The sky over Tokyo was an impossibly pristine, cinematic blue on the day Sato Yuki (佐藤 祐基) was born.
In this alternate Earth, the air felt just a bit too crisp, the cherry blossoms fell at a perfectly regulated pace, and the entire world carried the clean, vibrant aesthetic of a high-budget slice-of-life anime.
Yuki’s early childhood was peaceful, spent in a quiet suburban neighborhood.
When he was seven years old, sitting on the wooden porch of their home while a gentle spring breeze rustled the yard, his parents decided to explain the meaning of his name.
His father tapped the kanji for Sato (佐藤), explaining it was a proud, common lineage rooted in cooperation and helping others.
But it was his mother who took his small hands in hers, smiling warmly as she explained his given name.
“Yuki,” she said softly, her eyes reflecting the bright afternoon light.
“We chose the kanji Yu (祐) because it means divine protection, a blessing to guide you through the darkness. And Ki (基) means foundation, a strong base or root. We want you to be a blessed foundation for others, Yuki. A sturdy, unshakeable ground where people can find safety when their world gets stormy.”
At twelve, that sturdy ground shattered.
A sudden, violent traffic accident tore his parents away from him in an instant.
Yuki survived the crash, but the tragedy completely dismantled his worldview.
The bright blue skies and pristine streets suddenly felt deeply artificial, like a beautifully painted stage backdrop that cared nothing for his grief.
He was placed into a quiet municipal orphanage, an environment that naturally bred a quiet, observant cynicism.
For five years, Yuki lived a detached existence, focusing entirely on his schoolwork and maintaining a quiet presence at the orphanage.
To make a living, pay for his own future expenses, and give back to the orphanage that took care of him and the new family of kids he made there, which helps him overcome his loss.
Yuki leaned heavily into the memories of his past life.
He sat down with a cheap, secondhand laptop and began writing out various sci-fi works he had seen in his original world.
To the unsuspecting citizens of this peaceful Japan, his complex stories were viewed as groundbreaking, brilliant masterpieces of fiction.
The books became an instant literary sensation, securing his financial stability.
It was during his first year of high school, when Yuki was sixteen, that a new child arrived at the orphanage.
She was a nine, a girl who looked almost spectral against the mundane backdrop of the common room.
She possessed impossibly pale skin and incredibly long, chaotic silver-white hair that caught the light with a faint, iridescent rainbow tint.
When she looked up, large, striking red eyes shone with a piercing, analytical intensity.
Her biological parents had abandoned her, terrified by her cold demeanor and a superhuman intellect.
Yuki approached the silent girl, pulling a notebook from his pocket, and wrote down his name in clear, distinct strokes.
He slid the paper over to her and introduced himself.
“I’m Sato Yuki,” he said gently.
The girl stared down at the kanji, her irises tracing the written strokes before whispering in a flat, monotone voice.
“Sato Yuki… Yu for divine protection, Ki for foundation. A name that wishes to be a sturdy ground for others. A statistically improbable burden for an ordinary human to carry.”
Upon hearing her, a cold jolt of recognition shot straight down Yuki’s spine.
She was a living, breathing character from a series he recognized, Shiro.
***
Befriending Shiro proved to be an immense challenge, as she deeply struggled to understand unpredictable human emotions.
She remained isolated until she stumbled upon the raw manuscript of a new sci-fi series, Yuki was typing out on his laptop, Steins;Gate.
Shiro became absolutely fascinated by the hyper-logical mechanics of time travel and the clinical manner of altering reality through cause and effect.
This intricate logic became the perfect bridge between them.
She began sitting by his side while he wrote, dissecting the temporal data with her flawless mind.
Yuki quickly grew to regard her as a precious little sister, fiercely protecting her.
He tried to help her connect with society, but Shiro stubbornly refused.
To her, the outside world was a boring, poorly designed game filled with irrational variables, with the sole exception of Yuki, whom she clung to as her unshakeable anchor.
Following the revelation that characters from other worlds were in his reality, Yuki investigated Japan’s political and educational systems.
His research exposed a startling truth.
The nation’s infrastructure was completely fractured, ruled by three massive conglomerates that held absolute authority over their respective territories.
The Shinomiya Conglomerate ruled the Kanto Region and the Tokyo Core with an iron fist.
As a traditional aristocratic dynasty, they controlled the nation’s banking systems, political cabinets, and judicial branches.
Their crown jewel, Shuchi’in Academy, was a hyper-elite institution where the children of prime ministers and global CEOs were groomed to inherit the country.
The Shinomiya family ran their territory on absolute merit and bloodline purity.
Meaning any shift in Tokyo’s economy could be found and traced directly back to their main estate.
The Momobami Clan dominated the Kansai Region, completely controlling Osaka and Kyoto.
Unlike the politically minded Shinomiyas, the Momobamis ruled the underworld, high-stakes real estate, and massive underground financial syndicates.
They established Hyakkaou Private Academy as a testing ground for their brutal philosophy.
In their territory, standard laws felt distant; everything was governed by a strict, ruthless gambling hierarchy where a single lost bet could reduce a student or a business owner to a sub-human “house pet” stripped of all human rights.
The Sanzenin Financial Group held absolute sovereignty over Hokkaido and Northern Japan.
Holding an unimaginable fortune that allegedly defied global economic calculations, the Sanzenins dominated the advanced technology sectors, global shipping empires, and military logistics.
They funded Hakuo Academy, an ultra-exclusive boarding school built on a massive, high-tech campus.
The Sanzenin family operated like a silent, untouchable kingdom in the north, preferring to manipulate global markets from behind closed doors rather than engage in petty political squabbles.
Outside these three territories, public life felt strangely fractured.
Chiba’s Sobuu High School masked an isolated social climate, while Beika’s Teitan High School was plagued by constant murder and mysteries.
Yuki himself attended Kamiyama High School, a peaceful public school famous for its Classic Literature Club.
***
Author’s note:
Instead of continuing my previous novel, I’m now writing a new one…
Damn, that’s bad…
hehe…
Well, what can I say besides sorry, but I need to take this idea out of my head…
Sooo…
Here we are now…