My Favorite Character Steps into Reality
The first character from my game had popped out into reality. Honestly, it was such an outdated trope these days—not something you'd even see much in manga or web novels anymore. So naturally, suspicion was my first reaction. Am I dreaming right now? In fact, maybe the real me had passed out after smacking the back of my head on the floor when my chair tipped over. Staring at my favorite character right in front of me, those thoughts bubbled up, and to check if this was a dream or reality, I pinched my own thigh hard.
"Ow!" It hurt. Tears-in-my-eyes hurt. The pain shot through my leg sharp and fierce, blowing away any lingering buzz from the booze in seconds.
Tachibana Saori, who'd watched my whole solo circus act, crouched down in front of me and asked, "You okay, Sensei? You didn't hit your head when you fell, did you?"
At first, she'd laughed it off as me being goofy, but my continued weirdness must've worried her.
"Y-yeah. I'm fine."
I blurted it out in a daze, but even though this was definitely our first meeting, it felt like we'd known each other forever—I was talking to her so casually. She called me 'Sensei.' Maybe in her eyes, I looked like the "Sensei," the protagonist from Red Asterisk.
"Good, that's a relief."
She gave a small smile, like she'd been holding her breath, then stood up with an "Up we go—" and glanced around my 24-pyeong rental apartment in Pyeongtaek. "So this is where you live now, Sensei? It's not much different from that cramped teacher dorm you had before. You eating properly?"
She sounded just like a mom dropping in on her son's place after ages, straight-up asking if I was taking care of meals.
I nearly said Of course, but then my eyes landed on the convenience store lunchbox sitting on my computer desk, and I clamped my mouth shut.
Saori followed my gaze, spotted it, and made a face like Really? She rolled up her sleeves and declared, "First things first, I'll make you some food. We can talk after."
What? Cook now? In this timing? The nonstop curveballs left me flustered.
She strode into the kitchen with total confidence, raided the fridge for whatever was there, and whipped up doenjang soup. And true to her Japanese roots, she made it Japanese-style, with the paste silky-smooth and dissolved perfectly.
One sip of the steaming-hot bowl, and an exclamation slipped out before I knew it. "Whoa."
It didn't beat my mom's kimchi jjigae, but someone cooking for me like this? It'd been forever. Just tofu and a bit of seaweed for solids, but I wolfed it down with rice like it was gourmet.
Saori watched me eat, chin in hand, then asked casually, "How is it? Good?"
"Yeah. Good enough I'd eat it every day if I could." I mumbled it into my rice bowl.
"Hehe."
She smiled, pleased, and when I polished off the bowl in record time, she even peeled an apple we'd gotten as a Chuseok gift—for dessert, carved into a cute bunny shape.
Belly full and a bit more relaxed, I speared a piece with a fork and pondered. What do I say now?
Truth be told, it still felt unreal. Just another day grinding at the office, dragging my tired ass home, scrolling YouTube till an ad hit me and I installed the game—then bam, my waifu jumps out of the monitor. If I told anyone, they'd think I dreamed it after nodding off.
That's when Saori, sitting across from me, kicked things off with a playful tone. "Sensei, you look like you've got a ton of questions for me."
"Uh, yeah. That obvious?" I scratched my cheek, embarrassed.
She shrugged. "I get it. Ask away—whatever you want."
She was being cooperative, so I cut straight to it. "So... you're Tachibana Saori, right?"
She placed a hand on her chest. "That's me, Tachibana Saori. What, do I look like an alien or a monster instead of some pure-hearted beauty in your eyes, Sensei?"
"No way."
That long black hair with a faint purple sheen you never see IRL, those ruby-red eyes. The unwavering confidence, the aura of a ruler—it all matched. She'd matured a touch, but no doubt: this was Tachibana Saori from Red Asterisk, one of the students. Student council president at Wippermanshy Alliance School, one of the Big Three academies in Academy City. One of just twelve Special Grade espers in the whole city.
I already knew all that, but hearing it from her hit different. I swallowed hard and fired off the next question. "How'd you get to this world?"
Hand still on her chest, she declared proudly, "Beats me."
"...What?"
Her deadpan answer left me stunned, but she explained calmly. "I was doing my usual work when a white window popped up in front of me. Your face was on the other side, Sensei. Felt drawn to it, so I stuck my hand in—and got pulled through. That's it."
"Then... how do you go back?"
"No clue."
Mountain after mountain. Then, as she finished, she realized something and turned it back on me. "Wait, 'this world'?"
Ah, she didn't even know that part. I hesitated, then decided to soften the truth. No way she'd take "you're a game character" easily.
"This isn't your world, Saori. No mega-corps with nation-level power, no espers, no Academy City. In simpler terms, it's another world—an isekai."
"Isekai?"
Like I had at first, she looked shocked. But true to her genius setting—even top-tier in all of Academy City—she took the cold reality in stride, quicker than most.
After a beat, she asked coolly, "So this is a different world from mine, and you're actually someone who came from there?"
"Right."
"No wonder. I threw everything I had at finding you, but not even a trace."
She muttered it, pulling a smartphone from her pocket. Never-seen-before model—probably Academy City tech.
"No signal at all... So where exactly is this? Japan, at least?"
I explained to the confused girl. "Neighboring Korea. Japan's still there, fine as ever."
"Dimensional travel... Unbelievable."
She sighed, powering off the screen. She'd tested it quick, but no surprise—foreign-world gadget wouldn't work right.
Watching her, a question hit me. "Hang on, when'd you learn Korean? You're fluent."
No foreign accent the whole chat—native-level, easy.
"What're you talking about? I've been speaking Japanese the whole time."
She blinked like I'd said something nuts.
"Huh?"
Our words weren't lining up. To confirm, I asked her to repeat. "、？"
Listening hard, yeah—definite Japanese. Why could I understand her so naturally before?
Some auto-translation force between us, I guess. Principle unknown. And I wasn't alone; Saori looked amazed too.
We kept chatting experiments till the clock hit midnight. I stood first. "Sorry, it's way too late. Gotta crash."
Tomorrow was a weekday, no holiday—had to clock in unless I burned PTO.
I explained, and she nodded agreeably. "Got it. That's enough for tonight."
Wrapping up brought another issue: till we figured out her way home, she'd need a place to stay. High odds: my apartment.
At least there's a spare room. I'd turned it half-storage, but a cleanup would do. Weekend job, though—too late tonight.
No choice.
I smacked my lips. "You take my room tonight. I'll sofa it in the living room."
"That'd be rough on you, Sensei. I'll take the living room."
"Guest is king, y'know."
"Pretty sure that's not the saying..."
She grumbled but caved to my stubbornness.
"See you tomorrow, Sensei." She waved, heading to the bedroom with my bed.
I watched her go, then flopped onto my prepped futon in the living room to end the wild day. Alarm at 9 AM for work tomorrow.
Office drone life sucks. Manga-plot stuff happens for real, and here I am stressing the commute. Grumbling my woes, I shut my gritty eyes.