Reincarnation is bullshit

If this was a joke it wasn't funny. A long sigh dragged from Mica's mouth, staring at the sky with deadpan eyes. He held up his arm and sighed again, even longer, burying his face in his hands. Definitely not a joke. His arm was familiar but it looked toned, not bulky but definitely not the twiggy arms he had from his old body.

Yeah. His old body. About 10 minutes ago he had been sitting in his room, re-reading his favorite online novel, "Revenge on the Demon King." Though its concept wasn't that groundbreaking, Mica was very invested in the characters.

The premise was that the hero lost the boss fight, and lost everything. But he was transported back in time to his baby self, so he had another chance to rewrite his fate. He became stronger and so did his companions. Mica loved the characterization and growth of the hero and his companions, especially the hero.

According to his previous life's experience, however, he assumed he was now in the novel since a sudden portal opened up beneath in him, spat out into another world and body.

Mica rolled over and once again stared into the stream right next to him. Its reflective surface showed a cute face.

Dark skin sprinkled with freckles over his nose and cheekbones, big purple eyes, and wavy black hair with white streaks.

He'd actually be enjoying this if this weren't the character he transmigrated into. The assassin, sent from the Demon King to kill the hero.

Mica laid back down and thought about his options. Unfortunately, no matter what route he went down, death met him at every turn.

You'd think the hero would help, but the hero became scarier after his second reincarnation and might cut Mica down as soon as he sees his face- depending on which point of the story he transmigrated into.

Revealing he knew the future through the future wouldn't be his best bet either. He'd either be written off as crazy or way too suspicious.

Failure and desertion were not tolerated in the demon army either, which was fairly obvious.

Suddenly voices floated from several feet away, the sources hidden by the shrubs.

"There's a stream up ahead! Let's stop here for the night, Vivi."

"Sounds good. I'll catch some game."

Mica inwardly groaned. Vivi. That was the name of one of the hero's companions. Fuck it. Here for a good time, not a long time. He started crouched to his feet when he suddenly found a sword at his neck. Guess this was the second reincarnation.

"Don't move. State your purpose," Mica had to laugh. Why ask when he already knew the answer? "Why are you laughing?" The hero sounded fairly agitated.

"Look- if you want to slit my throat, it'd be easier to just do it instead of asking pointless questions." The hero paused. He was perplexed. It wasn't a response he'd expected. His head slightly tilted to the side, white hair falling into his lost gray eyes- though they looked greenish from the grassy surroundings.

"It would be beneficial to you if you'd just answer my question."

"That would depend on my answer, wouldn't it." Mica answered cooly.

"...Yes."

" Well to be honest, I'm not sure."

"Stop playing games. Give me a straight answer."

"I lost my memory. I have no idea what my purpose is." This was a risky move but technically, it was true. And it was the oldest trick in the book.

The hero eased the sword from Mica's neck slowly. He looked amused.

"You're awfully calm for someone who lost their memory." Mica smiled and shrugged.

"I wouldn't know."

"I suppose you wouldn't. Here." He offered a hand, which Mica took.

He stumbled into the hero, feeling his solid chest bump against his shoulder, warm and solid. It felt reassuring, being held up by his favorite character. And much needed after the stress from the last hour. He restablized himself.

"Sorry."

"No problem." The hero returned the smile. Then held a tight grip on Mica's wrist as he brought out some rope. He bound Mica's arms together with it. Mica looked on knowingly. He figured this would happen.