White light

“Huh!?” I squint my eyes at the white light. A soft ringing fills my ears, the only sound in the room. So bright… It was just light entering my eyes when I woke up, but I’m not used to it. “Huh? Wha…?” When my eyes focus, I’m surprised. I’m lying on an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room.

‘…Where am I?’ I look around. It’s a shady room.

There are many beds; a kid is in each bed, and everyone seems to be hurt. But nothing feels ill in this room. After all, everyone who’s hurt is someone who was lucky enough to be saved, right?

“Ahhhhhh..” My muscles are tense.

The world felt vague and thin.

I try to relax and let my eyes wander. The deep blue sky feels like an escape, like a vast, endless ocean stretching above me. When had I first seen it? The distant white clouds… when did I first notice you…? … I’m not sure…

I felt like a baby again.

Smell, taste, touch, vision, hearing. Each sense felt new; the world felt overwhelming. Although there was the sound of crying in the air, it was not mine. The cries didn’t last long. The children learned quickly that there was no point in it. No one came to stifle them.

Eventually, the doctor approached me, an older man with receding grey hair. I was sitting up the best I could.

“You’re awake then. Tell me, boy, what is your name?” He had a forced calm voice.

Name…? What is… name…? It was…S… “My…..name?”

…What was it again? Something with an s… an s… s…s…sai… no… that’s not it…

Sa, shi, su, se, so… I tried to combine the characters but it wasn’t quite coming to me.

Apparently, I was silent long enough that the doctor was going to leave. “It’s fine if you can’t find it right now; you’ve been through a traumatic event. It can take time for your mind to catch up.”

‘No… don’t go…’ I wanted to say that, but I had no name to give him. ‘I have to say something! I can’t just be nameless!’ So I just said what I could and forced my mouth to speak.

“My name is… S-Shirou!” I yelled. I had to relearn the volume of my voice. It’s not that I remembered my name. It’s more than my mouth remembered how to say it.

“And your family name?” The doctor stopped and wrote on a clipboard.

A sharp, searing pain stabbed through my skull the moment I tried to think about it, like a needle drilling into my brain, forcing me to let go before the thought could fully form. A red world. With black muck flowing into me. Piles of corpses reaching out for my hand. Like being stabbed in the brain by a thin sword.

It all came to me… then disappeared. It was a short stabbing pain but painful enough that my brain decided to remove as much of it as it could before it ate me up. So I just forgot about it. “…Ah…” I… I can’t remember… That is right. I had no idea about that at all. I didn’t want to think about that.

I’m Shirou. If I’m just that, then the loss isn’t so bad that it kills me.

He smiled and crossed his arms. “I see… That’s alright for now, Shirou-kun. Get some rest. Perhaps you will remember with that.” Sounds good to me. I felt exhausted. “Oh, and Shirou-kun, please try to be a little quieter in the future. Others are trying to sleep.”

It was a light admonishment. He held no hatred for me. He was a weak man, pathetic whelp… huh…?

What am I thinking?

“Sorry.” Now, my voice was as quiet as a mouse. I apologized for everything I did.

After that, I spent the rest of the day rediscovering my own voice. I was someone new, after all. The hours passed, and nothing much changed. Night and day and night again. Nobody came to visit but the cold and sad looks of the nurses and doctors.

It took me some time to really grasp what had happened.

Apparently, there had been a terrible fire. That’s what they said, and it sounded about right in my mind. I could faintly connect it to memory, but I didn’t feel good when I did. The sharp pain didn’t come anymore, but it did make me nauseous. As much as you try to forget something, all it takes is one reminder to infect you again. For me, that was the burns across everyone’s bodies.

I must be burned too, hiding under all these bandages. I could feel it underneath the bandages. My body felt weird like it wasn’t entirely connected to me. It didn’t hurt, but it felt like my body was covered in something thick and wet. It wasn’t sweating. I could just tell. I could see it in my mind’s eye, ‘It must be the burns. I must be completely burned.’ I imagine that I must be. The more I believed it, the more I could feel the itchiness on my seared skin.

It was strangely peaceful. But… the ones who stopped hurting were the ones who died. So… did that mean I had died too? Hmm… I guess I did… ‘Without a family, you have nothing.’ Someone said that once. Someone who made my head hurt to remember.

Then why am I still here? I didn’t really understand. All I knew was that I was alone. The nurses were kind. They looked after us. We were the survivors, the ones who were saved, so they were always running in and out. They didn’t stay, though. There were people worse than even us. I watched this lifelessly from my bed.

‘Everyone has died. Everything was you.’

From the moment I woke up, I could hear that. I didn’t have anything inside me, so I just watched the others. Their sickening lives, how they cling to their hope… I could only watch. My body may have been watching all that, but I was dead. I was just a ghost, somehow clinging on even after dying once.

‘Return to us. Return to us. Return to us.’

The voices kept me company, but eventually, I even became accustomed to them. I stopped hearing their cries in the wind. The week passed slowly, as the room didn’t change much

Then, suddenly, everything started happening so fast, pulling me into reality whether I was ready or not.

It was after the doctor took off all my bandages that I was able to see the state of my body. “Huh?” It wasn’t burned at all. Just a single small scar on my thigh that doesn’t even look like a burn. The doctor thought it was miraculous considering where I was found. “…I should be burned in…” I should have been burned to the point that I was just a shadow etched into the ground. So why…?

“Oh… I see.”

I was burned. You just can’t see them. It was phantom pain, the yearning for my body to reflect something lost. There are two truths: The saved body and the dead soul. Either could end up being true.

It’s… It was easier to drift away, to become a nameless victim… and reunite with everyone else. But…

My mind raced to hear their screams. I was afraid.

‘Please, Save me! Why!? No! Don’t leave, just help me up! Ahhh! It burns! No…!’ They wanted me to save them, but that would mean dying too. They wanted me to live so that they could at least glimpse something of the future. …There were so many wishes then. They continued to taunt me, even as I tried to forget. And so I accepted it. Not for me, but so that the chain of sacrifices wouldn’t mean nothing.

It took a few seconds, but when I accepted that, the pain left entirely. The smoldering burn became a scar in my heart, but that was just another sign of survival.

I was born again and felt better. Everything was fine. I could eat unassisted too; the food was nothing to praise, not like my…. ‘Who?’ Who was I thinking of? A woman? That… made food… Mom? ‘What was her name again?’ I recognized their existence, but it was a hollow memory.

The whole family was faceless and stared at me from past the edge of the horizon. They had no face, voice, or even name. It was like trying to remember the details of a stranger’s family. All that remained were a small number of random facts: the Dad was always reading, the Mom loved to cook, and the sister had a dopey smile. Even if they still existed in this world, I would not be able to really call them family anymore. I knew nothing of them. I could not live under that name ever again.

All of that was taken away and cleansed in the great fire.

Then… it hit me. ‘I really am alone.’ A feeling of uncertainty formed in my chest for the first time. I may be alive, but what is there to do? Where would I go now? The orphanage? I was a little anxious.

But right as I began to worry about the future, that man entered the room.

Wrinkled coat and uncombed hair. A bit younger than the doctor, he seems kind of like a big brother. He was… Yes, someone I knew. He was the man who gave me a second chance. He walked right up to my bed. “Hello. You must be Shirou-Kun.” A smile that seems to melt into the white sunlight. A very kind voice, but a little suspicious too. “I’ll ask you directly. Which would you prefer? To go to an orphanage or to be adopted by this man you’ve never seen before?” He said softly. That man was saying he could adopt me.

“You are related to me?” He would just do that…? I was uneasy.

“No, I’m just a stranger, but I wish to take care of you.” He answered straight. That didn’t feel like a lie. He looked unreliable, like someone with no future. But that didn’t really matter to me. I knew nothing of him nor the orphanage.

So….I guess I’ll go with him then.

“Ok, I’ll come with you.” The bad feelings were there, but something in me was already looking at him with a sense of yearning.

“I see, that’s good. Get ready quickly, then. You should get used to your new place as fast as you can.” The guy quickly started packing my stuff. His packing was pretty bad, even for a kid like me. All I had with me was the black-tinged clothes I came in with. A sweater and that sort of stuff, nothing indicated anything about who I was.

Then, after making a big mess… ‘Oh! I forgot something important,’ he suddenly said. I have to tell you one thing before you come with me. Is that okay?” He turns to me lightheartedly and says, “Yeah, to start off with, I’m a sorcerer.” He says in a serious, exaggerated tone.

He had a genuine smile on his face. I completely believed him. Someone who could smile like that could probably do anything.

“Wow, you’re awesome,” I said so with bright eyes. Maybe it was weird, but I trusted all he said.

They let us go without much complaint, and before I knew it, I was outside, moving to a new home.

All the firemen and army men running around were proof enough that the fire really did happen. I had been here before, I realized… but the view was different to what my mind expected it to be.

Even though it was only midday, the winter sun was already setting, washing the world in shades of crimson. The sky was red again. The fire was gone, but its memory lingered, refusing to fade. I could smell it in the air, an ashy aroma.

Finally, that man appeared, laughing, he said, “Haha, I’m glad you agreed to my proposal; I filled out all the paperwork beforehand.” He rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, but his face was still radiant In my eyes.

What would he have done if I had said no to him? …I felt that I wouldn’t have said no. There exists no world that I denied this man. He was very unreliable, but so was everything else. Despite just meeting him, I have a feeling that he is irresponsible like this a lot. Being so close, I could now smell the cigarette smoke and a faint trace of…ash?

It wasn’t a particularly good smell, but it didn’t bother me much. Guiding me along, we got on the bus. We could be going anywhere; I wouldn’t have noticed.

I just stared at his smile. What kind of man could smile like that?

When we got off the bus, we were on the other side of town. We had crossed the bridge; houses were old here, and it was quiet. All I could remember about this area was that it had more families, it was also closer to the big school. I followed the man silently. He seemed giddy, like a kid on the playground about to show off his new toy. Just what is he going to show me?

When we reached a gate to a walled area, he stopped. It was a large area enclosed by a wall. It must be some kind of garden or park, maybe a playground?

Why are we here?

“Shirou-Kun, this is where you will be living from now on.” He answered as if to hear my thoughts.

“Huh?” I’m living in the park? Are we homeless? I should have known that it would be something like this… ‘Maybe I made a mistake here.’ There was that thought, but…I also think that I’ll follow him no matter what his circumstances are. Perhaps sensing my hesitation, he went and unlocked the gate, bringing me past the walls. What was there was not a park or garden but a house—a complex with multiple buildings.

“Huh!?” The place was huge. At my small height, it was like a castle. I mean…it kind of almost was.

“Whose house is this?” Is it someone rich?

“This is… my house. That makes it yours’ too.”

“Wow…” It was big—no, even bigger than the playground I used to play on…

Playground…? …My heart buzzes at the thought of it. …The playground was covered in red, and the metal of the swing was bent in a way that looked like a spear trying to reach me…

How can such a pure wish turn so ugly?

“Hgnmm.” I nearly throw up, but I keep it in. He doesn’t seem to notice. He was busy looking into opening his own door. I hold my knees up. I do have one question. “Uhh, so what is your name?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, didn’t I? My name is Emiya Kiritsugu.” He said it as if it were an afterthought.

“I see. Does that make me… Emiya Shirou then?”

He stopped at the door, and the world seemed to freeze for a little while there. “…Yeah, I guess it does.” I couldn’t see his face, but I could imagine that he was smiling. Even from behind, it seemed like he was happy.

It is strange that he would be so quick to give me his name, but I guess I’m weird too to accept it so easily. He never asked about my family before this, not that I could answer anyway. “Do you want to rest?” He slid open the door.

“Well, a little.” My muscles ache from the lack of movement. “Is… there a bed?” But he doesn’t seem to hear me. Inside the house, it was cold, empty of anything but the most necessary items. It was a house but not a home. It was like no one actually lived here. “…We are alone here. There is no one else?” We have like 10 rooms, for only us? I didn’t understand why the house was so big.

And with a halfhearted face, he answered, “Yeah, just us two now.” His teeth crunched.

I didn’t like seeing him like that. I won’t ask then… if it makes you sad. I wanted him to keep smiling contently.

He brought me to one of the many bedrooms and placed me down on a futon, leaving me alone to lay in the dark.

I have been resting my body for a week now, but a new environment can be tiring.

‘I was… adopted, just like that.’

I was incredibly lucky.

My new room is normal for a Japanese home, but there are enough of them in this house to be classified as a mansion.

A new house, a new father, even a new name. Kiritsugu gave this to me; it’s only right that I should follow him from now on. I really am tired, though. My eyes are heavy, and my thoughts begin to dissipate.

My breathing slows, and I fall into a red world.

---

My eyes open to the peace and quiet of my room, I’m sweaty all over, and my head burns from the heat of my own body. This is how I’ve been waking up since I got here, but I manage. It’s been two months since Dad came and adopted me.

I’m hurt, not physically but something deeper said the doctor. Something that will take a long time to heal. Calling him Dad feels more like a joke than reality, but he seems happy when I say it. Of course, to him, that means we play in the yard like school children. Sure, I am a kid, and it’s tons of fun and all… but… Dad is supposed to be an adult. He doesn’t seem to have a job, but we always have food in the house so he has to be doing something.

My first impression of him was right: he’s like a child. Sometimes, I think he’s having more fun than I am. Of course, he’s much bigger than me, he can catch me every time in tag, but I’m left just running after him. I don’t think I can ever catch up to him at this rate. I’ll be running after Kiritsugu until the day I die.

He was amazing, though. I felt like I would be happy if I could be like him.

It was about a week into my new life when I began to ask if he could teach me about Magic. But he was against it. He tells me it’s not something to take on so ‘frivolously’ whatever that even means. I wanted to know what he knew, and I felt really mad not knowing.

I’ve asked once per day and received a brief “no,” every time. But I know he’ll have to accept me at some point. It’s not something I can back down on. If I learn, then I can be like him. I can catch up. Anyway, it seems like things are about to change. At dinner yesterday, Dad told me he’s taking on a job.

He said it like it was a small thing. He said it was a favor for someone he owes somethings to.

He’s going to be an English tutor starting today, to someone he trusts enough to bring into our household almost every day. I didn’t even know he knew English, and now we have a mysterious new guest coming to the house.

I finally open my eyes and get out of bed. Looking back and recollecting my thoughts every morning helps me recover my memories. That’s what I was told, at least. It hasn’t done much of anything, but it does serve as an excuse to stay in bed a little longer. I’m sweaty all over, and my eyes are full of tears. I had the dream again. The same one that I’ve had every day since I came here, sometimes it’s long, but usually, it goes fast.

I can’t recall it fully, nor do I want to. All I can say is that I have been loud enough for Dad to be worried, and even now the color red hurts to look at.

After brushing my teeth and washing up, I start walking to the kitchen, thinking up what breakfast I’ll make.

Yes… I’m the one that makes it.

I’m eight years old, and yet I hold the responsibility for breakfast. The only reason I’m not making dinner every night is that Dad won’t let me use the stove without supervision. ‘I totally can do it!’ It’s not like he could do better; in fact, it’s surprising he hasn’t started a fire yet. He is abysmal at cooking, bad enough that I, through a single day of learning, was able to surpass him.

He’s really not great at some things…

I head to the kitchen, passing by the strange girl sitting at the table, and enter the pantry. Wrapping my little apron around my back, I start gathering the miso for a simple breakfast soup.

But then—

“That’s strange…”

Wasn’t there someone at the table just now…?

Dad always sleeps in late, but I know I saw someone. A girl with light brown hair tied in a ponytail. She’s wearing a yellow shirt with black stripes—almost like she’s trying to look like a tiger. And right now, she’s eating the mandarins I set aside last night for Dad.

My breakfast plan is ruined. I frown and look straight at her.

Now we’re just… staring at each other. This intruder in my home. I don’t know what to do. Maybe I should push her out?

But—she’s bigger than me.

Surprisingly, she speaks first.

“Who are you? What are you doing in Kiritsugu’s house?” she demands. Her eyes narrow with suspicion. Then, before I can answer, she gasps dramatically. “Wait! Are you a thief? A boy urchin thief, like in the movies!?”

“Uh…” Her sudden energy leaves me speechless.

She stands up, pointing at me like a detective catching a criminal. “Why have you come here, boy urchin thief? To steal from the great Emiya Kiritsugu?! I’ll have you know that I am his pupil from now on! I won’t allow it!”

“W-Wait…” I try to get a word in, but she’s already grabbing the mandarins.

Before I can react, she starts throwing them at me.

“Oof!” One hits my shoulder. “Ow—!” Another smacks my forehead.

The mandarins roll across the floor as I scramble to dodge her attacks. She’s… way too strong!

Desperate, I finally manage to yell out, “I LIVE HERE!”

That stops her. She lowers her arm, blinking in surprise. “…Huh?”

Panting slightly, I rub my forehead where one of the mandarins hit. That actually hurt…

She crosses her arms, still skeptical. “Hah! Not only do you beg for scraps from the great Emiya Kiritsugu, but you live here for free! If there’s anything I can’t tolerate, it’s a freeloader!”

Wait. What?

Before I can protest, she suddenly reaches into her bag.

With an exaggerated motion, she pulls out a shinai—a bamboo sword. But this isn’t like the ones we use at the dojo. The moment it’s revealed, I feel a strange pressure in the air. It looks normal, but somehow, it isn’t.

Her face shifts. Her eyes become sharp, focused—like a tiger about to pounce.

She takes a step forward.

I gulp.

“Uhh, Tiger-san, what are you going to do with that?” I ask hesitantly. I don’t know her name, but with that outfit, it feels appropriate.

Her expression darkens.

Uh oh.

“A tiger?! You little—!” She bares her teeth in a grin, her grip tightening on the shinai. “You’ve really done it now, thief. First, you insulted this honorable household, and now you dare insult me! I am not a tiger!“

She raises the shinai high.

I press my back against the wall. Nowhere to run!

“Prepare yourself, fiend!” she declares. “I call upon your full power—Tora-Shinai!”

She swings.

I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for impact—

—But nothing happens.

Cautiously, I peek one eye open.

Kiritsugu is standing behind her, gripping the end of the shinai effortlessly.

The atmosphere changes instantly.

With a sigh, he asks, “Taiga-chan… what exactly are you doing?”

She freezes.

Her face turns pink, her bravado vanishing. “O-Oh! Emiya-sensei! I, uh—!” She straightens up, clearing her throat. “I found this thief in your kitchen! I was protecting your honor, of course!”

Kiritsugu gives her a tired look. “Thief? No… This is my son, Shirou.”

Silence.

She stares at me, her mouth slightly open.

“…W-WHAAAT!? Emiya-sensei, you have a son!?”

“Indeed I do. In fact, I told you this just yesterday, didn’t I? Don’t you remember?”

Taiga’s confident expression falters. “Ahh, well, it’s just that, uh… yeah, you two don’t really look alike, is all. Hahaha…” She turns to me—her former victim—as if expecting support.

I sigh. “As for why we don’t look alike… well, I’m adopted. I would have said so if you hadn’t started throwing mandarins at me.”

Her mouth forms an “O” as she absorbs this information. “I see… Then you’re not a thief?”

I cross my arms. If anyone’s a thief, it’s you for taking my mandarins. But I let that slide and answer properly, “Nope. My name is Emiya Shirou, seven years old.” I bow, because even if she doesn’t act like it, she’s still my elder. I might even be eight now, but I don’t know—I don’t have a birthday.

She straightens up, still gripping her shinai. “Well, I’m Fujimura Taiga, fourteen years old. It’s good to meet you!” She bows back.

The situation seems to be resolved.

At least, until Dad takes the shinai from her hands and inspects it. His face darkens. “Hmmm. From what I know, Taiga-chan, you only just started kendo lessons. Yet this is a weapon that should only be used on trained opponents. And you were about to use it on Shirou?”

His tone is calm, but the look he gives her is anything but.

Taiga stiffens under his gaze. “N-No! Of course not! Kiritsugu-san, no—Emiya-san, no—Emiya-sama!” She fumbles through honorifics in desperation. “I just… wanted to show off! I mean—I was doing it for you! Wahhh!”

She bursts into tears.

Just a moment ago, she was a tiger-striped demon. Now she’s… a sobbing mess.

I haven’t cried since coming here, yet she breaks down so easily? She seems like the kind of person who acts invincible but crumbles over the strangest things.

What a troublesome girl…

A troublesome girl who is now clinging to me, using me as a human shield against Dad’s disappointment.

I sigh. “It’s alright, Old Man. She thought she was protecting the house, so I can’t blame her.” Somehow, I find myself defending her, despite the way my forehead still stings from a mandarin impact.

Dad eyes me for a long moment. For just a second, I think I see his gaze flicker red—but then, with a deep sigh, he exhales all his frustration.

“If you forgive her, then there’s no harm done. Well—except for the mandarins all over the floor.” He shakes his head. “I’ll be keeping this shinai in the dojo from now on. It’s not a toy for kids.”

With that, he turns and walks off, carrying the shinai as if it were something dangerous. I can’t shake the feeling that if that weapon had been used—even once—it wouldn’t have accepted anything less than murder.

…Scary.

After the fiasco, I somehow become Taiga’s emotional support.

First, she apologizes. Then she complains about looking bad in front of Dad. (Why does she even care so much?) And then she launches into a full life story—how she’s the granddaughter of a yakuza boss, her worries about finding love, and a bunch of other things I don’t know how to respond to.

I sigh and pat her head. “There, there.”

She sniffles. “I’m a good person, right, Shirou-kun?”

“Yes. I like you. You’re a good person.” Dad wouldn’t bring someone bad here… probably.

That’s apparently all the encouragement she needs. She crushes me in a hug, squeezing me like a stuffed animal. “Oh, Shirou! I’m going to come here basically every day! Therefore, I am officially declaring you my younger brother! From now on, you will address me as Fuji-nee!“

I blink. “Uh… you’ll have to ask Dad to adopt you first, but… I’ll support you?”

Her hug intensifies to the point that my head starts to feel light.

Is Dad just adopting anyone he meets?

“Aww, you’re sweet, Shirou!” She pulls back just enough to grin at me. “But you don’t need the same name to be family, you know. My father was adopted into my grandfather’s family, after all.”

She gives me a look.

The kind of look that says, I will not stop crying until you accept.

I groan in defeat. “Okay, okay… Fuji-nee.” My cheeks turn red as I say something so familiar.

Her face lights up. “You are perfect…! Hahaha! So cute!“

I barely get a chance to breathe before she starts pulling on my cheeks, stretching them like I’m some kind of doll.

Then, suddenly, she leans in and whispers, “It’s a secret, but your father told me that I’d be looking after you from now on.”

I frown. “If it’s a secret, why are you telling me?”

She pouts. “Shirou, siblings don’t keep secrets from each other. I hope you won’t hide anything from me in the future!”

…Sibling.

I’ve never had any. Yet why does my heart hurt so bad hearing that word?

For a moment, I don’t know what to say. But then I sigh and mutter, “Hah, okay, Fuji-nee.”

She finally lets go of me and plops down at the table. A few minutes later, Dad returns from the dojo, and their English lesson begins.

Feeling like I need some fresh air after all that, I decide to take a walk.

Dad says it’s fine, so I start exploring the neighborhood. It’s good to build my body back up.

Outside, the world is quiet.

I walk aimlessly, my mind still lingering on Taiga’s ridiculous antics.

But then—

A smell.

A thick, muddy, ashy scent clings to the air. It’s not sudden—it’s been there all along. I just hadn’t noticed it before.

Why today?

It’s not a pleasant smell. No normal person would find comfort in it.

But for me…

Dad smells like this.

I think I do too.

I don’t know what it means, but I feel a strange sense of contentment. A connection. If I share this with Dad, then maybe I am a little closer to him. Maybe I am not so far behind.

I follow the scent. Not consciously, my feet just move. Like a moth to a flame, I walk without thinking, without reason.

Time becomes strange. Every second stretches like an eternity, yet every time I blink, the scenery shifts—white turning to orange.

Before I even realize it, I’ve crossed the bridge.

And then I’m there.

A park.

Not just any park—that park.

The one just finished.

It’s a strange place. The city didn’t want to rebuild here, so they turned it into a memorial. It was easy for them considering nothing was left. But no one really visits. People avoid it, as if the air itself is still tainted.

Maybe it is.

Because the fire is still here. Not in flames, but in something deeper. In the earth. In the way the air feels heavier.

The fire isn’t near anymore. It’s far away, buried in time.

But it won’t let me forget.

It doesn’t want me to forget.

I hadn’t been here before. Not since then.

And yet, my body knew the way.

Why?

Why did I come here?

And then I see it.

Right in the middle of the park.

My house.

Not the one with Dad—the other one. The one before.

The house that no longer exists. I walk up the steps, though I know there are none. I open a door that isn’t there.

“I’m home,” I whisper.

The hallway unfolds before me.

Dad’s study, where papers and books are stacked in neat piles.

The living room, filled with the scent of warm food, of family, of home.

Smiles. Laughter.

Mom and Dad kiss, making us all groan in protest.

I step inside my old bedroom. The walls are warm, my bed soft. It’s early spring, but the air feels cold.

I want to stay.

I want this to be real.

But it’s not.

It’s like watching a movie, one only I can see.

My eyes see only an empty park, a lonely bench, scattered patches of grass.

…My mind—my mind insists this is home.

I feel it clawing its way back, my old life, pushing through the cracks in my memory.

But then—

It fades.

The warmth. The voices. The love.

Gone.

I don’t know when the tears start. Maybe it’s because I’m here, remembering. Maybe it’s because Taiga’s crying earlier loosened something in me.

I haven’t cried at all since I woke up in that hospital bed. I haven’t felt much of anything since then. But now, I do. And I don’t even know who’s crying anymore.

Is it the boy from back then?

Or the boy who lives now?

I sniff, rubbing my eyes.

I don’t want to look weak in front of Dad. If I do, it feels like I’m admitting something I don’t want to admit.

That I’ll never reach him.

That I’ll always be behind him.

A yawn escapes me. My legs ache.

The whole mess with Taiga left me exhausted. And I must have walked at least seven kilometers without realizing it.

I’ll just lie down for a little bit…

As sleep takes me, I see an unfamiliar dream.

A story of a good-natured boy, marked as pure evil.