Our interaction began ever since Suiko announced to Thalamik, Raymed, and Carmilla that Psytelier wouldn't be able to help with anything related to the United Front's agenda. At the time, I was back to my usual routine of monitoring people; this time, I was monitoring Raymed's for his own safety as instructed by the High Humans.
I mean, he is a High Human by definition, even though he's still 1% High Human.
At the time, I thought I was perfectly hidden. I was using my mana to cloak myself. But Raymed stopped in the middle of the courtyard and looked straight at the place where I was hiding.
"Kourin? Why are you still hiding? I know you're there… I mean, if you wanted to monitor me, you can do it in the open. Because I can't pretend that I don't notice you." Raymed scratched his head.
Heat flooded my cheeks.
So much for High-Human-grade stealth.
I guess this kind of thing don't work anymore on Thalamik or Raymed
I stepped from the shadows, dropping the cloak's illusion like a shed skin.
"Right. I… agree." My voice wavered, but I forced a smile.
Guess I don't have to hide anymore.
For the past 9 years, ever since mana was introduced to the world. I was recruited by people who refer to themselves as 'High Humans'. Even though in terms of technicality, High Humans arrived here around 1 year ago in this world. Our group, Psytelier, has been established for quite a while. High humans predicted that their world would soon join in with ours, so they made preparations so that upon arrival, they would already have established a network with society. That's why we at Psytelier were given the mission of monitoring the world and protecting High Humans that may or may not have been transported first to this world. The High Humans specifically tasked me to be their Scout, sending me to regions where I had orbited people from a distance. Warlords, scholars, and even a Dragon Demi-human student. I recorded, reported, and vanished.
That's what I do.
Ever since 2020, that is who Kourin is.
A scout that monitors parties of interest to the high humans.
Yet this time, the subject I was particularly interested in.
If I had to describe him.
A naive person who knows he can't but would still try to save everyone.
This person, Raymed, was supposed to be the same as how High Humans usually are. There is no High Human I have monitored who has a soft spoken attitude. They are all prideful and direct, and they interact with us purely objectively. So, for me to detect him on my radar with weird mana signatures resembling High Humans but see him with a soft-spoken attitude was enough to consider him an anomaly. Not to mention, I found out later that he was not a High Human yet, but a Human evolving toward High-Human genetics.
I have continuously watched him for over 1 month now.
Yet my evaluation of him still doesn't change.
He is indeed how I describe him to be.
A naive person who knows he can't but would still try to save everyone.
And to be honest, I have a feeling that...
Even if this person were to become fully High Human, he would still be the same.
I was lost in thought while walking with him. Then Raymed sauntered closer and asked. "Hey, I am kinda bored, so do you want to watch movies?"
"Uh… movies?"
"Ah! Um, the moving pictures? Cinema? Big screen, corn-like snacks called popcorn?" He mimed tossing popcorn into his mouth, missing by a kilometer.
Bits of pre-2020 civilian data shimmered at the edge of my mind. Yet it is hard for me to remember them. So I answered with a generic question. "I see. So which… um, titles did you have in mind?"
"That's the hard part. There is... Magical Girls Scramble, Mission I-Am-Possible, Reincarnated as A Beautiful Flying Monkey in Another World, Fly Me Toward the Blue Moon—the last one's supposed to be artsy."
I put a finger on my temple as I heard the meaningless names.
What could those names mean?
Are those naming literal?
As I was very confused, my mouth slipped. "My apologies... My memory before 2020 isn't… whole. Sorry. I don't know what any of those are."
Raymed's brow pinched, then softened. "Wait—you don't remember anything? Family, hometown?"
His concern speared deeper than how I generally thought he would respond.
In truth, I never have spoken about my memory wipe as the contract to work for the High Humans, but somehow the words spilled out. So I now have to explain the situation clearly.
"No. The High Humans, if I remember correctly, found me in a desperate situation after the merge of our worlds with the other three races. Through my dreams, we made a contract: I would get the help I needed, and after I completed what I had asked for, they would erase my memories. They said fragments of my past would compromise… efficiency."
Silence stretched. Wind fluttered his dark jacket.
Then, with abrupt fervor, "That's awful! And besides, why act like it's bad to know who you truly are? Work-life balance exists, you know!" Raymed said clearly
I blinked. I had never seen someone speak to me like that—scolding and protective all at once. It stung, yet warmed.
"But um... Do you want to know?"
"About my memories?"
"Yeah, about who you used to be?"
I thought about it for a second.
The past Kourin, without a doubt, had something she wanted that needed to happen.
Either she was too desperate at the time to accept the High Human's offer.
Or she was trying to do something good for herself or someone before forgetting everything because she wanted to escape.
But that's assuming she would do something like that.
"I am not actually sure."
"Ah, then we don't have to do it! Let's just try to do something if you ever feel like finding out."
Raymed diverted his stance on the conversation. It was as if he knew how to respect my boundaries. It was right of him to know that there is a possibility the past Kourin wanted to forget. He also wished to respect those wishes, perhaps.
So it is all up to me.
"Then, can I ask you? How crucial do you think it is for me to have my memories back?"
He stared at me with a weird look. "Kourin. Your memories are who you are! Even if in the past we would make naive decisions or even bad decisions. Ourselves in the past are still us. Even if we are different now, it doesn't mean we have to deny our past selves. At least that's what I think."
He was being highly philosophical.
"I thought being Philosophical was Thalamik's thing?"
"Well, I did rephrase some of the words he used to say..." Raymed put a hand on his head with a soft giggle.
In turn, I also giggled a bit.
"Then I'll take your word for it, Raymed."
"Ah, so you wanted to know more about your past?"
"I do. If you think it's that important. I think it's that important."
He gave me another weird look. "Kourin. Just because I think it's important doesn't mean you have to as well! Think for yourself whether you want to know or not!"
"I don't really have any preferences at the moment, Raymed. But perhaps once I begin to find out a bit more, I can decide."
"Ah, I see. Then I'll help in every way I can. Then, do you have a clue about where we could begin our journey to find out?"
"Probably Japan."
"JAPAN?"
"Yes. JAPAN."
"On second thought, if it's that far, let's schedule it for the weekends. What do you think?"
"I agree."
Well, I can't blame Raymed, it would be a 12-hour flight from here to Japan since we are on the European Continent. Besides, he still has classes for tomorrow.
"Then today, let's do movies. Tomorrow, we start something new to find out about your past. You, me, maybe Carmilla if she's not busy with classes."
"Or maybe Thalamik? Nah, he would say something like, 'That doesn't concern me one bit, the psytelier wouldn't even help us, '" Raymed mumbled.
I tried to open my mouth to protest… and hesitated.
Suiko's directive—no direct aid against Demon Lord Envoys—already chafed.
The High Humans trusted me to watch Raymed, but if I think about it, I was never supposed to live beside him like this. So now I feel as if this invitation felt like stepping off a map.
But he had gone this far, and our conversations seemed well.
I feel it's wrong to turn him down suddenly like this.
Then I'll play along and gradually retreat from him.
"Very well," I breathed, surprising myself. "Let's watch the movie."
We went to a cinema named Cineworld. The movie we are watching is Magical Girls Scramble.
Raymed insisted on buying tickets and snacks for me even though I said I didn't want them.
But I wasn't disappointed since the caramel popcorn suited my taste. I clutched the waxy bucket of caramel corn. Inside, the film burst into color—star-wands, pastel explosions, schoolgirl warriors shouting attack names longer than most spell chants.
Raymed watched with unabashed delight. I studied him more than the screen: every gasp, every involuntary laugh. As I observe again, evolution toward high human status has not dulled his empathy or any of his personality. It made me question why the other high humans are like that. Heck, if anything, he seemed more expressive than he usually is. Can I say that his evolution magnified his personality more? Perhaps it was due to his nature, also. Where most candidates would grow arrogant, he remained… gentle.
A person who has a lot of power yet tries very carefully not to abuse said power.
Halfway through, an animated transformation sequence painted the auditorium pink.
I leaned over. "Is it normal for entertainment to be this… bright and colourful?"
He whispered back, "Absolutely. It is because Magical Girls are actually made for well... girls."
"Ah, but you like this kind of film even though it's meant for girls?"
"Ah, well..." Raymed hesitated before answering, "I used to watch this with my little sister. So yeah, I still follow this anime even though I can't watch it with her."
"I see... is your sister well?"
"Ah... she is no longer with us." Raymed forced a smile.
For the first time, I saw Raymed's face without its usual brightness. But a pained expression. It made me feel like I was ruining the mood.
I quickly diverted the conversation after a few minutes of a moment of silence.
"Who do you think is the villain?"
"Ah, probably that cat mascot? Total foreshadowing—it's probably the villain."
"How do you know?"
"Well, this kind of movie has a similar formula since it's made for kids. So by pattern recognition." He winked.
Raymed is indeed a soft person, yet he didn't get enough credit for his intelligence. Well, he doesn't look that sharp if you compare him to Thalamik, of course. But Thalamik would make anyone look not that sharp. Even compare myself included.
Afterwards, we strolled the road behind the theatre. City lights illuminated the city.
However, I can't seem to calm down as my senses kept scanning—old habits—but being beside him dulled my usual instincts.
"You said Japan, right? Should we start to go this weekend? We have to catch a plane to go there."
"That might be true."
"But wait, if you came here from Japan? Did you take the plane? If so, then that would mean the government here has data on you."
As I said, he is spot on. I don't know how many rules I have broken until now, but I felt as if I should not care too much about it.
"Psytelier can actually go from place to place very easily."
"Say that again?"
"Again?"
"No, what you said before!"
"We can go from place to place very easily."
"How!?"
"We have access to portals that connect to many locations around the world."
"AH! Wow....Then can we use them to go to Japan?"
"I am pretty sure we can," I said. "If we don't get caught." I grinned.
"Hahaha, I see. But is it okay?"
"Maybe," I allowed. The notion threaded both hope and terror through my chest.
"But if I recover my memories and something that conflicts with current orders… I don't really think I can-"
"Then we renegotiate your orders towards the High Humans. You're a person first." His voice sounded with conviction, sensing my not-so-confident choice.
The moonlight shines beautifully that night.
I then realised what felt "not right" about him: even if he ascended fully, Raymed would never weaponise that status like others had.
He would remain the boy who offered friendship to a shadow with no past.
Raymed is just that kind of person.
I stopped at a bridge railing. Below us was a river canal.
"I have to ask why help me? Monitoring you is my job. Me doing this isn't me trying to protect you personally."
"I know that. It is your job to monitor me. It's just me being selfish." He said.
"Selfish?"
"I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Even back then, when we fought, I feel like I judged you harshly for beating up Thalamik. I have never seen anyone that way before. It felt like my expectation of you being a good person was shattered, and I was just full of anger. Then I saw that what happened was a literal misunderstanding. I feel like you are entitled not to be judged like that. So I wish to know you more personally."
"I see, so you are doing this out of your forgiveness?"
"Wait, What? How did it come to that? It may stem from that, but I am curious about you, too! Ever since we met, even!"
Raymed suddenly shut his mouth. His face was beet red.
I don't quite understand what he seems to be embarrassed about.
Until I figure it out.
Ever since we met, Raymed has been curious about me.
Curious = Interesting
I look away from him to hide my face.
But somehow our awkward situation feels really funny. A laugh escaped me—rusty, but real.
"All right. Med. I'll see you tomorrow." I said, still not facing him.
"Promise?" He said.
Turning back to face him, I saw him offering his pinky finger.
We sealed our pinky fingers together. It was a childish human custom I barely remembered, but somehow, I knew it was sacred.
When we parted, I recloaked instinctively—old reflex.
Yet for the first time, the veil felt thin, optional.
Tomorrow we will start looking.
I start leaping to the rooftops.
And whatever happens next. If the High Humans disagree, well, maybe they can file a complaint.
Beneath the cloak, I smiled.
***
Our search began the next rain-streaked Saturday. I still had no luck getting a chance to use the portal to Japan, so instead, Raymed suggested we go somewhere else.
So we go to 'The Promenade'—a glass gallery suspended over the canal, hummed with shoppers. Raymed insisted civilian camouflage required more than my white combat tunic, so he helped me pick through racks of jackets and streetwear until, in a boutique named SewSewn, a rotating mannequin presented a minimalist white sundress.
As I put it on and looked in the mirror, it happened.
I was suddenly standing on Tatami mats that flashed beneath my feet.
Warm summer wind carried the cry "K-%413!"—a nickname no one in Europe could have minted.
"Are you okay!? Kourin?" Raymed took my hand.
I gripped his hand and the fabric. My limbs are trembling.
Raymed saw the change with a worried expression.
"I am okay, it was just a vision."
He smiled before immediately buying the dress and adding a black hair tie. "To add your hair tie collection."
"So you don't like my green hair tie?"
"I didn't say that!"
Outside, the drizzle that had occurred had lifted.
Sunlight fractured across wet cobbles and set the canal ablaze.
I hid my face beneath the brim so he would not see the tears I could not explain.
If I can be honest, my heart felt heavy, and I don't know why I even cried.
But I want to know more.
About myself.
Week three delivered another shard of the past.
Cineworld re-released a remaster of a Japanese film that retells the story of a man whose organs were sacrificed to demons, and now he must kill them all to get them back. Then, during a scene where the main protagonist is fighting against the father, the one who sacrifices him to the demons, I murmured the exact lines, "Father. I forgive you." I said it in half a heartbeat before the subtitles appeared. Throughout the movie, Raymed's brows winged upward. He later bought the poster and circled the silhouetted pagoda.
"Kyoto, Kiyomizu Temple," he said. "First portal target."
Commercial flights would have taken twelve hours in theory, but due to the air travel ban, it could take longer. So the option would be to use Psytelier's shop concealed a maintenance gate—sigils keyed to safe waypoints—and I alone could authorise its use outside directives.
Suiko was away on procurement, and Recca, fond of Raymed's earnestness, slipped us the copper ring that powered the frame. Mid-week, after Raymed's destruction-magic practicum, we ducked through the portal and stepped onto the moss-lined steps of Kiyomizu Temple.
Cicadas thrummed exactly as the memory echo had promised.
When I tugged the bell rope, the resonant pulse rattled through bone and thought alike; images cascaded—me racing these very steps, a woven charm clutched to my chest—and evaporated before I could fix them.
Raymed watched the tremor in my hands, offered no lecture, only a quiet presence.
We returned to Europe before campus curfew, and each of us was shaken differently.
The fifth week unspooled gentler but no less revealing moments.
Raymed started to skip classes. So I scolded him. But he still escorted me to Coffease, a canal-side café famous for origami-wrapped lattés. A tiny paper crane perched on my cup, its wings creased with loving precision, and in an instant, I was back in a bright classroom garlanded with hundreds of cranes, children laughing while we hung them from the ceiling. "Year?" Raymed asked softly as I surfaced.
"Maybe 2019," I guessed, and he etched the datum into his leather notebook.
Our sixth search led us deep into bureaucracy.
We bribed a dwarf archivist of the Unified City Hall with honey cakes shaped like anvils. In return, he produced a shipping manifest dated midsummer 2020: Passenger K. ?, port of Kobe, destination Naples, vessel flagged "medical evacuation." So I had crossed continents by sea mere days before the Merge, long before Psytelier publicly existed.
"Is it possible that even before the merge, you have been in contact with the High Humans?" Raymed theorised, eyes alight. The revelation carved a hollow in my chest. I never had thought about it before, but what if the High Humans really did make the deal even before the world had merged? It would bring a whole different story since, if so, how long have I been making that deal with them?
Seventh week crowned itself with the Lantern Regatta, the Unified City's most luminous tradition. Paper lanterns—each spell-stamped for buoyancy—drifted down the central river while fireworks scattered their ghosts across the water.
Carmilla and Thalamik came with us to enjoy the event. I exchanged polite nods but kept close to Raymed. We painted our lantern with the twin crane motif and released it under the pyrotechnic bloom. As its glow merged with the current, I remembered a different shoreline festival, smaller, incandescent with torches, a woman's hand resting gently and protectively on my shoulder.
The face refused clarity, but warmth lingered long after the vision faded. On the row back, Raymed's sleeve brushed mine, and in that accidental contact, I felt the certainty that whatever I had once lost, I had gained something fierce and living beside me.
Our two-month vigil's eighth and final week returned us to Kyoto for the decisive piece. We portal-hopped at dawn, aiming this time for the narrow lanes of Gion.
A confectioner's shop steeped in anko steam crowned the alley with nostalgia, yet offered little certainty. The silver-haired owner, polishing a tray of mochi, peered at me over spectacles that magnified the tremor in his eyes.
"Strange…for a heartbeat, I thought you were someone I once served," he murmured, voice rough with years rather than recognition.
He fumbled beneath the counter and produced a narrow packet sealed in waxed paper. Inside lay a silk scrap—half an armband—its snow-crane pattern so faded the birds looked like ghostly brushstrokes.
"Customers used to commission pairs of these," he said.
"Can't recall their names now—just remember the cranes. When I saw your face, the memory twitched." No titles, dates, or surname—only the same motif we chased for eight weeks.
Dawn smeared rose over the canal as Raymed and I reached the pedestrian bridge where our first promise was sealed. The pastel sky could not lift the fog inside me; the words erupted before I could cage them.
"Eight weeks and nothing!" I slammed the railing with my fist. "Every clue is half a name, a fabric, a shopkeeper squinting at me like a fatamorgana. What if I never find who I am? What if I've always been a manufactured tool?" My voice cracked, unlike how I am usually.
Frustration filled my entire being.
"And what if—what if I finally remember and hate the person I was?"
Tears blurred the river lights. I tried to breathe, failed, and sank to my knees.
Raymed dropped beside me, hands hovering until I nodded.
He cupped my shoulders. "Kourin..."
"I'm so afraid of everything..." I rasped.
"Then close your eyes and listen." His tone trembled yet held. "Yes, you were sent to watch me. Yes, Psytelier, the High Humans—maybe they all used you. But 'tools' don't laugh at bad movie jokes. 'Tools' don't drag me out of danger or scold me for skipping classes."
I shook my head. "That's just habit programming—"
"No," he cut in, voice rising. "That's you. The Kourin who spends his free days with me. Kourin likes Japanese drama and is interested in magical girls and confectioneries. None of that was in any mission briefing. That's who you are."
A sob clawed its way out. "But what if the real me is someone cruel? Someone who did horrible things?"
"Then we'll confront her together," he said, pulling me into a fierce embrace. "If she's cruel, we'll hold her accountable. If she's broken, we'll mend her. If she's nothing like the woman I know—" He paused, voice thick. "—I'll still be like this to that stranger, too, because she's still you."
I buried my face in his jacket, words muffled. "You can't promise that."
"Then believe in me and watch me." He let the silence stretch, punctuated only by distant sirens. "Kourin—Scout, Researcher, Mystery—whatever titles we uncover, they're just added details. What I wanna say is that, you're not alone."
"Honestly, what is it with you! We have just known each other for barely 3 months. Yet you keep saying stuff as if you'll never leave me. Are you that naive!?"
I felt his heartbeat suddenly pounding hard before calming down.
"Yeah, maybe I am that naive. I am not like Thalamik, who is always level-headed. I am not like Carmilla, who is always so careful when acting around others. I am just a person who acts on how I feel. A person who acts out what he thinks."
Hearing his heartbeat and soothing voice slowly calmed me.
Gradually, the tremors eased. He eased back just enough to meet my gaze.
"Maybe I am a naive person. But that's just how I am. That's how I feel I should act. So I think that's the real me. Even with every power in the world, that would never change." He gave me a genuine smile.
I giggled.
"Better?"
"Not whole," I admitted, "but… steadier."
He released me from his embrace and raised his pinky. "Then let's renew the contract."
I managed a watery laugh. "Still such a child."
"Children keep promises." Our fingers linked.
"Med..."
He looks a bit surprised before answering, "Yes?"
"I don't want to know anymore about myself for the time being. Next month, can we hang out like we always do, without worrying about my past?"
"Of course!"
"Ah, and also I am sorry. But I still won't help you with anything related to United Front, even if we are close now!"
"Hey, I didn't even think about stuff like that, okay? What do you take me for?"
"Yeah, a naive person like you wouldn't have thought to do something like that..." I smiled.
"Hey!" Raymed said, annoyed by my barrage of comments on his naivety.
As expected, my evaluation of him didn't change.
No, I guess it did change.
Before, I only saw him as a naive person who knew he couldn't save everyone but still tried to do so.
But I think I know what he meant.
It's not about whether you succeed in saving everyone or not.
What Med meant is that to never lose 'hope'.
He is the personification of 'hope'.
At least for me, that's what he meant.
So seeing him like this... I can't really find the correct words to describe how I am feeling.
***
After the blast, the plains still trembled from the aftershock. Ash and dust swirled like mourning veils over the torn battlefield, the sky above cast in a leaden gray. The smell of scorched earth mingled with iron and mana, thick and suffocating.
Carmilla was making her way to Kourin and Raymed's locations. Noticing her, Kourin stumbled through the haze, cradling Raymed's limp body. Blood soaked through her sleeves, staining her white robes with ugly, spreading crimson. She didn't care. She couldn't afford to.
"Raymed… hang on… just—just stay with me, please," she whispered, her voice splintering between each breath. Her boots splashed through mud, then through blood. Carmilla met her halfway, dropping to her knees as Kourin collapsed beside her, laying Raymed's battered form on the soft grass.
"I—I brought him…" Kourin panted, trembling. "H-he's not breathing."
Carmilla's hands were already glowing with healing light, green luminous magic racing into Raymed's chest and limbs. Her lips moved fast, chanting every incantation she knew. The mana surged—but then flickered.
"No…" Carmilla whispered. "It's not working."
Kourin choked out a sob. "W-What do you mean it's not working!?"
Carmilla gritted her teeth, pouring more energy in. But each time the magic touched his body, it withered, repelled as if rejected by the very essence of him.
"There's contamination," she said through gritted teeth. "His cells are saturated with… her mana. Demon Lord Envoy-level… It's corrupting his system. It's like poison running through every circuit of his being—I can't filter it fast enough. I am not an expert in this. I don't know how to diagnose this."
Kourin fell to her knees, clutching at Raymed's unmoving hand. "No, no, no… Raymed, please…" Her fingers curled tighter. "You promised… You said we'd face it together… You can't—! Don't leave me like this!"
The world blurred around her, tears crashing down her cheeks in jagged rhythm.
"Why!? Why does it have to be like this!?" she screamed.
"Why did you shield me? I am stronger than you! Why did you shield me from the blast? It should've been me..."
Kourin lowered her gaze, "Why are you the one who has to pay the price? It was my mistake...."
Raymed's chest was still.
Carmilla leaned forward, placing her ear to his heart. "Still nothing… Kourin, I…"
"No," Kourin whispered. "No, he's not gone. He can't be."
Silence answered her.
Then, without warning, the air rippled. A pulse of mana, cold and sharp, exploded outward like a second heartbeat resuming in the world itself. It was subtle, like thunder trapped beneath water, and yet it turned every head.
Carmilla lifted her gaze.
From the torn horizon strode a figure wrapped in shadows and fire.
Hair like midnight.
Eyes burning cerulean.
Every step he took melted the dust beneath him into glass.
"Thalamik you're here!" Carmilla breathed.
Kourin's head snapped up. Her eyes widened in disbelief as he approached, wearing a black coat fluttering behind him, pale blue flames licking at his fingertips.
Thalamik stopped three paces from them, eyes fixed on Raymed's body. His expression was unreadable and filled with calculation. But when he finally spoke, it was aimed at Kourin.
"Kourin…" His voice was razor sharp, cutting clean through the grief-choked air. "What the hell are you doing?"