Prologue
In the darkness, a faint glimmer of light shrank rapidly in the distance. Reflexively, Hajime Nagumo reached out for it, though he knew it was already beyond his grasp. His body was gripped by an overwhelming sensation of falling, a primal fear tightening his core as he stared helplessly at the vanishing glow.
Hajime was plummeting—deep into a vast chasm, seemingly without end. The light he had seen was that of the surface, now nothing more than a memory.
It had all begun during a dungeon expedition. A misstep, or perhaps something more sinister, had caused him to fall into a massive fissure. Now, with no end in sight, the abyss swallowed him whole. Darkness consumed everything, broken only by the roar of rushing wind in his ears and the flood of memories flashing before his eyes—like a reel of his life unraveling in reverse.
He was a Japanese high school student, living a life that was neither extraordinary nor particularly tragic—until he was summoned to this brutal, unforgiving fantasy world. What awaited him here was not adventure and glory, but cruelty, betrayal, and despair. And now, this seemingly endless fall was just the latest entry in the long list of injustices he had been forced to endure.
Monday. The most dreaded day of the week. For most people, it was a symbol of the end of freedom and the return to routine. Hajime Nagumo was no exception—except his Mondays were tainted by more than just the usual lethargy.
For Hajime, school was a battlefield of glares, whispers, and isolation. He arrived just before the first bell, dragging his sleep-deprived body through the classroom door, only to be greeted with audible sighs, narrowed eyes, and thinly veiled contempt.
"Yo, freak. Up all night gaming again? Or was it porn this time?"
"Eww, seriously? That’s disgusting."
Daisuke Hiyama led the pack of jeering voices, joined by his usual cohorts: Yoshiki Saito, Reiichi Kondo, and Shinji Nakano. Together, they made Hajime’s school life a constant barrage of mockery. It was routine now.
Yes, Hajime was an otaku—but not the kind their insults implied. His appearance was neat, his demeanor quiet but not gloomy. He just happened to love creative works—anime, manga, games, and movies.
But that alone shouldn’t have made him a target.
So why was he? The answer was simple: Kaori Shirasaki.
"Good morning, Nagumo-kun! Just barely made it again, huh? You really should try to get here earlier."
Kaori Shirasaki—school idol, one of the so-called "Two Goddesses." Her beauty was legendary: waist-length black hair, soft eyes, and a gentle, ever-present smile. But more than her appearance, it was her kindness and sincerity that drew people to her.
For reasons Hajime couldn’t fathom, Kaori always went out of her way to talk to him.
"O-Oh, good morning, Shirasaki-san."
Hajime’s awkward greeting was met with the friendly warmth of her smile—and the icy daggers of jealousy from every other boy in the room.
To them, it was unforgivable. Why him? Why would the most adored girl in school waste her time on someone like Hajime?
To make matters worse, Kaori wasn’t alone.
"Good morning, Nagumo-kun. Must be tough keeping that routine." "Kaori, you’re being too kind again. He’ll never change." "Seriously, why bother with someone who’s just going to sleep through class again?"
Shizuku Yaegashi, Kaori’s best friend and a kendo prodigy, stood beside her—tall, refined, and calm. Then there was Kouki Amanogawa: the model student, star athlete, and all-around golden boy. Finally, Ryutarou Sakagami—brash, blunt, and built like a tank.
These four—Kaori, Shizuku, Kouki, and Ryutarou—were the central figures of their class, perhaps even the whole school.
"Good morning, Yaegashi-san, Amanogawa-kun, Sakagami-kun... haha, well, I guess it’s my own fault."
Hajime tried to brush off the tension with a smile, but their stares pierced through him like knives.
Kouki frowned. "If you understand that, maybe it’s time to start taking things seriously. Kaori’s not your babysitter."
Hajime wanted to shout, “I never asked her to be!” but he swallowed the words. Kouki meant well—probably—but his sense of righteousness often ignored nuance.
And Hajime wasn’t about to give up his way of life. His parents were creatives—a game developer and a manga artist. His passions were his future, and he'd already started learning the trade under their guidance. As far as he was concerned, his life was on track.
If only Kaori hadn’t taken an interest in him.
Lunch break. Hajime stirred awake at the familiar din of students moving around him. Half-asleep, he fished out his quick meal and scanned the room.
Many had already left for the cafeteria, but about two-thirds of the class remained. Their social studies teacher, Aiko Hatayama, was chatting with a few students at the front.
Hajime unwrapped his lunch and began eating when—
"Nagumo-kun, you’re still here? That’s rare. Mind if I join you?"
Kaori again. Her presence set off a new wave of tension across the room.
"Ah... thanks, but I already finished. You should go eat with Amanogawa-kun and the others."
He waved his empty lunch pack. It wasn’t much of a deterrent.
"What? That’s all you ate? That’s not enough! Here, I’ll share mine."
(No... please... someone stop her... read the room!)
As if on cue, salvation arrived.
"Kaori, come eat with us. Don’t waste your amazing cooking on someone who’s half-asleep."
Kouki’s charming smile failed to faze Kaori.
"Huh? Why would I need your permission?"
Shizuku chuckled. Kouki stammered. But even with their attention, the pressure from the surrounding students only grew stronger.
Hajime sighed and muttered to himself:
"Man... couldn’t someone just summon these guys to another world already? They’ve got ‘isekai protagonist’ written all over them..."
It was a joke, of course. A desperate wish to escape.
But in the very next moment, a glowing magic circle appeared beneath Kouki’s feet.
A blinding light erupted. Screams filled the air. Their teacher shouted for them to evacuate, but it was too late.
When the light faded, the classroom was empty. Chairs overturned, lunches half-eaten, belongings scattered.
Only the people were gone.
The mysterious mass disappearance would later shock the nation, dubbed a “midday vanishing” unlike anything seen before.
But that is a story for another time.
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