!”

Before I could respond, one of the girls in the room called out. She was petite with long pink hair and a cheerful disposition that seemed to brighten the whole studio.

“Haruka,” I acknowledged with a small nod.

“Don’t be so stiff,” she teased, crossing her arms. “You’re among friends here, you know?”

I didn’t reply, choosing instead to survey the room. The others were here as well—Yumi, the quiet one with dark blue hair who was always reading something; Rika, the energetic blonde who never seemed to run out of things to say; and Mari, the elegant older girl who had an air of sophistication I’d never quite understood.

Each of them greeted me in their own way, and I responded in kind, keeping up appearances.

As much as I wanted to believe I was just another one of them, I knew I wasn’t.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Mari said, clapping her hands together. “We’ve got a lot to cover today.”

The group moved into the rehearsal space, a large room with mirrored walls and a polished wooden floor.

“Alright, Natsumi-kun,” Haruka said, handing me a script. “You’re playing the lead today. Ready?”

“Of course,” I replied, taking the script and scanning it quickly.

Kaede gave me a thumbs-up. “Man, you’re gonna kill it. As usual.”

I offered a half-hearted smile in response.

The rehearsal began, and we moved through the motions of acting, singing, and dancing. I followed the steps, recited the lines, and hit the marks with precision.

What’s the point of all this?

The others laughed and joked between takes, their energy filling the room. I played along, of course. I had to.

“Natsumi-kun, that was amazing!” Rika said after one particularly challenging scene.

“Yeah, you’re a natural,” Yumi added, glancing up from her book.

Kaede clapped me on the back. “Seriously, man, you’re like a machine! How do you do it?”

“I’m just that good,” I replied with a smirk, masking the hollowness I felt inside.

“See? Even his modesty is perfect,” Haruka teased, earning a round of laughter from the group.

I joined in, the sound of my own laugh feeling alien in my ears.

As the rehearsal continued, I found myself going through the motions mechanically. Every step, every line, every movement was perfect.

But it wasn’t me...

When we finally wrapped up for the day, Mari turned to me with a warm smile. “You did great today, Natsumi-kun. As always.”

“Thanks,” I replied, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder.

Kaede caught up to me as I headed for the door. “Hey, you wanna grab something to eat? My treat!”

“Not today,” I said, keeping my tone light. “Maybe next time.”

“Alright, don’t keep me waiting too long, okay?”

I nodded and left the studio, stepping back out into the bustling streets of Tokyo.

The city was alive with lights and noise, a stark contrast to the suffocating silence I felt within.

I made my way to the train station, boarded the train, and settled into a seat by the window.

As the train sped through the city, I stared out at the lights, my reflection staring back at me once again.

For a moment, I let myself wonder what it would be like to truly feel the excitement and joy I pretended to have back at the studio.

But it was just a fleeting thought, gone as quickly as it came.

When the train arrived at my stop, I stepped out and walked home, the quiet streets a stark contrast to the bustling city center.

I unlocked the door to my apartment and stepped inside, the silence greeting me like an old friend.

Dropping my bag by the door, I made my way to my desk and sat down, staring at the blank screen of my laptop.

Eventually i fell asleep on the desk.

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It’s strange how, little by little, you find yourself slipping into a place you can’t remember ever deciding to go. You find yourself in a cage you built, one brick at a time, each of them cemented with the lies you told others. Not the big lies, not the ones you can’t get away with—those are easy. No, these are the little lies. The ones you tell yourself. The ones you whisper when you’re alone, in the dark. The ones that keep you safe, keep you... numb.

I didn’t even notice when I stopped playing the role. It wasn’t one big decision, wasn’t a moment of clarity. No, it was a thousand tiny moments when I let the weight of my own words sink in. When I stopped pretending. I still acted. I still did what I was supposed to. I still laughed when they laughed. But somewhere along the way, I started believing it. I stopped questioning my actions. I started being perfect.

It felt like slipping into something smooth. Like wearing a mask so tight, you can’t breathe through it but it makes you feel safe. And so I kept going.

At first, I missed the excitement, the flare, the drama.

But as time passed, it became quieter. The empty space inside my chest filled with perfect silence.

When I got hurt, it hurt, of course. But I couldn’t make it scream. I couldn’t feel the sharpness in my chest because that’s not what I was supposed to do. No. Instead, I buried it. And when I loved someone, it hurt too. I couldn't let that happen. Loving meant caring. Loving meant needing. And needing... well, I already knew how that ended. So I locked it away in a box and threw it far from me.

Hating someone hurt, too. But I didn't want to hate, didn’t want that kind of bitterness. Hate, too, is a form of attachment, and attachment... attachment always leads to pain. So instead of hating anyone, I pretended it didn’t matter. Pretended they didn’t matter.

But what’s the point of pretending anymore? What happens when pretending stops working? What happens when there’s no more room to hide, and all you’re left with is the raw, aching truth? When I start noticing that the mask I’ve been wearing is slipping, that the cracks are beginning to show, I want to take it off. I want to scream at the top of my lungs, but I can’t. It feels like I’m being suffocated by my own silence.

My life went on. I performed. I smiled. I said the right things, did the right things. I practiced my dances, my acting, with precision. The others said I was a natural. That it came so easily to me. And it did. At first. But I could see their faces, their expressions when they looked at me. I knew what they saw. They saw the perfect boy. They didn’t see the cracks behind my eyes. They didn’t see the emptiness filling the spaces inside me, like a glass that was too full to hold any more water.

I was good at it. I was so good. But I hated how good I was. Hated how effortlessly it came. Because I was losing myself in it. And part of me didn’t care. I didn’t want to care. Caring hurt.

A few days passed by in silence. But then, one evening, I heard my mom’s voice from the kitchen.

“You have a live performance next week, right?” she asked, calling out without turning to look at me.

“Yeah,” I said vaguely, my voice hollow, too tired to feign any excitement.

I didn’t want to say anything more, so I turned and walked toward my room. The walls seemed to close in around me. I didn’t need this. I didn’t need this performance.

I didn’t need anything.

But somehow, I still practiced harder and harder. Every step, every movement, every line I said—I practiced until my bones ached and my mind screamed for me to stop. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because that’s what I was supposed to do. I wasn’t supposed to think. Not anymore.

The day of the performance came quickly, and I stood backstage, my heart pounding in my chest. The music was so loud, the lights so bright. I could feel the heat of the spotlight through the thin walls, and it made my skin crawl.

“You good, Natsumi?” Kaede’s voice broke through the tension, and I looked over to see him standing by the curtain, grinning like he always did.

I nodded, but inside, my chest tightened. My words felt stuck in my throat, trapped behind an invisible wall.

“Hey, don’t worry. You’ve got this,” he said, his voice encouraging, though it didn’t reach me.

I almost said something. I almost spoke in that voice, the one I used to speak with—“The Hero of Xeain is coming to save the day!” I could almost hear the dramatic inflection in my head. The words that would make me stand tall and invincible. But... I stopped myself. My throat felt tight.

“I’m... nervous,” I muttered instead. It felt like my mouth had betrayed me.

Kaede blinked, surprised by the answer. But then he just smiled and gave me a thumbs-up. “It’s all good. Just go out there and do your thing.”

I wanted to retort but...

I walked out from behind the curtain and onto the stage.

The crowd roared, and the lights blinded me. For a moment, I couldn’t see anything except for the blinding, searing light that made my eyes burn. But I was there. I was standing in front of them.

And for the first time in a long time,

I wondered if any of them saw me.