He reached forward. His finger hovered between the two buttons—[RETAIN] and [REBIRTH].
Then he looked at the screen again.
Part 1: The Grey Ceiling
If he chose Rebirth, all of these memories—the beetle, the umbrella tilt, the pickled plums, the silence of his father's hospital room—would vanish. He would be a blank soul in a new body, with new parents, new skies, new pain. No baggage. No regrets. Also no anchors. He reached forward
Was that a penalty? Or a gift?
Kazuki had joined the trading company straight out of a mid-tier university. For thirteen years, he had done something . Reports. Excel sheets. Client entertainment. Late-night emails that received no replies until 10 AM the next day. He had never been promoted to manager. Never been praised. Never been scolded, either. He was a ghost who left a badge swipe every morning. Part 1: The Grey Ceiling If he chose
The can slipped from his fingers. Beer pooled on the tatami mat. He didn't move to clean it. No regrets