The wish of ryosuke
Ryosuke was an ordinary boy, an orphan since birth. He grew up in a small orphanage, cared for by an old granny and her daughter.
Since he was ten, he had done odd jobs to help them. Early mornings delivering newspapers, evenings helping clean and cook—Ryosuke never complained.
His favourite moments, though, were the evenings when all the children gathered to watch movies and anime. Naruto was always a hit. He laughed with the others, forgetting, even if only for a while, that Granny had been working all day to provide for them.
Sometimes, as he stared at the TV screen, Ryosuke wondered… what would it be like to really live in a world like this?
When Ryosuke turned fifteen, he got a part-time job at a café, thanks to his friendly speaking skills and the help of Granny's friends. He also worked as a delivery boy, all while continuing his usual odd jobs. Every penny he earned went straight to supporting the orphanage.
Granny's health began to fail quietly, the way a candle burned lower without anyone noticing. She still woke early and smiled at the children, still insisted she was fine whenever Big Sister asked. To most people, nothing seemed wrong.
Ryosuke noticed the small things instead. The faint tremor in her hands. The pauses between her breaths when she thought no one was watching. He saw how she leaned against the wall before standing, how she laughed it off afterward.
He told himself it was nothing. Granny had always been strong, and there was always something else that needed doing. So he kept working—school during the day, the café after classes, deliveries whenever he could—bringing money home and placing it into Granny's hands without saying much.
When she collapsed, it happened on an ordinary day, while Ryosuke was out working. By the time he returned, the orphanage felt quieter than usual, as if the air itself had thinned.
He stood beside her bed, listening to the machines, and stayed silent. From then on, Ryosuke learned how to hold himself together for others, even as something inside him slowly closed.
After that day, Ryosuke became even more careful with his time. He studied, worked, and helped around the orphanage with quiet efficiency, saying little but doing more than before. Big Sister noticed the change, though she never said anything.
The children began relying on him without realizing it, and Ryosuke accepted that role naturally. Life moved forward, slower and heavier, yet still familiar.
On the night it ended, Ryosuke left the café later than usual. Exhaustion weighed on his steps as he crossed the dimly lit road on his way home.
He never saw the headlights until they were too close.
The sound came first, then pain—
and then nothing at all.
Darkness gave way to nothingness.
Ryosuke felt weightless, as if the burdens of his old life—the orphanage, the café, the constant work—had been stripped from him all at once. There was no pain, no sound, no thought… nothing but quiet.
Then a faint warmth spread through him, soft and steady, almost like someone cradling him without speaking. His mind, free from the clutter of years, drifted.
I just want to be free.
The thought was not loud, not desperate—just an acknowledgment of the life he had lived and the life he longed for.
Suddenly, a pulse of energy, unfamiliar yet alive, wrapped around him. Colors, shapes, and sensations rushed past his mind like water. He tried to focus, to grab onto something familiar, but there was nothing. Only the sense of movement, of being carried somewhere else.
Ryosuke opened his eyes.
The world was bright. The air smelled of leaves and sun. Birds called somewhere in the distance, and the ground beneath him was solid, real, and warm. He was alive.
Something about it felt… familiar. A village nearby, a small figure running with agility through the streets, the subtle pulse in the air—he knew it. He had seen it before. In shows. In manga. Naruto.
He was here. He was really here.
(book on hold)