One second he was leisurely watching Naruto on his laptop, and the next he was sandwiched between two warm bodies sans laptop. This was not something Kai had been expecting when he blinks. However, it didn't take his system long to process that there are strangers in his safe haven, in his bed, which resulted in him bolting, his misanthropic tendencies rearing its ugly head as he flees the room.

With his heart pounding in his ears and his lungs stuck in his throat, Kai leans his clammy forehead heavily against the wooden door, his trembling fingers working their hardest to lock it. He lost track of how long he just stood there panicking, his breathing harsh and his body drenched in a layer of cold sweat, but when he snaps out of it, he notices that he wasn't wearing his usual coffee-stained baggy tracksuit. They had been replaced by a... yukata? What?

A sense of unease fills him as he moves his sight towards his (wrong, wrong, wrong) hands, both scarred and heavily calloused; as if they were used to hard work. His mouth went dry when veins bulged easily the second he clenches these foreign appendages, experimentally turning them this and that way. Despite the excessive overlapping of scars, they were oddly beautiful, with slender digits and trimmed nails, resulting in them looking like fine pieces of jade. If not for the blemishes, he would have thought that these hands belonged to a hand model. When accessorized, eyes would undoubtedly be attracted to them.

Kai knew that he was disassociating pretty badly because of how absurd his 'escape from reality mechanism' was acting. But how could he not, when all he could think about was how fantasy-like his current situation seems to be? It somehow made him feel like he was a character in those stupidly addictive transmigration web novels. After all, how could an affluent shut-in such as himself develop such manly scars and callouses overnight?

Ripping his sight away from those hands, he quickly scans his surroundings. Maybe he could find a mirror to check if he was still himself or he had really... transmigrated into a body not his own.

The room he had rushed into, it seems, was a bathroom. It had the wooden style of those really old, traditional Japanese bathrooms, with a wide wooden bath dominating half the room, a wooden cabinet, and something that looked like a wooden bedpan - chamber pot? - near his feet. Kai couldn't help but blanch. There was no way a pampered young master like him could survive without indoor plumbing.

Despite being a hikikomori, Kai has a habit of staying sparkly clean. His house wasn't filled with trash since good hygiene meant a better quality of life, and a better quality of life meant a lesser chance of falling ill, which results in No! Doctor! Visits!

With his head cradled in his arms, Kai silently wept. If he had truly transmigrated, why couldn't he have gone to another modern alternate universe, or the future, or sometime after indoor plumbing was invented?!

... Wait a darny darn second.

Suddenly, dread filled his entire being as his thoughts broadened.

If there was no indoor plumbing... Could there possibly be no internet as well?

Kai suddenly feels faint and had to sit down.

Change his habits from urinating and defecating into a toilet bowl to a chamber pot? It might take a while, but he would get used to it sooner or later. However... To ask him to adapt to the lack of the internet? To the lack of computer technology? To the lack of anime? To the lack of online delivery?! Simply impossible!

Kai hasn't taken a step out of this house since he graduated middle school. Seeing that he is now a middle-aged man living off of his inheritance, it doesn't take a genius to put together that he has spent half of his life indoors. Food, clothes, toys, everything was bought online and delivered to his doorstep. Even then, there would always be one special instruction to the courier to leave his deliveries at the door and gtfo from his driveway so that he wouldn't have to interact face-to-face.

As if his body could not endure even the slightest thoughts of going outdoors, Kai's brain completely shut down and couldn't reboot.

... But that was the least of his problems.

As soon as his soul started to drift out from his lips, he felt a sharp and sudden pain radiate from his head.

His lips parted, but he couldn't even scream, his jaws locked achingly. All he could do was tug at his hair fiercely - anything to alleviate the pain. Memories not his own soon started to flood in, bulldozing into his mind with the recklessness and ferocity of a rabid dog. Slowly, he starts to understand that this body originally belongs to a man name Uchiha Tajima.

(He sees and experiences being born. Being named. Being wiped and showered. Learning how to talk. How to crawl. How to walk. How to run. How to hold a kunai. How to kill. How to follow all of his father's orders. To be married young. To father children when he was still a child himself. To be a shinobi. To understand what it meant to be an heir of the Uchiha clan. To watch impassively as the bonds between siblings shatter due to infighting. To die in the hands of an unknown poisoner at the age of twenty.)

When he came to, Kai was already on the ground, dazed, shivering, and feeling out of sorts; as if he had just had an out of body experience mixed with lucid dreaming. And much to his horror, he started to feel irregular bursts of pain and pleasure that Tajima had experienced throughout his life, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.

In the end, he shakily reaches for the chamber pot and regurgitates dinner. Tajima's dinner.

To experience the life and death of Uchiha Tajima as if he was in a VR simulation, in first POV , could be summed in one word; wretched.