After that farewell with Misaki, Masaru felt something truly strange in his heart—a feeling beyond words. He walked with light steps toward home. The familiar roads, where he had always endured so many curses. But now, he no longer felt them. His heartbeat echoed with every crisp yet lightened footstep, gliding through the gentle evening breeze, at the hour when everyone had already returned home.
"Huh… smoke."
Sniff sniff. Suddenly, he caught the smell of thick smoke billowing from deep within the forest. From the direction of his home.
What is Grandma cooking that's making so much smoke…? Could it be…
At that thought, Masaru felt an icy chill. His limbs began to grow heavy. Deep within his primal instincts, a shiver of pure dread flickered.
He sprinted toward that old wooden house. His footsteps pounded frantically, his heart racing wildly. The image of his grandmother's smile—the last time he had seen her smile—flashed through his mind like lightning, then went dark.
"Damn it… why isn't that sword here? According to the intel we received, it should have been right here. That bastard must've lied to me."
A voice slammed directly into Masaru's consciousness, where chaos was already raging.
"Ha ha hafaa…"
His breath came in ragged, broken gasps. His eyes widened as he witnessed a scene he couldn't believe.
The house was engulfed in a ferocious blaze, savage flames and thick smoke devouring it whole.
Standing before it was a man. A figure with the casual posture of someone watching a grand fire festival. He wore a demon mask, his hair a fiery red, styled as if a blazing mane of flames was burning atop his head. He was draped in a mysterious black cloak.
"GRANDMA… GRANDMA! AAAAA!"
Masaru didn't stop to think. A desperate scream tore from his throat as his body hurled itself straight into the raging inferno, right before the red-haired man's eyes. Masaru dug like a madman, heedless of his hands being burned down to the very bone. He kept digging through the smoldering, smoke-choked wreckage. Sweat poured off him like a waterfall. His body caught fire, as if he were bathing in the flames themselves.
The horrifying sight made even the red-haired man flinch. He didn't know who this kid was. Where he'd come from. But judging by his actions, he figured the guy was insane.
Who is this brat…? Did he just call out "Grandma"? Could he be that old hag's… Ah, so that's it… hahaha.
He smirked, a deep, twisted grin beneath his mask, satisfied with his work. Even though he hadn't found the 'Nichinichi-to'—the legendary sword of the Toyotomi clan—the sight of this deranged, drugged-out madness excited him strangely.
"HAHAAHAHH… Boy. Your grandmother is no more. I burned that old hag to ashes and torched this shitty house along with her. Not my fault—I couldn't find that sword, so I had to do it."
The emotionless voice echoed from behind Masaru's scorched back.
"Stop digging. It's useless. She's dead. You'll die from those burns. Hehe."
The mocking laughter slithered over Masaru's despair like tickling fingers. The image of his grandmother. The image of that kind, gentle grandmother who always made porridge for him, who always cared for him and looked after him with all her heart after those hellish days at school. Even though he was different, even though no one stood by him—there was always that grandmother. A person radiating pure, boundless compassion. A steadfast anchor that gave him faith and the will to try each day, and now he even had Misaki too.
But now, everything was drowning in a sea of flames and despair.
"GAAAAAAAAAAGAGAGAGAGAAGAGAGAGAAAGAGAGAGAGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAAAGAAAAAAAAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAG..."
BOOOOOM!
The scream erupted like a detonated bomb. A surge of pink energy burst forth, forming a pillar that shot straight into the sky.
The explosion unleashed a colossal shockwave, crashing into everything around it like a tsunami sweeping everything away. Tree trunks bent to one side, the white snow melting off their canopies.
"What… What the hell is happening?!"
The shockwave roared onward, shattering even the red-haired man's arrogance. He fought to keep his balance against the overwhelming force.
Impossible. PINK… PINK PAIN? How can this be… I was sure… I was sure this village, this area, had no Espers. Damn it. No… No… this brat just awakened. Awakened?!
THUMP!
A direct impact slammed into his mind like a series of warning bells.
WHITE… WHITE BEAR.
This feeling. This pressure. And this terrifying, immense volume of PINK PAIN—surging wildly within the young boy—it carried the presence of that very shadow.
WHITE BEAR!
Sweat drenched him as if he were standing next to a flame of a thousand degrees. As if he were truly face-to-face with WHITE BEAR. He stared in drugged shock at the boy screaming in madness, the colossal wave of "Esper Power" (PINK PAIN) roaring before him.
"Hey, hey, don't joke around… don't joke. He just awakened. How can he have this much incredible power?" His voice trembled. "Im… possible… Who the hell is he?"
"I will… kill you."
THUD!
Masaru spoke through his scorched, entirely burned body. Only a gaze of pure hatred and charred pants remained. An invisible pressure advanced, crushing the man's heart—the desolate rasp of ultimate despair. His legs trembled—fear, or excitement? Perhaps both.
FWOOSH BOOM!
The pink energy pulsed and detonated into scattered orange-yellow sparks behind Masaru. A figure emerged. A monster. No. If anyone looked upon it, the only word they could utter would be…
It had no legs. Only a long, black tail flicking swiftly, hovering in the air. Its skin was a refined, deep crimson, with two massive, powerful arms. Behind it spread a pair of jet-black wings like a raven's. On its head were two sharp black horns and hair that blazed with living fire. Its bizarre eyes bore strange yellow symbols (an X in the right eye, an O in the left), and it had a huge, razor-toothed maw. Seeing this terrifying form, anyone would instantly recognize… they were standing before a true demon.
"Well, well… finally… this day has come."
Killing intent radiated thickly from the entity. Whether it was truly a living being or a demon was unclear, but one thing was certain—it belonged to a completely different world. A different class, born from the ultimate depths of agony. The entity shifted to the left, beside Masaru. It stood about four to five meters tall. Its build was sleek yet solid. The temperature and pressure it emitted soared skyward. The surrounding snow hissed and melted, like snow meeting magma.
Masaru turned his eyes toward it. He felt a torrent of power surging through his body. Even though his full-body burns were at least third-degree or worse, for now, he felt nothing. All that remained was the boiling of his blood and the millions of nerve cells snapping from sheer fury. Masaru clenched his fist until it bled. The smell of charred flesh rose, matched only by the absolute hatred in his eyes for that bastard. The bastard who had caused all of this.
Grandma… Minamoto-san… I'm… sorry…
Amid that thought, he clutched the blue charm pouch Misaki had given him—the pouch that had given him faith in life, a promise, and the most beautiful small dreams.
But… what a pity…
FWOOOOSH!
Wha… what? This brat's Esper power just skyrocketed… and stabilized. Who is he… in just one awakening, he unlocked high-level PINK PAIN? Impossible… how can this be? And the volume of Pink Pain is absurdly, impossibly huge. Absurd absurd absurd… And on top of that, it's a 'Flesh Manifestation—Beast Flesh Body.'
GENIUS!
THIS BRAT… IS TERRIFYING!
CHINSU stepped back, stunned by the unfolding situation. One hand scratched his fiery red hair in a mix of utter astonishment and extreme agitation, just like his chaotic hairstyle. Everything happening, though in a fleeting instant, felt like a thousand bullets riddling his mind. It was as if he were witnessing someone shatter a hundred-year-old record.
"HAHA… Impressive, kid. But too bad it's only a momentary surge. Your body will die soon enough—from burns, from heat loss, from dehydration." He smirked, spreading his arms wide. "But I'll give you credit—you're strong…"
WHOOSH!
"Huh…"
BOOOOOM!
A sound of tearing wind and the explosive crack of the snow-covered ground. A direct punch slammed toward CHINSU while he was still busy running his mouth. The entity in the form of a demon acted without hesitation. Smoke and dust mixed with the hiss of vaporizing snow in the aftermath of the earth-shaking blow. Masaru stood at a distance, his body collapsing to the ground. Whatever else could be said, his body was critically dehydrated and losing heat from the burns. If this continued, he would die before he could kill the bastard. Masaru didn't need to speak—it was as if the entity acted on its own, already understanding him all too well.
"Aiya… what a punch." A voice emerged unexpectedly from the smoke, a figure stepping out with arrogance. "Strong, indeed."
FWOOOSH!
The lighter in his hand suddenly ignited into a savage flame. His fist transformed into fire.
"RED ROCK."
FWOOOOOM!
A punch. A literal flaming punch hurtled toward the demonic entity like a blazing freight train. The sudden heat spike caused the pressure to skyrocket. A flash of fire illuminated the midnight forest, vaporizing the surrounding snow in an instant. The inferno engulfed the entity like a tsunami of fire at thousands of degrees, ready to incinerate everything in its path.
"Eh…"
But when the flames cleared, the entity still stood there, utterly unperturbed, as if nothing had happened.
CHINSU's pupils dilated behind his mask. He was stunned by the scene before him. Even after taking that massive fiery punch head-on, the entity didn't have a single scratch. Let alone a burn.
Are you kidding me!
"Die!"
Suddenly, the demonic entity's hand blazed with violent flames, matching the guttural darkness of its voice. In an instant, it formed a sword made of fire—razor-sharp, roaring with terrifying heat. Like a Katana fresh from the scorching forge of a legendary god-smith.
"Damn it. Fire doesn't work on it."
Fwoosh!
The flame katana in the demonic entity's hand roared, whipping a searing wave of heat toward CHINSU. The snow beneath his feet melted into a thick, bubbling slush, as if it were being boiled. Masaru stood behind, his trembling legs barely supporting his body, which was crumbling from his burns—but his blazing red eyes did not waver. Only one thought remained in his head.
Kill him.
"You bastard..."
CHINSU gritted his teeth behind his mask. He took a step back. Then another. The survival instinct of a man who had lived through hundreds of battles screamed inside his head: Run. Run now. This is not something you can handle. The volume of PINK PAIN radiating from the monster in front of him wasn't diminishing. It remained terrifyingly stable, like a nuclear reactor that had just been activated with no sign of stopping.
"CHINSU! Retreat!"
A female voice rang out from behind him. Right near the ground, an old, rotting wooden window frame suddenly swung open in midair, emitting a dim light as if from another dimension. WINDOW's hand reached out, grabbing the collar of CHINSU's cloak.
"What the hell are you doing?! Retreat! He's going to die soon anyway! There's no time!"
"I... I know! But..."
CHINSU bit his lip, his eyes still locked on Masaru. He wasn't willing to accept this. Just a little more, and he could have found the whereabouts of the "Nichinichi-to." But then this damn brat came out of nowhere, with this monstrous power—what the hell was this?
Ah, whatever… he's going to die soon anyway.
"HURRY UP!"
WINDOW snapped, yanking him hard toward the window frame. The demonic entity roared, swinging its flame katana down. But CHINSU had already twisted his body, diving through the window frame just before the blade could touch him.
SLAM!
The window frame slammed shut, vanishing into the void as if it had never existed. The flame katana cleaved through empty space, hurling a gust of scorching heat into the night.
Masaru stood there, gasping. The demonic entity still hovered beside him, its symbol eyes (X O) sweeping back and forth as if searching for traces of the enemy. But there was nothing left. Only the crackling fire from the wreckage of the house, and the wind howling through the bare trees.
"Go away."
Masaru whispered. His voice was hoarse, as if he'd just swallowed a handful of broken glass.
The demonic entity didn't react. It still hovered there, like a loyal shadow.
"GO AWAY!"
He screamed. The scream tore through his burned throat, echoing into the empty night. This time, the entity seemed to understand. Its massive form began to blur, dissipating like mist, until only Masaru remained, standing alone amidst the desolation.
His legs buckled. His knees touched the freezing snow, but he felt nothing anymore. His entire body was numb from the burns. The smell of charred flesh still lingered in the air.
He crawled toward the ashes.
"Grandma... Grandma..."
Masaru dug through the still-hot embers. Half-burned splinters of wood stabbed into his festering palms, but he didn't care. He dug. And dug. Until his fingers touched something hard and warm.
A fragment of bone.
He didn't know if it was his grandmother's bone. It could have belonged to some animal. But in that moment, he believed it was her. He clutched the bone fragment to his chest, letting the tears stream down his face—a face already disfigured by burns—letting the choked sobs escape from a chest that felt like it was about to burst.
He cried all that night. Sitting amidst the ashes of his home, holding the bone of his only family, under the cold, star-filled sky of Nozawa Onsen.
The next morning, when the first rays of sunlight weakly pierced through the thick fog, Masaru had stopped crying. He stood up, his legs unsteady, but his eyes were dry. He dug a small hole beneath the old cedar tree behind the house—the spot where his grandmother used to sit and bask in the sun—and buried the piece of bone there.
No gravestone. No name. Just a handful of earth, and the snowflakes beginning to fall again.
He stood there in silence for a long while. Then he turned his back and walked away.