Shizuku's current status could be summed up in three words: Wet. Hungry. Done. Her feet squelched with every step as she trudged through the godforsaken forest barefoot, each footfall producing a sound that felt like a personal attack. Her medieval tunic was torn at the hem, clinging to her skin in uncomfortable patches of dampness, and her hair was full of leaves, twigs, possibly a caterpillar or two. And her hands? Oh, her hands were covered in soot from her latest "Oops-I-Cast-Fireball-Again" moment. Her only consolation was that she hadn't accidentally set herself on fire. Yet. At some point, she was pretty sure a beetle had crawled down her back. She hadn't found it yet. She tried not to think about it.
"This is not what they meant by magical reincarnation," she muttered, kicking a glowing mushroom. It squeaked. She screamed. Then lit it on fire just to be safe. Honestly, that mushroom had it coming.
She had been wandering this suspiciously aggressive forest for what felt like hours. Maybe days. Time meant nothing in a world where everything either tried to bite her or dripped slime. And sometimes both.
"All I wanted was snacks and Wi-Fi. Instead, I'm stuck in the worst DLC of Dark Souls: Tree Edition."
The trees themselves seemed hostile. They creaked ominously even when there was no wind. Birds didn't chirp here—they cackled. And every bush looked like it was hiding a jump-scare encounter.
Shizuku wiped her forehead with a scorched sleeve and sighed. "Okay. Think, Shizuku. You've trained for this. You've played Monster Hunter, Skyrim, and watched that one anime where the guy builds a castle out of slimes. This is basically that. Just with worse lighting."
She crouched low behind a bush that smelled like someone had set fire to wet dog fur and peered into the clearing ahead. Three monsters. They looked like wolves made of melting jelly. Their bodies jiggled. Their teeth did not. They slithered more than they walked, making wet slap-slap noises on the grass. It was disgusting. Visually. Audibly. Spiritually.
Shizuku narrowed her eyes. "If I die to a pack of gelatin dogs, I'm haunting that stupid goddess until the end of time."
She scanned the area for anything remotely useful. Stick? Check. Sharp rock? Check. Anxiety? Triple check.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she muttered her plan. "All right. Classic bait and burn. I lure one, fireball it, scream, panic, run in circles, accidentally kill the rest. Easy."
She stood up, waved her arms, and shouted, "HEY, SLIME DOGS! WHO WANTS TO BECOME A SOUP INGREDIENT?"
All three turned toward her in unison. Their entire bodies wobbled.
"Note to self: never taunt the Jell-O."
They lunged.
Shizuku did a very undignified dodge-roll behind a tree, raised her hand, and yelled, "BOOMY, DO YOUR THING!"
A fireball blasted from her palm and hit the first slime-dog square in its jiggly face. It exploded like a pudding under pressure.
The other two kept coming.
She screamed. Loudly. And ran.
"OKAY PLAN B: JUST YELL AND SHOOT!"
Another fireball. Another explosion.
By the time she'd finished, the entire clearing was a smoldering crater and her hair was slightly singed.
She took a breath. Wobbled slightly. Then struck a victory pose.
"Level up: +3 Firepower, +1 Screaming, -20 Dignity."
She collapsed against a log, panting. Her stomach growled. She pulled out a burnt mushroom she had "grilled" earlier using a controlled flame spell. Or at least… she tried to. The mushroom had caught fire again. It was currently still burning. She sighed and took a bite anyway.
"Crunchy. Just like regret."
It tasted like charcoal and despair. But it was something.
By nightfall—at least she thought it was nightfall; the sky was just slightly darker than usual—Shizuku had gathered a respectable collection of questionable items:
• One jagged stick she named Stabbity.
• A leaf she was using as a spoon.
• A glowing rock that buzzed when she held it too long.
• And an overwhelming sense of betrayal from the universe.
She sat by her tiny fire, glaring into the flames.
"This is fine," she said to no one. "I always wanted to star in my own survival horror anime. With no plot. No support cast. Just me, a flaming twig, and a lizard-tailed squirrel who keeps following me."
The squirrel chattered from a nearby tree. She pointed at it.
"You are not the animal companion. You betrayed me. I saw you watching when the slimes attacked."
She threw a pinecone at it. It dodged like a ninja and vanished into the trees.
"Chad the Traitor," she growled. "I hope something eats you."
Her fire sputtered slightly, and for a moment, the silence of the forest pressed in. Leaves rustled overhead. An owl hooted ominously. Somewhere, something growled.
At some point, things escalated.
There was a large serpent. Like, "if Pokémon designed a boss battle" large. It had green scales, glowing yellow eyes, and a tongue that flicked like it wanted to taste her insurance policy.
Shizuku, having long since crossed the line between terrified and completely unhinged, grinned.
"Oh, you wanna go, Noodlezilla?"
The serpent hissed and lunged.
She ran. Again.
But this time, she had a plan.
She led it between two large trees, then unleashed fire on the ground around it in a circle. The flames whooshed up like something out of a shonen anime finale.
Then, because it felt appropriate, she shouted, "FLAMING NOODLE CAGE!"
The serpent flailed in the fire for a few seconds before slithering off, smoking and screaming into the forest.
Shizuku collapsed again, panting, trembling, and also a little proud.
She held up her burned stick like a legendary sword.
"Behold, the chosen flame. May it light my path. And toast my mushrooms."
A brief silence followed.
She nodded to herself solemnly, like a monk who had achieved enlightenment through violence and poor life decisions.
The next morning—assuming it was morning—Shizuku pushed past a thorny bush and saw it.
A village.
Actual buildings. Smoke from chimneys. People.
She stared in disbelief.
"I did it. I survived the Tutorial Forest of Death."
Her stomach let out a noise that could only be described as demonic.
"Please," she whispered as she stumbled toward the wooden gate, "let them have food. And beds. And no cursed rodents named Chad."
As she approached the village entrance, covered in soot, twigs, and unbridled fury, a farmer dropped his hay bale and screamed.
But Shizuku didn't care.
Because behind those walls was civilization.
Hopefully. Maybe.
She raised her stick-sword high.
"And so begins… my villain arc."
To be continued...