CHAPTER 1: The Grand Entrance
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They say a baby brings laughter and luck to a household. That the birth of a child fills a home with joy, warmth, hope—maybe even rainbows, unicorns, and world peace, if you believe hard enough.
Well, not in my case.
If life were a fairytale, then perhaps I'd have arrived to a fanfare of blessings. But in my reality? Luck must've gotten drunk and skipped my stop entirely.
My family's life was smooth sailing before I came along. Dad was the CEO of a major company—the kind who drank imported coffee while yelling things like "liquidate the assets" over Bluetooth. Mom was the head principal of a prestigious university, feared by students and revered by faculty. Together, they were the ultimate power couple. The dream team.
Then I happened.
That fateful spring morning looked like it was borrowed from a postcard. Blue skies, cherry blossoms dancing in the wind, birds chirping like background singers in a Disney musical. A perfect day.
Until it wasn't.
Until I arrived.
The King of Misfortune.
That's me. And no, I'm not being dramatic. I have receipts.
I remember it. Not in detail, obviously—I was a newborn—but somehow the feeling of that day is etched in my soul. The confusion. The brightness. The cold slap of reality… and the voice that cut through the chaos:
"Congratulations! It's a healthy baby bo—"
Silence.
The doctor—THE doctor. The celebrity OB-GYN who was practically a god in a white coat—stood frozen. Eyes wide. Face pale. One moment he was grinning down at me like a proud grandfather, the next… he clutched his chest, gasped, and stumbled backward like he'd just seen the Grim Reaper in my baby blues.
A tray of instruments crashed to the floor.
Then he did.
Gone. Instant heart attack.
Just like that, the legend fell.
A nurse screamed. Another passed out. Machines wailed. Panic rippled through the ward like someone had yelled "fire" in a theater. And me? I hadn't even blinked yet.
My first touch caused a cardiac arrest.
A handshake from hell, if you will.
They passed me to a nurse—kind eyes, gentle voice. I don't know her name, so let's just call her Nurse Nice. She cradled me like a porcelain doll, humming softly.
And then she sneezed.
Once. Twice. Then a violent, uncontrollable third.
Turns out, she'd suddenly developed a strange, highly contagious flu. Within hours, thanks to handoffs and clipboard sharing, the entire maternity ward became a petri dish. Staff were dropping like flies—coughing, sneezing, being rushed to quarantine.
Meanwhile, I remained untouched. Crying, but healthy.
The world was falling apart around me, but in my mother's arms, everything stilled.
She held me close—sweaty, exhausted, yet radiant—and looked at me like I was the center of the universe. No alarms. No screaming. No plague.
Just love.
In that heartbeat, I felt something even a cursed baby like me didn't think he deserved.
Of course, the universe wasn't finished with my debut performance.
While all this was happening, Dad was racing to the hospital with my big sister in tow. He had just picked her up from school, eager to introduce her to the newest family member. It had started to rain—a torrential, cinematic kind of rain that seemed too dramatic to be real.
The parking lot was slick, stairs unforgiving.
Dad, carrying an umbrella and way too much excitement, dashed forward.
Then slipped.
And not just a little stumble. A full-body, legs-in-the-air, cartoon-level wipeout. He tumbled down the steps like a ragdoll tossed by fate itself.
The result?
Spinal damage.
Paralysis from the waist down.
All because of the moment I was born.
Meanwhile, my sister—bless her—was left to walk home alone in the downpour. The school wasn't far. A ten-minute stroll, tops. But fate, as always, had other plans.
As she passed a line of bushes, a stray cat burst out like a banshee. She shrieked, stumbled backward, tripped on a stick, and landed face-first in a glorious puddle of thick, muddy water.
And who happened to witness it?
Riku Yamazaki. Her long-time crush. The golden boy of her class. He laughed. Not cruelly, but genuinely, caught off-guard by the sight.
He offered his hand. She ran like the wind.
Her pride? Gone. Her heart? Shattered. Her dreams of love? Officially canceled.
Later, she'd find out that the exact moment she landed in the mud was the precise second I entered the world.
"IT'S YOUR FAULT!" she screamed at me, her finger jabbing toward my newborn nose. "I SWEAR I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!"
And so began my reign.
One day. One baby. Three disasters.
The skies wept.
The hospital shut down.
The parking lot claimed a casualty.
And a young girl's heart was broken.
The King of Misfortune had arrived.
Long may he reign.