I FOUND A DOOR TO TENSURA AND BECAME BROKEN IN THE REAL WORLD TOO-Chapter 11: A New Beginning

As I strolled through the city streets, I still couldn't get used to the sensation of people's eyes lingering on me. It was so different from before—no more sneers of contempt, no mocking laughter, no degrading whispers. Instead, the glances I received were curious, admiring even. I could feel the subtle stares from passersby, some filled with genuine interest, others with fleeting admiration.

It was bizarre. Just a few months ago, walking through a crowd meant bracing myself for ridicule or even a sudden shove. But now... people actually moved aside for me. Some even offered me small, polite smiles. My mind knew this was reality, yet part of me still couldn't accept it.

Clutching the bag of daily necessities I had just bought, I let out a small sigh. Clothes. That was next on my list. As much as I wanted to avoid it, I couldn't keep wearing the same outfit every day. Even though the clothes from the other world were durable and comfortable, wearing them constantly was starting to make me feel self-conscious. Not to mention, it would probably raise some eyebrows if people thought I didn't own a change of clothes.

I glanced down at my wallet. I had withdrawn 50,000 yen from my [Item Box] earlier—more than enough for what I needed. Still, my feet felt heavy as I turned toward the shopping district. Going into town was never easy for me. Even with my new appearance, the habit of avoiding crowds was hard to break.

The shopping district was lively, bustling with people going in and out of stores. A place I used to avoid. Back then, I would have kept my head down, tried to slip through the crowd unnoticed, praying that I wouldn't run into anyone who would torment me.

But today was different.

I walked with my head held high—not out of arrogance, but because... I could. There was no longer a reason to shrink away.

After a few minutes of wandering, I spotted a large clothing store. Figuring it would have everything I needed, I took a deep breath and walked inside.

The scent of new fabric and faint cologne filled the air. Rows of neatly arranged clothes stretched out before me—casual wear, formal outfits, and everything in between. As I hesitated at the entrance, unsure where to start, a cheerful voice called out.

"Welcome! Let me know if you need any help!"

I turned to see a young woman walking toward me with a bright, professional smile. But the moment she properly took in my appearance, her eyes widened slightly.

"Wait... are you a model by any chance?" she asked, blinking in surprise.

"Eh?" I stared at her, caught off guard. "N-no, I'm just... a regular customer," I stammered.

Her expression remained stunned for a moment, but then she gave me a warm, almost bashful smile. "Oh! Sorry, it's just... you look like you just stepped out of a magazine or something. You'd make a great model."

A model? Me? I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. If only she had seen me a few months ago. Still, hearing it made my face flush slightly. I wasn't used to compliments like that.

She eagerly guided me through the store, occasionally sneaking glances at me when she thought I wasn't looking. She enthusiastically pointed out various outfits—a sleek black jacket, stylish shirts, and fitted jeans.

"You know," she said, holding up the black leather jacket, "this would look absolutely perfect on you."

I hesitated. The old me would have never dared to wear something like that—it was too bold, too flashy. But now... why not? With a small sigh, I nodded. "I'll try it on."

Inside the fitting room, I slipped into the jacket and stared at my reflection. I froze.

The mirror revealed a person I still barely recognized. The sleek black leather hugged my frame perfectly, highlighting the toned physique I had gained from my otherworldly training. Paired with a fitted white t-shirt and black jeans, I... actually looked cool. Like someone you'd see on a fashion poster.

I ran a hand through my hair, which now shimmered with a healthy, silky sheen. My skin was clear and flawless, my jawline sharp. The person staring back at me wasn't the fragile, overweight, acne-covered boy I once was—it was someone entirely different. And yet... it was still me.

When I stepped out of the fitting room, the store clerk's eyes widened, and she actually gasped.

"Wow... you look amazing!" she blurted out, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "I knew that jacket would suit you perfectly, but... wow."

Feeling my face flush slightly, I looked away awkwardly, unused to such open praise. I cleared my throat and checked the price tag. It was expensive, but it didn't matter. I could afford it—I could afford all of this now.

I ended up picking out several more outfits—stylish shirts, fitted pants, and even some semi-formal attire. By the time I left the store, my arms were loaded with bags. It was surreal—I had just gone on a shopping spree. Me. The same person who once wore hand-me-downs and whatever I could scrape together.

Once I returned home, I laid out the new clothes on my bed. It didn't feel real. The expensive, stylish outfits looked so out of place in my simple room. For a while, I just sat on the edge of the bed, staring at them.

Then, I turned toward the mirror.

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I grabbed one of the casual outfits—a dark-blue button-up shirt and black jeans. After slipping into them, I stood in front of the mirror again.

"...Is this really me?"

I slowly ran my hand down the fabric of the shirt. It fit perfectly—slim, stylish, and comfortable. I studied my reflection for a long moment. My sharp features, smooth skin, and clear eyes stared back at me.

"...I really did change, didn't I?"

I lightly traced my fingers along my jawline. The once chubby and rounded face was now refined and sharp. My eyes, once dull and lifeless, now looked clear and confident. I didn't have to look away from my reflection anymore.

For the first time in years, I didn't feel ashamed of the person in the mirror.

Feeling unexpectedly bold, I decided to take a short stroll around the neighborhood. For once, I wanted to be seen.

As I walked, I noticed the way people glanced at me. Women cast admiring looks, some smiling politely. Men gave me brief, measuring glances. I could feel their eyes on me, but for once, it didn't make me uncomfortable.

Instead of shrinking away, I met their glances with my own. I no longer had to lower my eyes or avoid being seen.

For the first time in a long while, I felt free.

My footsteps felt lighter, my chest less heavy. The weight of my former self—the self that constantly endured ridicule and pain—was gone. I was no longer the same frail, timid boy. I was stronger, more confident, and undeniably different.

"Maybe... I can finally stop walking with my head down."

As I walked beneath the evening sky, I smiled softly to myself. This was just the beginning—my new life had finally started.