Prologue
I wasn't chosen to be the hero.
But while hovering over the ruins of that familiar city — where people once walked, argued, laughed, cried… I understood something.
Sometimes it wasn't about being chosen.
It was about choosing to.
My body, my mind, my soul — all were one. No uncertainty. No noise. Just understanding, as clear as black on white. Not because I was older in age, but because time no longer mattered.
"Who are you?"
A rasping voice came from a humanoid figure in the distance that hung mid-flight. A voice that once filled the sky with confidence; now taken by confusion and frustration — and beneath it the first signs of despair.
"Why isn't your body breaking?" He shouted, his voice hoarse. "How are you still standing?"
I looked at my hands.
The answer was right there. An aura shimmered, engulfing my hands, my body, all at once, a light of a trillion crystals, flowing like liquid in perfect harmony — every color imagined, dense, shifting, and complete.
"Answer me!"
My glowing eyes didn't twitch, nor did my expression scream aggression. The aura engulfing me radiated in serenity as I answered in complete repose.
"I am who I am," my voice calm, not a trace of belligerence, "my body is breaking. But it is not broken."
As the words left my lips, my body moved of its own accord. He didn't have time to process; time itself didn't have time to acknowledge my movement.
I closed the distance between us. My fist struck his face cleanly. His sturdy frame hit the concrete — or what remained of it — like a meteor. The impact sent dust rolling outward in a dense, chaotic cloud, shockwaves radiating from the point of contact. Before it could settle, I was already standing over him, my expression unchanged.
My foot pressed down on his bare chest; gone was his black-and-red suit. His eyes swam with disorientation as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.
"Before I finish this," I said quietly, "I want you to know something."
Dust drifted between us.
"I don't hate you."
As these words left my mouth, his expression twisted into total despair.
"How could I hate," I pressed down harder, leaning closer, "something so weak."
— End of Prologue —
Chapter 001
One-Point Wonder
The finals were up. And as any typical Japanese countryside school, the only sounds in the classrooms were the scribble of pens against exam papers.
If it weren't for the white shirts and black trousers uniforms, no one would say this was a public school. All classes were so focused; everyone knew this was their only shot at getting into a proper high school.
Everyone but one boy. A boy from class C. In the first row by the window. Contrary to the rest, he seemed completely relaxed, hands laced behind his head, seat rocking without a care in the world.
Yugo's desk didn't look messy; in fact, it looked like it hadn't been used before.
The proctor took another lap, completely ignoring Yugo as if his fate was already sealed. The reason was simple: Yugo didn't answer a single question on his exam sheet.
He did try, but the chaos in his head was overwhelming, like it had always been, from kindergarten all the way to the final exams of middle school.
His midnight hair looked especially messy that day, as if he had been running both hands through it in frustration. But no one knew for sure, because his expression seemed happy; he even had a big grin, while his eyes were looking right into oblivion.
He knew the exams were a big deal — his mom had told him plenty of times. But how could he concentrate, especially on that day, when a memory from exactly eight years ago kept his mind drifting — drifting to a time when he was only six years old.
— ✦ —
Yugo was smaller back then, but not much different.
His black eyes reflected a sad, cloudy sky, but Yugo didn't pay much attention to it, because he was with his hero — his father, who had just arrived from a mission, still wearing his military uniform, still with short hair, still with a big grin, just as Yugo always remembered him.
They had made their way to the playground, as they always did — an unspoken rule. And just like any other child there, Yugo was having the time of his life.
"Come on champ." His father held him high on the monkey bars. "Show me what you got." He added as he let him go loose.
"I—I can do this, Dad. I—I am strong." Yugo's voice stammered as he tried not to fall.
"That's my boy!" His dad cheered as he reached for the bars. Yugo's eyes burned with determination.
"Come on, kiddo, make me proud!"
One by one, Yugo made it to the final bar — his arms were tired, but he wouldn't go down without a fight.
The last bar was right in front of him. He stretched his arm as far as he could. Nothing was stopping him now.
"Oh—"
Except gravity.
"Ahhh, Dad!"
Yugo's hand slipped as he tried to reach the last monkey bar. His heart sank immediately, as he squeezed his eyes shut and tensed every muscle, elbows pressed into the sides as he expected a fall — but the fall never came.
He felt an embrace, a familiar one, an embrace that held him many times before. "Here boy. You did good." His father moved with impossible speed, catching Yugo before his body could even move an inch towards the ground.
"Dad!" he screamed, clinging to his father with a voice of relief as tears streamed down his face. His father got down on one knee, resting Yugo on the other, wiping the tears from the boy's eyes.
"Straighten up, little soldier. What do I always tell you?" His voice was calm as he softly smiled at Yugo. Yugo looked up and grinned—a massive, proud grin and with a silly voice answered: "A grin a day keeps sadness away."
"Hahaha, that's right my boy." And as his father settled Yugo down as if on cue, Dad struck the most exaggerated "hero of justice" pose he could manage. "HAHAHA!" His laugh sounded forced, but not to Yugo. Without hesitation, he copied his father's pose.
"HAHAHA!" Both shouted in unison.
Parents and children nearby stopped to stare. Some even stepped away, unsure what to make of it.
Their silliness kept going, but from the edge of the playground, a tall man with a mustache approached slowly, leaning on a walking stick. He didn't look old—no older than Yugo's dad. Beside him walked a girl.
The moment Yugo's father recognized him, he went from "hero of justice" to a rigid, respectful salute.
"Sir."
"As you were! Right now, we're just civilians," the man replied.
This was Captain Borges, his dad's superior, and a long-time friend. Both were power soldiers after all.
But to Yugo, these details didn't really matter. All he could see was his dad saluting another person. And if his dad did a salute, so would he.
And he did, right to the girl in front of him.
"My name is Y-Yugo. I'm six," he said as he hit the most stiff pose; even his voice sounded stiff.
The girl giggled and waved at him as she held her father by the hand.
Yugo peeked at his dad as if asking for approval.
His father gave him a soft smile and said:
"How about you show this good man's daughter that new trick I taught you on the slide?"
She looked to her father, who nodded softly as she let go of his hand.
Yugo radiated with excitement, running to the slide ladder. The girl followed right after. Yugo had just made a new friend, all thanks to his dad's salute technique.
Once both kids made it to the slide, the conversation between the men started immediately.
"Any news on East Africa?" Yugo's dad asked, like there was no time to waste.
"Things aren't looking great." Mr. Borges' voice sounded tired as he added. "Intelligence has a lead — but it won't be easy to reach."
"And the children?" Yugo's dad pressed.
"Ric, I cannot answer that," Borges said, his tone heavy.
"Captain, please. I need to know."
Borges' eyes drifted upward, scanning the clouds that hid most of the sky.
"No aid. No food. They're dying…" His gaze hardened.
Ric didn't answer immediately. He looked at Yugo. Then he looked away at all the parents, children, and everyone at that playground. His gaze traced back to Yugo. Yugo waved at him, and he waved back with a big grin.
Once he looked back at Borges, his demeanor changed, and he said:
"I will do it." His eyes blazed with determination.
"Ric, you just got back. Even as our top power soldier, you should rest like a—"
Before Borges could finish, Ric snapped.
"Sir, please. Sir."
He saluted again, but this time it was different; it wasn't about respect, it was about something else that only a soldier would understand.
Borges studied him for a moment… then he looked back at the sky, the sky looked troubled, but Borges' expression looked worse, tense and heavy, as if his decision was being measured on a scale.
Then he slowly lifted his arm towards his face. A salute, not rigid, forced.
And with that simple act, the deal was sealed.
Across the playground, Yugo slid headfirst down the slide, and as he was about to reach the bottom of the slide, he rolled on his back and stood up.
The little girl was immediately amazed; she had never seen such a trick before.
As Yugo stood up, he looked right back at his dad, his eyes widened. Joy bubbled up in his chest. His dad and the other man did a salute; this meant his dad had just made a new friend, or at least that's what he could make of what he just witnessed.
Then—
One drop.
Another.
Another.
The rain began to fall.
"Yugo, come on, kiddo! Let's run for it!" Yugo sprinted to his dad, waving at the little girl.
Mr. Borges opened an umbrella, and his daughter ran to him. As she saw Yugo waving, she waved back at him.
And like any other kid, Yugo wasn't happy about going away so soon, so he gave a massive grin to the little girl as he reached his dad.
Her mustard-colored eyes sparkled. She reached for her dad as she tried to mimic Yugo's grin.
As both kids exchanged a big grin, the rain got heavier, and before Yugo got wet, his father scooped him up, wrapping him safely inside his jacket.
"Your mom would kill me if you caught a cold on my first day back." His father said as he started running.
"Maybe I should've brought an umbrella. What do you say, champ?"
"It's okay Dad," Yugo said as he clung to his father's chest, "I don't mind."
Yugo closed his eyes…
Then—
Kin kon kan kon — the school chime rang through the corridors as Yugo snapped back to reality.
"Time's up. Hand in your exams."
— End of Chapter 1 —