2 Worlds Collide

A searing flash of pain shot through my skull, like a thousand needles piercing my brain. I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. Each throb reverberated into a sickening wave of nausea.

Slowly, with gritted teeth, I forced my eyelids open. Blurry shapes danced before me, disorienting and unfamiliar. As the pain began to subside, a vast window came into focus, the sprawling cityscape of Tokyo sliding past. Where was I? This wasn't my cramped orphanage room.

A jolt of confusion zipped through me. Then, a sound - a soft electronic ding of a notification. My gaze dropped, landing on a sleek device nestled in my lap. A laptop, its screen dark. Something about it seemed strange, out of place in this... was I on a train?

My finger hovered over the trackpad and with a gentle click, the screen flickered to life. My breath hitched. On the display was a simple text document, already open.

But it wasn't the line of text that made my stomach churn. It was the impossibility of it all - the bus, the mysterious laptop, and the sharp, lingering remnants of a pain that shouldn't exist after...

After the truck.

No. I refused to let those thoughts intrude. Instead, I focused on the screen, a surge of adrenaline pushing back the creeping dread.

The words pulsed on the screen: 'Hello Akira Ueno.'

You are currently on a bus on the way to your new apartment in Tokyo. Below is the background for this world, please read it thuroughly.

This world is much the same as your original world but with many differences in the specifics. Different celebrities, stories, music, etc. But the general history, geography, and nations are identical.

Your belongings consist of everything in the backpack under the seat and the black carry-on suitcase placed in the overhead compartment. All important documents are situated in your backpack.

You also have a safe financial situation with 100 million yen in your account.

As a bonus, I have increased your base singing and dancing skill, and have enhanced your memory to remember every minute detail in any song you listened to in your past life.

As for how I did all of this, I did say I would give you a new chance.

Be the superstar you were meant to be and live a good life. This document will automatically delete in 20 minutes. Goodbye. 

The document blurred before me. This was all too much - the bus, the apartment, that ridiculous sum of money...

My hand instinctively fished through my pocket, searching for something familiar. My fingers brushed against the worn leather of my wallet, the slightly cracked screen of my phone. I pulled them out, a desperate need to anchor myself to something real grounding me.

The ID card inside my wallet stared back at me. It was my face. But the birthdate sent a chill down my spine: June 9, 2002. I did the quick mental calculation... I was 22? 

A glance at the phone's cracked screen confirmed it - October 3rd, 2019. My stomach churned. I was the same age, somehow, but thrust back five years.

"No reason to dwell on it now," I muttered, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. This strange, twisted chance...maybe it was warped, but it was still a chance.

Going to google, my fingers flew across the interface, a familiar name burning in my mind: Michael Jackson. The search results popped up, but this 'Michael Jackson' wasn't the King of Pop. Instead, it was a profile of some guy from the United States, with photos of barbeques and family gatherings where the biggest star was an overly enthusiastic golden retriever.

Could it be? I fired off a flurry of other names. Justin Timberlake, Tyler, the Creator, Joji... nothing, not a single hit related to music. Just more regular people, their lives untouched by the rhythm and beats that had shaped my world.

"Since the music in this world is different..." I muttered, the words catching in my throat. A smile spread across my face, a strange mix of excitement and something akin to disbelief. It was real. This world... It was a blank canvas.

I closed my eyes, and a silent prayer spilled from my lips. To whatever god, demon, or random quirk of the universe had engineered this... thank you. This was a chance, messy and strange as it was, but a chance nonetheless. This world wasn't just getting Akira Ueno. It was getting a full-blown superstar.

The jolt of the bus braking brought me back to reality. It had come to a stop, the driver's muffled announcement barely registering in my mind. My feet moved on autopilot, collecting my backpack and suitcase as I exited the bus. A modest apartment building loomed before me, the rising evening sun casting long shadows across its weathered facade.

Lugging my new life behind me, I trudged up to the second floor. Apartment 5, then apartment 6... but my progress was halted by a small cluster of people gathered near the door of the latter. Two adults, a man and a woman, stood with protective postures. Beside them, a girl around my own age peeked out curiously, a blue baseball cap tilted on her head. Two younger children clung to her side, wide-eyed and a little afraid.

Excuse me," I coughed, my voice startling the group.

Their eyes snapped to me, and something about their reaction sent a shiver through me. It wasn't the curiosity I expected, especially from the girl with the cap. Instead, the adults flinched, hands moving instinctively to shield her. They regarded me with a mix of apprehension and outright fear.

What had I done to deserve that? My clothes didn't look that disreputable, did they? Before I could puzzle it out, the girl took center stage, eclipsing the uneasy adults.

My breath caught in my throat. She was, without exaggeration, the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. Her hair wasn't a regular brown or blonde, but a captivating shade of purple, falling in soft waves. A cute face, a button nose, and rosy lips - but it was her eyes that knocked me off balance. They were purple, an echoing gradient that seemed to pull me in.

"Uhm, hi," I managed, a slight smile pulling at my lips. "I think my apartment is just after this one?"

The man's wariness hadn't completely faded, but his shoulders relaxed marginally. "Ah, sorry about that, we were just..." He faltered, glancing at the girl and the children. "Just blocking your way there."

"No problem," I said quickly, squeezing past them to my own door. The purple-haired girl hadn't looked away. Our eyes met briefly, and a flicker of something I couldn't name passed between us. 

The key ring jingled in my pocket as I fumbled for the right one. It felt almost symbolic - a new life, a new set of keys. Yet, a prickling sensation at the back of my neck told me I wasn't being very subtle. A glance over my shoulder confirmed it.

They were all still staring. Four pairs of eyes, boring into my back with varying degrees of unease and fascination. The purple-haired girl's gaze lingered the longest, her expression unreadable.

An awkward silence stretched, punctuated only by the sounds of keys finally sliding into the lock. I coughed lightly, breaking the tension. "Well," I chuckled nervously, "it was nice to meet you all."

With that, I finally managed to unlock the door and escape into the unknown territory of my new apartment. As the door swung shut behind me, it felt like a curtain closing on my first act in this strange new world.

[Ai POV] 

He closed the door of his apartment, and I was still standing there, staring. My mouth hung slightly open in shock, and I didn't even realize it until it was too late.

Panic flashed through me. Had he noticed? He'd be a neighbor, bound to figure out who I was sooner or later. Damn, I thought this quiet building was just full of retirees. No chance of anyone recognizing me.

My practiced smile snapped back into place. Curved just slightly, lips stretched, a gentle pressure to make my eyes crinkle at the corners - perfect.

"Shit, shit, shit," Ichigo muttered under his breath.

"Ichigo, don't swear in front of the kids."

A tug on my hand brought my eyes down to Ruby. She was frowning, a complicated mix of worry and suspicion. "Mama, is everything okay?"

"Everything's perfect, Ruby!" My voice chirped with forced enthusiasm, the practiced kind meant to soothe and reassure. It was my own version of love, the only one I knew how to give.

"Whatever," Aqua mumbled. "We can only hope he doesn't figure it out. He didn't seem to know who you were, at least."

"Hmph. A human who doesn't even know Mama. He's worthless." 

Aqua sighed. "Ruby, not everyone is obsessed with idols like you." The usual back and forth, a strange comfort amidst the chaos. They were so cute, my babies.

"Well, Aqua's right. We just have to cross our fingers," I said, my voice airy. But the memory of that brief connection with the handsome stranger sent a blush creeping onto my cheeks. Miyako's deadpan stare said it all - busted.

"It seems you have a type Ai. But let me reiterate, do not get involved with anything scandalous. You already have two nuclear bombs waiting to explode."

"Aw, but don't you think I need friends, President?" I tried to sound playful, but a desperate edge snuck through. "And maybe I should apologize for being rude?" 

Pushing his glasses up, the president gives me a stern glare as I begin to walk into my apartment.

"Ai. No. Absolutely not. Outings with the children are already risky. Romance with a possible civilian? It's out of the question."

I swiveled away, a pout tugging at my lips. "Hmm, but you know I'm a greedy idol." 

"Tsk. Damned idol," Ichigo growled. "And don't even think about getting pregnant again."

"B-Be quiet, old man!"

He sighed, and I could practically hear his eye roll. "Whatever. Don't forget practice on Saturday. Enjoy your time off for now." 

I rested my forehead against the cool door, taking a moment to reel in my emotions. 

"Mama, why is your face red?"

Sinking down into a crouch, I bury my face into my hands.

Now even my sweet Ruby is bullying me! The weight of my secret life pressed against me harder than ever. Perhaps, just this once... maybe just a tiny taste of normalcy wouldn't hurt? 

[Akira POV] 

My backpack hit the table with a satisfying thud. This was...home? I took a slow, disbelieving turn, taking in my new apartment. It was fully furnished, far beyond the cramped quarters I was used to. An actual living room, two bedrooms all to myself, a bathroom that didn't make me fear catching some weird fungus from the cracked tiles. If someone had told me a few months ago this would be my life, I would have laughed in their face.

I moved from room to room, marveling at the space I suddenly had. I could actually spread out, have a corner for myself... maybe even set up a small studio? Compared to the orphanage where three of us shared a wardrobe, this felt like I'd won the lottery.

Sadly, my suitcase wasn't exactly overflowing. A few changes of clothes, toiletries, and some beat-up sneakers I'd been desperately needing to replace. Hanging everything in the closet felt strangely absurd - it barely filled a quarter of it. 

But, the document... It promised funds, the means to replace it all. Tomorrow, I'd hit the stores and for the first time, buy some decent clothes. Clothes that weren't faded hand-me-downs but chosen by me. 

I collapsed on the sofa, a laugh bubbling up from deep inside me. It was a slightly manic laugh, born from a mix of exhaustion and the sheer absurdity of it all. One moment I was in a hospital bed, the next I'm...here. 

Grabbing my phone, I scrolled through some apps, landing on what felt like the most familiar one: a food delivery service. The selection made my head spin - not the stale cafeteria food I was used to, but rich curries, juicy burgers, even colorful sushi platters.

With a touch of recklessness, I ordered way more than I could finish. It felt strangely decadent, a symbol of this new world's possibilities. While waiting for the food, I turned to my next priority. That laptop was burning a hole in my backpack.

Time to put those weird "enhancements" to the test. But what song should I choose first? The problem wasn't a lack of material; it was what would work best in this world. 

I needed a song - catchy, easy enough for me to nail the instrumental and let my voice be the forefront. Something that would grab attention immediately. A quick YouTube search for "popular songs" sent me down a confusing spiral. Familiar names were nowhere to be found. Instead, poppy idol groups and rappers with face tattoos dominated the charts. 

I started jotting down notes, analyzing the beats, the structure, and what made these hits tick. Autoplay kicked in while I worked, filling the apartment with a mishmash of sounds. 

Just as a particularly snappy rap track was fading out, the doorbell's chirp echoed through the apartment. I bounced up. Time to experience the sheer luxury of food that wasn't mass-produced in a cafeteria.

Delivery bag in hand, I returned to my laptop, the smell of spices making my stomach growl even louder. But as I plopped down on the sofa, a new video caught my eye. Autoplay, it seemed, had decided on an idol performance of some kind. Seven girls in a whirlwind of frilly dresses and bouncy ponytails took over the screen. Typical idol fare, I supposed, but something about the girl in the center...she looked strangely familiar.

"What, that's..." The words trailed off, replaced by a sense of dawning disbelief. "That's my neighbor. Huh, so that's why they were being so secretive."

The pieces fell into place. The way the adults had acted, the two children clinging to her possessivelyâ€" not fans, but family. 

"Don't tell me she has twins...?" I muttered, my eyes widening. The idea of that gorgeous girl my age, the one who made even the briefest of eye contact feel electric, being a mom to two kids sent my head spinning. 

I clicked on the video again, watching her intently. Her movements were basically flawless, the smile perfect, but with my new knowledge, I noticed the slight stiffness when she knelt to sing to the audience.

She was undeniably talented, that much was clear. Yet, was the idol life what she truly wanted, or just something she endured?

A pang of something akin to protectiveness surprised me. The entertainment world was a shark tank, and even as I schemed for my own success, I couldn't imagine this girl, this mother, getting chewed up and spat out by it. And was there...was there the tiniest flicker of envy? To have a family, a place to belong, even if it was shrouded in secrecy? It was a longing I didn't dare let myself truly acknowledge.

The food, once so tempting, suddenly felt heavy in my stomach. This wasn't just some apartment building. It was her sanctuary, a place away from the spotlight and the demands. And I, without even realizing it, had stumbled into her world.