It was a bright morning as the sun rose over the coast of Johannesburg, South Africa. The city was already bustling with cars and people moving about.
In a certain luxurious, two-story house, five cars were parked in the driveway. The high-security walls, topped with electric fencing, and the two uniformed G4S security guards at the gate made it clear that this was no ordinary home.
Inside, in one of the bedrooms, a teenage boy was getting dressed. He buttoned up his crisp white shirt, tucked it neatly into his black pants, fastened his black belt, and adjusted his black tie. Slipping on polished black school shoes, he took one last look in the mirror. His short black hair was neatly combed, and his dark skin had a light, natural glow in the morning sunlight.
"Matthews!" a woman's voice called from downstairs. "Hurry up! What's taking you so long?"
"I'm done, Mom! Just a moment!" Matthews replied.
He sighed as he combed his hair one last time, thinking to himself, African mothers... Then, grabbing his laptop bag, he walked out of his room and headed downstairs.
In the living room, his mother stood waiting, dressed in a brown suit with matching pants and a black pullover sweater. Matthews raised an eyebrow.
"Why are you dressing like it's cold outside?" he asked.
"This isn't the time for questions, Matthews. We'll be late! Let's go!" she said sternly.
Matthews internally scoffed. Really? You still have an hour, and your office is just 20 minutes away by car. I should be the one worried-I only have about 30 minutes left.
They stepped outside and got into a sleek black BMW. Matthews, behind the wheel, watched as the gates opened before speeding off.
Sorry, Mom. I'll be a little fast today.
As the car picked up speed, his mother tensed up.
"Are you trying to kill me?!" she snapped.
Ignoring her protests, Matthews focused on the road. Soon, they arrived at his mother's workplace.
"I'll see you tonight," he said as she stepped out.
"Don't be reckless, okay? Drive safely to school!" she warned.
Matthews smirked. "No problem."
However, in his mind, he thought, Does she really think I'd drive that slow? The speed limit is 90 km/h, so why not go all out?
He sped off toward school, arriving in record time. Pulling into the parking lot, he quickly grabbed his bag and rushed toward his class. But as he stepped in, he realized the teacher was already there, preparing to start the lesson.
"Matthews? Why are you late again?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Sorry, madam. I overslept," Matthews replied.
"And why is that? Were you watching movies all night? Justice League? Avengers?" she questioned.
Matthews internally sighed. Well, not exactly... I was watching anime.
But instead, he said, "No, madam. We had some family business to sort out, and we finished late at night."
The teacher scoffed. "Yeah, I don't care about your family business or whatever. Meet me after class for punishment."
Matthews sighed and stepped into the classroom as quiet snickers echoed around him. His classmates barely held back their laughter. He ignored them and walked to his seat, settling in the left corner of the room.
The teacher cleared her throat and addressed the class. "Alright, today we will be tackling ambiguous sentences. I want you to determine who is performing the action in each sentence. Let's begin."
She turned to the board and wrote:
"John beat up James while he was drunk."
Then she turned back to the class. "So, who was drunk? James or John?"
Matthews leaned back in his chair, thinking. Wait... at first glance, it seems like James was the one who was drunk. But looking at it again, there's no reason it couldn't be John instead. The sentence doesn't clarify-it could be either one.
A girl raised her hand hesitantly. "Is it James?"
The teacher narrowed her eyes. "Why are you asking me? I told you to tell me. Or better yet-why did you phrase it as a question instead of confidently stating your answer?"
The girl shifted uncomfortably. "Well... it's still pretty unclear to me who was drunk."
The teacher nodded approvingly. "Precisely. This statement is ambiguous-you can't tell for sure who was drunk. Sentences like these, despite being grammatically correct, should be avoided in formal writing because they create confusion. That's my point for today: always strive for clarity in your essays."
Matthews leaned back in his chair, thinking, She definitely has a strange way of teaching. She's more of a 'show, don't tell' kind of teacher.
5 PM - End classes
The scene shifted to later in the afternoon. Classes had ended, and Matthews stood in front of the English teacher's office. As he walked in, she glanced up at him.
"Honestly, you're such a pity. You can go-I've forgiven you," she said casually.
Matthews blinked in surprise. "Uh... thank you very much, madam," he replied, wasting no time before leaving.
He headed to the parking lot, got into his car, and began driving home. As he sped down the familiar roads, his mind drifted.
"This is my normal life. Nothing unusual. Being the son of a millionaire, I've always seen the world as good. I had no idea what was coming next..."
Soon, he arrived home. Stepping into his room, he unbuttoned his uniform shirt and changed into a comfortable orange T-shirt and black shorts. He sat down at his desk, powered on his PC, and stretched.
"Time to watch some more anime episodes. Good thing tomorrow's Saturday-no classes!"
He binge-watched for hours, completely lost in his favorite shows. Before he knew it, it was 10 PM. His eyelids grew heavy, and before he could even shut down his PC, he dozed off.
The first thing he felt was cold. A deep, biting cold.
A strange wind rushed past him, cutting through his skin like he was outside on a winter night. Confused, his body shivered as he stirred from his sleep. Something was wrong.
His eyes fluttered open, and his heart nearly stopped.
He wasn't in his room. He wasn't even in his bed.
He was lying on the sidewalk of a tarmac road.
Disoriented, he quickly sat up, his hands pressing against the rough concrete. His breath quickened as he took in his surroundings. There were buildings-tall, unfamiliar buildings-that he had never seen before.
"Wait... why am I sleeping here? Am I dreaming?"
His confusion deepened when he spotted a beggar sitting on the sidewalk nearby. Desperate for answers, he turned to the man.
"Excuse me! Where is this place?"
The beggar looked at him, puzzled, and then muttered something in a language Matthews didn't fully understand. But the moment he heard it, his eyes widened in shock.
"That's... Japanese!"
He wasn't fluent, but years of watching Japanese-dubbed anime with English subtitles made him recognize the language instantly. His pulse pounded in his ears.
Japanese? Why would someone be speaking Japanese?
That's when his eyes caught something even more shocking-a massive digital billboard across the street. Bright lights flashed against the night sky, displaying clear, bold words:
"WELCOME TO TOKYO"
Matthews froze, his breath hitching in his throat. His mind raced as the truth slowly settled in.
"Wait..." he whispered, eyes widening in disbelief.
"What happened? AM I IN JAPAN?!"