A world without manga

Chapter 1: A World Without Manga

Ryuuji's eyes fluttered open, greeted by the morning sun streaming through his window. His room, a small, modest space filled with the scent of freshly washed clothes and the faint hum of a city waking up, felt all too familiar. It was the kind of room he'd spent countless hours in, reading manga, playing video games, and daydreaming about worlds filled with heroes, villains, and impossible adventures.

Except… something felt off.

He rubbed his eyes, sitting up in bed. His hands were soft, his fingers nimble, not like they had been before—rougher, calloused from years of work. But that wasn't the strangest part. As his senses adjusted, he looked around, and the reality of his surroundings hit him.

This was his childhood room.

He stood up and walked over to the mirror on the wall, catching a glimpse of his reflection. His own face stared back, youthful and full of energy. No. This can't be right. He was supposed to be in his twenties—living his life in a small apartment, spending his free time lost in manga and anime. But this was a kid's room, with a stack of picture books, action figures, and a bed covered in cartoon sheets. Wait… He thought. This is my old room.

Suddenly, a sharp pain lanced through his head. It wasn't physical, but a flood of memories—memories of his old life—poured into his mind. The images, the events, the people, and most importantly, the world he had once known.

It all came rushing back.

He was no longer the Ryuuji he once was. He wasn't even in the world he had once lived in. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks: he had been reincarnated. He wasn't in his old world anymore, but in a parallel version of it, one that was eerily similar to the one he remembered.

But there was a significant difference.

This world… didn't have manga.

The more his mind processed the information, the more he felt a pit growing in his stomach. Ryuuji stumbled backward, his head spinning. The memories of his former life—his love for stories, for manga like Naruto, Dragon Ball Z, and Attack on Titan—they were now a long-lost dream in this parallel world. This world had no such treasures.

No one here knew of the great stories that had shaped his youth. No one talked about the legendary battles of ninjas, the rise of heroes, or the power struggles between colossal titans. There was no Sasuke or Goku, no Luffy or Eren, no iconic moments to fill his heart with nostalgia.

How is that even possible? Ryuuji thought, his hands trembling.

He turned back to the room, looking at the toys on the shelf, the picture books stacked neatly beside his bed. In this world, children seemed to enjoy the same things they did in his past life, but they didn't have the same stories. No epic sagas, no intergalactic adventures, no shounen rivalries. The very fabric of what made his world vibrant and full of life was absent here.

It was like he had been dropped into a world where the essence of manga had never been born.

He rubbed his temples, trying to calm himself. This was a lot to process. It was as if everything he had known, everything he had loved, was now a lost treasure—and he was the only one who remembered it.

Ryuuji stumbled toward the window, pulling back the curtain to look outside. The world beyond was the same as his childhood world: bustling streets, children playing, parents chatting, and the sun shining brightly over a busy city. It looked just like his old life, but there was something inherently empty about it. It felt like a world where imagination never took flight, where no one had ever dreamt up the incredible stories that had shaped entire generations.

The realization began to settle in. This world didn't have manga, anime, or the kind of stories he had always cherished.

It was as if he had stepped into a world that never had those things, and never would. A world where none of the great manga he'd grown up with ever existed. Where no one had fought for the fate of the ninja world or clashed with the titans on the walls of humanity's last bastion.

"Why… why did this happen?" Ryuuji whispered, sitting back on the bed. What was the point of all of this? He had loved those worlds, those adventures. They were his escape, his passion. He didn't want to live in a place where such things didn't exist.

The memories of his old life, of reading about powerful characters who overcame impossible odds, of crying over the heartbreaks of the heroes he grew up with, flooded his mind again. The stories of Luffy and his quest for the One Piece, the heart-wrenching battles in Naruto, the jaw-dropping action of Dragon Ball Z, and the gripping intensity of Attack on Titan—these were the stories that had shaped his heart and soul.

But now they were gone. No one here knew about them. No one here had experienced the magic of a good manga or the thrill of watching a story unfold in animated form.

Ryuuji sat on the edge of his bed, staring out of the window as the weight of the situation sank in. How could he even survive in a world like this, a world devoid of the things he loved most? Would he be forced to live out his life in this dull, uninspired place?

For the first time in his new life, Ryuuji felt a deep, aching loneliness. In a world so similar to his old one, yet so completely different, he felt like an outsider. He was alone with his memories, with the stories of his past, and there was no one here who would ever understand the worlds that had once made his heart race with excitement.

"What now?" he whispered to himself.

It was then that something flickered inside him. Despite the overwhelming emptiness, a flicker of resolve ignited. He may have been in a world where his favorite stories didn't exist, but maybe… just maybe, he could create them.

The thought was dangerous. It was bold. But Ryuuji knew something in that moment—he didn't want to give up on the magic of stories. He didn't want to let this world be so devoid of the creativity and passion he had always known.

If this world didn't have manga, then maybe it was up to him to bring it back.

With that thought, Ryuuji stood up from the bed and walked over to the small desk in the corner of his room. He grabbed a notebook and a pen, ready to take the first step into his new reality.

This world may not have had the legendary stories he loved, but he would create his own. If he had to, he would build an empire of manga from the ground up, and make sure that no one else would ever have to live in a world without the wonders of stories.

And maybe, just maybe, he would change everything. One manga at a time.