A young man, 28 years old, wearing a suit and dark eye bags, sat silently at his desk. The office was nearly empty, the soft hum of fluorescent lights above buzzing like the thoughts in his tired mind. Another long day of work. Another file. Another sacrifice.
Yet, despite the weight dragging under his eyes, a gentle smile appeared on his face. He glanced at the wedding ring on his finger.
"Just a little more," he whispered to himself. "I'll make her happy. We'll have a future—kids, a home. This is all for her."
When he finally finished his work, it was 10:13 PM. He packed his things, sighed, and stepped out into the cold night. Rain began to fall gently as he reached the bus stop. Moments later, the bus arrived. He entered, sat at the very back, and stared quietly out the foggy window.
Doubt crept in again—his wife had been distant lately. Cold, distracted. But he shook his head. "I'm probably just overthinking it."
He arrived at his apartment. Standing before the door, he smiled faintly. "I'm home." He turned the knob quietly, thinking she might be asleep.
But as he entered the living room, everything changed.
At first, it was just faint sounds—panting, moaning. He froze.
He told himself it was the TV. Maybe she was watching something. But then he heard voices—familiar ones. His boss's voice... and his wife's.
> Hana (panting, moaning):
"Why are you so good at this, Tiro-kun?"
> Tiro (laughing):
"Because I'm a perfect husband for you, Hana. Unlike your average husband Taro—he's just a slave in my company."
> Hana (lustfully):
"Don't mention that idiot. I don't even like him anymore. Honestly... I regret marrying him."
Taro sat on the couch in silence. His expression was blank, empty. The words carved through his heart, but he didn't flinch. He waited, listening, sinking deeper into a cold, distant void.
When the moaning stopped, the voices didn't. He heard them laughing. Mocking him. Criticizing him.
His eyes were now hollow.
He stood.
And walked.
Step...
Step...
Step...
Each step echoed through the apartment, slow and deliberate. He stopped in front of the bedroom door, his face devoid of emotion.
Creek...
The door opened.
And there it was.
The scene of betrayal.
His wife, Hana, under Tiro—the same man he worked for, trusted. Tiro grinned like a devil. Hana looked shocked, but not ashamed.
Taro's voice came out cold, detached, like a man who had already died inside.
> Taro (expressionless, cold):
"So... this is what you wanted, huh? I gave you my life. I worked every day just to make you smile. But you chose this?"
> Tiro (grinning):
"So what? You gonna call the cops? I have more power than you, Taro."
> Taro (calmly pulling out his phone):
"Already did. Let's cut ties, Hana. You too, Tiro."
> Hana (crying):
"Taro! Please! Don't send me to jail! You love me, remember?"
Her begging meant nothing now. She was just a stranger in his eyes—a mask shattered by her own hands.
Taro reported them both for adultery and workplace abuse. Investigations followed. His company was exposed for shady dealings. Tiro was arrested. So was Hana. The company collapsed. The media had a field day. What once was his entire world turned to ash.
A few days later, Taro stood on a bridge, watching the sunset, a cigarette between his fingers.
> Taro (thinking):
"Cause and effect… huh. I guess I've got a bit of a trust issue now."
Years passed.
Taro took a job at a convenience store. Quiet, simple work. That's when he met Shiju—a bright, energetic woman with a smile that lit up the store. She warmed his heart. Slowly, he allowed himself to love again.
After nine years, they married.
But fate wasn't kind.
Less than six months into their marriage, he discovered Shiju cheating.
Again.
Taro's heart cracked again—but this time, it didn't bleed. It just went silent.
He gave up on marriage. On trust. On love. He moved to a small apartment and lived alone, isolating himself from the world. His days became quiet shadows of what they used to be.
Until one night—
KNOCK. KNOCK.
He opened the door.
It was Kazu, his old best friend.
Kazu needed help. Said his wife was mad at him for working too much. Taro, always the loyal friend, agreed to talk to her.
He visited their luxurious apartment.
The door opened.
She was beautiful—an albino woman with sharp eyes.
He entered.
He spoke.
Time passed.
And then—
The police came knocking.
He was arrested.
Charged with rape and harassment.
In shock, he realized it was all a setup. His best friend had framed him—out of hatred for his own wife. Taro had been nothing but a pawn in a twisted plan.
He was sentenced to 38 years in prison.
Inside, something inside him broke.
Whatever faith he had left in people—snapped.
---
38 years later, a gray-haired Taro walked out of prison. A free man, but hollow.
He moved to the mountains. Alone. Farming. Living with only animals as company. No words. No human contact.
Just the quiet sound of wind through trees.
There, he died.
Forgotten by the world.
---
In a void of nothingness, a soul floated.
Taro.
Waiting.
And then—
A light.
Warm.
Blinding.
He opened his eyes.
Tiny fingers.
Soft skin.
He was crying.
A baby.
He had been reborn
The first thing he heard was about to sell him.
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