"Oi, Kannon! Don't you dare fall asleep again!" Aiko's voice sliced through the air like a katana, sharp and unrelenting. She stood over me, hands on her hips, her dark ponytail swaying as she glared. "You're so lazy it's embarrassing. Get up already!"
I groaned, rolling onto my side on the worn tatami mat of the kenjutsu training center. "Leave me alone, Aiko. You always drag me here, and I just want to nap. You're my childhood friend, sure, but that doesn't mean you can force me into this nonsense."
She huffed, crossing her arms. "Irritating? Me? You're the one who's insufferable, you know that? Even for a prodigy, you're a total slacker."
Before I could fire back, a shadow loomed from the back of the dojo. A boy stepped forward, his wooden bokken gripped tightly in his hands. "Kannon-san! Sensei told me to spar with you."
I squinted at him, propping myself up on one elbow. "Wait a sec. Who are you, and why should I bother fighting you?"
He blinked, then bowed hastily. "Oh, right! Sorry, Kannon-san. I'm Fuji Ito, the new student. I just joined today."
"Mmm, okay. Fine. It's a fight, then." I sighed, dragging myself to my feet. Aiko smirked from the sidelines, clearly enjoying this too much.
Fuji and I squared off, the faint scent of polished wood and sweat hanging in the air. He struck a stance—Hassō-no-kamae, if I wasn't mistaken—his posture stiff and awkward. I closed my eyes, letting my instincts take over. A heartbeat later, there was a thud. Fuji was sprawled on the ground, blinking up at me in confusion.
"Hmmph," I muttered, scratching the back of my head. "Did you pick up kenjutsu from some internet tutorial? That stance was perfectly wrong. Anyway, bye." I turned and bolted for the exit before Sensei could rope me into anything else.
Let me introduce myself properly. I'm Kannon, eighteen years old—sorry, eighteen-year-old man. I'm no ordinary guy. People call me a prodigy at, well, everything. I can cook a mean ramen, dismantle anyone in a fight, and ace science and mechanics like it's nothing. I even know how to craft guns and nuclear missiles—perks of having a gunsmith dad and a nuclear physicist mom. Pretty cool, right?
Aiko caught up to me outside, slinging an arm over my shoulder. "Lazy! Why'd you ditch me back there?"
I shrugged her off. "You're fine on your own. And stop acting like some domineering queen—you're terrible at it."
She pouted, but I ignored her. Aiko's a good girl, don't get me wrong, but her attempts at being tough always flop. "Anyway, my house is here. See you tomorrow, Aiko."
"Bye, lazy!" she called after me, her voice fading as I slipped inside.
The moment I opened my bedroom door, the world shifted. My sanctuary awaited—walls plastered with photos of strong, commanding women staring down at me
I flopped onto my bed, grinning at the familiar sight of my room—walls plastered with photos of strong, commanding women staring down at me. This was my sanctuary, my escape. I'd always dreamed of a life where a dominating woman would take care of me—love me, protect me, handle everything while I just kicked back and rested. Perfect, right?
I closed my eyes, letting that fantasy wash over me. Outside, the sky rumbled, a distant storm rolling in. I didn't think much of it—until a deafening crack split the air. Pain exploded in my skull, white-hot and blinding, as a thunderbolt tore through my window and struck me square in the head. The last thing I felt was the jolt, the smell of scorched air, and then—nothing.
When I opened my eyes again, I wasn't in my room. I wasn't even in my body, or so it felt. A boundless expanse of light stretched around me, warm and disorienting. Before me hovered a figure—ethereal, radiant, with wings shimmering like molten gold. An angel.
"What the hell?!" I yelped, staggering back. "I'm dead, aren't I? That lightning—it hit me right in the head! I can still feel the buzz!"
The angel tilted its head, its expression calm and unreadable. "Yes, Kannon. You've died. A thunderbolt, as you said. Quite an abrupt end."
"Abrupt?!" I ran a hand through my hair—or tried to, only to realize I didn't have a proper body here. "That's an understatement! I was just chilling in my room! How does a storm even do that? Was my roof made of paper or something?"
"Nature is unpredictable," the angel said, its voice smooth and melodic, like a distant chime. "Your death wasn't planned or fated. It simply… happened."
I crossed my arms, or at least imagined I did. "Great. So I'm not some chosen hero or anything? No grand destiny?"
"No," the angel replied, its wings fluttering slightly. "You're an ordinary soul caught in an ordinary accident. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Figures," I muttered. "So what now? Is this heaven? Hell? Some weird waiting room?"
"This is a space between worlds," the angel explained. "A place where souls pass through after death. I'm here to process yours."
"Process?" I blinked. "Like paperwork? You're some kind of afterlife bureaucrat?"
The angel's lips twitched, almost a smile. "In a manner of speaking. My role is to assess your karma and guide you to what comes next."
"Karma?" I scratched my head—or the memory of it. "You mean like good deeds and bad deeds? That stuff?"
"Exactly," the angel said. "Every action in your life—every meal you cooked, every fight you won, every time you helped or ignored someone—it's all recorded. I'm here to tally it up."
"Okay, hold on," I said, leaning forward. "I'm no saint. I'm just a lazy guy who's good at stuff—cooking, fighting, science, mechanics. My parents taught me some wild skills, sure, but I mostly just napped and dreamed about strong women. How's my tally looking?"
The angel paused, its glowing eyes narrowing as if reading something invisible. "Your life was… balanced. You weren't cruel, but nor were you selfless. Your talents helped others at times, even if you didn't always intend it. In the end, your karma is neutral—neither remarkable nor condemnable."
"Neutral, huh?" I smirked. "Sounds about right. So what's that mean for me? Do I just float here forever?"
"No," the angel said. "Neutral karma grants you reincarnation—a new life in a new world. It's standard procedure for souls like yours."
"Reincarnation?!" I laughed. "Like those isekai stories? Except I didn't get hit by a truck—just a freaking lightning bolt. Okay, I'll bite. Where are you sending me?"
The angel tilted its head again. "That's where it gets interesting. Most souls are assigned randomly, but I can offer you a small choice. A preference, if you will. Tell me, Kannon—what kind of world do you want?"
I didn't even need to think. "A world where women dominate over men. Strong, commanding women who run everything. I want to sit back, relax, and let them take care of me—love me, protect me, the whole deal. That's my dream."
The angel studied me for a long moment, its expression unreadable. "An unusual request," it said finally. "But not impossible. Your karma doesn't oppose it, and the rules allow for minor adjustments."
"Minor adjustments?" I raised an eyebrow. "You're not gonna half-ass this, are you? I want the full experience—badass ladies in charge, no exceptions."
"I understand," the angel said, its tone softening. "I'll sent you to a world where women hold power, as you've described. It won't be a punishment or a reward—just a new life as you wished."
"Sweet!" I grinned. "Oh, and don't send me back to my old world. I'm done with that place. Give me something fresh."
"Agreed," the angel said. It raised its hands, and the light around us flared, warm and electric. "Prepare yourself, Kannon. Your next life begins now."
"Wait—how's this gonna work?" I called out. "Am I gonna be a kid again, or—" My voice cut off as the beams swallowed me, pulling me into a vortex of brilliance. The angel's final words echoed faintly: "You'll see."
When I came to, I was… small. Really small. A pair of strong, gentle hands cradled me, and a woman's voice cooed overhead. I blinked up at her—tall, regal, her eyes sharp with authority. A newborn? Me? In her arms?
I grinned inwardly. Oh yeah. This is gonna be good.