Chapter 2: A Goddess Fell on My Face, and Now I Have a Headache (Plus a Side of Divine Drama)
**MC POV**
I don't know how much time had passed since that cosmic jerk RBG yeeted me into the void. Could've been seconds, could've been centuries—time in the afterlife (or whatever that was) is about as reliable as a weather app during a hurricane. When I finally pried my eyes open, I was flat on my back, staring up at a canopy of leaves so thick it looked like Mother Nature had decided to knit a giant green sweater over the sky. The air was thick, humid, and buzzing with the kind of jungle symphony that included chirping birds, rustling bushes, and what sounded suspiciously like a monkey laughing at my misfortune.
A quick scan told me one thing: I wasn't on Earth anymore. No concrete sidewalks, no blaring car horns, no faint whiff of overpriced campus coffee. Instead, dirt under my butt, vines tangling around like they were auditioning for a Tarzan reboot, and the distant crash of waves that hinted at an ocean nearby. "I'm in the middle of the East Blue ocean… no, wait—" I muttered, sitting up and brushing off what felt like a layer of prehistoric mud. I looked around at the endless greenery—trees taller than skyscrapers, ferns big enough to hide a dinosaur, and flowers that looked like they could eat you if you stared too long. "More specifically, on some island. Even more specifically, dead center in a jungle. Great. Just great. Because nothing says 'welcome to your new adventure' like waking up in a bug-infested sweatbox."
My body felt lighter. Smaller. Weirder. Like I'd been shrunk in the wash. I scrambled over to a nearby puddle—more like a mini-lake formed from last night's rain—and peered in. An eight-year-old face stared back at me. Chubby cheeks, wide eyes, messy hair that screamed "I just rolled out of bed... or a portal." I poked my reflection, watching the ripples distort my pint-sized features. "…Why the hell did that god toss me into a child's body? At least it's not a pirate-infested island, I guess. Or is it? Knowing my luck, this is probably Dawn Island, and Luffy's about to swing by on a vine yelling about meat."
I flexed my tiny hands, testing the waters. Okay, skills check time. Focus, Sunny. You've got this. {Ego}—active. A faint hum in my head, like a sarcastic narrator warming up. {System}—unresponsive. "Tch. Figures. Probably needs a quest or something to boot up. Or maybe it's on airplane mode. Great, stuck in kid mode with half my cheats offline."
Before I could think further—BOOM! Something heavy slammed into me from above, like a meteor with bad aim. It knocked me flat on my back again, the wind whooshing out of my lungs in a pathetic "Oof!" My vision spun like I'd just chugged a carousel. Stars danced in my eyes—actual stars, or maybe just jungle fireflies mocking me.
"Ghh—what the—?" I groaned, trying to shove whatever it was off me. It was soft, squishy, and... crying? Wait, no. Wailing. Like a siren crossed with a toddler who dropped their ice cream.
It was a girl. Small frame, light-blue hair that looked like it had been styled by a tornado, dressed in strange clothes—a mix of ethereal robes shrunk down to kid size, with frills that screamed "I'm divine, but also on a budget." She reeked of divinity, even in her downgraded form. Like fresh rain mixed with ozone and a hint of entitlement. And before I could process it, she started bawling her eyes out, snot and all.
???: "Waaahhh! Why meee?! This is the worst day ever! I hate everything! Waaaaah!"
I froze, pinned under her like a human pancake. "…Aqua?" I croaked, piecing it together. The useless goddess from Konosuba? The one who floods towns by accident and cries over spilled sake? Of course RBG would pair me with nerf version of her. Comedy gold... for him.
Her head snapped up, eyes brimming with tears that could fill a kiddie pool. Mascara? No, gods don't wear mascara, but her lashes were dramatically clumped anyway. "Y-yes! I'm Aqua, the goddess of water and purification!" She puffed up proudly for a split second, chest out, chin high—like she was posing for a statue—then crumbled back into sobs, face-planting into my shirt. "And now I've been reduced to this! A little kid! No powers, no temple, no nothing! Waaahhh! Why couldn't it be someone else? Like that lazy NEET or something!"
I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache brewing that had nothing to do with the impact. "Oh, perfect. They nerfed my cheat partner into a crybaby. Because what's an isekai without a sidekick who specializes in emotional meltdowns?"
{Ego}: A voice piped up in my head, cool and analytical, like a robot butler with a PhD in sarcasm. "Correction: Subject identified as 'Aqua,' former goddess entity. Current state: drastically weakened. Divine authority sealed. Physical age regression: approximately eight years. Emotional volatility: off the charts. Suggested countermeasures: earplugs or bribery with snacks."
"Thanks, Ego," I muttered, trying to pry her off without starting another waterworks show. "Super helpful."
{Ego}: "Advisory: Emotional stability required. Immediate action suggested to prevent prolonged auditory disturbance. Prolonged exposure may lead to user migraines or spontaneous combustion of patience."
I sighed, rolling my eyes so hard I nearly saw my own brain. "In other words, make her shut up before I lose it."
{Ego}: "Affirmative. Probability of success: 47%. Adjust for user's charm level—down to 32%."
Aqua wailed louder, pounding the ground with her tiny fists, sending dirt flying like confetti at a pity party. "I was living peacefully in my temple! I had worshippers bringing me gifts every day—fruits, flowers, fancy robes! I had offerings piled higher than mountains! And then—then—I was just laughing at some mortal's stupid death! He mistook a tractor for a truck, panicked so hard he peed himself, tripped over his own feet, and died face-first in a ditch! It was hilarious! I was rolling on my divine cloud, clutching my sides!"
She sniffled dramatically, wiping her nose on her sleeve—gross, but hey, goddess privileges? "And right in the middle of my laughter, this… thing appeared! It called itself RBG—Random Bored God, what a stupid name—and said I'd been chosen for some 'grand adventure.' Before I could even protest or throw a holy tantrum, it shoved me out of the heavens, shrank me into this dumb child body, sealed my powers tighter than a miser's wallet, and dropped me from the sky like yesterday's garbage!"
She flopped on the ground like a fish out of water, kicking her legs wildly and sending leaves scattering. One boot nearly clocked me in the shin. "I lost everything! My beautiful temple with the golden fountains! My worshippers who adored me—well, most of them, except that one guy who kept praying for rain during picnics! My divine wine collection—vintages from the gods themselves! My relaxing goddess life of lounging on clouds and judging mortals from afar! Now I'm stuck here, in this buggy hellhole, with no spa, no servants, and worst of all—no bubble baths!"
Her voice cracked so badly it made my head ache worse than a bad hangover. It was like nails on a chalkboard mixed with a symphony of sobs. I could feel my patience fraying like cheap rope.
"That's it." I grabbed her shoulders—gently, ish—and dragged her to a nearby river. The water was crystal clear, bubbling over rocks like it was mocking our situation. I dunked her head under the water with a satisfying splash.
"MMMPHHH—!!" Bubbles erupted like a mini volcano. She flailed her arms, but in her kid form, it was more cute than threatening—like a drowned kitten trying to fight back.
Three minutes later (okay, maybe two—I wasn't trying to actually drown a goddess), I pulled her up. She gasped for air, hair plastered to her face like wet spaghetti, tears mixing with river water in a soggy mess. She looked like a sad, blue-haired mop.
"If you don't stop crying," I said coldly, channeling my inner tough guy (which, in an eight-year-old body, probably came off more like a playground bully), "I'll drown you for real. Or at least hold you under until you promise to chill."
She froze, eyes wide as saucers, then made a trembling pout that could've melted a heart of stone—if mine wasn't already annoyed. "O-okay… I'll stop. But that was mean! Gods don't get dunked!"
Her voice was so small, it almost sounded pitiful. Almost. I could see the wheels turning in her head—probably plotting divine revenge, like turning my water into vinegar or something.
I let go and stepped back, crossing my arms. "Good. Now explain yourself again, but this time without the whining. Pretend you're briefing a mortal on your tragic backstory. Keep it concise... ish."
She sniffled one last time, then straightened up as best she could in her soggy state. With a dramatic flip of her wet hair (which sent droplets flying like a sprinkler), she tried to reclaim her goddess vibe. It was hilarious—picture a drowned rat trying to pose like a supermodel.
Aqua: "Hmph! As I said, I'm Aqua, the most beautiful, radiant, and generous goddess of water and purification! Worshipped by countless followers across realms! Loved by all who seek purity and blessings! My miracles could heal the sick, purify tainted lands, bless crops to grow like weeds on steroids, and even make water taste like the finest elixir! Nations bowed before my altars; heroes sought my favor!"
She puffed her chest, striking a dramatic pose—hands on hips, head tilted back—even though she was dripping wet and stuck in an eight-year-old body. A leaf stuck to her forehead, ruining the effect, but she didn't notice.
Aqua: "And now… all of that's gone! My temple abandoned to dust and spiders! My worshippers lost, probably worshipping some knockoff deity now! My wine stolen by fate itself—poof, gone in a puff of boredom! And worst of all, my divine beauty… trapped in this loli form! Do you understand the magnitude of this tragedy?! It's like the universe decided to prank me personally!"
I blinked, fighting back a grin. "Yeah. Totally tragic. World-ending stuff. The gods must be weeping... or laughing their asses off."
I couldn't help it—I burst into laughter. Full-on belly laughs that echoed through the jungle, scaring off a flock of colorful birds. "Ahahaha! You're supposed to be a goddess, all-powerful and majestic, and now you're a brat throwing tantrums in the jungle, covered in mud and leaves. This is too good. RBG must be up there with popcorn, watching this like a reality show."
Aqua puffed her cheeks like a chipmunk hoarding nuts and pointed at me accusingly. "You're making fun of me! How dare you mock a goddess? I could smite you... if I had my powers!"
"I'm not laughing at you," I wheezed, wiping a tear from my eye. "Okay, maybe a little. But come on—I'm laughing at the situation. Kazuma's death in Konosuba, you falling out of the sky like a divine cannonball, RBG screwing us both over with his 'random' choices… this is a comedy sketch waiting to happen. Next thing you know, we'll run into a pirate crew who mistakes us for lost kids and tries to adopt us."
She tried to glare at me, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently. But then her lip quivered, and she cracked a giggle. It started small, like a hiccup, then built into full laughter. Reluctantly, sure, but genuine. And then, we were both at it—laughing like idiots in the middle of nowhere.
For a moment, the jungle echoed with our laughter—ridiculous, mismatched, but strangely comforting. Birds chirped along, monkeys hooted from the trees like an audience, and even the river seemed to bubble in amusement.
When we finally caught our breath, I offered my hand, still chuckling. "Name's Sunny. Nice to meet you, Aqua. Since we're stuck here—in kid bodies, on a mystery island, with half-baked powers—let's at least work together. You handle the water stuff; I'll... punch things or whatever."
Aqua wiped her face with the back of her hand, then flipped her hair again (still wet, still dramatic), trying to look dignified despite the mud streaks. "Hmph! Fine. I suppose I'll allow it. But don't forget—I'm still a goddess at heart. You better treat me properly. That means respect, offerings, and no more dunking!"
"Sure, sure," I said, smirking. "As long as you don't flood the island by accident."
{Ego}: "Prediction: Probability of user treating subject 'Aqua' properly—3%. Probability of accidental flooding—87%. Recommend investing in floaties."
I smirked wider. "Heh. Sounds about right. This partnership is doomed."
And just like that, my journey began—with an AI voice in my head dishing out snarky stats, and a downgraded goddess who acted like a spoiled child with a divine ego. We trudged off into the jungle, bickering about whose fault the headache was (hers, obviously). This was going to be a nightmare... or the funniest adventure ever. Probably both.