"I'm back..."
Welcomed by JOJO wagging its tail, Jinguu Akira stepped through the door.
"Woof... woof..."
The only response came from the Labrador at his feet, barking softly.
"Haha! So it's just you here, JOJO. You're the most loyal one after all..."
Kneeling down with a hint of loneliness, he ran his hand through its soft, white fur, earning a gentle lick from its little tongue.
"But from now on, don't bark randomly, alright? Wouldn't want to disturb the neighbors."
The white Labrador tilted its head, as if it understood... or maybe not.
Patting its head, he sent it off to play and changed into his slippers.
Sometimes, he truly wished that when he said "I'm back", there would be a gentle woman standing at the entryway, greeting him with a warm smile and saying softly: "Welcome home."
But fantasies would always remain just that—fantasies. Until they become reality, they're nothing more than the idle delusions of a bored mind.
Beyond the entrance lay the living room. Since the house was a standalone, two-story building, the first-floor living space was quite spacious. The most eye-catching thing in that room was undoubtedly the Bösendorfer grand piano placed in the center. Aside from that symbol of elegance and wealth, everything else looked completely ordinary—like any regular home.
Though it was furnished, there were no extravagant tiles or luxurious furniture. Living alone, Akira had repurposed what would normally be the family dining area into a place for his piano. As for meals, he took those in his own room.
Everything was so ordinary—it almost made him feel like he had returned to his life before crossing over. That sense of normalcy... was oddly comforting.
Besides that grand piano, all the furnishings in the room together probably didn't even cost as much as a single chandelier from that luxury apartment in Chiyoda. But it was precisely that ordinariness that made the space feel warm. Excessive opulence only created distance.
He gently touched the piano, then made his way upstairs to the room at the very back—the bedroom he had specifically chosen for its size.
Unlike the rest of the house, which felt spacious and empty, this room—large enough to accommodate three or four people without feeling cramped—was filled to the brim with his things.
A massive bookshelf hugged the wall. A double-sized Simmons bed. By the window sat a large desk, holding a desktop computer and two laptops. Next to it, a workbench stood idle.
Akira wasn't some interior designer—just filling this room had already been a headache. That workbench didn't serve any purpose; it was just there to take up space and make the room feel less hollow.
"This feeling... it's nostalgic..."
Leaving that luxurious apartment in Chiyoda and coming to this humble home filled with an ordinary family's atmosphere, Akira stood by the window, stretched, and leaned against the sill, gazing out at the view.
He had chosen this house on purpose. From this balcony, there were no towering skyscrapers obstructing the horizon. That sweeping view gave him a sense of release—as if his soul could finally breathe.
This place felt like a typical small Japanese town. Not quite birds singing and flowers blooming, but peaceful enough. It lacked the cutthroat deceit of city life.
Even within this district, the house sat near the outer edges—partly because Akira enjoyed the quiet, and partly because the prices were cheaper. He wasn't lacking money in this life, but it was all from that so-called "father of his," not money he'd earned himself. Until he could support himself, he still had to be mindful.
Because it was somewhat remote, even the nearest two high schools required a long walk to reach.
One was Toyosaki Academy, a private school. The other, Suimei Academy of the Arts High School—clearly affiliated with some university that focused on the arts. Outside this area, neither held any reputation.
At any rate, they had nothing to do with elite institutions.
What people did love to gossip about, however, was a castle-like building on a hill in the opposite direction—a grand European-style estate that looked like something from another world. Akira had seen it once, from afar. Probably just some rich guy's mansion.
Of course, Akira wasn't the least bit envious. Building a place like that on the outskirts of Tokyo? Big deal. True wealth meant doing what the Sanzen'in family did—seizing land right in the heart of Tokyo!
"But I guess that kind of thing only exists in anime."
He laughed at his own delusions.
This was reality. Trying to carve out land in the city center just to show off—only a fool would attempt something so brazen.
Spinning around twice in his cushy executive chair, Akira propped his legs up on the desk and leaned back with his hands behind his head, humming cheerfully.
This kind of life—being alone, free from responsibility or pressure—was something he'd always dreamed of. Like a hardcore shut-in just waiting out life. People might look down on it, but sometimes, that kind of life was truly enviable.
The thing that had moved him most about this reincarnation wasn't becoming some rich heir.
It was that he'd become nine years younger.
Only someone who's faced the real world could understand how precious youth is. The chance to relive high school and college… for Akira, that was the most wonderful part of all this.
"This time… I can't leave behind any regrets."
Unconsciously, he thought again of that woman—Jinguu Kanade—and a wave of irritation washed over him. He slapped his cheeks, took a deep breath, and slammed the power button on the computer like he was picking a fight.
Even he knew it—he was just running away from everything. Drowning himself in mundanity and the internet to numb the truth, to cover up all the ugly things he had done.
"Tch... Talking about starting over, huh? Look at me now—can't even face reality. What makes me any different from a scumbag? Sorry, Makoto, I misjudged you. At least you paid with your life."
As the familiar boot-up screen lit the monitor, Akira opened the browser.
Ever since arriving in this world, he'd only chatted with strangers on LINE. Not once had he even visited a website. Only now, as the old, shut-in feeling returned, did he remember those comforting things that helped him run from reality.
Like—anime.
"Good thing I still remember the site..."
Muttering to himself, Akira typed "NICONICO" into the browser. Back in the Heavenly Empire, he had to use a VPN to watch it, and even then the speed sucked. Now, finally, he could view it freely.
But the screen that came back from the browser made him freeze, mouth agape.
"What...? It's gone?! The site doesn't exist? That's impossible. It's just a website—I couldn't have forgotten it!"
It was in that moment that Jinguu Akira finally realized—
This world wasn't the one he came from.