Not a Mob: Psycho

After three periods covering English, Math, and History, it was time for lunch. Ohta was planning to use that time to go up to the roof, but before he could leave the classroom, he was stopped by a short girl with boyish looks, short black hair that spiked outward at the sides, brown eyes, and a lean, athletic frame.
"Hey, you good?" asked the girl, registering within Ohta's mind as Arisawa Tatsuki, a girl he had known since elementary school.
"Yeah, I'm fine," replied Ohta. "I just overworked myself at the docks and overslept."
Crossing her arms, Tatsuki adopted a slight frown, but her eyes expressed concern as she asked, "Are you having trouble with money? I thought you saved up a bit over Winter and Spring Breaks?"
Shaking his head, Ohta replied, "Not really. It's just better to have more than depend on my savings to get by. College isn't going to pay for itself."
Exhaling an exasperated sigh, Tatsuki's frown deepened as she remarked, "That's what I don't get about you, Ohta. You have the skills to be the ace of the karate team, but you spend most of your time doing odd jobs. What gives?"
"Never underestimate the value of hard work," replied Ohta, adopting a faint smile as he added, "Besides, I already told you. I didn't learn martial arts to compete against brats."
Snorting through her nose, Tatsuki groaned, "Whatever..." before walking off in a huff, reuniting with a comparably curvaceous girl with big tits and bright orange hair.
Seeing Ohta looking over, the orange-haired girl, Inoue Orihime, adopted a somewhat awkward smile as she raised her hand and waved. Ohta was an outcast among the other students, regarded as a monster by local and neighboring delinquents, so most people gave him a very wide berth.
Exhaling a faint sigh through his nose, Ohta rose to his feet, departing the classroom without reciprocating Orihime's greeting. He had inherited the memories of the time he had skipped, so he knew the true reason he was a pariah. It wasn't because he could take on a group of delinquents alone. Rather, he had a secret that imperiled the lives of everyone around him...
Upon reaching the roof, usually locked and off-limits to students, Ohta took a moment to ensure he was alone before staring down at his hands. As he did so, blue energy began to gather around them, quickly gaining shades of pink and amethyst as a pattern reminiscent of a kaleidoscope formed around the edges.
Flexing his fingers with some effort, Ohta caused the 'space' around his digits to warp, followed by a distinctive black 'void' appearing in his palm. At the same time, the blue, pink, and purple aura spread across his body, protecting him and causing his hair to flutter as tiny fragments of stone and debris rose from the floor of the roof, drawn to the void as if it were a powerful magnet.
Crushing the void by closing his fist, a frown marred Ohta's face as he internally groaned, ("That damned Auditor. Why did she throw me into a world with invisible monsters and grant me psychic powers? How the hell am I supposed to live in peace?")
Recalling numerous instances of him encountering spirits and battling mask-wearing monsters with gaping holes in their chests, Ohta couldn't help exhaling a tired sigh. Even the previous night, while returning from one of his part-time jobs, a spider-like monster had materialized from the shadows to try and slice him in half with its mantis-like limbs...
Sitting in the shadows of the roof's parapet, Ohta did what he always did when faced with a strange, fucked up, or generally dangerous situation, forcibly calming himself as he organized his thoughts in order of priority. His psychic powers had manifested when he was a child, but the mask-wearing creatures had only started to appear fairly recently. There had to be a reason, and his past self had already started looking into it, marking his encounters with the creatures on a city map and periodically going on patrols to try and lure them out...
"Then that's what I'll do..." muttered Ohta, choosing to follow the path his past self had set for him. Possessing psychic powers wasn't an inherently bad thing. Rather, in a world filled with spirits and invisible monsters that could level buildings and toss cars around like toys, possessing powerful psychokinetic abilities was pretty handy...
Picking up a stone fragment with his mind, Ohta caused it to spin rapidly until the friction with the air caused it to heat up and melt. Then, with a simple thought, he shaped the molten stone into a fairly accurate figure of himself, grasping it with his bare hand but feeling no heat thanks to a thin but exceptionally powerful membrane of psychic energy.
"I can work with this..." muttered Ohta, adopting a faint smile. He already had the power, so rather than lamenting the fact he had been tricked, he decided to make the most of his second chance at life. If nothing else, he could at least go out with a bang by pulling an Akira...
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After three more periods of class, Ohta made his way to the apartment he had leased with the help of Tatsuki's mom, Fubuki. He originally lived in an orphanage, but after exhibiting his independence and willingness to work, he was allowed to move into an apartment in the months leading up to his first year in High School.
"I should stop by and say hi sometime..." muttered Ohta, recalling that it had been at least six weeks since his last visit to the Arisawa household. Fubuki had co-signed his lease, affording him much greater freedom, so he owed her that much.
As that thought crossed his mind, Ohta turned down an alleyway that served as a shortcut to his apartment, finding a familiar black cat staring at him from atop an eye-level fence.
Recalling the name he had given the cat in the past, Ohta adopted a smile and asked, "Enjoying a sunbath, Susu?" He was more of a dog person, but this particular cat had seemingly been stalking him since he was in middle school. He wasn't absolutely sure it was the same cat, but no other feline gave him the same, almost foreboding impression.
Instead of responding to Ohta's words, the distinctive black cap leaped away, disappearing on the opposite side of the fence. Ohta had tried to catch and lure it a few times in the past, but the moment it vanished from view, it disappeared entirely. It also didn't have the same aura as a spirit or living creature, so Ohta presumed it to be some kind of Yokai.
("And that's why I hate cats...") thought Ohta. It was clear that Susu had taken an interest in him, yet, even after two years, it wouldn't let him get anywhere near it. He even bought some high-quality Chura cat treats to try and get it to open up to him, but it just ran off like it had no interest in what he had to say or offer. The most annoying part was that the treats had disappeared from his schoolbag when he went to remove them at his apartment...
Unfortunately, as he couldn't 'sense' the strange black cat, Ohta couldn't use his telekinetic abilities to grab it. His intuition also warned him that trying wasn't a good idea, so his past self had avoided antagonizing Susu as a matter of course. With mask-wearing monsters running about and causing chaos, the last thing he needed was an angry Yokai or vengeful spirit haunting him...
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"I could get used to this..." muttered Ohta, standing in the air high above downtown Karakura while wearing a winter jacket, tinted goggles, and a beanie. It was currently mid-Spring, so it got pretty cold in the evenings, especially when you didn't have anything to protect against the frigid wind blowing in from the sea.
Though he could shield himself from the cold with his psychic energy, Ohta knew it was a finite resource. Using it to give him a better vantage was one thing, but expending it to keep himself warm was a waste. The cold also helped him stay focused and fight off fatigue, so he enjoyed the feeling of the evening air as he looked down at the streets below like the pathways of an ant terrarium...
Breaking Ohta from his thoughts, a wispy, reverberating 'scream' reached his ears, echoing like a bone flute formed from a predatory animal's skull. It was enough to cause a chill to permeate the body of a normal person, compelling them to stay away, but Ohta charged toward it, descending to the streets like a meteor just as a two-meter tall, goblin-like creature with a wiry body, inordinately long arms, and a bone-white mask attempted to devour a spirit resembling a small girl.
Landing in front of the girl, Ohta raised his hand, stopping the masked creature just as it lunged forward with its three-clawed, scimitar-like fingers. The same tri-colored aura surrounding his body prevented the masked monstrosity from moving so much as a centimeter, but that was just the beginning.
"Sorry, big fella, but this is going to hurt..." said Ohta, cracking a relaxed smile as he slowly closed his hand. As he did so, the body of the masked beast began to compress in on itself, pressurized black blood discharging from cracks that formed in its carapace-like body. A few seconds later, all that remained of the beast was a shadowy mass of gore forming a sphere no larger than a medicine ball. Ohta could compress it even further, but it would be a waste of energy.
Turning toward the pigtailed spirit, identifiable by the distinctive chain dangling from the center of her chest, the somewhat cruel smile faded from Ohta's face, replaced by a gentle expression as he said, "It's about time you moved on..."
Shrinking in on herself, the young girl fearfully replied, "I...I don't know how...I'm scared..."
Taking a knee, bringing himself to eye-level with the girl, Ohta gave her a gentle pat on the head as he said, "There's nothing to be afraid of. Death is just another part of life. I can't say for certain what's waiting for you on the other side, but dwelling here will only make you sad and lonely. Now, do you want me to escort you to a shrine, or do you think you can be a big girl and pass on properly...?"
"I'm still afraid..." replied the girl, tears building in the corners of her eyes. Seeing her caused Ohta to exhale internally, but he maintained his smile as he rose to his feet, extending his hand to the girl as he said, "Then let's get you someplace safe..."
Though she was initially hesitant, the pigtailed spirit eventually accepted Ohta's hand, accompanying him to one of the more famous shrines in the region. His past self had guided several spirits to the same location. There was no enshrined god or deities present, at least not that Ohta was aware of, but when spirits passed through the Tori gate at the base of the shrine, they abruptly vanished into motes of bluish-white light. He didn't know if this was the correct course of action, but he believed it was better than leaving them to mourn and suffer in obscurity, crying out to people and family members that could neither see nor hear them...
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Several hours after Ohta had already retired for the night, an inordinately petite woman with raven black hair and a peculiar, samurai-esque black outfit appeared atop a telephone poll, the moon appearing overlarge behind her as she stared in the direction of Karakura Town and muttered, "I sense a strong Spirit Energy..."
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Rising early the following day, specifically at 5:30 AM, Ohta did his usual, or, more accurately, his past self's morning routine.
One of the most important aspects of combat readiness was a fit and healthy body, so the first thing Ohta did every morning was half an hour of cardio, half an hour of weight training, and forty minutes of hitting a sandbag. That gave him a little more than an hour to get showered, eat breakfast, and make his way to school, taking a random route every day to avoid the fatal flaw of falling into an easily predictable routine.
("Man, I'm too old for this shit...") thought Ohta, sitting at his desk and resting his cheek against his knuckles with half-lidded eyes and a bored countenance. Unfortunately, skipping High School would have cost him 50,000 Karma, meaning he wouldn't have been able to acquire perks like an AB blood type, making him a universal recipient. Such things might not matter to most people, but if you ever found yourself in a situation where they had to transport blood from another hospital, you would understand how integral blood type was to your survival in an emergency...
Briefly earning Ohta's attention, Tatsuki arrived alongside Orihime. The two had been friends for a long time, but they became much closer after Orihime lost her only family member a few years back, an older brother whose name Ohta couldn't recall as they had never actually met.
Noticing Ohta in his seat, Tatsuki temporarily ceased her conversation with Orihime, raising her hand as she said, "Hey, Ohta. Get plenty of rest last night?"
Adopting a faint smile, Ohta replied, "Yeah. And thanks for your concern. I appreciate it."
As expected of a tomboy, Tatsuki visibly cringed when thanked by Ohta, crossing her arms and averting her eyes as she muttered, "You're being weird..."
"I get that," replied Ohta, exhaling a light chuckle. He didn't consider himself particularly close to anyone, as he was always prepared to vanish at a moment's notice, but Tatsuki's family had been good to him. She was also the closest thing he had to a childhood friend, so it was important to show a bit of gratitude now and then to maintain their relationship...
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With homeroom and three periods passing, Ohta, once again, found himself on the roof. This time, however, there were a few third-year students present, presumably delinquents, judging by their ridiculous hairstyles, facial piercings, and unkempt uniforms. A few were even smoking.
Though it had been nearly a month since he began attending Karakura High as a first year, none of the group immediately recognized Ohta, compelling the leader of the group to say, "Beat it, kid. This is our turf."
Adopting a faint smile, Ohta replied, "Sure, have fun," before turning and attempting to leave. Before he could, however, the same student, built like an amateur wrestler, said, "Hye, hold up, aren't you forgetting something? Did you think you could just enter our turf and leave as you please? Empty your pockets."
Turning around to reveal an even bigger grin, Ohta sent shivers up the spines of nearly everyone present as he mused, "No, I don't think I will." in an almost melodic, sing-song tone.
"Hey, Boss...I don't think we should mess with this kid..." said one of the goons, a skinny man with short bleached hair, buck teeth, and a decently attuned survival instinct.
Though he felt the same way as his goon, the stocky delinquent grit his teeth and growled, "Fuck that..." before rising to his full 188cm height and shouting, "You lookin' for a fight, punk!?"
"Sure," replied Ohta, adopting his 'friendliest' smile as he asked, "Know anyone capable? Maybe the Senpai that used to bully you?"
"You...!"
As Ohta wasn't that far away, the stocky youth lunged at him, throwing the most telegraphed haymaker the former had ever seen. The former could have easily dodged it, but one of the nicknames he had picked up in Middle School was Ohta, the Immovable.
Surprising everyone, none more than the stocky youth, Ohta caught his fist as if he were catching a softball tossed by a child. At the same time, the smile on his face grew to the point that his eyes squinted slightly, his grip tightening around the much larger boy's fingers as he mused, "Wow, you're pretty strong~."
Feeling an intense pain from his hand, the larger boy tried to pull away, but Ohta was like an anchor, keeping him in place as the pressure of his grip slowly and deliberately increased.
"Ow, ow, ow, fuck...!" exclaimed the burly youth, kicking toward Ohta in the hope of getting him to let go. Instead, the moment raised his foot, Ohta struck with his own, kicking the inside of his knee with enough force to turn him sideways. In the same motion, he made a hooking motion with the larger youth's fist, pushing his would-be assailant to the ground and forcing his hand to the center of his back with a loud 'pop.'
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaah! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I won't do it again..!" screamed the stocky youth, sweating bullets and crying like a child at the pain of having his shoulder forcibly dislocated.
"Yes, I intend to make sure of that," said Ohta, pushing the youth's hand even further up his back. He knew from experience that people like this only understood pain, so if he didn't leave him with a 'sufficient' trauma, it wouldn't be long before the wannabe thug returned with a posse.
While the larger boy screamed bloody murder on the ground, Ohta raised his gaze to the other delinquents, narrowing his eyes into an amused smile as he asked, "What are you waiting for? Don't you want to help your friend~?"
As he could also hear Ohta's words, the larger boy reached out with his free hand and screamed, "Guys, please help me...!" with tears and snot cascading down his face.
Terrified by the sight, the other delinquents instinctually stepped back, their bodies breaking out in a cold sweat. Fortunately, just as Ohta was about to give the leader of the group permanent nerve damage, a familiar voice echoed from behind him, asking, "Don't you think that's enough...?"
Releasing the delinquent's arm, Ohta raised his hands in mock surrender, his smile losing its malice as he replied, "You're probably right." before rising to his feet and turning around to find a boy with spiky orange hair and brown eyes staring at him with a conflicted, judgmental expression on his face.
Stepping past Ohta, the orange-haired youth, Kurosaki Ichigo, looked down at the beaten and sobbing delinquent, remarking, "You nearly tore his arm off..."
Shrugging his shoulders, Ohta replied, "Eh, give him two to three months, and he'll be back to bullying those weaker than him with a smile." Then, before Ichigo could respond, he looked over to the other delinquents, saying, "Hey, cowards, get this guy to the nurse's office before someone else needs to carry you there on a stretcher."
Reacting to Ohta's words, the remaining five boys picked up their former leader and hurried from the roof as fast as their fumbling feet could. As a result, Ohta found himself alone with Ichigo, the latter staring back at him and scratching his head, clearly not knowing what to say. After all, he also had a reputation for sending delinquents to the hospital.
"Relax," said Ohta. "You know those types. Give them an inch, and they'll take a mile. If I were weaker than them, I would have been the one on the ground, robbed of my money and dignity. They needed a lesson like that before they pissed off the wrong person and got themselves killed."
Exhaling a sigh, Ichigo dropped his hand and responded with a tired, "Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean. Still, you didn't have to go 'that' far. If you had told them who you were, they probably would have run away from the start."
Shrugging his shoulders, Ohta admitted, "Probably. But we can't know that for certain. Besides, I did try to leave when they asked me to. It's their fault for viewing that as a sign of weakness."
"Yeah, man, whatever..." said Ichigo, looking around at the empty roof before asking, "So, is this where you're planning to spend your lunches from now on?"
"Maybe," responded Ohta. "The Sun's a bit overbearing, but there's a nice breeze."
"Right..."
Not really sure what else to say, Ichigo scratched his head a second time, an awkward silence permeating the air before he said, "Well, I'll leave you to it. If those guys try to seek revenge, let me know. I doubt you'll need it, but I can lend you a hand..."
"Same old Ichigo," mused Ohta, slipping his hands into his pockets and adopting a faint smile as he added, "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."
"I doubt it..." replied Ichigo, having extended similar offers to Ohta in the past. Then, as neither of them was very social, he turned around and left, leaving Ohta to enjoy the remainder of the lunch period in relative peace...
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Sitting on the roof of Karakura Town's tallest building, this time wearing a green hoodie and a black facemask, Ohta remarked, "Something feels off tonight..." while staring listlessly at the moon. He couldn't really explain it, but he felt like there was some kind of 'interference' in the air, giving him a similar feeling to being stuck in a low-service area, searching for a signal on his cell phone.
Rising to his feet, Ohta was about to fly into the sky for a better vantage when a sound similar to a car crash reached his ears, echoing through the night from several kilometers away.
"Well, got nothing better to do," muttered Ohta, taking off in the direction of the presumed accident. He wasn't really the 'heroic' type, but now that he knew things like karma and an afterlife existed, he figured it didn't hurt to lend a hand to those in need. Not like it cost him anything.
"Hmmm? Isn't this the neighborhood Ichigo lives in?" noted Ohta, having covered nearly 3km in just under twenty seconds.
As if in response to Ohta's comment, another explosion echoed through the otherwise silent night, drawing his attention to a familiar clinic and, more importantly, a large, bipedal creature with fish-like features and a white mask.
"Well, that's convenient," remarked Ohta, descending toward the creature intending to crush it like the rest. As he got closer, however, he noticed the creature was holding a somewhat familiar young girl with black hair framing her face...
"Let go of Karin, you bastard!" screamed a familiar voice, drawing Ohta's attention to Ichigo, charging recklessly toward the masked creature with a splintered baseball bat.
("He can see it...") noted Ohta, marginally surprised. At the same time, he made a pulling gesture with his right hand, sparing Ichigo the fate of being sent flying by the much larger creature.
Presumably having similar intentions, an inordinately petite girl with raven black hair and black robes reminiscent of a samurai's garb appeared out of nowhere, slicing halfway through the creature's muscular forearm with a katana. This forced the monster to drop Karin, nearly causing her to kiss the pavement before Ohta caught her in his telekinetic grasp.
Outwardly displaying the confusion that Ohta was concealing, the petite, raven-haired girl exclaimed, "Huh!? Who goes there!?" while leaping back to create some distance between herself and the creature.
Instead of responding to the girl's words, Ohta took advantage of the fact the monster no longer had a hostage, thrusting forward with his hand as if it held an invisible spear. He preferred to crush the masked creatures, but that was far from his only method of dealing with them.
Earning shocked looks from both Ichigo and the raven-haired girl, Ohta's thrusting motion caused the upper half of the monster's body, particularly its head, to disappear, replaced by a circular void. What remained of its colossal frame began to dissolve, prompting the raven-haired woman to look where Ohta had been moments before, only to find he had vanished completely...
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Observing the incident from afar, a man with messy, ashen-blonde hair, a somewhat tattered, green-and-white, striped fisherman's hat, dark circles under his eyes, and an overall unkempt appearance remarked, "Well, that complicates things..."
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"Well, looks like this is the end of the line..." mused a man with long, oily brown hair, sun-kissed skin, numerous scars, and light stubble adorning a rugged, battle-weary face. Blood pooled beneath him at an alarming rate, but he still managed a smile as he enjoyed one final cigarette, courtesy of the men surrounding him with guns.
"No final acts of heroism?" asked one of the gunmen, glaring at the man with an ice-cold glimmer in his eyes.
"Nah, I'm done..." replied the man. "You can only step on her toes so many times before death refuses to keep dancing with you. In my current state, I can't even control my bowels, much less give one final hurrah..."
Punctuating his statement, the man pulled the spent cigarette from his mouth, extinguishing it in the blood pooling beneath him as he mused, "See you in Hell, gentlemen..."
Before the men could respond, an explosion ripped through the corpse-littered compound, the final resting place of some of the world's greatest assassins and mercenaries. The scarred man had rigged it to explode the moment his heart stopped, so while he couldn't escape his fate, he didn't go silently into the darkness...
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"Wow. I usually condemn cowards that resort to self-immolation and explosives to take out their enemies, but that was pretty badass," said a woman with pale, lavender-tinged white hair, matching eyes, and skin so fair it could be called luminous. Her ensemble resembled some kind of priestess outfit, but her most striking feature was the strange triangular halo hovering over her head as she tossed a piece of fluffy white popcorn into her mouth.
Staring at the peculiar woman, seated in what looked like a gaming chair as she watched the final moments of his life play out on a floating, semi-transparent screen, the scarred man jokingly remarked, "If I had known someone was watching, I would have made things more cinematic."
"Unlikely," said the peculiar woman, waving away the display and leaning across her somewhat messy desk as she revealed, "The humans of your world are coded to willfully disregard the possibility that all your actions are being observed and judged. Most of you acknowledge the existence of a higher power, but if you structured your existence within the bounds of such knowledge, you wouldn't have the illusion of freedom necessary to ere and develop wisdom."
"So, what, you're some kind of god?" asked the scarred man, eyeing the halo above the woman's head.
"It would be more accurate to call me an Auditor," said the woman. "The Gods of your world violated the clause against direct interference a few too many times, so you've been self-governing for the past few millennia. Lucky you."
"How so?" asked the man.
Instead of answering solely with words, the lavender-haired Auidtor waved her hand, causing a large, semi-transparent display to appear before the man as she explained, "Generally speaking, departed souls that aren't immediately recycled end up in an afterlife prepared by their governing deities. Since there are no gods to regulate this cycle in your world, you fall under the System of Karmic Exchange. Explained in a way you can understand, you can use the Karma you acquired in your previous life to influence your next incarnation."
Staring at the innumerable options listed before him, including things like being born into a wealthy family, having good fortune, or possessing blue eyes, the scarred man perked up as he asked, "Is there an option to keep my memories...?"
"There is," replied the Auditor. At the same time, the display before the man scrolled down rapidly, highlighting the option 'Reincarnation' with a base price of 100,000 Karma. When pressed, however, several additional options popped up, increasing or decreasing the cost based on whether or not he toggled certain detriments or perks. For example, reincarnating in his original world increased the price to more than ten million in a single go.
Looking down at the amount of Karma he had, 108,492, the man was about to ask how the number was calculated when the screen changed, showing him a list of 'achievements' he had accumulated throughout his life. Notably, he gained 10,000 points for graduating from college but lost more than a thousand for having sex before marriage. There was also a darkened option that would have rewarded him 50,000 Karma for finding his soul mate, causing him to frown deeply.
"The human heart is fickle," said the Auditor. "You may have believed the woman you married to be your soul mate, but had remained together for more than six months before her death, your feelings for her would have waned with time. Your actual soul mate was that barista who you couldn't get out of your mind, even though she only served you coffee on a single occasion."
Knowing exactly who the Auditor was referring to, a wry smile developed across the face of the scarred man. It had been years since his encounter with the pixie-haired barista, but she would invariably enter his thoughts whenever he found himself reminiscing about the days before he became a mercenary...
"Hindsight's twenty-twenty..." muttered the man, smiling sardonically as he scrolled through his various accomplishments, fuck ups, and wasted opportunities. In the end, however, he closed out of the screen, returning to the seemingly endless list of options that would shape his next life.
"Any recommendations?" asked the scarred man. "I'm kind of attached to my memories, so I'd rather not give them up."
"Of course," replied the Auditor. "If you Reincarnate to a world you have no prior knowledge of, particularly one where your knowledge would be useless, the cost diminishes considerably. Becoming a rock, tree, beast, or inanimate object is another option, but the most straightforward would be to enter a world filled with Reincarnators. However, as you specifically asked for my recommendation, I would advise against the latter. You lack the strength to survive more than a few years in such a world, and that's if you're unfortunate. The lucky ones die immediately..."
Adopting a wry smile, the scarred man stated, "I'd rather remain human. And just to be safe, I'd like to remain a guy."
Shrugging her shoulders, the Auditor replied, "There is also the option of becoming the champion or apostle of a god. You'd end up as their pawn, but you could have tremendous power and authority over other humans."
Shaking his head, the scarred man said, "As tempting as that sounds, I've never been into high fantasy or science fiction. Besides, I'm honestly tired of fighting. I will if I have to, but I'd prefer to take it easy this time. Maybe open a cafe or something..."
Bringing her finger to her chin, the Auditor hummed, "That's easier said than done. Retaining one's memories after death is a powerful advantage over others, so fate is bound to penalize you somehow. You could be born crippled, develop a chronic disease, lose your entire family in an accident, or be enslaved from birth. Either way, you're bound to experience at least 'some' suffering. The only way to avoid it or, more accurately, offset it is to form a contract with a higher power."
"Like you?" asked the scarred man.
Narrowing her abruptly crimson eyes, the Auditor licked her lips, her smile becoming uncannily wide as she mused, "Careful with your words, human. Most higher powers are not benevolent, regardless of their appearance or how they present themselves. I don't mind giving you a loan or providing you with my blessing, but depending on how you live, you could be stuck repaying me for the next ten-thousand years..."
"Any other options?" asked the scarred man, managing a smile despite the hair on his arms and the back of his neck standing on end.
Returning to normal, the Auditor replied, "Of course. The simplest option is to forsake your memories and choose a few options to stack the odds, however slightly, in your favor. However, if you're set on keeping them, I could...pull a few strings to make things interesting."
Though he had just been warned to be careful with his words, the scarred man replied, "Elaborate."
"Let me choose the world you'll be sent to, and I can guarantee you won't face any major tragedies before you mature," said the Auditor. "Other than being orphaned, of course."
Shrugging his shoulders, the scarred man replied, "So long as you don't throw me to some fantasy world, I don't mind letting you choose. As for being orphaned, it is what it is. I didn't have anyone I could call a parent in this world, so I can do without them in the next."
"Then go ahead and choose your other settings," said the Auditor. "Time doesn't flow in this space, so take as much as you need. After all, there's no changing your mind once you leave."
Nodding his head, the scarred man asked, "Got an extra seat? This might take a while."
Snapping her fingers, the Auditor created a hard, inflexible wooden chair for the scarred man to sit in. He was tempted to ask why she didn't give him one like hers, but rather than wasting time with idle chatter, he took a seat and spent what felt like days picking and choosing what he believed to be the most beneficial settings. This included investing 20,000 Karma toward skipping his early childhood, elementary, and middle school days, but he didn't consider it a waste as experiencing infancy and adolescence as an adult would have been a nightmare...
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"Class is not for sleeping, Yamada-kun," asserted the stern voice of a woman, followed by a light smack, presumably from the spine of a book.
"Hmmm...?"
Raising his head, a young man with messy brown hair and distinctive, amber-brown eyes stared blankly at the face of a petite, bespectacled woman with short brown hair and matching eyes. Contrasting her stern voice, the woman had delicate and kind features, but what confused the youth was the fact she resembled a character from a cartoon, albeit with more detail.
Before he could fully organize his thoughts, the youth responded, "Sorry, Ochi-san." in flawless Japanese, almost as though he had been speaking it his entire life.
Furrowing her brows, Ochi, full name Ochi Misato, asked, "What did I tell you about calling me Ochi-san? It's Ochi-sensei. Seeeenseeeei~!"
Instead of responding to the woman, the youth found himself habitually scanning his surroundings. Like the woman in front of him, everyone else in the class had a cartoonish appearance. Some even had ridiculous hair colors like bright orange.
Earning a concerned look from his teacher, the youth followed his cursory scan with an inspection of his hands, finding that they, too, possessed a distinctly cartoony quality.
"Are you okay, Yamada-kun? If you feel unwell, I can have someone guide you to the Nurse's office."
Though it was a good opportunity to gather his thoughts, Yamada, full name Ohta Yamada, replied, "That won't be necessary. I'm just a bit tired, that's all."
"Well, if you say so..." said Ochi, opening the book in her hand to continue her lesson, walking around the classroom as she cited a few passages in somewhat broken English. In her wake, Ohta immediately closed his eyes, this time sitting upright to avoid attracting attention as he organized his thoughts.
Fortunately, though he was a little confused at first, Ohta, translating to Eyes of the Almighty God, quickly discovered that he had an entire set of memories, beginning from around the time he was in Kindergarten. They were hazy and somewhat fragmented, like memories often were, but they felt familiar.
Furrowing his brows slightly, Ohta opened his eyes, shifting his gaze to the girl seated next to him to ensure she wasn't paying attention to him before turning to his open textbook, notebook, and pencil. There were a few 'abnormalities' within his memories, so he extended the fingers of his right hand toward his pencil, tensing slightly as a blue light surrounded it, followed by it automatically moving into his hand...
("Well, shit...")
...
..
.

Chapter 2: Ripples Beneath the Moon