“So this is the reason you ended up in another world?”
After listening to his flat, almost detached account, Xia Jiuwei frowned slightly, her tone carrying disbelief.
She was about to mock it, but the words stopped right at her lips.
—Right.
What was the meaning of life?
Isn’t everything she’s doing now also just endless upward climbing?
To grow stronger, she purges the resentment of the Under-Reality.
To avoid being restrained, she keeps forcing herself to become even stronger.
But—
What exactly is she living for?
That question made her fall silent for the first time.
“What happened after that?” Her tone softened without her noticing. “You said you found the meaning of your life… what was it?”
Yamada fell silent for a moment, then slowly spoke.
He once found his own reaction almost laughable.
“Reincarnated into another world”—that was the kind of fantasy only students believed in.
But as he laughed, an indescribable emptiness quietly surfaced in his chest.
He was only twenty-seven.
Yet it felt as though he had already drifted several centuries away from the version of himself who once stayed up late watching anime.
He walked through that barren world.
No direction. No purpose. Just walking.
As he walked, he suddenly remembered the curiosity he once had as a child toward the unknown.
That simple anticipation—was long gone.
If he disappeared, would his company notice?
Would the world change at all?
Or—would nothing happen at all?
Then, he saw a door.
A solitary door standing in the middle of empty land.
He opened it.
Beyond it was the staircase of his company building.
He blinked, confirmed he wasn’t mistaken, and walked through.
He walked back to his desk, turned on his computer, and kept working overtime as if nothing had happened.
At the time, he truly believed it had all been a dream.
Until the next day.
“Good morning.”
He greeted his seniors as usual.
No one answered him.
He thought they were just busy and said it again.
Still no response.
He walked up to a coworker and waved his hand.
No reaction.
He touched their shoulder.
It was as if nothing had ever touched them.
Very quickly, he understood.
It wasn’t that people were ignoring him.
They simply couldn’t perceive him at all anymore.
He could still work, clock in, and write reports.
Everything seemed normal.
But no one could notice him.
Not invisible—just erased from perception itself.
A month passed.
No one had noticed he was gone.
No salary was issued.
He began to drift.
Even though his savings were still enough,
He realized he had forgotten how to live.
Another month passed.
He did nothing.
Just watched others live.
He saw a painter staying up all night in a cramped apartment, fingers frozen, still carefully refining every stroke.
He saw a teacher being grabbed by students after class, answering a simple question, yet letting out a relieved smile.
He saw someone carrying a backpack, buying a random train ticket, leaving without a destination.
For the first time, he realized there were so many ways to live in this world.
“Success” was perhaps never the only answer.
And yet, he still couldn’t find his answer.
Not because there were too few choices—
but because no life seemed to require him.
He wandered the city with a backpack.
His presence was almost zero, but that wasn’t much different from before—after all, outside of work, no one had ever truly noticed him.
It was only now—when no one could see him at all—that he finally understood:
So many things in his past life were never truly what he wanted.
He didn’t necessarily want to enter a top university.
He didn’t necessarily want to join a highly competitive company.
What he truly wanted… might have simply been to live quietly in this world.
A normal, uneventful life, day by day.
But for so long, under the expectations and gazes of others,
he had trapped himself all along.
The streets grew quieter.
One more bridge, and he would be back at his apartment.
And then—he saw her.
A young woman standing by the railing.
About to jump.
No one else around.
Just like him back then—no one would notice.
He rushed forward instinctively.
And in the moment she fell, he grabbed her and pulled her back.
“…Huh? Is someone there?” The woman froze.
Her reaction startled him—someone could actually sense his existence?
“I’m here!” Yamada quickly responded.
But she didn’t seem to hear him.
She walked toward the railing again.
In desperation, he took out a small notebook and wrote:
“I’m here.”
He placed it on the ground.
“Eh?” The woman picked it up.
“Sorry for the trouble… but I really don’t want to live anymore,” she sighed.
He quickly wrote:
“Don’t do this. Maybe you just haven’t found anything worth living for yet.”
She gave a bitter smile.
“But my life is already a mess. No one even wants me to live… I don’t know if things will get better, but I really can’t hold on anymore.”
He paused, then wrote:
“It’s night… have you eaten?”
She blinked.
“…I think I’m a little hungry.”
He pushed his own dinner toward her and wrote:
“This is mine. Take it first. If you really plan to die, promise me—come back tomorrow night.”
She looked at the words in silence.
“…Alright.”
Her chest tightened, then slowly eased.
The next night.
Same bridge.
She looked down at the notebook:
“Don’t die yet. I still have questions. You can die after I’m done asking.”
She sighed helplessly and leaned on the railing.
“Fine. Ask whatever you want.”
“What’s your job?”
“Vtuber.”
“Nice. I used to watch those streams.”
At first, her voice was calm.
But gradually, it began to tremble.
“I really loved this job…”
“I thought I could bring happiness to people.”
She lowered her head.
“But then fans started fighting each other.”
“I didn’t even know what happened, but I got dragged into it.”
“Other VTuber antis started attacking me.”
“And then… even my own fans started hating me.”
Her voice grew quieter.
“They said I didn’t care about them.”
“They said I changed.”
“They said I didn’t deserve support.”
“The company only cares about numbers.”
“Streaming hours kept increasing, pressure kept growing.”
“But no one asked me…”
She inhaled sharply, her voice breaking.
“Whether I could still hold on.”
She crouched down and started crying quietly.
After a long silence, Yamada wrote:
“So you were going to jump? Or just tired—come back tomorrow.”
She laughed through tears.
“…I’ll do it tomorrow instead.”
In that moment, he saw how lonely she was.
Just like his own.
And then—
he found a purpose.
To keep her alive.
Day after day.
“Don’t die yet, I have questions.”
“What’s your name?”
“Shiraishi Kotou.”
…
“It’s cold. Take this scarf. If you jump now it’ll get dirty—come tomorrow instead.”
…
“My antis are getting fewer.”
…
“I hit 500,000 subscribers.”
…
“Yamada, where do you live?”
…
“How do you even work like this?”
Days passed.
The world around Yamada slowly gained color.
For the first time, he felt—
that his existence was needed.
Even if that existence itself remained unseen.
That day was her birthday.
He bought a cake.
But got delayed by construction.
By the time he arrived at the bridge, it was already late.
“Don’t jump—!”
She turned toward the voice.
And saw a young man.
For the first time, she truly saw him.
She smiled.
“You think I’m still here to die?”
Yamada froze.
“…You can see me?”
They both froze—
then laughed.
But the next moment—he disappeared again.
“Where did he go?” she muttered.
He could only write again:
“Cake for you. Happy birthday.”
She smiled brightly.
“Thank you.”
Then she paused.
“…Hey, have you ever thought about dating someone?”
Yamada froze completely.
“But you can’t fully see me… or even perceive me.”
She looked at the words and said softly:
“I came here to die.”
“But now… I keep finding myself waiting for you every day.”
Later, they lived together.
Opened a small studio.
She streamed, he took freelance work.
Eating together, facing public pressure together, living together.
Even though she could sense him,
he always felt like he owed her.
“I’m sorry… I can’t give you a normal relationship.”
No hugs. No kisses.
She only smiled.
“It’s okay. Being with you… I feel at ease.”
But Yamada didn’t give up.
He began searching for a way to “restore his existence.”
He discovered that occasionally, he could briefly become visible.
And every time, she would tightly embrace him.
Until one day.
While out shopping, he felt a strange presence.
He followed it.
And then—
he was pulled back into the Under-Reality.