Shinji Matou at Your Service

Everything before his eyes was incredibly familiar.

The door, the lights, the decorations, the tables and chairs, the dishes, and even the entire restaurant felt so familiar. Even the one discordant element, the person sitting in front of him, was becoming more and more familiar.

It was as if he had returned to the past before transmigration.

Every day, he went to work, came home, played games, caught up on anime, and occasionally argued online. When he got hungry, he would pick up his wallet, head to a nearby restaurant, and grab a beer and a late-night snack.

"Don't just sit there in a daze. This is a top-grade Five Grains Wine that you can't buy on the market. I managed to get it from Semiramis with great difficulty. If you don't drink it, it'll all be mine."

A hand reached over. Instinctively, Shinji picked up the cup and drank it in one go, as if he had done this many times before.

"I'll drink, I'll drink."

"That's the spirit."

As the fine liquor went down his throat, Shinji's mood calmed significantly. Though still complex, he no longer felt as foolish as he had before.

"Is this an illusion?"

"No, everything here is real."

"Real? But this shop—"

"Shouldn't be here, right?"

Shirou took a bite of food and refilled their cups, saying:

"Nothing is impossible. I opened this shop, and I can open it wherever I want."

"You opened it?—You!!!"

Shinji suddenly looked up, and the boy in front of him had somehow transformed into a man in his mid-thirties. The kind smile with squinted eyes was the most familiar memory of the shop's regulars.

"This is my most commonly used appearance. Previously, I was using the spiritual foundation of Amakusa Shirou Tokisada. What you're experiencing is not the same as your traversal."

"You know why I 'Isekaid'?"

Although Shinji knew it was related to the Zelretch, the old man refused to reveal any further information.

"Of course, your soul was handed over to the Old Man Jewel by me."

"You? What exactly is going on?"

"Don't rush. We'll start from the beginning and take it slow. First of all—I'm not so bored that I'd take someone living a peaceful life in a world with both parents, no illness or disaster, no deep-seated grudges, and a moderately successful career—aside from not having a girlfriend—and throw him into the Nasuverse, a world far from being described as wonderful."

"Uh, then why did I traverse?"

"Because you—had already died once!"

"I... died? Don't joke about something like this. How could I have died? You even said I had no illness or disaster, so how could I suddenly..."

The more he spoke, the more he couldn't continue, because Shirou's expression told him it wasn't a joke, and Shirou had no reason to make such a joke.

"I... died... really died?"

"Yes, really."

"How did I die? Why don't I have any memories of it?"

"Because you were drunk that day. Do you remember what happened on the last day before you traversed?"

"I remember."

How could Shinji forget? That was one of the few highlight moments in his otherwise ordinary life.

After a year of preparation, his scores on his second attempt at the graduate school entrance exam were quite good, almost securing his admission to his desired program and advisor. In the project group he was about to leave, he made outstanding contributions. Despite the absence of two key members for various reasons, he completed the final project acceptance with a group of newcomers, earning the client's praise.

The boss gave the project group a big bonus, gave him a significant salary increase, and granted him a few days of paid leave. He even considered giving up graduate school to continue working with his boss, achieving success both academically and professionally.

On the night the salary was deposited, the team members egged him on to treat them to dinner since he had received the most. He didn't decline and dragged everyone to their usual hangout, a restaurant with a sign featuring a sled dog.

Everyone was in high spirits, eating and drinking heartily, causing a ruckus from six until a little past nine when people started leaving due to being unable to hold their liquor. After ensuring everyone got into taxis, he, still tipsy, returned to the restaurant. After drinking two more bottles of beer with the shop owner who had finally found some free time, his memory ended there—

"I don't remember much after that. I think I left, but maybe I didn't…"

"You did leave. If you had stayed a bit longer, it might have been someone else who died instead."

The middle-aged Shirou clinked his glass with Shinji's and continued.

"What do you mean?"

"You know that road outside. Every day, dump trucks pass by, often speeding and running red lights. The pedestrian crossing at the intersection might as well not exist."

"So, I was hit by truck-kun?"

Thinking about it, it wasn't impossible. What Shirou said was true; the dump trucks on that street had been a long-standing issue, always requiring careful attention when crossing. But that night, being drunk, his reactions were slow. Getting hit made sense.

However, Shirou's reaction was strange. He nodded first, then shook his head.

"Yes, you were hit by a dump truck, but—the truck wasn't originally going to hit you."

"What?"

"You were hit because you saved someone. It was around 10:20 PM when you left. The nearby high school's evening study session had just ended. A female student, probably too tired, didn't pay attention while crossing the street. At that moment, a dump truck came by, and you rushed over to push her out of the way. You got crushed instead. When I heard the girl's screams, half of your body had turned into pulp. The girl told me about your act of saving her."

"…"

"…"

"…"

Silence.

If Shinji hadn't experienced so much in the Nasuverse, he would surely have thrown up. But now, he just felt out of sorts.

He had died. He really died, just like that, at the peak of his life.

"Heh."

A bitter smile.

"It really proves that old saying true: joy begets sorrow."

"Do you regret it?"

Shirou patted Shinji's shoulder.

"A bit. After all, I lost my life. It's different from saving someone from drowning, donating money, or volunteering to teach in the mountains."

Shinji wasn't a saint, never had been. The idea of self-sacrifice was something he could imagine but not actually do. Of course, having done it was another matter.

"How is that girl? If the person I exchanged my life for turned out badly, I'd truly regret it."

"She's doing well, very hardworking, and grateful. She said her life was given by you, and since you're not around, she's taken on your responsibilities and duties. She visits your parents every week, works part-time in my shop during her free time from studying, and sends the money to your parents. When your mother was hospitalized, she stayed with her the whole time. When I left, she was already the acting manager of the shop."

"I see. That's good, then I have no regrets."

Shinji picked up the wine jar and desperately drank as if trying to swallow all the bitterness of his past life.