A Few Days Later
When Takeshi opened his eyes, the world felt distant.
The first thing he saw was a blank, white ceiling—too clean, too still. The faint scent of antiseptic filled the air. His body ached as though it didn't quite belong to him, and his throat felt dry when he tried to speak.
Then he turned his head.
Aiko sat beside him.
Her eyes were red, swollen from crying, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as if she hadn't moved in hours. The moment she noticed him awake, she leaned forward, relief flickering across her face.
"Takeshi…" she whispered.
"Mom…" His voice came out weak. "…Where's Dad?"
Aiko froze.
Just for a second.
Then she forced a smile—gentle, careful, but not quite real.
"He's… at the police station," she said softly. "Don't worry. He'll come see you in a few days."
Takeshi stared at her.
Even through the haze of exhaustion, he could feel it.
Something was wrong.
The way her voice wavered.
The way her eyes avoided his.
His chest tightened.
The Truth
When the police arrived that day, both Takeshi and Haruto were unconscious.
Witnesses had already called for help. The criminals had been identified quickly—known offenders, tied to trafficking networks operating in nearby regions.
But the damage was severe.
One man had shattered ribs.
Another was left permanently crippled.
And Yami…
Still hadn't woken up.
So Haruto made a choice.
He stepped forward—and took the blame.
He claimed responsibility for the excessive violence. Said he had lost control. That everything that happened… was his doing.
The law didn't care about intent.
Only outcome.
He was fined heavily.
And sentenced to six months in prison.
Aiko had pleaded with him—begged him to fight it.
But Haruto only shook his head.
"Take care of Takeshi," he had said. "That's enough."
After Discharge
When Takeshi learned the truth—
Something inside him broke.
His hands trembled as the memories returned.
The sound of bones snapping.
The impact of his fists.
The sight of his father collapsing.
His breathing grew uneven.
This power…
His fingers curled tightly.
It's a curse.
Because of me… Dad is in prison.
Because of me… people were destroyed.
His thoughts spiraled, dragging something older with them—memories from another life.
A father he had misunderstood.
A home he had abandoned.
Regret that came too late.
I made him suffer before…
And now… I'm doing it again.
Days passed.
Takeshi spoke less.
Then barely at all.
Aiko noticed.
Of course she did.
She tried to reach him—soft words, gentle reassurance, quiet presence.
But every time, he turned away.
As if he didn't deserve to be seen.
One evening, she found him in the garden.
Sitting still.
Staring up at the sky.
She didn't speak at first. Just sat beside him, close enough that he would know she was there.
After a long silence, she spoke quietly.
"Takeshi… do you know why your father and I love you so much?"
He didn't answer.
But he didn't move away either.
"You gave us a reason to live again," she continued, her voice soft but steady. "After everything we lost… you brought light back into our lives."
Her hand rested gently on his shoulder.
"So don't throw yourself into darkness."
Takeshi's eyes stung.
He wanted to believe her.
He really did.
But the weight inside his chest didn't loosen.
The Visit
A few days later, they went to see Haruto.
The prison felt cold.
Unforgiving.
Takeshi walked beside his mother, each step heavy, as if he were walking toward judgment.
When Haruto appeared behind the glass—
That was it.
The tears came before he could stop them.
"Dad…" his voice cracked. "Don't you blame me?"
Haruto's expression didn't change.
"If I hadn't—" Takeshi continued, his words breaking apart, "Mom wouldn't have been hurt… you wouldn't be here…"
His hands trembled.
"Isn't this all my fault?"
Silence.
Then—
Haruto leaned forward.
"Takeshi."
His voice was firm.
Sharp enough to cut through the doubt.
"Don't be a coward."
The words hit hard.
"Don't carry the weight of things that aren't yours," Haruto continued. "Your mother got hurt because she was in danger. Those men attacked us because of who they are."
His gaze didn't waver.
"You didn't cause that."
Takeshi shook his head weakly.
"But I hurt them… what if they die because of me?"
Haruto's expression softened—but only slightly.
"Listen carefully," he said. "Power isn't defined by how much damage it can do."
He paused.
"It's defined by what you choose to protect."
Takeshi fell silent.
"I know you," Haruto continued. "You don't want to hurt people. That's why you need control. Running from your power won't protect anyone—it'll only make you weaker."
His voice lowered, steadier now.
"That's why I told you to learn carving."
Takeshi blinked.
"To control your hands," Haruto said, "before you try to control your strength."
The words settled deep.
Takeshi's mind drifted back—two lives, same mistake.
Running away.
Blaming others.
Breaking what little he had.
But not this time.
His fists clenched.
Tears still fell—but something else rose with them.
Resolve.
No more running.
No more excuses.
I'll become strong… not to destroy—but to protect.
Haruto smiled faintly.
"That's my son."
He raised his hand, pressing it gently against the glass.
"Don't let fear chain you," he said. "Use it. Let it sharpen you."
Aiko stood beside them, silent.
Watching.
Her heart ached—but beneath the pain, something stronger grew.
Pride.
Because even surrounded by guilt…
Her son was beginning to rise.
And when he did—
He wouldn't just be strong.
He would be unbreakable.
End of Chapter 7