The humidity of a Tokyo afternoon had a way of sticking to your skin, thick and heavy, much like the expectations I had carried for sixteen years.
I walked three paces behind them. I always walked three paces behind. It was a distance I had grown comfortable with—the exact space needed to be present but invisible. In my hands, I gripped the straps of three different school bags, their weight digging into my shoulders. Mitsuki's bag was heavy with kendo gear; Kaiju's smelled of expensive cologne; Sakura's was impeccably light, holding only what she deemed worthy of her time.
"Did you see the look on the instructor's face?" Mitsuki laughed, his voice booming across the narrow street. He walked with a natural swagger, the sunlight catching the gold in his hair. "He didn't even see the strike coming. One second he's talking about 'form,' and the next, my wooden sword is at his throat."
"You're a beast, Mitsuki," Kaiju said, leaning against a lamp post as we waited for the light to change. He looked at me for a split second, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hey, Parasite. You still got my phone in the side pocket? Don't let it scratch against Mitsuki's gear."
"I have it," I whispered. My voice was small, used to being filtered through the noise of their greatness.
For sixteen years, this had been our rhythm. We had been born in the same hospital, lived on the same block, and shared the same sandbox. I remembered the days when we were five, huddled under a plastic slide during a rainstorm, promising to be the "Four Musketeers." Back then, the weight was shared. But as we grew, they became giants, and I... I stayed the shadow. I was the one who finished their homework so they could practice sports. I was the one who fetched their drinks so they could talk to girls. I was the "Bookworm," the useful habit they kept around because I made their lives easy.
"The arcade is going to be packed," Sakura said, her voice like glass—beautiful, but sharp. She didn't look back at me. She never did. She was looking at the neon sign of the arcade half a block away. "Mitsuki, if you don't get the high score on the new machine today, I'm never letting you hear the end of it."
"Watch me," Mitsuki grinned.
We stepped onto the crosswalk. I remember the smell of exhaust, the sound of a distant train, and the feeling of the heavy bags shifting on my back. And then, the world broke.
The pavement didn't just crack; it dissolved into a sea of neon-blue light. A geometric circle, miles wide, erupted beneath our feet. I saw the faces of commuters turn to masks of horror before they were vaporized. Gravity vanished. My stomach did a sickening flip as the school bags floated out of my hands.
"Akira!" I heard someone scream—and then the silence swallowed us.
When my eyes opened, the sun was gone. In its place was a vaulted ceiling so high it seemed to hold its own weather systems. The floor was polished obsidian, cold enough to freeze the blood in my veins.
"The summons is complete!" a voice boomed, echoing like thunder.
I struggled to my knees, my head spinning. Around me, Mitsuki, Kaiju, and Sakura were already standing. They looked different. Their school uniforms were glowing with a faint, rhythmic pulse. In front of us sat a King on a throne made of jagged, black glass, surrounded by thousands of knights whose armor clattered in unison as they knelt.
"Mage! Appraise the Saviors!" the King commanded.
A man in robes of starlight stepped forward, holding a massive, pulsating crystal. He struck it against the obsidian floor, and four holographic screens exploded into the air.
Name: Mitsuki | Level: 30 | Title: Hero | Rank: [LOCKED] Name: Kaiju | Level: 25 | Title: Assassin | Rank: [LOCKED] Name: Sakura | Level: 20 | Title: God Maid | Rank: [LOCKED] Name: Akira | Level: 1 | Title: Bookworm | Rank: [LOCKED]
The King let out a breath of pure greed. "Potential beyond measure! Level 30 at birth? We have truly summoned gods!"
"My King," the Mage whispered, leaning in. "The Appraisal Stone cannot check their Ranks yet. In this world, the soul is a seed. They must level up at least once or twice before the system can determine if they are S-Rank or something higher. But look... at the fourth one."
The King's eyes traveled from the "Hero" to me. His lip curled in a snarl.
"Level 1? A Bookworm?" The King stood up, his jagged throne screeching. "This is a mistake. A summoning error. He is a parasite, leeching off the mana of the three true Saviors. He has no level, no talent, and his title is a mockery of my court."
"Please," I gasped, reaching out. "I don't know where we are. Mitsuki, tell them! We've been together for sixteen years!"
I looked at Mitsuki, waiting for him to step forward. Waiting for him to challenge the King. Waiting for the "Hero" I had served my whole life to save me.
Mitsuki looked at his hands, feeling the Level 30 power surging through his veins. He looked at me, and for the first time in sixteen years, I didn't see a friend. I saw a stranger.
"The King is right," Mitsuki said, his voice cold and steady. "Honestly, Akira... I was wondering when I'd finally get to drop the baggage. You've always been a parasite, Akira. Clinging to our fame because you couldn't do anything yourself. You won't be carrying our bags in this world. You're just dead weight."
"Go rot with your books," Kaiju added, a cruel smile crossing his face.
Sakura simply turned her back. She didn't say a word. Her silence was the final nail in my coffin.
"Guards!" the King roared. "Throw this garbage into the S-Rank Book Dungeon. Let the Tome-Beasts see if his 'reading' can save his life!"
A guard kicked me in the ribs, sending me sprawling toward a purple, swirling vortex in the floor. As I fell, the King tossed a rusted, chipped iron dagger and a stale bag of bread at me. "A gift for your final moments!"
I plummeted. I fell through darkness for what felt like hours, the laughter of the palace fading until there was only the sound of my own heartbeat. I hit the floor of the dungeon with a bone-shattering thud. The trauma, the betrayal, and the sheer weight of the 16 years of lies finally broke me. I passed out in the dust.
Hours? Days? Time didn't exist in the Tome-Crypt.
When my eyes finally snapped open, the world was pitch black. The air smelled of ancient parchment, dried ink, and rot. I lay there for a long time, staring into nothing. My mind went back to the sandbox. I remembered sharing my lunch with Mitsuki when he forgot his. I remembered staying up all night to write Sakura's essays so she could sleep. I remembered 5,840 days of loyalty.
The silence of the dungeon was heavy, pressing against my eardrums. Every quiet breath I took felt like an insult to the boy I used to be. I thought about how they looked at me—not with hatred, but with nothing. To them, I wasn't even worth an emotion. I was just an old toy that had finally been discarded.
I struggled to my feet, my bones aching. My school uniform was shredded, the fabric hanging off me like rags. I reached out blindly until my fingers brushed against something cold and metal. The rusted dagger.
I gripped the hilt until the rough metal bit into my palm. The pain was grounding. It was real. Unlike the sixteen years of "friendship" that had turned out to be a hallucination.
"For sixteen years..." I whispered. My voice was no longer the small, timid sound of the boy who carried bags. It was a jagged rasp, echoing off the stone walls like a death knell. "For sixteen years, I was their shadow. I was their brother. And they threw me into this hole like I was nothing but a piece of trash."
I thought of Mitsuki's sneer. I thought of Kaiju's laughter and Sakura's cold, silent back. Every memory of our childhood together—the games, the school days, the promises we made—now felt like hot coal in my chest.
A cold, dark fire began to brew in my gut. I didn't care about the monsters in the dark. I didn't care about the [LOCKED] Rank or the Level 1 status that floated like a ghost in the corner of my vision. All I could see were their faces. I could see the way the golden light of the palace reflected in their eyes as they watched me fall.
"Enjoy the light while you can," I snarled into the abyss. I looked up at the ceiling, seeing through the miles of solid rock toward the palace where the "Heroes" were likely feasting at the King's table. "Celebrate your new titles. Drink your wine. Believe that you are gods."
I took a step forward, my shoes crunching on the ancient dust of the dungeon. The fear was gone. It had been replaced by something much heavier, something much older.
"Because I'm not staying in this hole," I promised the darkness. "I am coming back to the outside world. I am coming back for every second of those sixteen years."
I raised the rusted dagger, pointing it toward the invisible surface above. My eyes, though I couldn't see them, began to flicker with a strange, predatory intensity.
"And when I do..." I let out a low, terrifying laugh that shook the very air. "I will kill all of you."
The vow was made. The "Bookworm" was dead. The parasite was gone. In the deepest, darkest corner of the world, the real story was just beginning.