Warmth.
That was the first thing he felt.
Not power.
Not fear.
Not emptiness.
Warmth.
His eyes slowly opened, the world coming back in fragments—blurred colors, the sound of breathing that wasn't his own, the faint scent of something human. For the first time since waking beneath that rotten tree, he felt… grounded.
He was lying on her lap.
The girl looked down at him, relief flooding her face the moment their eyes met.
"Oh you're awake."
Her voice was soft, careful, like she was afraid he might disappear if she spoke too loudly.
Michi tried to move, but his body felt heavy, as if the memories that had assaulted him earlier were still weighing him down. His chest rose and fell slowly. His head throbbed.
"Where… am I?" he asked.
"You passed out," she said. "You were shaking, mumbling things I couldn't understand. I brought you inside and let you rest."
Inside.
The word echoed strangely in his mind.
He stared up at the ceiling, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. The storm inside his head had quieted, but the echoes remained voices that didn't belong to this time, images soaked in blood and moonlight.
A sword.
A vow.
A command.
You must avenge. No matter what it takes.
He clenched his fist without realizing it.
"…Did I say anything?" he asked.
The girl hesitated.
"You kept saying you couldn't forget. That you weren't allowed to."
Michi closed his eyes.
He didn't understand what he was supposed to remember. Only that whatever it was… it was important enough to tear him apart from the inside.
He slowly sat up, and she pulled her legs back, giving him space. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then she smiled small, awkward, human.
"You scared me, you know," she said. "For a second I thought you were really a god or something."
Michi looked at his hands.
They looked normal. Too normal.
Yet he could still feel it. That faint divine presence, barely restrained, like the sky holding back a storm.
"A god…" he murmured. "Why does that word feel so heavy?"
She tilted her head. "You don't remember anything at all?"
He shook his head.
"No past. No name. Just… fragments."
She exhaled, then straightened up as if making a decision.
"Well," she said, "then let's start properly."
She extended her hand toward him.
"My name is Shuzaku. Nice to meet you."
The moment she spoke it
Something deep inside him stirred.
Not rage.
Not sorrow.
Recognition.
The air trembled, just slightly, like the world itself had paused to listen. For a heartbeat, Michi felt as if the sky above Tokyo had turned its gaze toward him.
A forgotten name.
A forgotten god.
And somewhere beyond the veil of memory, something smiled.