Prologue

I'm a 34-year-old homeless and jobless person.

I'm plump and ugly, a nice guy who regrets how he lived his life.

I wasn't homeless three hours ago; I was a veteran NEET who hadn't left my room for the past year.

However, my parents had passed away without me noticing.

As a NEET, I didn't even attend the family meeting, let alone the funeral.

And in the end, I was chased out of the house.

I banged loudly on the walls and floor, flailing about as if no one was at home, for no one spoke up for me.

I was masturbating in my room on the funeral day when my siblings suddenly rushed in, dressed in mourning clothes, and declared that they were severing all relations with me.

I ignored them, and my younger brother took a wooden bat and destroyed the computer I valued more highly than my life.

Half-crazed, I lunged at them, but my older brother has a dan rank in karate, and I was viciously beaten in turn.

I sobbed and begged for forgiveness in an unsightly manner, but I was chased out the door and didn't even have time to change my clothes.

I endured the throbbing pain in my chest (most of my ribs were probably broken), and walked unsteadily on the streets.

My siblings' rebukes from when I left the house resounded in my ears.

They were harsh insults that were difficult to take in.

My heart was completely broken.

What did I do wrong?

All I did was masturbate to a mosaic-less loli video during my parents' funeral...

What should I do next?

No, my mind does indeed know.

Find a job or part-time job, then a place to live in, and buy some food.

How should I go about this?

I don't know what I should do to find a job.

Hmm, I still know about going to "Hello".

But though I'm not showing off that I have more than 10 years of experience in staying indoors, how the heck should I know where Hello is? Furthermore, even if I go to Hello, I've heard that it only introduces you to a job.

I'd have to bring a resume, go to the recommended place, and take an interview. I'd have to go for an interview in a dirty sweatsuit covered with sweat and blood.

Heck, if I can get employed, even I wouldn't employ a fellow wearing something crazy like this. Maybe I would sympathize with him, but I definitely wouldn't employ him.

Are there any shops that sell resume papers?.

Stationery stores? Convenience stores?

Maybe a convenience store might have them if I do go there, but I don't have any money.

And then, what will I do if I settle all of that?

Assuming that I do get lucky, manage to borrow money from a financial institute, get a change of clothes, and buy some resume papers and stationery.

I've heard that you can't complete the resume if you don't record your residence.

It's over. Right at this moment, I finally found my life reaching its end.

...Hah.

It started to rain.

It was the end of summer when it started to turn cold. The icy rain pierced through the clothes that I'd worn for I don't know how many years, mercilessly stealing my body heat away.

... If I could start over from the beginning.

I couldn't help saying that.

I wasn't born as such a rotten human.

I was born as the third son of a somewhat wealthy family. Two older brothers, one older sister, and one younger brother. The fourth among the five siblings. In primary school, I was praised as clever despite my youth.

Even though I wasn't considered great at studies, I was good at games, a brat who's pretty good at sports. I was even once the center of attention in my class.

Then in junior high school, I entered the computer club, consulted magazines, and saved enough money to assemble a computer. I stood out amongst my family, none of whom could write a single line of code.

The turning point in my life was high school... no, it started in the third year of junior high. I was so busy tinkering with the computer that I neglected my studies. Thinking back on it now, that was where it all started.

I thought that learning stuff was useless for the future. I felt it couldn't be used in real life.

In the end, I entered the most idiotic high school, considered the worst in the prefecture.

Even so, I thought it was nothing.

I felt I would succeed if I got serious, and that I was different from those other idiots. That was what I thought.

I still remember the incident back then.

While queuing up to buy lunch at the cafeteria, there was a fellow who cut the queue.

I grumbled a few sentences as if I was acting out of righteousness. That was due to my strange pride and the chuunibyou personality I had.

Unfortunately, he was my senpai and one of the two most dangerous people in the school.

I ended up being punched in the face until it was swollen, stripped naked, and tied in front of the school.

He took a lot of pictures, and easily distributed them all over the school...

I fell to the bottom of the hierarchy in an instant, got laughed at by others, and even got the nickname of "Foreskin boy"'.

I didn't go to school for a month and became a hikikomori. Upon seeing me like this, my father and brothers said irresponsible words to me like, Bring out your courage, do your best.

I hadn't been the one at fault.

Nobody in that sort of situation would continue to attend school. There is no way.

Thus, no matter what anyone else said, I adamantly continued my shut-in lifestyle.

I felt that the peers who knew me were all looking at my pictures, mocking me.

Even if I didn't go out, as long as I had the computer and internet, I could spend away my time. Due to the internet's influence, I got interested in many things and did a variety of stuff. Assembling plastic models, painting figurines, creating weblogs. My mother was willing to support me and it seemed she would come up with the money to help me out for as long as I requested it.

But I was sick of them all in less than a year.

I lost my motivation whenever I saw someone being better than me.

To others, I was merely fooling around. But as I was alone with so much time, hiding in my dark shell, I had nothing else to do.

No, even when I think back on it, that was merely an excuse.

At the very least, it would have been a better choice to become a mangaka and start publishing terrible webcomics or to become a web novelist and start posting novels.

Many people who shared similar circumstances did something like that.

I made fun of and slighted those people.

Mocking their creations, thinking of myself as a critic, saying things like "It's worse than sheet", criticizing them.

Even though I did nothing at all...

I want to go back.

If it's possible, I want to go back to primary school, my life's highest point, or back to the middle of junior high school. No, even if it's one or two years ago. Even if it's a little bit of time, I could still do something with it. Even though I gave up halfway through, I could start over no matter what.

If I put in my utmost effort, even if I didn't become the best, I could at least be a pro.

"..."

Why didn't I do anything up till now?

I once had a lot of time. Even though I didn't leave my room during that time, I could have done a lot of things as long as I sat in front of the computer. Even if I couldn't make it to the top, I could have stayed somewhere in the middle and continued to put in effort.

Manga, novels, games, or even coding. If I had put in every effort, I would have been able to make small accomplishments. Even putting aside whether the accomplishments could be turned into money...

Ah, never mind. It's useless.

I never worked hard before. Even if I went back to the past, I would probably trip to a similar place, and stop at a similar place. I ended up like this because I could never cross the hurdles a normal human could.

"Hm?"

Somewhere in the heavy rain, I heard people arguing.

What's that commotion about?

It's annoying. I don't want to be involved. Even though I was thinking that, my feet wanted to head over to them.

"---- That's why, you----"

"You're the one-----"

Entering my sight seemed to be three high school students having a lovers' spat.

Two guys and one girl. They were dressed in the now uncommon collared student uniforms and a sailor uniform.

It seemed there was some sort of a harem war going on. The taller boy was quarreling with the girl, and the other boy was trying to mediate, but the two quarreling parties weren't listening at all.

(Hmm, I had something like that before)

I once had a somewhat cute childhood friend in junior high. She might have been considered cute, maybe a four or five. She participated in the track and field club and had short hair. She had the kind of appearance that would cause two or three out of ten people to turn back. However, I was very passionate about a particular anime and felt that those in the track and field club should have a ponytail, so I thought she was an ugly girl.

However, her home was near mine and we frequently shared the same class during primary school, so we went home together more than once. We had plenty of chances to talk together and also bickered at times. It's a pity. In my current state, just listening to the words "junior high", "childhood friend", and "running club", is enough for me to cum 3 times.

By the way, I heard that my childhood friend got married seven years ago.

I overheard this rumor from the living room, where my siblings were talking.

Our relationship wasn't bad. We were able to talk without reservations since we'd known each other from a young age.

I don't think she liked me, but if I'd studied hard and entered the same high school, or if I'd joined the track and field club and entered the same school by recommendation, I might have raised a flag. If I make a serious confession, we might even be dating each other…

I could have flirted and bickered with her like the trio, and we might even have done perverted things in an empty classroom after school.

Hah, what eroge is this?

(Come to think of it, these people are really damned riajuus. Just explode already… Hm?)

Suddenly, in that instant, I realized.

A truck was charging towards the trio at a tremendous speed.

Also, the driver of the truck was lying prone on the wheel.

He was driving in a sleep-deprived state.

And the three still hadn't noticed.

"D-d-d-Danger!!"

I tried to warn them by yelling, but I hadn't used my vocal cords fully for over ten years, and the cold rain and the pain in my ribs caused them to shrink further; The teeny-weeny, trembling voice I eked out vanished in the rain.

I must save them. I have to. At the same time, I thought: why do I need to save them?

I had a gut feeling that if I didn't save them, I would regret it five seconds later. I would absolutely regret it if I saw those three people getting smashed into a bloody pulp by a truck.

Regret not saving them.

Therefore, I had to save them.

In any case, I thought I would probably starve to death by the roadside soon after. At least for that moment, I hoped to have some satisfaction.

I didn't want to be left regretting at the very end.

--I ran and hobbled along towards them.

My legs were not moving as I wanted, as I had not moved them much for the past ten years. It was the first time in my life that I wished I had exercised more. The broken ribs were pulsing with excruciating pain, hindering my every step. It was the first time in my life that I wished I had taken more calcium.

It hurt. It hurt so much that I couldn't run.

But I still ran. Ran.

I was running.

The arguing boy hugged the girl when he noticed the truck approaching in front of his eyes. The other boy had his back facing the truck and had not noticed, was merely surprised by his companion's sudden action. I grabbed his collar without any hesitation and used all my strength to pull him back. The boy was pulled away and fell to the roadside, out of the truck's path.

Good. Two more to go.

Just when I had this thought, the truck was already in front of me. I had just planned to pull them from a safe distance, but as I pulled them back, the recoil caused me to move forward.

It was to be expected, and it wouldn't even have mattered if I weighed over 100kg. As a result of sprinting with my trembling legs, I got dragged forward by the momentum.

I felt a light behind me the moment I got hit by the truck.

Was that the rumored light of the flashback before death? I couldn't see anything during that short instance. It was just too fast.

Did it mean that I did so little in my life?

I was sent flying onto a concrete wall by a truck 50 times heavier than I was.

"Puhh...!"

The air in my lungs was pushed out. My lungs spasmed, demanding air after the hard running.

I couldn't utter a sound. But I wasn't dead yet. The accumulated fat was probably what saved me...

But once I thought that the truck appeared in front of my eyes again.

I was flattened like a tomato between the concrete ground and the truck.