"Ah... AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGG!!"
Hajime screamed with everything in his lungs and leapt back nearly three meters, landing clumsily in the wet sand, scrambling away from the figure in front of him.
The white-haired guy didn't flinch. Instead, he sighed and muttered under his breath,
"Yeah… that's what I'd call a normal reaction."
Hajime pressed his back against the nearest rock, chest heaving, his breath ragged.
The stranger ran a hand through his damp hair, clearly unimpressed.
"What can you do…? Calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you or anything, alright?"
"...Huh? R-Really?" Hajime replied, voice trembling.
"Yes."
...
...
They stared at each other for a moment.
The red-eyed stranger raised a curious brow. Hajime, despite the initial terror, started to notice something odd—aside from those devil-red eyes, the guy didn't look dangerous. No monstrous aura. No dark energy. Just… a drenched teenager standing there, looking mildly annoyed.
"I-I'm sorry!" Hajime blurted out, bowing his head slightly. "It's just that… first I was at home and then—then all of that happened, and the pain and—what even was that?!"
He paused. The pain was gone. His body felt... fine. Not even sore.
"I don't know what you're muttering about," the white-haired guy replied, squinting. "Also—what's with those weird clothes?"
"Huh? Oh! Uh… sorry, it's my pajamas. I-I was at home when all this happened so I didn't really have time to change. I-I wasn't expecting to get isekai'd or whatever..." Hajime explained, face burning with embarrassment.
"Pee…jamas?" The stranger repeated the word slowly, like it was completely foreign to him. He shrugged. "It looks pretty comfortable. I like it."
"Huh…? Wait…" Hajime blinked and looked around, finally taking in his surroundings. "Where… where are we? Why am I even here?"
The white-haired boy narrowed his eyes slightly. "You seriously don't know? Did you hit your head or something?"
"What?" Hajime stammered.
"I'm asking you. Did you hit your head?" The guy groaned and scratched the back of his neck. "Damn it… how do I even explain this…"
"Huh…?" Hajime tilted his head, still dazed.
Then suddenly, the stranger perked up. He took a deep breath, hopped in place twice like he was about to give a presentation, then pointed one finger dramatically at the sky.
With a wide grin, he declared:
"My name is Clover Rexus! And right now, you are standing in the capital city of Xinre—heart of the kingdom of Sinyu!"
...
He held the pose for a moment.
Then slowly lowered his hand, scratching his cheek awkwardly.
"Uh… nice to meet you?"
"Wha? Ah—eh—h-hold on. Now you're just talking nonsense. Xinre? Sinyu?"
"It's exactly what it sounds like. You're in Xinre," the white-haired boy replied plainly. "Uhm... I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to say in situations like this. But tell me—do you seriously not remember anything? Like, nothing at all? I mean, how do you not even know you're in Sinyu? Shit, this is bad. I can't just let you wander around like this…"
Clover muttered something under his breath and started biting his nails, his brows furrowed in frustration.
"Okay… At the very least, do you remember your name?"
"Uh? O-oh yeah! My name's Hajime Akitaka… I-It's nice to meet you," he said awkwardly, still trying to make sense of what was happening.
"Hajime…? Huh. Weird name."
"You're one to talk," Hajime mumbled under his breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing! Nothing at all!"
"...Right."
"..."
"Anyway, we should probably get you out of those clothes," Clover sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just follow me. I know a place."
"O-Okay…"
As they walked deeper into the city, Hajime finally saw it with his own eyes.
The truth.
It wasn't a dream.
It couldn't be.
Either he'd somehow traveled back in time—a theory he discarded immediately, especially given how much Clover knew, and considering history was his favorite subject—or…
There was only one explanation left.
"I've… been summoned… to another world…"
He swallowed hard.
"Heh… Hehehe… This has to be a dream, right?" he whispered, forcing a laugh. "I'm not gonna pinch myself. That movie stuff is ridiculous. Besides, this feels way too real to be a dream. Maybe a lucid dream? Still, this place… it's so strange…"
It looked like a Chinese city straight out of a historical drama—stone streets, crimson lanterns casting a warm glow, and buildings with sloped tiled roofs, their intricate woodwork polished by time. The air smelled of spices, burning incense, and the faint scent of rain-soaked stone. Voices carried through the streets, hushed yet vibrant, the hum of everyday life moving steadily around them.
And then Hajime noticed something else.
People were staring at them.
Wait—no. Not at them.
They were staring at Clover.
A prickling unease crawled up Hajime's spine. Why are they looking at him like that?
Don't tell me... Did I just get buddy-buddy with a wanted murderer? Or worse—did he trick me and he's going to kill me?!
His breaths quickened. His chest tightened.
Panic.
"I was just at home... Everything was fine... And now—now I'm here. I don't want this. I want to go home… I don't understand what's—"
"Hey… We're here."
"Huh?"
Hajime snapped out of his spiral.
"Whoa…"
In front of them stood a traditional Chinese-style house—modest yet elegant, its wood carvings complex, its sloping roof adorned with curved tiles that glistened under the dim lantern light. It wasn't particularly large, but it carried a presence—one of quiet dignity, of years lived within its walls.
"This is your… base of operations or something?"
"Base? What are you talking about?" Clover gave him a weird look. "This is my house. Come on, get in."
Inside the House
The moment Hajime stepped inside, he felt it.
The air was thick. Oppressive.
Like the place hadn't been properly aired out in years.
Dust clung to the air, faintly visible under the flickering lantern light. Objects littered the floor—scattered papers, worn books stacked haphazardly, discarded clothes draped over old wooden furniture. There were training weights near the wall, and a rusted dagger sat abandoned on a low table.
This is weird. Too weird.
Wait… is this it? Is he going to kill me?!
Instinctively, Hajime tensed and stepped back, his posture defensive.
"...Are you…" he said, voice shaking, "...Are you going to hurt me?"
Clover froze.
Then exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumping.
"I'm not a monster…"
The words came out raw—so sudden that they struck Hajime like a slap to the face.
He held his breath.
Clover's eyes were wide, shimmering with something unreadable.
"S-Sorry," Clover muttered, his voice now trembling slightly. "I didn't mean to yell. It's just—ugh—it's been a long day, alright? I'm just… tired. But I swear—I just want to help you."
"I-I'm sorry for doubting you… It's just… this is all so new to me. I didn't mean to—"
Silence.
And then their eyes met.
Those crimson eyes.
They unsettled him—but there was something warm in them, too. A strange kindness.
Changing Clothes
"All right," Clover finally said. "Follow me. I've got clean clothes somewhere."
A few minutes later—
"So, how do the clean clothes feel, huh?" Clover asked with a wide grin, clearly proud of his choice.
Hajime glanced down at himself—the dark blue long-sleeved tunic fit loosely over his frame, paired with black pants and simple Chinese-style cloth shoes.
"Well?"
"It's… kinda loose."
"Gah! That's not how you thank someone who just lent you clothes, damn it!"
"Oh—hehehe, sorry. I mean… they're fine. Really."
"..."
"..."
Silence.
"Uh…"
"So—"
"So—"
They both stopped mid-word, accidentally speaking over each other.
"Oh—sorry. What were you going to say?"
"No, no, you go first, I insist…"
"Ugh… Sorry. I never know what to do with awkward silences." Hajime rubbed the back of his neck.
"I know the feeling. I'm not used to talking to people like this either… Anyway."
"Hmm."
Suddenly, Hajime's stomach let out a low, hungry growl.
"Oh—are you hungry?"
"Eh… yeah, actually. I haven't eaten anything since this morning."
"Great! I know a place. Come on, follow me."
The Streets of Xinre
As they walked through the city streets, Hajime couldn't help but stare at everything in awe.
"This place is incredible…" he whispered.
It was like stepping into a painting of 19th-century China—cobblestone paths stretching into the distance, vibrant red paper lanterns swaying in the breeze, wooden storefronts with hand-painted signs, people dressed in elegant robes or simple tunics going about their day.
Every sound, every flickering light felt like something out of a legend—rich with history, alive with movement.
"You think so?" Clover said, glancing over his shoulder. "I find it all pretty normal, to be honest."
"Woah…"
Clover sighed at the wonder in Hajime's eyes.
"So you really don't remember anything? Like, anything at all?"
"Huh? What are you—"
Oh. Right. He thinks I have amnesia or something… What should I do?
I can't just tell him I'm from another world… We barely know each other.
So I guess the safest option is—
"Not really. I just remember my name, how to talk… and not much else."
"I see… That's pretty bad, honestly."
Clover frowned, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
"I guess I'll have to stay with you until we can find your family, then."
Hajime felt a pang in his chest.
My family…
That means… I won't see them again, right?
I don't want that. I want to go home.
I didn't even get to say goodbye to my parents…
"Don't worry."
"Huh?"
"I won't abandon you. You can trust me."
Hajime blinked, surprised by the sudden sincerity in Clover's voice.
Those crimson eyes, once intimidating, now radiated something else—warmth.
"…Heh… Thanks."
"Besides, I've got fire energy. So if anyone tries to mess with us, I'll just—"
"WAIT—THERE'S MAGIC!?"
"Huh?"
"TELL ME EVERYTHING. HOW MANY TYPES ARE THERE? WHAT KIND OF POWERS EXIST? HOW STRO—"
"W-Whoa! Chill out, you're drawing attention! Calm down, seriously!"