“Yo kid, wake up already!” Said a shaddy-looking old man as he emptied a huge bucket of ice-cold water over some poor fool’s head.

Wait… It’s MY head!

*Splash*

“H-Huh? Who’s this homeless-bum-looking dude? I ain’t got no alms” 

Those were the first words I said after the rough awakening.

Strangely, rather than complaining about his crude water assault, I was more struck by the landscape around me. 

A little room. Or it should be better to describe it like some poorly improvised living quarters. Trash laying around here and there, a bonfire and a pot above it in what looks like a rustic attempt at a stove, and a bunch of leaves and cardboard laying in a corner. Is that… a bed?

The dreadful state of the room aside, in front of me stood an old man with an equally as dreadful look: dead fish eyes, clothes full of holes and patches, long and unkept hair. I thought I died, why did I appear in the middle of some ghetto junkie’s room?

“Ah!? Who are you calling homeless bum!? Do you even know how many thousands of churches exist around the world!? All of them are technically homes for me”

“Well, I guess for a homeless bum in seach of someone to leech from a church may pretty much look like a summer house, but…”

“I didn’t mean it in that sense! They literally exists to venerate me!”

“Look, I feel for you. We all have our days when we want to just throw everything away and live the rest of our lifes leeching off from the system. But don’t you think you’re being a little bit too conceited? 

Saying they exists to venerate you and all… Honest people will get mad”

“Why do you keep misinterpreting my words like that!? The system, you say? I AM the system! I’m the one that keeps it moving!” 

Said the old man, his face looking more twisted the more he talked to me. 

Could it be that he has some sort of social anxiety? That could very well be the reason of his likely failure at job interviews.

“Hoh, such bold assertions from some unemployed bum that most likely doesn’t contribute a single cent in taxes.”

“Enough! Just shut up for a second, will you!?” 

Seemingly fed up with my humble observations, Mr. homeless bum decided to call for a break as he caught his breath.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you too much." 

I decided i should show a bit of empathy towards his dire economical situation.

"But don’t lose faith" I continued: "Did you know that if you recycle it correctly, even the most worthless piece of trash can become useful?"

"Oh, but I definitely didn’t try to implicitly call you trash or anything like that. Nope. Not at all. Absolutely not. Zero”

“…” 

The frustrated old man just decided to keep silent as he scowled at me. I guess no matter how empty his wallet may be, the wisdom earned through decades of living is still present.

“So, leaving that aside, don’t you have anything else you want to ask about?” 

Impressive, he recovered pretty fast. I expected him to dwell and suffer on the fact that he is a dead weight for society for a bit more.

“Hmm, let’s see, how about you get me a towel and a change of clothes? I would like to keep insulting you as payback for throwing that cold water at me, but I don’t feel my fingers anymore.”

“How about adding a ‘please’ here and there? Didn’t your parents teach you to be respectful to the elderly?” Replied the old man, seemingly unable to let go of any chance to challenge my humble attitude.

“Didn’t yours teach you to not throw buckets of water at the young? Our immune systems are quite fragile, you know?”

“Tch, whatever.”

Haha, he gave up.

“But making you new clothes will be too much of a hassle, so I’m just going to dry you up together with your current attire” Said the old man in an apathetic tone.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

What is this guy talking about? ‘Making new clothes’? Also, it’s going to take too long if we just wait for it to dry naturally. Does he want me to die from hypothermia?

But before I could even ask about the meaning of his words, the old bum snapped his fingers and suddenly some strange light surrounded me, and it felt… Warm? What is this? Is he some sort of street magician?

Then, in a quite unbelievable manner, the light disappeared and so did all the cold humidity on me. 

I touched my shirt and my pants again, took off my shoes and turned them to the side to see if any water would drip out. 

It was really as if all the water molecules just faded away in a blink.

“I… This…”

I was speechless, magic is something perfectly normal where I am from, and I know about fire magic, as I’m able to cast fireballs, each the size of a fist. 

But there’s no way the fire magic I know of could be used to instantly dry up clothes without burning them and the person wearing them in the process.

There’s definitely something very suspicious about this old bummer, I have to be very careful with what I say next…

“Hey old man, that trick was pretty good, but I believe I told you already that I ain’t got no alms.”

----------------------------------------

After another short and amicable exchange between me and the old swindler I came to know that my wrinkly-faced friend right here is supposed to be… Well…

“Man, I definitely wouldn’t believe that god actually looks like a random inhabitant of the streets unless I saw it in person”

I shared my first impressions after the big reveal.

God. A supreme existence that goes beyond human understanding. Omnipotent, omnipresent. The one and only creator of humankind and the universe itself.

And… A shaddy old bum that sleeps in a bed of leaves and cardboard.

Heh.

Hehe.

AHAHAHAHAHAHA

Damn, I can’t. I just can’t. Will he erase my existence if I laugh out loud in his face? Is this one of those so-called tests of faith that god is said to be so fond of? 

“I’m surprised. Most people choose either to remain in denial or to aknowledge me and start treating me with utmost respect and reverence. But you just accepted it and kept acting perfectly normal”

Indeed, the concept of god is something deeply ingrained in any human being’s psyche, in a way, you could consider him the greatest legend, overcoming both heroes and demons. So most people would react that way.

As for me, I had my sources.

“It just happens that I’m the son of a reincarnated hero, so he had already told me about his encounter with the ‘bum god’, dirty room and non-existent sense of fashion included”

“A reincarnated’s…? So you are Kurohara’s son?”

I nodded my head in affirmation, I guess his memory is not as bad as his living conditions.

“Kurohara Ichika, huh? But wait, wasn’t he an ‘ultra useless impotent hero x100’, and a masochist to boot? How come his son ended up with such a sharp tongue?”

Oh dad, even the gods are aware of your sexual inadequacies…

“It’s not that suprising if you think about it. An extreme masochist will most likely take an extreme sadist as a partner.”

I pointed out the logical conclusion.

“Ha Ha Ha” 

For the first time, the old bum (or should I say godly bum?) let out a dry laugh.

“Seems like he managed to give a good use to the new chance at life I gave him, it’s so moving to see your little reincarnated grow up.”

Those words exuded tenderness and nostalgia, as if he was talking about a son of his own. 

Actually, we indeed are technically supposed to be his children. Should I start calling him bum grandpa?

----------------------------------------

After talking a bit about how my dad's life turned out after his appearance in a parallel world, the time for carefree exchanges with god had to come to an end.

It was time to deal with the most serious issue.

“So, having gone through the presentations, I think we should get to the main question…”

The air froze.

“Did I...”

The words got stuck in my throat.

“Did I die?”

All the friendly banter was a cover. 

An excuse to burn time. 

The moment to ask the question that bothered me the most had come.

The uncomfortable sensation creeping on the back of my head since I woke up in this room.

A question whose answer I already knew, but I still needed confirm it to remove any remaining bit of uncertainty… 

And to remove any remaining bit of hope.

“Yes, you died” 

Such were god’s words, said in an unexpectedly solemn tone. 

A tone that didn’t match at all with his looks, but felt oddly representing of his true self.

Yes, I died.

A short answer to a short question. Just a couple of words, a little group of syllables, a small bunch of letters.

It was so simple, it was really just that.

But its weight brutally crushed my heart. 

My breath became agitated.

‘I won’t be able to eat mom’s pankakes anymore’

My pulse became erratic.

‘I won’t be able to plow the fields with dad anymore’

My head started to throb.

‘I won’t be able to see Iris smile anymore’

Tears started to fall uncontrollably from my eyes.

‘I won’t be able to laugh with Walter and the guys anymore’

 The "Everyday" that characterized my life had become a "Never again"

I want to run. My legs are motionless.

I want to scream. My throat feels stuck.

I want to wipe my tears. They won’t stop.

I don’t want to be here anymore. 

I don’t want to be myself anymore.

As I experienced for the first time in my life the extreme feeling of loss that accompanies a heartbreak, god started to approach me as he said:

“I have seen lots of dead people. People who die filled with regrets. People who die filled with hate. People who filled with love.”

He stood in front of my already soulless body.

“Among those, which type do you think suffers the most when confronted with the reality of their own death?”

I didn’t listen to anything he said. The words definitely entered through my ears, but I just couldn’t make out their meaning.

“The ones that die filled with love”  He continued.

My legs couldn’t take the trembling anymore and just collapsed under the weight of my body

“You must have really loved your life and the people around you.”

I was looking somewhere, probably at the floor. 

I wasn’t able to make up a coherent picture of reality anymore, but I’m sure I saw a puddle, a puddle created by the tears falling from my eyes.

“And I’m sure… That they also loved you back.”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

A scream.

Dry. Hysterical. Hoarse.

The only fitting melody to accompany the end of my beloved life.