They say every life is decided the moment you're born. Not by fate, not by gods — but by Class. S through F. The higher you are, the smoother your road. The lower… well, you start digging before you can even walk.
I'm Naruhiya Sato — born into a dirt-poor C-class family. I never dreamed of riches. I never expected kindness either. But what came was worse than anything I could've imagined. My parents vanished, leaving me with their debt. Society added mine soon after — for "behavior unfit for my class." Each penalty dragged me lower. D. Then E, and finally F. But even that was heaven compared to what will reach today.
"Special Case for Societal Return – F0."
They call it that like it's mercy.
In truth, it's just another word for erasure.
No one knows what happens when your rank hits zero. There are rumors — screams beyond the fog, bodies never recovered — but no proof.
The only thing certain is that no one lives to talk about it.
My eyes drift down to my wrist. A black band hums faintly, digits flickering on the screen.
Special protocol time limit until F0 debt collector arrival.
661
660
659
658…
Each number feels heavier than the last.
And as the seconds bleed away, one thought burns in my mind —
Today… I hit F0.
Despite that, because of the protocol, I'm ordered by law to get ready for school, or better said, "Tests."
Everyone below B is seen as unfit for attending classes, and honestly, they aren't that wrong. At least for my case…
"Tests" are what those unfit ones attend to, once a month, every month.
And today is one such day, the last one such day for me.
Slowly, I picked up the dark backpack lying in the corner of the dimly lit room and then threw it over my left arm.
It's not like I've chosen this life; it has chosen me.
Since my early days, I have been a bit of a problematic child, causing trouble for my peers and teachers was a daily occurrence for me. Slowly, as I've gotten older, that boldness instead turned into shyness, closeness, social anxiety.
Because of that, my parents have spent almost everything they've earned on monthly check-ups, where I'd get a special kind of… medicine, vaccine was it? For a few days, I'd be normal, like everyone else. That's right, medicine helped since apparently I was diagnosed with UFS0-Ao1 to this day. I have no idea what that ever meant, but it helped my parents and it helped me. For but a moment, I was like everyone else. Not violent, not shy, just plain old me.
Slowly, I opened the front doors of my house. What greeted me was the warm sunlight of a December morning supposed to be cold.
I slowly closed my eyes, then reached for my wrist, then the pulse. It's reaching…
"Ah—" From my left side, a low sigh came accompanied with air by the cold morning. I quickly opened my eyes and looked toward the side. Dressed in black light pants and an orange jacket with white insides, pale skin and half-frozen eyelashes hidden by her ruby red eyes. It was—
Who was it again?
"Sato, good morning."
She whispered, still halfway on the rusty stairs, the frozen air emitting from her lips, yet I felt warmth. I nodded, then continued to the gate.
Turning around as I opened the gates, I couldn't help but feel disdain. A rundown building, three floors, on each floor six "apartments." In other words, small rooms with no basic amenities… One good thing about dying is leaving this place.
I turned around with a serious face, one inch of cold sweat dripping down my ear.
"I'm leaving," I whispered.
In the year 18?1 or something "Gates" appeared. But unlike in the fairytale novels we've got, people with supernatural abilities have not yet awoken. Instead, to mirror those fairytale powers, what the government created was "Protocol." But in vain. Instead of strengthening the user's lifespan, it gave it a class. Based on their potential, humans were divided — those fit to become strong one day would get anything above B, and those fit to be preyed upon, everything below B.
With time though, that system changed. The "Protocol" is now tightly under control and serves little more than a modernized military smartwatch.
While the Protocol itself became an anarchy from strength and potential to connections and wealth. Out of those four elements, I lack in each but, strength.
While a hundred years ago dungeons were something people feared, now it is people who fear other people — those stronger, those luckier in birth.
The tighter you are connected to them.
Stopping at the convenience store, I glanced at the distant billboard. "Ross Radush Corporation seeking new debt collectors. For further information send…"
I sighed, opening the convenience store doors. With a single ting, "Welcome!"
The store was simple, four aisles, each having a thin hall between them. Going to the furthest back aisle, I picked up from the fridge a bottle of cold water, Aqua Aurelis, then proceeded to pay.
"That would be 12.99, sir! Proceed with the payment by putting your wrist to this device, kindly." I glanced at him while picking dollar bills from my wallet. "No cash anymore?"
He smiled and closed his eyes, tilting his head. "Not anymore! Company policy — everything will be done through 'Protocol.' Now, please. A line is forming."
Do I even have anything left in the bank?
Softly, I pressed my left wrist against the device, only to be rejected.
"Ah, sir, are you predicted to be an F0 by the end of the day?"
I nodded. The people behind me shuffled a bit, stepping back.
"Ahaha… I see. My deepest apologies, but we do not condone business with F0s. Company policy." His smile somehow grew wider, apparently at my future, which is targeted by misery. "So I should starve to death before the collectors get me?"
"Company policy. Now, kindly." With his right arm marked with a blue armband, he showed me towards the exit and nodded.
"Fuck your company policy." Saying that, I threw my dollar bills back in my wallet and left, while the clerk shook his head in disappointment. "Tch, damned F's, the world will be better without your kind," he murmured as I slowly closed the doors.
I was supposed to feel angry, frustrated, sad even. But really, what was the point anymore? This was my last day on Earth — I should try to live it as fulfilling as possible.
As I stood in front of the convenience store, a guy passed by with headphones in, holding a randoseru over his right arm. He stopped for a second, then turned around, removing one headphone from his left ear blasting phonk music. "Sato?"
I blankly stared at him, then took a few steps forward, ignoring his presence. Taking me by the arm, he yelled a bit louder this time. "Sato, it is you, isn't it! It's me, man, Kazuki, remember? From D-2/3."
Hah. I slowly shook my head a bit left-right.
How could I ever forget you?
"How could I forget the most popular degenerate of the second years, Kazuki Ryuu… What do you want now?"
He slithered his left arm around my neck playfully. "Came to see my dear friend on his last day~ Why..? Is that baad?"
He hummed through the sentence like a playful, chirping bird, fully knowing he himself is responsible for my soon early demise.
Shaking his arm off, I ducked him in the abdomen with my elbow, then stepped away while still casually walking. Today wasn't the same as yesterday, or any day before it for all it matters. After all, today I'm dying.