Lugiri:Re

Arc 1: A Chaotic First Day in Lugiri

The beautiful blue sky of Tokyo stretched wide above the city, while the deafening sound of cicadas could be heard everywhere.

The summer heat was intense. People walked through the streets of Shibuya wearing short, light clothing to cope with the oppressive heat.

The sweet smell of ice cream came from children passing by while holding their cones.

The hot air was almost tangible, and the humidity made the atmosphere feel heavy as the crowd spread across the sidewalks.

A man in a suit entered an air-conditioned bar, sat down near the counter, and fixed his eyes on the television broadcasting the local news.

“Summer has arrived with a vengeance!” the female news anchor announced on the screen. “We’re currently experiencing a major heat wave. So, everyone, get your light clothes ready and stock up on ice cream, because it’ll be hard to endure this heat without it!”

The man let out a deep sigh and muttered to himself:

“The heat really came in swinging, huh?”

Meanwhile, outside...

A young man of average height and a slim build walked in front of the establishment.

His dark brown hair was short and naturally messy, with a single white strand falling over the front of his face, standing out among the dark strands.

He had intense blue eyes, whose expression always remained distant and tired.

He wore a black-and-orange tracksuit from a Japanese brand, consisting of a high-collared jacket and matching pants. On the left side of his chest was only a discreet logo in the shape of the letter R. On his feet, he wore a pair of ordinary sneakers, already quite worn after about two years of use.

Despite his striking eyes and noticeable white streak, his overall appearance was ordinary. Amid the crowds of Shibuya, he looked like just another teenager going about his daily routine.

The boy continued his steady walk through the streets until a familiar voice cut through the noise of traffic:

“Hey! What's up, bro? Long time no see!”

He turned around and came face-to-face with a young man with green hair and light yellow eyes like sunlight.

It was someone who had once been very close to him in the past, an old friend he didn't even remember.

“Long time no see, man! It's been years, right? You probably don't even remember me,” the newcomer said with a smile.

Arata furrowed his brow for a second, trying to search his memory.

“Of course I remember! Your name is Nen, right?!”

The other boy burst out laughing and shook his head.

“Damn, you really forgot! My name is Ren, man!”

“Oh, right!” Arata laughed awkwardly. “Now I really remember. Long time no see, Ren! How's life?”

Ren was an old childhood friend from their elementary school days. They used to be inseparable until Ren suddenly distanced himself and the two lost contact, something Arata didn't even remember.

Ren observed Arata for a few seconds, as if trying to compare the boy standing in front of him with the memory he had kept.

“Man... one thing hasn't changed.”

Arata tilted his head.

“What?”

Ren pointed at his hair.

“That white streak.”

Arata raised a hand to his bangs.

“My streak?”

“Yeah. You still have it.”

Ren chuckled lightly.

“When we were kids, I thought you'd dyed it in secret.”

“Did I?”

“No. You never really cared. I was the one who kept bothering you, saying you looked like an anime character.”

Arata let out a small laugh.

“That sounds like something you'd do.”

Ren smiled for a few seconds.

“I remember you saying it was because of your mother.”

Arata's smile slowly faded.

“My mother...”

“Yeah. You said it came from her family.”

Arata fell silent.

No matter how hard he tried to pull that memory from his mind, he found only the same emptiness as always.

“I... don't really remember.”

Ren noticed the change in his expression and quickly changed the subject.

“I go to the same school you used to attend, and they told me you became a hikikomori.”

“Is that true?!” Ren looked him up and down, seeming incredulous.

“How did that confident guy who was good at sports and talented end up like this?”

Arata looked away, uncomfortable.

“That's how it is... I don't really understand what happened either. But... was that all you wanted to know?”

“Of course not! You've changed a lot. What happened to you, Arata? I heard you lost your talent in sports, your grades plummeted, and you ended up dropping out of school.”

“What happened, man?”

“You wouldn't understand, Ren...”

“Well, not that I'm super worried, of course...” Ren shrugged, quickly changing his tone of voice.

“But, Arata, I wanted to ask you for a favor.”

“What is it?”

“Could you lend me some money? I'm almost completely broke and I need to pay someone.”

“Please, help me out!”

“But... I barely have anything with me...”

“At least a thousand yen would help!” Ren insisted, clasping his hands together in a pleading gesture.

“Please! I swear I'll pay you back!”

As their conversation continued, the flow of pedestrians carried on around them.

Workers returning from their jobs radiated the exhaustion of the day.

Some smokers walked through the crowd, releasing clouds of gray smoke, something Arata deeply hated, considering it an incredible lack of consideration for others.

Amid the strong smell of cigarettes and the sound of footsteps echoing across the asphalt, the city bustled with life.

Cars, motorcycles, and buses sped through the intersection while the traffic light remained green.

Suddenly, a mischievous child ran across the street.

A truck nearly hit him, letting out a loud, shrill honk.

Instead of getting scared, the little boy simply smiled, stuck out his tongue, and finished crossing the road.

Arata shook his head, thinking the boy's attitude was incredibly reckless.

Turning his attention back to his "friend," Arata sighed. He took out his wallet, pulled out a thousand-yen bill, and handed it over.

Ren immediately grabbed the money, his eyes lighting up.

“Thanks a lot, man! I swear I'll pay you back later!”

He put the bill away and gave Arata a pat on the shoulder.

“Thanks, seriously. You're a good friend!”

“It was nothing...” Arata replied, looking discouraged.

Deep down, he knew he would never see that money again.

None of his supposed "friends" ever paid back what they owed.

They simply took advantage of his passiveness, only looking for him whenever they needed some financial favor.

They weren't true friends, just leeches taking advantage of his kindness.

And the worst part was that Arata did nothing to stop them, feeling like a complete coward because of it.

He resumed walking aimlessly through the busy streets of Shibuya until he stopped in front of a convenience store.

Arata looked at his own reflection in the store window.

The tired face staring back at him looked the same as always: dull blue eyes and that small white streak among his brown hair, a feature he had carried for as long as he could remember.

As soon as the automatic doors opened, a blast of cold air conditioning greeted him, bringing immediate relief from the summer heat.

Arata walked straight toward the manga section, taking in the characteristic smell of fresh paper.

He flipped through one of the magazines, but a bitter thought soon struck him:

If I still had all my money, I could buy this...

After turning a few more pages, he closed the volume in frustration.

He felt a deep anger toward himself for being so vulnerable.

He put the manga back on the shelf and looked melancholically through the store window, watching couples walking together outside.

Deciding to leave, he picked up an instant ramen and headed toward the register.

“That'll be two hundred yen, young man,” the cashier said.

Arata handed over his last two one-hundred-yen coins.

The man placed the product in a plastic bag and mechanically thanked him.

“Please come again.”

As Arata left the store, the doors closed behind him, and the sudden change in temperature hit him as the muggy air and the singing of the cicadas greeted him once again.

With his right hand holding the bag and his left holding his cellphone, he opened the messaging app.

His contact list contained only three names: Karasu Ryusei and Shiori Ryusei, his adoptive parents, and the emergency number from the phone's system.

Putting his phone away, he continued toward the subway station.

On the way, he passed a little boy with blue hair who was asking for help on the sidewalk, surrounded by a few people leaving coins in a small container.

Arata approached, left a coin he had found in his pocket, and heard the little boy thank him with a grateful smile.

Further ahead, while hurrying along, Arata accidentally bumped into a man carrying his son in his arms.

“Sorry about that, kid! I didn't mean to!” the father apologized.

“It was nothing! I probably just tripped,” Arata replied, trying to be polite.

“No, it was more my lack of attention,” the man said with a smile.

Arata looked at the child.

“Then I was wrong. And you, big guy? Sorry I almost knocked you over when I bumped into your dad, okay?”

“It was nothing, mister...” the child replied shyly.

“Well then, Mr. Arata Ryusei will be on his way.”

“See you!” He waved goodbye and continued on his way.

From a distance, the boy looked at his father and asked:

“Daddy... why was that man like that?”

The father sighed, looking in the direction Arata had disappeared.

“I don't know, son... Maybe he's going through some problems. It's hard to say.”

Finally, Arata arrived at the station. He passed through the ticket gate using the last bit of balance remaining on his transit card and sat down on one of the benches on the platform.

The station had that cold, metallic smell so characteristic of underground spaces.

Around him, dozens of people wearing light clothing waited for the train to arrive, including a group of teenagers laughing and talking loudly.

To shut himself off from the world, Arata put on his white Bluetooth earbuds, turned up the volume on his phone, and let himself become absorbed in the music.

When the lights along the tracks announced the approaching train, he stood up.

He fixed his gaze on the cars as they slowed down and took a step forward to position himself in the boarding line.

But in the blink of an eye, everything changed.

A blinding white light consumed his vision.

The subway station, the sound of the tracks, and the smell of metal disappeared instantly.

When he managed to open his eyes again, Arata was no longer underground in Tokyo.

He found himself in the middle of a street with unmistakably medieval architecture.

What shocked him the most, however, weren't the stone buildings, but the inhabitants.

Half-human creatures with animal ears and tails calmly walked through the streets.

The sound of conversations in a strange language and the clattering of hooves echoed throughout the area.

“What...? Where... where am I?” he stammered, rubbing his eyes hard. “Is this a dream?”

To test it, he slapped himself across the face.

The impact was strong enough to make one of his wireless earbuds fall to the ground.

He quickly crouched down, picked it up, and put it in his pocket, feeling the real pain in his cheek.

“I can't believe it... I...”

Suddenly, Arata's blue eyes shone with an intensity they had never shown before.

A huge, genuine smile spread across his face, replacing all the melancholy from before.

He looked up at the clear sky and screamed inside his head:

I ended up in another world!!!

The sun shone brightly overhead, bizarrely similar to the summer sun of Tokyo, but the similarities ended there.

Huge carriages pulled by ground dragons traveled along the stone-paved streets, sharing the roads with the local inhabitants.

Completely stunned, Arata began walking through the streets of this new city.

In the distance, he could see an enormous circular wall surrounding the city.

Who had brought him here?

What kind of world was this?

A parallel dimension?

A game?

His mind was flooded with questions, but he had no answers.

To make matters worse, his only possessions were the tracksuit he was wearing, his two-year-old worn-out shoes, which attracted strange looks from passersby, a plastic bag containing an instant ramen, the Bluetooth earbuds that were now completely silent, and his cellphone, which, besides having no signal, GPS, or network connection, displayed the dreaded low-battery warning.

Not knowing what to do or where to go, Arata moved away from the main flow of people and entered a more secluded alley.

He sat down on the stone steps of an old building, staring at the ground, which, although well-paved, looked far too rustic compared to the modern asphalt of Japan.

Leaving the convenience-store bag beside him, he rested his elbows on his knees and stared into the void.

And now... what am I supposed to do?

End of Chapter 1.

To be continued in Chapter 2...