Kenji opened his eyes to the sound of faint whispers and the rhythmic scratching of chalk on a board. The world around him was blurry at first, the sunlight filtering through the windows almost too bright. As his vision cleared, he realized he was sitting at a desk. Not just any desk—a school desk.
"What the hell…" he muttered under his breath, blinking a few times. His surroundings became more defined—a typical Japanese classroom, complete with rows of students, notebooks, and the faint scent of chalk dust in the air.
Kenji felt a chill run down his spine. This wasn't his world. The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. He had been at home binge-watching Dandadan, his favorite anime, before crashing on his couch. But now, he wasn't on his couch. He was in the anime.
The teacher, a middle-aged man with tired eyes, droned on about mathematics at the front of the class. Kenji's gaze instinctively scanned the room, trying to make sense of his situation.
That's when he saw him.
Ken Takakura, male main character from Dandadan, was sitting just a few seats away, looking as disinterested in the lecture as ever. Kenji's breath hitched. It wasn't just a dream—he was here, in Dandadan.
Kenji's mind raced, trying to piece together how this was even possible. He glanced down at his hands, noticing they were slightly calloused, as if they belonged to someone who had wielded a weapon for years.
"Okay, deep breaths," he told himself, taking in the surreal scene. "I've been reincarnated into Dandadan. That much is clear. But why me? And… why do my hands feel like I've been slicing through enemies for decades?"
His thoughts were interrupted by the bell signaling the end of the period. Students began shuffling out, chatting among themselves. Kenji noticed Ken Takakura standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. For a moment, Kenji thought about approaching him, but he hesitated. What could he say?
Instead, he decided to lie low for now and figure out the extent of his situation. His memories from his previous life were intact, and as far as he could tell, no one here knew he didn't belong.
The rest of the school day passed in a blur. Kenji did his best to avoid attracting attention, keeping his head down and pretending to take notes. When the final bell rang, he hurried home—or rather, to the home that seemed to belong to this version of him.
To his relief, it was empty. The small apartment was modest but cozy, with just enough space for a bed, a desk, and a few personal items. Kenji flopped onto the bed, finally allowing himself to process everything.
"So, I'm in Dandadan, and I have no idea how or why," he mused aloud. "But… this can't be a coincidence. What do I have to work with?"
He sat up and closed his eyes, trying to focus. That's when he felt it—a surge of energy coursing through him, like a current of electricity waiting to be unleashed. He clenched his fists, and sparks of blue light flickered around them.
"Godspeed," he whispered, recognizing the ability instantly. It was one of his favorite powers from the countless anime he had watched, and now it was his.
But that wasn't all. Kenji felt an almost instinctive connection to something else. He stood and moved to the center of the room, imagining the weight of a blade in his hand. The air shimmered for a moment, and suddenly, a katana materialized in his grip.
The weapon felt natural in his hand, as if he had trained with it for years. He swung it experimentally, and the blade moved with precision and speed that defied logic.
"This is insane," he muttered, a grin spreading across his face.
Kenji couldn't resist the urge to test his newfound abilities. He stepped outside into the alley behind his apartment, ensuring no one was around to see him.
First, he focused on Godspeed. Closing his eyes, he imagined his body as a conduit for electricity. When he opened them, the world seemed slower, almost frozen, as blue energy crackled around him. He took a step forward and found himself at the other end of the alley in less than a second.
"Fast. Really fast," he noted, excitement bubbling within him.
Next, he turned his attention to the katana. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned it again, marveling at how effortlessly it appeared. Kenji swung it at a pile of discarded boxes, and the blade sliced through them like they were made of air.
But it wasn't just about the weapon. Kenji could feel an innate understanding of combat techniques—footwork, strikes, even counters. It was as if he had been training under a master swordsman for years.
"This is more than just power. It's knowledge," he realized. "Whoever—or whatever—sent me here didn't just throw me into this world unprepared."
As the adrenaline began to fade, Kenji leaned against the alley wall, his mind once again racing with questions. Why was he here? Was it to help Ken Takakura and the others in their fight against supernatural forces? Or was there another reason entirely?
He knew one thing for sure: he couldn't stay in the shadows forever. If he wanted answers, he'd have to step into the chaos of Dandadan headfirst.
And maybe, just maybe, he'd find a way to make a difference in this strange new life.
"Alright, Ken Takakura," he muttered with a smirk. "Looks like you've got a new classmate. Let's see where this goes."