The First Death
I knew something was off with my struggling. I needed to get out of the darkness fast to lock the main gate. Didn't the rules explicitly say to lock the Main Gate quickly? But it wasn't until over ten minutes had passed—by my estimate—that the unease turned into real dread. Something was definitely wrong.
Did I break a rule? But all I did was simply...
I crossed the playground straight. That's when I realized what I'd done wrong. The special notice for exam period had changed that part. I wasn't supposed to cross straight. I hadn't missed it the first time I read it. I'd definitely noticed the change and memorized it. But when I entered the playground, maybe emotions got the better of me, and I forgot for a moment. And this was the result of that lapse. I was trapped helplessly in the darkness.
★ Death doesn't even come. It's just dark.
After stopping, I hadn't moved an inch. I hadn't even turned my feet. I stood frozen like a statue. I was terrified that even the slightest movement would make me lose my way forever.
Think. As long as I was thinking, I was alive here.
There were two hypotheses for my current situation. First: I'd been transported to an entirely new space. A pitch-black void, another realm. If that was true, escape was impossible. I didn't know the size of this space, or if there was anything besides the darkness. I might try exploring, but high chance I'd have to make an extreme choice.
Second: My vision was just blacked out, but I was in the same place. In other words, I was right in front of the Main Gate but couldn't see it. The more hopeful hypothesis. Relatively speaking, compared to the first. Thinking back to when my vision cleared and I was standing at the Main Gate, it wasn't impossible.
I bent my knees, squatted, and touched the ground with my hand. My sense of touch was intact; the surface felt rough. Would the ground in front of the Main Gate feel like this? People gravitate toward hope when they see it. I decided to assume the second hypothesis was correct and act on it.
That left only one best option: retrace my steps exactly.
If I bumped into stairs, the hypothesis would be proven. I'd be crossing the playground again, but since I'd already broken the rules once, what did it matter? First, I had to turn precisely around. Even without sight, I had touch.
Squatting, I placed my left hand between my legs and my right at the base of my tailbone on the ground, then rotated 90 degrees. I repeated the motion once more. That should turn me accurately backward.
Standing after turning, I took a deep breath. I wasn't sure if I could walk straight. But I'd once tested my balance by walking with eyes closed, and I hadn't veered off. I had to trust that now.
The moment I stepped forward, there'd be no turning back. But my situation was already the worst. To head toward the lesser evil, I stepped out.
About sixty steps to the stairs. I desperately hoped something would hit my foot after sixty.
...58, 59, 60.
Nothing. But I didn't panic yet. Tension shortens your stride. Patiently, I walked more.
...68, 69, 70.
Still nothing underfoot. I wasn't religious, but in that moment, I prayed to every god—from the Christian one to the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
...78, 79, 80.
The hardest moment for a person isn't despair itself. It's when hope flickers out, unleashing an emotional storm. Tears welled up against my will, ready to burst.
...88, 89, 90.
I stopped. I couldn't accept reality. My breathing grew ragged. My heart pounded wildly. I bowed my head. No one to hear, but I swallowed sobs anyway. I didn't want to believe this pathetic end was mine.
What now? After crying out the grief, my insides felt hollow. I just stood there blankly.
Maybe walk some more. No urge for extremes yet. One step, two, three.
Suddenly, something caught my foot, and I tumbled. The unexpected impact left no time to react. Even sprawled awkwardly, I couldn't grasp what happened. I groped with my hands to identify the object.
This was... stairs.
I'd given up after just three steps. Laughter burst out. Joy? Absurdity? I couldn't tell.
The second hypothesis was right. Just my vision swallowed by darkness. I was blind, plain and simple.
Groping the stairs, I crawled up on all fours. I didn't want to let go of the welcome sensation, but parting comes. After the stairs, I stood on two feet again—a human walking.
Hands outstretched, a short walk brought the Central Entrance door. Once inside, I planned to head straight to the Guard Room for safety.
Groping the wall, I found the Guard Room door and turned the handle.
Click. Something wrong. It wouldn't open.
Click, click. The handle, usually smooth, grated like it was catching.
In disbelief, I tried repeatedly, but failed. The Guard Room rejected me.
Calm down. Better than before, right? Think where I could go now.
Only one place for help: the Infirmary. Problem: how would its youkai diagnose me? If it said I was healthy, I'd be walking into torture willingly.
But what choice did I have? Nothing else.
Groping the wall, I headed to the Infirmary. Right next door, easy reach. The door wasn't locked; I entered.
Immediately, the Infirmary youkai's mechanical voice: "Not a patient."
As it finished, a shrill vibration started—like a drill powering up. Worst-case confirmed.
But I'd prepared for this. "Insomnia! Can't sleep again, here for sleeping pills!"
The vibration stopped. Silence meant it was checking me. But then, despair: "No pickup authority."
"...What?"
Why no authority? Because of the prior refusal? Questions swirled, but vibration resumed, drowning them.
Instinct drove me back to the door, but too late. My right arm twisted violently and tore off. I pitched forward. The pain swallowed my scream.
"Patient acquired. Commencing treatment."
Ignoring its mad words, pain overwhelmed me. Consciousness faded.
This time, I really thought I was dead. But consciousness awoke again, unyielding.
Still pitch black. Body bound, immobile.
"Hi?"
A voice echoed from somewhere. Impossible to pinpoint—everywhere at once.
"Not gonna talk?"
Only then did I realize my mouth was free.
"Who are you..."
"Me? Who knows?"
The voice sounded like a little girl's.
"So many names. Most not mine, though."
Instinct screamed: not ordinary.
"Try a smarter question?"
"...Did you save me?"
"Nope."
Instant. So I died? This the afterlife? Voice the reaper?
"You're fun. Didn't expect you'd make it to the Infirmary and die there."
"...I died?"
"Yup. Shock."
Dead, huh. All that struggling for nothing.
"Not nothing. You piqued my interest."
It answered my inner thought. Chills.
"What do you want?"
"Quick on the uptake. Nothing much. Keep struggling. Like now."
"...Didn't you just say I died?"
"Right. Died. But you'll get a second chance."
"......Second?"
Though only voice, something laughed.
In this world, humans get three lives.
You just used one.