Chapter 2: The diary
794 Words
The apartment was silent.
Only the dripping of a leaking pipe broke the stillness.
Shiro sat motionless on the worn futon, his hands shaking as he stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror.
A teenager's face looked back at him.
Long black hair.
Deep blue eyes.
A frail body that looked as if a strong gust of wind could knock it over.
His ribs were visible through his shirt.
His wrists were painfully thin.
He clenched his fist.
Weak.
Far weaker than his forty-two-year-old body had ever been.
He slowly sat back down and took a deep breath.
"Panicking won't solve anything."
His years in finance had taught him one thing above all else.
Analyze first. Act second.
He began searching the apartment.
The tiny kitchen contained nothing but an empty kettle.
The refrigerator held only spoiled milk and moldy rice.
The cabinet contained three packets of expired ramen.
Nothing else.
No money.
No phone.
No family photos.
Nothing.
The room looked less like a home and more like somewhere someone waited to die.
Hours passed before he noticed something underneath the futon.
A notebook.
Its blue cover was faded with age.
The words written across the front read:
"Shiro Shiki's Diary."
Shiro blinked.
"...Shiro?"
The coincidence was almost unbelievable.
He slowly opened it.
The first pages were filled with childish handwriting.
April 6
"Today I entered elementary school!"
"Teacher said I'm very smart!"
"I want lots of friends!"
The next few pages contained drawings.
The sun.
Cats.
Trees.
His parents.
The little boy inside the diary had been happy.
Very happy.
A small smile unconsciously appeared on Shiro's face.
Then the entries changed.
August 14
"Mom and Dad fought again."
"Dad left."
"Mom cried all night."
December 3
"Dad never came back."
"Mom says it's my fault because I'm too much work."
Shiro frowned.
His fingers tightened around the diary.
The writing became messier.
The cheerful drawings disappeared.
March 20
"Mom left too."
"She said she'll come back."
"It's been two weeks."
She never did.
The next pages detailed life in an orphanage.
Shiro Shiki was different.
His IQ was extraordinary.
He learned mathematics faster than adults.
He memorized books after reading them once.
Teachers praised him endlessly.
The other children hated him for it.
The bullying started.
It never stopped.
His notebooks were burned.
His clothes stolen.
His lunches thrown away.
He was beaten almost every day.
The staff ignored it.
"It builds character."
Those words appeared underlined three times.
Eventually...
He stopped attending school.
No one came looking for him.
No teachers.
No social workers.
No police.
He simply vanished.
And the world kept moving.
The final pages were almost painful to read.
The handwriting shook.
"I'm hungry."
"Found ramen in the trash."
"Expiration date was six months ago."
"Still tasted okay."
"I feel dizzy today."
"My head hurts."
"I wish someone would talk to me."
"I wonder if Mom remembers me."
"If someone finds this..."
"Please don't hate humanity because of my life."
"There are probably good people somewhere."
"I just never met them."
The final page contained only four words.
Written so lightly they were almost invisible.
"I'm so tired..."
Nothing else.
No farewell.
No anger.
No hatred.
Just exhaustion.
Shiro slowly closed the diary.
The room felt unbearably quiet.
His eyes watered.
He had lived forty-two years.
He knew betrayal.
He knew heartbreak.
But reading the life of this lonely child hurt him in a different way.
No one should die like this.
Not at sixteen.
Not alone.
He looked toward the ceiling.
"...You deserved better."
For the first time since awakening in this body, he understood.
This wasn't simply reincarnation.
This was a relay.
One broken soul had fallen.
Another broken soul had inherited his place.
Shiro gently placed the diary on the table.
Then he stood
His legs shook.
His stomach growled violently.
He smiled faintly.
"So this body was once a genius..."
His mind was already racing.
Even weakened by malnutrition, he could feel something extraordinary.
Numbers came naturally.
Patterns stood out effortlessly.
Memories from the diary blended with his own decades of experience in economics and investment.
The original Shiro Shiki had possessed incredible talent.
The older Shiro Akuma possessed decades of knowledge and discipline.
Together...
Perhaps they could become someone neither could have become alone.
He walked to the window and looked at the sunrise illuminating the city.
For the first time in years...
He felt hope.
Not for revenge.
Not for wealth.
Not for fame.
But for a life worth living.
He quietly made a promise.
"I'll live the life you never got to have."
Outside, the morning wind carried the scent of summer.
And somewhere beyond the endless rooftops of Tokyo...
A new beginning was waiting.
End of Chapter 2
- Writer
