Reincarnated as a ‘Useless’ Dark Flame User

Just like always, Kuroi was walking down the street on his way to his full-time job. The surrounding darkness was only illuminated by the alternating streetlights, their weak, flickering glow casting long, eerie shadows on the pavement. The empty street, silent except for the distant hum of the city, made the night feel even later than it was.

Twenty-four-year-old Kuroi Yami was a hardworking adult. Even at this late hour, he diligently walked toward his workplace, looking forward to completing his daily tasks. In his years of service, he had never missed a day, consistently winning the No Absences award each month, sweeping the competition.

But despite the praise and consistency, there was something hollow about it all. As Kuroi walked, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that every step was taking him further into a life that was as dark and empty as the streets around him.

When he finally arrived at his destination, he surveyed the building in front of him—a small residential house, no different from the other houses lined up beside it. The red roof looked darker in the night, with only the moonlight revealing its true color.

In front of the house, a small, neat garden lay between the veranda and the street. Bonsai trees, trimmed with care, stood alongside patches of ornamental grass, reflecting the homeowners' love for order and beauty. It was a place that gave him a comfortable feeling of familiarity, yet he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt while gazing at it.

In his right hand, he carried his work equipment: a plastic bag filled with instant ramen, potato chips, and energy drinks that he had bought from a nearby convenience store. These were the resources he needed for his daily grind of binging anime and playing games. Yes, Kuroi Yami, 24 years old, was a full-time shut-in NEET.

He took a deep breath and said, "Another day, another dollar," with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. The empty street around him seemed to echo his words, mocking him with its silence. As he prepared to step into his front yard, a loud scream shattered the quiet, stopping him in his tracks.

"Help! Somebody help!" a woman's voice cried out.

Kuroi froze, the plastic bag crinkling in his hand as his grip tightened. He looked around, his heart starting to pound, unsure of where the loud shrieks were coming from.

"Help! Please, somebody help!" the voice echoed again, more desperate this time.

Finally, he spotted the source of the noise. A few houses down the street, a bright light pierced the darkness, casting the neighborhood in an ominous glow. Panic tightened in his chest as he realized what it was—a raging fire, with thick black smoke billowing into the night sky.

Kuroi's heart began to race. His earlier steady breathing was now replaced by shallow gasps, the commotion pulling him away from the comfortable numbness he usually wrapped himself in.

He hesitated. He just wanted to go inside the comfort of his room, block out the noise with his headphones, and watch anime and play games until the sun rose—just as usual. He wasn’t a hero; he didn’t want to be.

"Help! Somebody! Anybody!" The voice rang out again, each word pressing down on him, filling his heart with a heavy mix of guilt and concern.

"Help! Please! My daughter is still inside!"

Kuroi’s stomach twisted. His feet moved, but not toward the fire—instead, he stepped back, retreating toward his front door. “It’s none of my business,” he muttered, his voice trembling as if trying to convince himself.

But his legs betrayed him. They moved on their own, slowly at first, and then faster, until he was sprinting down the street. The guilt was now like a physical weight, dragging him toward the blaze, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he nearly collided with a lamppost or two along the way.

When he finally reached the source of the commotion, he saw a woman sitting on the ground, her legs having given out from the panic. The fire roared behind her, a monstrous beast that seemed to growl in hunger, eager to consume everything in its path.

At the sight of Kuroi, the woman suddenly stood up and ran to him, gripping his arms as if afraid he would vanish. Her fingers dug into his skin, desperate and trembling.

"Help! Please! My daughter is still inside!" the woman pleaded, her face contorted with fear, streaked with tears that glistened in the firelight.

Kuroi felt even more guilt. The logical part of his brain screamed at him to turn around, to leave, but another part—deeper and more primal—refused to let him move.

“Have you called the fire department?” he asked, his voice shaking.

"Yes, but they're taking too long! My daughter might not make it!" the woman replied frantically, her eyes wild with terror.

"We can't do anything on our own—it might just make things worse. We have to wait for the firemen and let them handle it," Kuroi said, trying to sound calm, though his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst.

"Please, you've got to do something!" the woman cried, her voice breaking as she clutched at him.

"What do you want me to do? What can we even do in this situation?" he snapped, more out of fear than anger.

"I—I don't know, I don't know..." the woman stammered, falling back to the ground as the hopelessness of the situation sank in.

Then, all of a sudden, a small voice called out from the burning house. "Mommy! Mommy!" It was faint, but loud enough to cut through the crackling of the flames and reach their ears.

The woman’s eyes widened, and before Kuroi could react, she was sprinting toward the fire. "Yuki! Yuki! I'm coming to save you!"

Kuroi lunged forward, catching her arm just in time, preventing her from rushing into the inferno.

"What are you doing?!" he shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the roaring flames.

"Let go of me!" she screamed back, thrashing in his grip.

"Are you crazy?! You'll both die if you go in there! Just wait for the fire department to arrive—they'll be here soon!" Kuroi yelled, tightening his hold on her.

"No, let go! My daughter needs my help!" she wailed, her voice raw with desperation.

Kuroi looked at the fire, then back at the crying woman. His heart pounded in his chest, his thoughts spinning in a chaotic whirl. Every instinct told him to let go, to run away, but something deep inside him—something he hadn’t felt in a long time—stirred.

Then he heard the child’s voice again, screaming at the top of her lungs, her cries slicing through the night like a knife. "Mommy! Please help!" He felt the woman struggling, her desperation almost tangible.

He couldn't take it anymore. It was enough to steel his resolve.

"Stay here," he said to the woman, his voice firm despite the fear gnawing at him. "I'll go get her."

With a deep breath, he ran toward the fire, every part of his mind screaming at him to stop, to turn back, but his body moved forward, driven by something stronger than fear.

"It's simple—just run in, find the child, grab her, and run outside," he thought, trying to rationalize his choice, but even he knew it wasn’t that simple.

And with that, Kuroi plunged into the burning house, the heat and smoke swallowing him whole.