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Assistant: Title: Date a Bride (Date A Live Fanfiction)
        Author: MzGames MzGames 
        Chapter: 1/21 
        Summary: Betrayed by the one he loved in his past life, our main character awakens in a world completely alien to him.Not as a human, nor as the man he once was, but as a beautiful spirit—a being capable of destroying the world.However, his first steps in this new existence were far from easy.Attacked, captured, and tortured by an organization called DEM, his perspective on this world was turned completely upside down.Can he find a way to rebuild his life and heal from the horrors he has endured? And when the time comes, will he choose forgiveness-or revenge?Let's find out.
        Contents: Chapter 1: What After
    

    


  

  
  
    
     Life moves fast, and as I grow older, it seems to speed up even more.From the moment I first saw the light, from the moment I opened my eyes, it was inevitable that I'd lose the first five years of my life—those early years before I could form consciousness—before I could piece together the black-and-white fragments of childhood memories.I blinked, and I was already stumbling through my first day of kindergarten, holding my mother's hand a little too tightly. Everything was new—overwhelming. My biggest concerns were snack time and whether I'd make friends. Time passed slowly then, as if the world moved at my pace. Playdates, scraped knees, and endless questions filled those early years.I blinked again, and suddenly, I was in elementary school. The world felt a little bigger, but life still moved at a comfortable pace. My family couldn't afford much, so I didn't have any fancy toys, but I made do. I ran through the streets with my friends, racing on foot and pretending our worn-out sneakers were race cars. Homework became part of my routine, but there was still plenty of time to play in the dirt, imagine wild adventures with my siblings, and kick around a battered soccer ball in the empty lot nearby. Those years were simple, filled with curiosity and small victories. And then, I blinked once more, and I was already receiving my goodbye kiss from my mother, ready to start my first year of middle school. So many memories were waiting to be made, and I hoped they'd be more colorful this time...I was lucky that those three years stretched out like a hundred.Everything was fine.I blinked again, and I was getting a farewell hug from my mother, about to begin my first day of high school. Life was starting to feel too fast now. That first year passed in a blur, just as my grades took a dive. Still, during that time, I created so many memories—vivid, colorful moments burned into my mind.Everything was fine.I blinked once more, but this time, there was no warm kiss, nor a goodbye hug.My mother was gone before she could give them to me.All that remained before I started my new journey was a pat on the shoulder from my father. A sad, weary smile as he said goodbye.Everything was fine.College was never an option for me—we barely had enough money to eat one meal a day. Maybe if we had, Mother wouldn't have had to pretend she wasn't hungry just so we could eat her share.To make sure the rest of my family didn't meet the same fate, I left the countryside and went to the big cities in search of work.Maybe my little brothers would live my dream and go to college in my place.Everything was fine.I blinked, and suddenly, I was in my late twenties, surrounded by thousands in the coal mines, working to dig out as much as we could to sell at the end of the day—for the price of a single loaf of bread.I paused to rest, setting my basket of coal on the ground. My entire body was blackened from the dust, the small, cheap mask on my face offering little to no protection.Looking back, I realized just how useless a big brother I had become.I had three younger brothers. The youngest was still in high school, but the other two had already graduated.I promised to take care of them, to be the good big brother they deserved. But I failed to keep those promises.And now, here they were, working with me 100 meters underground, where no light or clean air could reach.I blinked, and suddenly, I was in my early thirties. Time felt like it was racing against me. The years slipped by like weeks. Each day was the same—an endless cycle of hard labor and exhaustion. No matter what I tried, I remained stuck at the bottom of the well.No, maybe I had fallen even deeper this time. Tears filled my eyes as I held my brother's body in my arms, frantically searching for help.I found help, but I didn't have the money to pay for it.After years of working in the coal mines, my younger brother developed lung cancer, and it was already in its late stages.He had kept it hidden from me, not wanting me to stop him from fulfilling his role as the big brother to our youngest sibling—the one who made our dream finally come true by going to college and continuing his studies.He lied to me, just like our other brother had—the one I lost just a year ago.Both of them had lied to me, and I didn't even realize it until I was the only big brother left.Everything was fine.I blinked, but this time, something caught in my throat. I glanced around, confused, before raising my hands to my eyes. My rough, cracked skin stretched over prominent veins, and a faint tremor ran through my fingers.It was a clear sign that I was already in my late thirties, and somehow, I was sitting at a wedding.My younger brother's wedding.He kissed his bride, and the room erupted in applause. I joined in, though my hands trembled with more than just age. A single tear slipped down my cheek.I was the only one left from our family, the last witness to this moment of joy that should have been shared by many. The only one lucky enough to see what he had achieved, despite everything.As I looked around the room, I saw faces filled with happiness—friends my younger brother had made along the way, people who had become his new family. And while pride swelled within me, I couldn't help but feel the weight of absence—the people who should have been standing by my side.The ones who were gone.In that room full of strangers who loved him, I was the last thread connecting him to the past we shared—the only one left to remember. As I clapped along with the crowd, I realized that though surrounded by people, I had never felt more alone.But everything was fine.I blinked, and somehow, I was married, in my forties, all thanks to my younger brother, who pushed me to go through with it.I would be lying if I said I hadn't dreamed of romance, especially back in high school. But as the years slipped by, I figured it was too late for me.Every man dreams of having a family, and for as long as I can remember, I believed that starting one was the ultimate goal—the final mission a man had to accomplish to win in life.My wife wasn't particularly beautiful, nor was she unattractive. She was somewhere in between. Though if she ever heard me say that, I'm sure she'd kill me.After we settled everything, I decided to move back to our home in the countryside—to the land our father had left us with.It was the 1970s, and Japan was in the midst of an industrial boom, with real estate prices skyrocketing.The land gained so much value, and I was wise enough to know I shouldn't leave it behind without taking the legal steps to keep it in our family name.Five years passed, and after many attempts, I was finally blessed with my firstborn—a child of my own flesh and blood.I couldn't describe the joy I felt that day, the feeling of being given another chance at life.I hadn't been a good older brother, but life was offering me another opportunity—to be a good father and husband.I was in tears that day, holding my newborn child in my arms. The weight of that tiny life, so fragile and full of promise, brought a flood of unexpected emotions. It felt like redemption, a chance to do things right, to be the man I hadn't been before.Everything seemed perfect.Yet, despite living a life I never dreamed possible, I carried many regrets, one weighing heavier on my heart than the others.My wife.She was still so young, twenty years younger than me.When she married me, she was just a 22-year-old girl with a bright future ahead of her. Yet, for some reason, she was willing to marry an older man like me.I hadn't proposed the marriage—in fact, I didn't even know her until she approached me after hearing that I was searching for a wife in the village.Each time I asked her why she chose to marry someone like me, she would become quiet, almost annoyed, and simply say that she fell for me at first sight.I wasn't entirely convinced by her answer, but I didn't want to question it further.I accepted it and focused all my energy on making our family successful. After all, it was one of my dreams—the only dream my mother and father ever held for me.I was blessed to live a long life, and over the next 30 years, so much changed. The world around me shifted in ways I never imagined.Even though we lived in the countryside, far from the bustling cities, news of various inventions reached the youth. These innovations, like the arrival of telephones and other modern conveniences, found their way even to our remote corner of the world.As the world evolved, so did the mindset of the younger generation. The traditions that had once been the bedrock of our community began to fade, little by little. The idea of leaving the land of their ancestors, of seeking opportunities in places far from the fields and forests that had sustained us for generations, became more appealing to them.With these changes, I watched as the younger generation quickly sold off their inherited land. The moment they came into possession of their parent's property, they saw it as an opportunity to make quick money rather than a legacy to uphold.Big businesses from the cities started to eye our village, offering large sums for the land that had been in families for generations. The younger ones, eager for a taste of the modern world, were easy targets. They didn't see the value in holding on to what their ancestors had worked so hard to maintain.The older folks resisted at first, clinging to the only life they had ever known. But the pressure became unbearable. The businesses tightened their grip, and when combined with the pleading of their children, who saw no future in farming, they had no choice but to sell.Even I faced the same situation. The offers came, tempting me with amounts I had never seen in my life. But I refused. This land held the memories of my parents, my brothers, and my entire life's work. I couldn't let it go, not for any price.In my 35 years of marriage, I was blessed with three children, and I was even more blessed to raise them right, unlike many others.Even though they sought their futures in the cities, I respected their choice, just as they respected mine. They didn't rely on the possibility of inheritance to build quick wealth, and they certainly didn't pressure me to sell the land.They understood the value of what we had—the memories, the hard work, the sacrifices. They knew that some things couldn't be measured in money. Our land was more than just property; it was a part of who we were. So, while they pursued their dreams in the modern world, they let me hold on to the legacy that had been passed down through generations.But my wife didn't seem to share the same perspective. The problems began when I turned down the first offer to sell the land. Each time I refused a higher and more tempting offer, the situation grew more strained between us.I can't blame her entirely; after all, I was asking her to sacrifice her comfort for my ideals. Even though I found a stable job in the village and had my younger brother's support, I wasn't able to make things easier.Many of her requests were turned down because of me. Sometimes, something as simple as a new pair of shoes would have to wait, just so we could make it to the end of the month.I tried to do all I could to make her happy, but the smile on her face had disappeared, and I couldn't even remember when it had faded.I failed as a husband.I blinked, and I was already over 81 years old.Life moved so fast, but my health didn't seem to keep up.A local doctor advised me to visit the hospital in the big city as soon as possible, but my wife thought otherwise."It's just your imagination," she said. "It's just a passing fever; there's no need to waste money."In the end, as I was working in the field, I collapsed and was rushed to the hospital.It seemed it wasn't my imagination, as my wife had said.Since then, most of my time has been spent in bed.The fields that I once tended with care now lay untended, weeds creeping in where crops used to grow. My hands, once strong and steady, now trembled with weakness. The days seemed to blur together, each one a shadow of the life I used to know.My wife took on the burden of everything I had suddenly left for her, caring for me with a dedication that I couldn't understand.But for some reason, there was no hint of annoyance or trouble in her demeanor. In fact, it seemed as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She was more cheerful than I remembered her ever being. She smiled so much that it made me curious, almost puzzled.From time to time, I would spot strangers visiting our home—mostly men dressed in good clothes, far too polished for our small village. They would talk with my wife for hours in the kitchen, their voices too low for me to hear clearly. When I asked her about them, she would brush it off, saying they were just friends or people from health organizations checking in on us.She never settled on one explanation, but I didn't have the energy to question it further.My health worsened, and I knew my time was near.I closed my eyes, remembering what I had achieved in this life.Even though I had many failures and regrets in the first half of my life, I was able to make changes and accomplish something in the second half.I may have failed as a husband, but at least I succeeded as a father. I raised my children and helped them reach their dreams.That is something I can be proud of.Days went by, and I started to receive less and less attention.My wife used to visit me often, but now she only comes during meals to help me eat or give me my medicine.All that time, I remained in bed, with no one visiting me.I asked my wife about my younger brother and my children, but she said she had already informed them about my condition, but they were too occupied with their own lives to visit just yet.I was sad to hear that, but in a way, I was relieved. I didn't want them to abandon their responsibilities just to sit by my side.In the following days, I was finally blessed with a visitor, but it was someone I didn't expect to see.It was the doctor who had saved my life when I collapsed in the field that day.The fact that he had traveled all the way from the city just to see me—there must have been a serious reason, right?But then again, what could he possibly tell me that I didn't already know? If there was some deadly illness creeping up on me, it hardly mattered. I had lived my life, faced my failures, and made my peace. Whether I met my end sooner or later, it was all the same. I had done what I could, and now, all that was left was the waiting.But that day, I found myself wishing he hadn't come.He greeted me, hesitating before reaching into his bag. Even though my vision wasn't as sharp as it once was, I could still see the regret and uncertainty etched on his face.After taking a deep breath, he pulled out some documents and offered them to me.I didn't take the papers—not out of disrespect, but because I couldn't read the words on them anymore. As I mentioned, my vision wasn't what it used to be.He pulled his hand back, laughing nervously, caught between embarrassment and unease.His face held a deeper expression, something more profound that he struggled to hide."Sir, I'm not sure if what I'm doing is the right thing to do or not but..."He began to speak, and I listened, having little else to do. It was better than spending all day staring at the walls in silence."But my conscience hasn't let me sleep since I checked the full scan of your body the day they brought you to me..."I guessed I was right—it was probably some kind of disease, maybe lung cancer that had finally caught up with me after all those years in the coal mines. After all, lately, I had felt tightness in my chest and struggled to breathe."I'm sorry if my question is a bit personal, but how many years has it been since your marriage?"It was difficult to speak, with the sore feeling in my throat, but I managed to croak out the number. "Thirty-five years...""You'll have to bear with me...I know it's difficult to talk in your current state, but I need you to answer another question."There was a moment of silence. I hesitated, wondering where this was leading, but in the end, I nodded."How many children do you have, and what are their ages?"I took a deep breath, the effort making my chest tighten even more. "I have three children, The oldest is about thirty years old, the middle one is twenty-seven, and the youngest is twenty-three."The doctor nodded, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that unsettled me.He got closer, resting both his hands gently on my body as if trying to hold me still—or perhaps as if he were trying to steady himself."Look, sir...I need you to take what I'm about to say with as open a mind as you can. I know what I'm saying is hard to hear, but please, for the sake of your heart, try your best.""W-What?" I stammered, a flicker of worry igniting in my chest. I had a feeling this wasn't the sad news of me harboring some deadly illness. No, from the way he looked at me, I could tell he knew I had already made peace with my mortality. Any news related to that wouldn't shake me.But whatever he was about to say—whatever he was holding back—was something different, something that would cut deeper."I already tried to reach you weeks ago by phone, but each time, your wife would pick up. The moment I mentioned your name, she would hang up on me, insisting that you were fine. This happened so many times that I knew I had to come in person. But when I arrived a week ago, your wife was the one to open the door for me, and she shut it in my face the moment she realized I came to see you, saying you didn't want any visitors. Luckily for me, she wasn't home this time, and the door was left open... I know what I'm doing might be considered a crime, but I really need to inform you—""JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU HAVE ALREADY!"I didn't know where the energy came from, but I shouted, the sound of my voice surprising even me. It wasn't a roar, but for someone who hadn't spoken above a whisper in weeks, it felt like a thunderclap. Somehow, I even managed to sit up after what felt like an eternity of lying motionless in bed.The doctor flinched at my outburst, instinctively reaching out as if to steady me, worried by the sudden burst of energy. But he hesitated when he saw the determination in my eyes—the silent demand for the truth. He closed his eyes briefly, gathering the strength to say what needed to be said. When he opened them again, his voice was steady."You're sterile..."For a moment, the world around me seemed to tilt. Sterile? Is that the word for men who can't...? Did I hear him right?"What are you saying?" I whispered, though deep down, I already knew what he meant."Sir, when I reviewed your medical history and ran the scans... it became clear that you've been sterile for most of your life. It's not something that could have changed—at least, not without medical intervention. And there's no record of that in your files."I felt the air leave my lungs, as if I'd been punched in the gut. My thoughts raced, trying to make sense of what I'd just heard.The doctor's voice continued, but his words felt distant. "The children you've raised... they couldn't possibly be yours."The room began to spin. My vision blurred, and a tightness gripped my chest. Panic surged through me, making it hard to breathe. My heart pounded so loudly that it drowned out everything else.I reached for reality, but it slipped away like sand through my fingers. Clutching the bed, I tried to steady myself, but everything felt unstable. My head spun, and nausea churned in my stomach.The doctor's face wavered in front of me. I saw his lips moving, but his words were muffled, lost in the haze. He reached out to me, but his hand seemed distant, out of reach."Breathe," he said, his voice cutting through the fog of panic. "Just breathe."I tried to focus on my breathing, though it felt almost impossible. My hands shook, and in the reflection, I could see the fear etched across my face.My weak hand shot out, grabbing the doctor's white coat, pulling him closer. "W-what are you saying? What do you mean they're not my children? I've spent the sweetest, hardest moments with them. I raised them, fed them, gave them love and warmth. I taught them right from wrong. How can you say they're not my children? HOW?"He stood there, listening calmly, pity in his eyes. That look—the sympathy—it only fueled my anguish. I hated it."You're a piece of sh@t," I spat, my voice trembling. "You're one of them, aren't you? What's your game? Why are you lying to me? Why—"Suddenly, my chest tightened. My heart pounded like it was going to burst. I gasped, struggling for breath as pain surged through my body."S-sir—""Stay away from me!" I shouted, pushing him with what little strength I had left."You—""What are you doing in my house!?"Before he could finish, a familiar figure appeared from the shadowed doorway. Both our eyes turned toward her—my wife."I told you before," she snapped, "we don't need you here!"The doctor's eyes met hers, his expression growing even more unsettled. "You're a demon in human skin. How could you do this to him—""Leave...NOW!"The doctor didn't flinch. Instead, he looked back at me, his voice pleading. "Please, sir, I have the evidence. You have to believe me—""D-Didn't you hear her?"His shoulders sagged in defeat. With one last, troubled glance at me, he turned and walked toward the door. As he passed my wife, he whispered something low enough that I barely caught it."I'll make sure to put you behind bars."Then, with a sharp slam of the door, he was gone, leaving the room in a tense silence."What's going on? What did he say?"I struggled to catch my breath, my thoughts tangled in confusion. The pain in my chest was growing worse, but my mind was still spinning. "He... he said the children aren't mine,"Her expression didn't shift, but something darker flickered briefly in her eyes. "And you believed him?""I don't know what to believe, he...he seemed so sure. H-How could he be so certain?"She crossed her arms, standing rigid. "You shouldn't have listened to him. He's just trying to stir up trouble. Our family is our family—"She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing as she noticed my condition. I was clutching my chest, trying in vain to slow the erratic pounding of my heart. Sweat poured down my face as my body trembled.And then, I saw it—a faint, strange smile curled on her lips."You know what..." she said softly, her voice taking on an unsettling tone.She moved closer, slowly sitting beside me on the bed, her hand resting just inches from mine."He might be right...""W-What?" My voice cracked as the word barely escaped my lips.Without another word, she pulled out a bundle of papers from her hands, the rustle of them sounding louder in the tense silence."I was hoping you'd go to your grave without ever knowing this, so you could at least die in peace. But..."I hadn't noticed until then that our eyes no longer met. My head had slumped forward, resting weakly against the bed. My breathing grew ragged, each inhale more erratic and shallow. It felt like an unbearable weight was pressing down on me—my shoulders, my chest, my neck, my jaw, even my back. I couldn't tell where the pain was worst. Desperately, I clutched my chest, hoping to relieve the pressure, but nothing helped."When you were busy with that damned land, I kept myself entertained with the men in the village. It was... a quiet way to pass the time. Honestly, if you'd just sold that cursed land, maybe we could have avoided all this."I didn't want to know what she was saying anymore. No—it's better to say I didn't want to know. I didn't want to believe it."It was a bit tricky to get the land transferred before you died," she continued, almost casually, "but a little fun with the higher-ups made it all work out..."The weight on my chest grew heavier, my breaths coming in short, frantic gasps.She stood up, waving the papers in front of me like some kind of twisted trophy. "You want to know the best part? They're not even your real children, so they won't inherit a single thing from you."She laughed—a sharp, cruel sound that echoed in my ears, drowning out the pounding of my heart. But by then, I had lost track of everything. The room blurred around me, and it felt like I was sinking, unable to breathe.A single tear managed to escape as I watched her walk proudly out of the room, her figure fading from my dimming vision."I-I failed as a father..."That was the last thought I could hold on to before everything went dark.I was born on August 7, 1938, and at the age of 82, on that day... I died.'
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