A week had passed since that day.
A week since I woke up in this world.
At first, I thought the confusion would fade quickly but instead, it settled into something quieter, heavier. Like wearing clothes that almost fit, but not quite.
A lot of things here were the same as my previous world.
And yet… a lot weren't.
First, there was me.
I was Nobi Nobita.
Not the ten-year-old elementary schooler I remembered from the anime but a fifteen-year-old teenager. Taller than I expected. Still skinny, still weak-looking, but undeniably older.
I learned that part gradually. From the mirror, clothes, my parents casually mentioning school.
Then there was the date.
2014.
At first, I thought that part lined up neatly with my memories but it didn't take long to notice something strange. Digging through documents, calendars, and idle conversations revealed something even more unsettling.
My birthday was August 7, 2004.
The same date as Nobita's birthday from the 3D Doraemon movie.
Not 1960, not even close.
This world wasn't following the original timeline.
And neither was I.
As for how I ended up here…
That part came to me one night, slipping into my mind without warning.
I remembered sitting in front of a paper. Hours blurred together, drawings, lines, no sleep. Two full days without rest.
Then exhaustion, lying down.
Closing my eyes and never waking up.
That was when I realized something uncomfortable.
I didn't transmigrate into Nobita.
I replaced him.
Or maybe… I merged with him.
I still didn't know which was worse.
What scared me more was how clearly I remembered things now.
Ever since that day, my memory felt… sharp. Too sharp.
Manga I had read years ago? I could recall entire panels. Dialogue. Page layouts. Even tiny background details I never paid attention to back then.
I didn't know why.
I just knew it happened after our memories collided.
And then there was this world.
On the surface, it looked exactly like my previous life's Earth. Same technology. Same daily routines. Same feeling of modern life.
But once I paid attention…
Books were different, movies were unfamiliar. Actors had names I'd never heard before.
And manga?
That was the strangest part.
Nobita's room, my room was filled with manga volumes. I spent most of the week reading them, trying to understand the standard of storytelling in this world.
They weren't bad.
Just… okay.
Compared to the masterpieces I grew up with, they felt safe. Predictable. Like stories that never dared to push further.
Right now, I was holding one of them.
"Blazing Hero: Ignition."
A story about a boy who gained fire powers and became a hero.
Decent art, decent pacing and plot.
That was it.
I closed the book and let myself fall backward onto the floor, arms stretching above my head as a yawn escaped me.
"Haah…"
Doraemon was beside me, sitting comfortably while eating a dorayaki.
I stared at the ceiling for a moment before speaking.
"Hey, Doraemon."
He hummed through a mouthful of red bean paste.
"If I make a manga… would you help me?"
He froze.
Slowly, he turned his head toward me.
"…Eh?"
Then he squinted.
"Nobita, didn't you try that before? You worked on it for one hour, said it was too hard, and gave up."
I sat up, scratching my head awkwardly.
"Well… yeah. That did happen."
That wasn't even a lie. It just didn't feel like it belonged to me anymore.
"I just want to try again," I continued. "I still have three weeks before school starts. I need something to pass the time instead of using the computer all day."
Doraemon stared at me silently.
The dorayaki slowly lowered from his mouth.
For some reason, my heart beat a little faster.
I wasn't declaring anything big. I wasn't promising success.
But this was the first time since waking up here that I felt something stir.
Not ambition just… curiosity.
The room was quiet, filled only with the faint hum of the electric fan.
"Soooo... " I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "Will you help me?"
He blinked.
"…Help how?"
"Well… I kind of need to borrow some money."
Doraemon froze.
The wrapper slipped from his paw.
"…Money?"
"Yeah."
I turn my head, avoiding his eyes.
"My allowance is gone, I spent it all buying manga last month."
That part wasn't even a lie. The evidence was stacked neatly on the shelves behind me.
"The materials that I need," I continued. "Paper, pens, ink… they all cost money. I can't really make anything without them."
Doraemon crossed his arms, his expression immediately suspicious. He stared at me for a long moment.
His eyes searched my face, like he was weighing something invisible.
"…You've been acting strange lately," he muttered. "In a good way, I think."
I smiled weakly. "Thabks I guess"
He sighed deeply, reaching into his pocket.
"Just a little," he warned. "And I'm not lending you money for playing arcade games or snacks."
"That's fine."
He pulled out a small wallet and handed me a few bills.
"Only for drawing supplies," he said firmly. "If you waste it, I'm not helping again."
I accepted the money carefully.
"Thanks, Doraemon."
He squinted at me.
"…You're not even begging. That's surprising."
"Sorry," I said. "I'll try to be more annoying next time."
"Hmph."
Even so, Doraemon looked relieved.