Redo of a Romanceless Author’s Life Devoid of Love; Another Chance at Youth Chapter 1

Chapter 1. A Nosy Neighbor (1/4)

I raised my hand up and squeezed my forehead as a sudden intense migraine assaulted . When it eased up, I took in a slow steady breath of air, opened my eyes, but suddenly froze up.

For an instant, I saw a bloodstained knife in my chest, but I blinked and it faded away as if it had been no more than a lie. It was but an afterimage or illusion of the mind perhaps.

“Haaaaaaah. Was that so sort of shitty nightmare or sothing?” I mumbled to myself in a low voice.

Stabbed? ? What sort of nonsense is that?

Who would stab in the chest?

I don’t interact with anyone, ever. I don’t even have any friends or enemies at that either. Why would I have such a nonsensical nightmare anyway?

Just who the hell would I be so concerned about, that I’d have a nightmare about being stabbed in the chest with a knife?

In my forty years of life, I can say with confidence I’ve never made the mistake of dating a single girl, so it’s not like I have a psycho ex who I’d worry about stabbing .

Whatever, forget that. What ti is it anyway? Is it almost ti for my shift yet?

I should get… up?

It was only now my brain registered that I was currently seated in a chair. I wasn’t lying down on my bed. More specifically, I was looking down and I saw the edge of a desk, below that between my legs, a chair I was not accustod to seeing. Though I was not accustod to seeing it, it still felt sowhat nostalgic. It was sothing I hadn’t seen in a long ti.

When I recalled when I last saw a chair so similar, it was no doubt so ti back in high school. High school… they were days now long gone. Back then, I didn’t know just how much better things were compared to the mundane, uneventful, repetitive lifestyle of an adult with pointless responsibilities.

High school really wasn’t so bad when I look back on it. I may have kept it all to myself, but it was still fun since it was much easier to enjoy my hobbies and not have to worry about things like being fired for missing a few days of work with a company that wants to work you to death.

Repeating a year of school or failing a class? Hah! Looking back on it now that didn’t sound bad at all.

I did pretty well back in high school from an academic standpoint so I proceeded to university as that was what society considered the correct thing to do, but in the end, it all was for naught. Eventually, soti after I graduated from university I found a job of sorts I enjoyed, but it had nothing to do with anything I studied.

If only I’d found it much sooner. I could have started it much sooner, even as far back as high school if I wanted. I could have completely forgone university and I would have made so much progress.

Alas, there was no point crying over spilled milk. What was done was done. It was impossible to change the past. Besides that, the answer I found turned out to be the complete opposite of what I was actually good at in high school. Reading was sothing I never did back then. The most reading I managed was manga. The thought of reading a novel was enough to put to sleep.

To think that I’d one day co to write them. Never in my wildest dreams could I have predicted that.

I was far from what I would consider creative. I had no sort of imagination. But, it was a very slow and gradual process.

One day after running out of things to watch and mangas to read I thirsted for more fictional stories. I craved them. I was addicted to forgetting about this world and seeing the worlds inside other’s heads.

It was the only ti I could experience human-like emotions. When it ca to the real world, my ability to portray emotions was zero. I was a man with an emotional quotient in the negatives.

Things like feelings at so point beca an alien concept to . Only through other worlds did I ever feel any semblance of human emotion. At least, they allowed to emulate them even if I couldn’t truly feel them myself.

When the day ca where I could no longer be satisfied with the worlds inside other people’s heads and how they always ca to an end or a standstill frozen in ti, I embarked on a long journey to create countless worlds of my own.

When my thoughts reached this point, another sigh escaped my lips. Sadly, I couldn’t keep reminiscing over all of this as there were more pressing issues at hand.

Such as… where the hell I was. The chair and edge of the desk, the culprits of my little trip down mory lane, I by no ans had any recollection of falling asleep here. If that was the case, had I been moved by soone in my sleep?

My eyes slowly raised up and the world around expanded. It was the sight of a rather familiar empty classroom. Six rows and six columns of desks and chairs lined the room. I was in the seat at the far back corner beside the window.

It seed that I was… in a school for so reason.

I hadn’t been anywhere near a school for seventeen years now. Why the hell was I here of all places? Didn’t I have a shift to worry about? Wait, do I?

What’s the date anyway? Was it maybe my day off and I’d paid a trip to a school for so reference material and I fell asleep here? No… that’s definitely impossible. If I wanted reference material I’d simply search for so images online.

Thinking about finding out the date, my hand instinctively wandered down to my pants pocket at my sides for my phone.

Unfortunately for , my phone was missing. Did I drop it? My eyes lowered back down to the ground as I scanned my surroundings. It wasn’t anywhere to be found. Had I simply forgotten it when I left ho? Or had soone stolen it while I’d slept?

I suppose there wasn’t any real way to tell.

I took a look up at the clock on the wall and confird the ti. It was 8:40 in the morning. Well… this was more than just sowhat concerning. If school is currently in session I might be in a bit of trouble. Classes would be about to start.

What would happen if a forty-year-old man was found pretending to be a student?

I shivered at the thought.

Creepy.

I’d definitely be branded a creep.

Just when I was coming to terms with reality and thinking of imdiately fleeing, as if the world was not on my side, the door slid open.

My heart sank to rock bottom. This was the worst. If a student or teacher saw here I was screwed. However, the instant my eyes landed on the person behind the door, my eyes narrowed into small slits. It was more than just difficult for to accept the identity of the figure before .

Mr. Oz! That was impossible! My eyes were surely deceiving … he’d long been retired. I specifically rembered this detail since he retired the sa year I finished high school. Did he co out of retirent in his 70s? No… he by no ans looked to be in his 70s.

An unsettling feeling began to sink in.

This familiar classroom that I thought to just look similar to one of my old classrooms... along with the appearance of this teacher… what did it an?

Wait, was I even awake right now? Was this one of those weird dreams inside a dream? Where you wake up once only to find out you were still in a dream?

I looked doubtfully at the teacher entering the room with a bit of wariness.

When he entered our eyes t.

“Oh, what a surprise, I didn’t expect a student to beat to the classroom on the first day of classes. That’s usually never the case for . Kids are usually lost looking about left and right while trying to find the correct room right about now.”

Like a deer confronted by bright headlights, I remained completely still unable to move an inch.

Was this… really a dream?

It felt far too surreal. Seeing a teacher I hadn’t seen for so long that is. mories of the ti I spent in my first year of high school resurfaced. It mostly consisted of just the things I learned and my typical daily routine. I didn’t exactly have many mories that involved other people. I was more or less a friendless isolated loner. For , it was rise and shine, head to school, get on with my classes, return ho, watch ani, eat, go to sleep then repeat. That was how I typically spent those days. For , being alone never really bothered . I fully enjoyed my alone ti, much more than when I was around others.

I was a man of solitude. I didn’t believe in things like love or friendship. My peers and teachers ant nothing to back then. They were just people I figured I’d spend a few years with before I never saw them again. Passersby in life, no more, and no less. Any form of relationship was worthless in my eyes.

Seeing my lack of response, the teacher before didn’t seem mad.

“What’s your na?” He patiently asked.

“My… na?” I mumbled to myself so quietly I didn’t expect him to hear.

“Yes, your na so I can check you off for attendance. Might as well get that done now.” It seems he’d sohow heard and was quite attentive, able to hear even the quietest of students.

“Ran.”

Mr. Oz looked down at a paper in his hand and said, “Ron? Hmmm… I don’t see your na here. What’s your last na?”

“Sozen.”

“Sozen? Sozen… Sozen… ah here it is. Oh! Ran, as in R, A, N? I thought it was with an O, no wonder I didn’t find you.”

“Uh… yeah, there’s no O. It does sound pretty similar to Ron though. Lots of people make that mistake.”

It’d been a long ti since I had to have this conversation with soone. I can’t rember the last ti I had to speak to soone in the flesh. It’d been years since I locked myself up in my room and started working remotely from ho. It’d reached the point where there was practically never a need for to talk to others anymore.

That’s beside the point though. Just what the hell is with this situation?

Is this a dream or not? It feels too real for it to be a dream. It feels more like I’m actually reliving my first encounter with my first horoom teacher in high school.

A deep frown ford on my face while I tried to better understand what was going on.

I’d really like to wake up if this was a dream. I’m not particularly interested in reliving the past in a dream.

Well… assuming it was a dream that is.

An absurd notion popped into my head. I was reminded of the most recent story idea I’d been playing around with in my head.

The premise was that of soone who’d only discovered what he wanted to do much later on in life and returned to his youthful years to get a head start. It was sothing of that nature at least. It wasn’t fully fleshed out or anything though. I hadn’t really reached the point where I’d thought of characters and their backstories for classmates and teachers or anything.

Considering how I never paid attention to those sorts of things in my youth, I could hardly even rember what any of my own classmates were like either. Even rembering their faces was difficult for right now. As for their nas… I had no idea what they were. If I saw them again I felt like I’d recognize them, but that was the extent of my mories from the days I spent in school.

After a short break in our little exchange, Mr. Oz looked at again after he scribbled sothing down on the paper in his hand.

With a smile he introduced himself, “It seems you aren’t lost and didn’t enter the wrong classroom. I was hoping you had so I could say I was the first to get here. I’ve never not been the first to arrive on the first day of classes, it seems my long record has been broken. I can only bla myself for getting complacent. I’ll have you know, I used to get here an hour early on the first day of class when I initially started teaching. Back then, this would never happen.”

“I can leave and co back if you want to keep your spotless record if you want.”

“Hahaha! It’s fine, it’s fine. I’d just be seen as a petty teacher if I were to worry over such little unimportant matters.”

I felt a sense of déjàvu. This conversation was strangely nostalgic. If I wasn’t mistaken, this was precisely how things played out back then on my first day of high school as well.

I took a deep breath in and cald my nerves. I relaxed all the muscles in my body and let the tension in my shoulders unwind. Back then I always wore a cool, composed, expressionless face. I never let any sort of emotions leak out. Even at the age of forty, things hadn’t changed much.

“Oh, that’s right, Ran, I almost forgot to introduce myself. I will be your horoom teacher for the year. My na is Mr. Oztscheki, but most students just call Mr. Oz for short.”

“Right… Mr. Oz.”

“Anyway, other students should start showing up soon. I should start preparing for class. If you ever need anything or want soone to talk to about anything, don’t be afraid to co and see .” He said that with a big smile on his face.

“Sure...” I responded without showing much on my face.

He was quite the friendly approachable teacher.

“You know, you should probably smile more. You’ll be more approachable to your classmates if you do.”

“Smile more? Maybe… but that’s not sothing I’m very good at.” In my last year of high school, I’d practiced putting on a fake smile since I knew it was sothing needed in the world of scummy adults, but I was never very good at it. I always looked stiff when I tried to put on that fake smile. My eyes were dead and devoid of expression after all. Any smile with my dead eyes would appear that way.

“If you’re not good at sothing you can always practice. With enough practice, I’m sure you’ll be able to.”

Easier said than done.

“You don’t seem convinced.”

“That’s… not the case… I’m sure you’re probably right. Practice makes perfect.” From the experience I’d gained with writing stories over the years, I could agree with that saying to a certain extent. You could certainly beco better at sothing with practice, but that didn’t an you’d ever reach a satisfactory level let alone perfection.

“It’s good if you understand that.” Seeming satisfied with my response, Mr. Oz said no more and took a seat at the long teacher’s desk at the front corner of the classroom beside the window. He’d begun his preparations for today’s class. It seed he was also taking so more ti to try to familiarize himself with the student nas in his class as his eyes were moving from left to right across the paper he’d just confird the spelling of my na with.

He likely didn’t want to botch any student’s na if he took attendance out loud today. He could just get the students to do self-introductions or sothing if he was that worried about it. If I rembered correctly though, that day he read out the nas and had students raise their hands if they were there or not. As for whether there were self-introductions… I couldn’t rember at all. I hadn’t cared to learn about or pay attention to any of the other students in my class after all.

In my eyes, I was alone in this world. There weren’t any other people. The one I knew best was probably my teacher as I did pay attention to what was being taught at the very least to a certain extent.

While thinking over things in my head, ti slowly flowed forward. I was feeling a bit tired so I folded my arms on top of my desk and rested the side of my head on top of them. I looked up at the clear sky outside the window, the sun shining brightly in the distance.

If today was the first day of class it would an it was September. The season, Autumn. Even though I thought this was nothing more than a dream, I was unable to wake up. Well, even if it were one, there’s not much of a rush to wake up either way. Maybe I could get so ideas for the story I’d been playing around with from this long ago dream of the past.

After a while blankly staring at the scattered clouds drifting along their way in the sky, the sound of the door sliding open ca from behind again.

Since I was in a comfortable position I couldn’t be bothered to turn my head to check on the identity of the person who’d entered. It was most likely another student. But why would I care? They had nothing to do with .

There was my story I guess, but I was so comfortable I just didn’t feel like budging an inch.

I could hear footsteps approaching closer to but paid it no mind.

I thought they would take a seat at a desk closer to the front of the class, but against my expectations, I’d been incorrect in my judgnt. They’d instead co to a stop directly to my side.

I could have turned to look at this point, but I instead closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. I didn’t particularly want to interact with them. I’d rather just keep my distance and take the chance to observe the happenings in this dream as though I were an uninvolved third party.

Of course, things never played out as you wished they would.