Isekais Don't Exist, You're Just Trapped in a Social Experiment

5. What Are The Odds?

"I'm sorry, but this is the seventh time you've been late by an hour this year, and the manager already told me to send you home once you arrived. There's really nothing else I can do about it. I've vouched for you already several times, they won't take my excuses anymore."

It feels like the world is crashing around you. If you don't get away from the register where your co-worker, Emily, is delivering you the final blow on an already miserable day, you'll burst into tears in the middle of the store.

You thought that even if you had gotten evicted without reason from out of nowhere, you at least still had your job to keep you afloat. You could try to find another place, that much you assumed would be the case.

However, if you're losing your job too, how are you supposed to get enough money to rent a new room? Eating is low maintenance, you don't eat a lot anymore as is, but...you don't have enough money to get a room. Once you get your last paycheck, it still won't be enough to pay for the usual room prices these days.

Earlier you had found a park and a public bathroom you could change your clothes in, swapping your dress for some jeans and a simple black long sleeve. Although you... mostly cleaned yourself off, you're still on the street and you had no idea what to do..

Even if you had told the truth to your mother and asked for help, the chances she could do anything was so slim regardless whether she would want to or not. Of course, you knew she would try against everything to help her only daughter. It was in her nature to try and help you, even at her own expense. But dragging her down with you isn't something you wanted, so you decided it's better to keep quiet. Besides, you initially stopped calling her so you could vanish comfortably. If you never called her again...then when you finally finish the job, she won't think something is wrong. She'll just think you pulled away to live your life.

It'll hurt her less to think you're living life somewhere else than it would for her to know you killed yourself.

Somehow, the compulsive suicide urge has only grown in frequency. You can't get the thoughts and ideas out of your head, and the intrusive attempts to plan out your suicide is starting to weigh heavy on you like a maelstrom. Not even the image of the Avidya Forest, fresh in your mind from the recent visit the night before, can ebb away the temptation.

You know what's exacerbated the suicidal thoughts. It was probably the struggle of trying to wash off using the push button sink after you realized you were going to be late for work. Maybe it was also the shame of washing around your clothes without completely disrobing, just in case someone walked into the bathroom- as if trying to bathe in there wasn't shameful enough. None of it was made better when you realized you didn't have a towel to dry your body off with, prompting you to use your bathrobe as a substitute.

As if groaning from the memory of your miserable morning since dawn, your stomach growls right on cue. Almost on impulse, you fish out one of the five chocolates in your bag, the only remaining chocolates after you threw back nearly half of the bag earlier as a pseudo-breakfast.

Chocolates, as it would seem, aren't very filling.

Emily examines your emotionally drained features and then turns away to her register, grabbing a sticky-note pad and scribbling a number down on it that she hands to you.

"Here. It's not the classiest option, but it's all I can think to offer if you need lots of money fast. It shouldn't take long to save up, but...you'll need to think hard about whether you're interested, even if the other option is homelessness," she says, making you peer down at the sticky note she's handed you. You're still reeling, but you manage to set aside your shock so you can read the hastily scribbled numbers.