There was a moment of absolute silence.
Shotaro, arms crossed like a tiny warlord, had spoken his decree:
"Now you have to change your ways."
Rin, the iron-fisted Queen of Mushashinoyamato's pleasure empire, a woman feared by both men and women alike, stood there, arms crossed, staring him down.
The women around her—the ones she had ruled with an iron grip, the ones who had lived under her whims—waited. Terrified. Expectant.
Then, finally, Rin took a deep breath.
She closed her eyes.
And then she just said:
"OK."
.
.
.
.
.
.
"HUUUUUUUHHHHH??!!!"
The collective scream of over a hundred prostitutes, courtesans, and workers of the pleasure district shook the goddamn foundations of the estate.
Plates shattered. Bowls of soup flew out of people's hands. Someone dropped their cigarette into their cleavage and screamed. Two girls fainted on the spot.
The women were losing their minds.
"Wait. WAIT. WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT," one woman—Mari—grabbed onto her head like she was about to have a brain aneurysm. "Did I hear that right?"
"Did the boss just—"
"—Say she's gonna—"
"—CHANGE?!"
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU AND WHAT DID YOU DO TO AKAGITSUNE RIN?!"
Another woman shook Rin by the shoulders, voice cracking. "Boss. Boss. Blink twice if you're being held hostage."
"I'm not."
"BLINK TWICE IF THE BRAT SECRETLY TOOK CONTROL OF YOUR EMPIRE."
"...Do I look like I'm being controlled?"
"YES???"
"You look violated by the concept of human decency." Another girl whispered in horror.
Shotaro just stood there, nodding wisely like some five-year-old prophet.
"Mhm," he said. "Good. That was easier than I expected."
"EASIER THAN YOU EXPECTED?!" The girls screamed at him.
"She just threw away years of being an evil overlord like it was a crumpled receipt!" Mari pointed an accusing finger at Rin. "Boss, you built this entire red-light empire from the ground up! You made it into a well-oiled machine of financial dominance and sex work efficiency! You can't just—just—turn into a good person!"
"Yeah!" Another girl piped up. "You once banned vacations because you said 'human exhaustion is just a suggestion'!"
"You literally told us 'crying is for the weak' last week!"
"You KICKED a client once!"
"He tried to pay with monopoly money!"
"WHO CARES?!"
Rin massaged her temples as the entire red-light districtdescended into chaos.
Then, suddenly—
BANG!
She slammed her foot onto the ground, cracking the wooden floor beneath her.
Silence.
All the women immediately shut the fuck up.
She exhaled. Long. Tired.
Then, she crossed her arms.
"Listen up, you overworked, underpaid, sexually exhausted banshees," she began, voice calm yet sharp as a blade.
They straightened up instinctively.
"Yeah. I'm changing." She looked them all in the eye. "No more forced contracts. No more blackmailing clients. No more 'mysterious disappearances' if a girl tries to quit. If you wanna leave, you leave. If you wanna work, you work. And from now on—"
She narrowed her eyes.
"You all get fucking dental."
A stunned silence.
Then, from the back of the room—
"Wait—WE GET DENTAL?!"
Another woman choked on her soup.
Shotaro nodded approvingly. "Yeah. Good call."
Rin sighed. "Might as well, right? Gotta keep the workforce healthy if I'm going legit."
One girl raised her hand hesitantly. "Uh, b-boss, ma'am, queen of all evil, does that mean we're gonna get…raises?"
Rin clicked her tongue. "Tch. Yeah, yeah. You'll get raises. What, you thought I'd be a cheap bastard just because I'm not running a crime den anymore?"
Another hand shot up.
"Paid time off?"
Rin narrowed her eyes.
Then, with all the grace of a benevolent dictator, she slowly exhaled—
And nodded.
"…Yeah. Fine. Paid time off."
There was a loud THUD as one of the women just collapsed on the floor.
"SOMEONE CHECK ON YUKARI," Mari shrieked.
"She's fine, she just—holy shit, she actually passed out."
Shotaro tilted his head. "…Did she never get a day off before?"
"BRAT, WE DIDN'T EVEN GET BREAKS."
He blinked. "Oh."
Silence.
Then:
"So… uh, boss." One of the women cleared her throat. "Does this mean no more keeping girls in debt traps?"
"Correct."
"No more charging us for uniforms and makeup at five times the normal price?"
"Correct."
"NO MORE PAYING US IN CRYPTOCURRENCY?"
"OKAY, WHEN DID I DO THAT?"
There was a pause.
Then, the entire room turned and stared at her.
Rin frowned.
"What? Seriously. When?"
"Boss."
Mari stepped forward, voice deadpan.
"Last Wednesday."
Silence.
Rin stared.
Then, with all the grace and dignity of a scandal-plagued CEO, she cleared her throat—
And said:
"That was in my villain era."
The entire red-light district collectively lost their shit.
Shotaro just nodded like a wise old sage. "Growth."
"I AM GOING TO SCREAM."
Another girl wiped a tear from her eye. "T-This is… so fucking weird. I don't know how to process this."
"Don't worry," Shotaro assured. "We'll have a company retreat to work through it."
"WE HAVE COMPANY RETREATS NOW?!"
"Yep!" Shotaro grinned. "Also, we'll be hiring HR!"
Rin jerked her head towards him.
"Wait. We need HR?"
The room descended into dead silence.
All of the women stared at her.
Like she had just asked whether the sky was blue.
Shotaro just sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, we do."
Rin blinked.
Then she sighed, rubbing her temples. "Fine. We'll get HR. We'll do team-building exercises. We'll have goddamn mental health check-ins."
Mari wiped a tear from her eye.
"Boss… are you okay?"
"No," Rin muttered. "I feel like I'm being scammed."
The women just hugged her.
Shotaro, arms still crossed, grinned.
"Good job, Mom."
Rin's soulleft her body.
"WH—DON'T CALL ME THAT, YOU LITTLE SHIT."
"Ok, ms. Sae"
The title had already stuck.
Rin crossed her arms, her expression dead serious as she scanned the faces of the women before her. "Alright, listen up. No one—and I mean no one—is to speak a word about who this kid really is."
Mari, already exhausted from the absurdity of the morning, frowned. "Uh, why?"
Rin exhaled through her nose. "Because, as far as the world knows, the Messiah—born on the night of January 30, 2008, out of a virgin, when the entire damn solar system aligned in a perfect straight line—died in the Hokkaido incident."
The room went silent.
"Huh?" one of the girls muttered.
"The Messiah?" another choked out.
"Died!?" Mari repeated, eyes twitching.
Shotaro, casually sipping on a cup of miso soup, looked up. "Yep. That's me."
Rin glared at him. "Not helping, brat."
Mari threw her hands in the air. "Okay, wait, back the hell up. You're telling me this five-year-old gremlin is the Messiah!?"
"Allegedly," Rin grumbled.
Shotaro raised a finger. "Technically, yeah. But also technically, I'm dead, so, you know—"
"YOU ARE LITERALLY RIGHT HERE," Mari shrieked.
"That's why you all need to shut up about it," Rin snapped. "If word gets out that Shotaro Mugiwara is still breathing, we'll have every lunatic cult, government agency, and doomsday prophet crawling up our asses before lunchtime."
The girls all stared at Shotaro, then at Rin, then back at Shotaro—who just slurped his soup like none of this concerned him.
"So, just to clarify," Mari muttered. "The world thinks Jesus 2.0 died in a fiery explosion, and we're now harboring him in a goddamn red-light district?"
"That about sums it up," Rin replied.
"I need to lie down."
she was, arms crossed, watching this pint-sized force of nature casually distribute food like he wasn't the single most world-shattering anomaly currently breathing. And yet, despite everything—the miracles, the cosmic birth, the stupidly overpowered abilities—he was still just a kid. A five-year-old who had, mere hours ago, watched his entire life burn in front of him.
Rin sighed, rubbing her temples as she looked at the assembled crowd of women—her employees, her victims, her... newly reformed workforce. She had made a decision.
A very, very convenient decision.
She clapped her hands once, grabbing everyone's attention.
"Alright, listen up!" she barked. "Since I am an incredibly busy woman, dealing with meetings, financial reports, supply chain logistics, and occasional assassinations—"
"Wait, what was that last one?" Mari cut in.
"—AND occasional brunches," Rin continued without missing a beat, "I hereby place the responsibility of keeping an eye on Shotaro on you all."
A horrified silence fell over the room.
Then—
"…HUHHH?!"
"Hold on, hold on," Mari immediately protested, stepping forward with her hands raised. "Boss, you mean to tell us that you are offloading the responsibility of watching this absurd, possibly radioactive, overpowered five-year-old onto us?!"
Rin took a long, suffering sip of her sake before responding.
"Yes."
"WHY?!"
Rin sighed and gestured vaguely at the gathering of women.
"Because most of you are mothers. Or sisters. Or aunts. Or some form of 'caregiver to a baby.'" She waved a dismissive hand. "One of the main reasons you all work here is because you have a kid to support."
"Yeah, but not a kid that can obliterate cities!"
"Or fly!"
"Or time punch!"
"Or apparently lift mountains with his pinky finger!"
"YEAH, WELL, HE DOESN'T NEED DIAPERS, DOES HE?" Rin snapped back.
Silence.
Shotaro, meanwhile, was just chilling in the background, sipping his soup, looking as innocent as possible.
One of the girls, Yukari, squinted at him. "…Does he?"
"I DO NOT," Shotaro immediately confirmed.
Rin threw up her arms. "See? He's already easier to take care of than an actual baby."
Mari looked increasingly distressed. "That's not the point!"
Rin ignored her. "Plus, he's super strong, which means you don't have to worry about him getting hurt. You could literally drop-kick him into the next prefecture, and he'd probably just walk right back."
Shotaro, nodding proudly, added, "I would, actually."
Another woman, Ayame, cautiously raised a hand.
"…But what if we tell him no, and he throws us into the sun?"
Shotaro frowned. "I wouldn't do that. Probably."
"PROBABLY?!?!"
Rin clapped her hands again, dismissing all their concerns instantly.
"Listen, you'll all be fine. I have full confidence that a group of grown women can handle one small, superpowered child."
"FULL confidence?"
"At least 70%."
"YOU BITCH."
Shotaro slurped his soup again, unfazed.
Then, after a brief pause, he casually added, "Also, I don't sleep."
Everyone froze.
Rin blinked. "You... don't?"
"Yeah," Shotaro said. "I just kinda sit there. Awake. For the full twenty-four hours. Watching."
A collective shiver ran through the room.
Ayame, visibly horrified, whispered, "He's like a cursed doll."
Rin sighed. "Alright, fine. I'll put in some hazard pay."
A pause.
Then—
Mari crossed her arms. "…How much?"
"…Five times your salary."
The entire room erupted into absolute chaos.
"I CALL DIBS!"
"NO, I DO!"
"BACK OFF, BITCH, I NEED THIS!"
"THAT KID IS MINE!"
Mari, dodging a flying elbow to the face, turned to Rin and glared.
"This is literally human trafficking."
Rin took another sip of sake.
"You should've negotiated faster."
The entire red-light district was already struggling to process the massive rebranding Rin had just dropped on them, but this conversation was about to take things to an entirely new level of batshit insanity.
Mari, still struggling to believe that their former dictator of a boss had turned into a functioning human being, pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.
"OK. But who is HR here?" she asked.
There was a beat of silence.
Then, without hesitation, Shotaro puffed out his tiny chest, pointed his own thumb at himself, and declared:
"I AM."
Mari squinted at him. "...You?"
"Yep." Shotaro nodded confidently.
A silence stretched between them.
Then, Mari rubbed her temples harder.
"Do you… do you even know what HR stands for?"
Shotaro didn't even hesitate. "Human Resources."
Mari stared at him.
The other girls stared at him.
Rin was just standing in the background, drinking sake straight from the bottle.
Finally, after a long pause, Mari blinked rapidly and asked, "How the fuck did you even know tha—"
And then—
Shotaro casually dropped the biggest bombshell of the night.
"Oh," he said, in the most offhanded tone imaginable, "My dad, who probably thinks I'm dead, owns the biggest zaibatsu in the world. I'm a trillionaire."
Silence.
A thick, soul-crushing silence.
Shotaro went back to eating his soup, completely unbothered.
Mari, meanwhile, was malfunctioning.
Her mouth opened. Then it closed. Then it opened again.
Her hands shook.
Her knees buckled.
And then, finally, she exhaled sharply—
And said, "…Actually, at this point, I think I'm just gonna kill myself."
Rin, mid-sip of sake, snorted it out of her nose.
"WHAT THE FUCK, MARI?!"
"I CAN'T HANDLE THIS, OKAY?!" Mari threw her hands up. "I JUST got hit with the fact that our evil, borderline-sociopathic overlord of a boss is suddenly rebranding into a moral businesswoman, and now I find out that this five-year-old little shit is a casual trillionaire who just dropped in from the sky like it was fucking nothing?!"
The room had already been through multiple shockwaves of insanity, but somehow, someway, the most batshit thing of the night was still yet to be said.
Because just as Rin was about to lay down more ground rules for her newly moral empire, one of the girls—Yukari, a long-time worker in the district—raised her hand with a completely dead serious look on her face.
"Boss, can we marry him?"
The room fell dead silent.
Rin froze.
Shotaro blinked. "Huh?"
Mari coughed violently on her soup. Another girl spit out her tea. Someone else outright dropped their bowl, the ceramic shattering across the tatami mat.
It was Rin who finally reacted first—by snapping her entire head toward Yukari so fast she almost got whiplash.
"HE'S FIVE, YUKARI."
"YEAH, WELL, I CAN WAIT!"
"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, YUKARI."
Rin could feel the migraine forming. She pressed two fingers against her temples, trying to stop her brain from leaking out of her skull.
Meanwhile, Shotaro just sat there, looking between them, completely unbothered by the absolute lunacy happening in front of him. "Wait, so does that mean no?"
Rin turned back at him, her eye twitching. "OF COURSE, THAT MEANS NO, BRAT."
She looked back at the girls, hands on her hips. "Listen up, you thirsty-ass degenerates—HELL NAH, no one's marrying the boy."
The women groaned in disappointment. One of them even muttered, "Damn, cockblocked by morality..."
"What the fuck is wrong with you people?!" Rin barked.
Mari sighed, rubbing her temples. "Look, boss, I get it, but…he's rich, polite, kind, can cook, is basically Jesus—"
Shotaro cut in, "Technically Jesus."
"—AND he's got a whole ass Superman power set?!?!" Mari continued. "Like, come on, that's a dream man right there. That's husband material peak fiction—"
"HE'S FIVE," Rin repeated like she was losing her mind.
Yukari crossed her arms, pouting. "Yeah, but he won't always be five."
"NO, YUKARI."
"Boss, think about it," another girl chimed in, "if we marry him now, we get a trillionaire husband in the future. That's generational wealth."
"GET A REAL JOB."
Shotaro, meanwhile, was just munching on a piece of toast, completely unfazed. "I mean, I do have a lot of money. And superpowers. And a magic sword."
One of the girls swooned. "And he's humble too…"
Rin snapped. "OKAY, EVERYBODY OUT! BREAKFAST IS OVER! GET TO WORK, YOU DESPERATE MOTHERFUCKERS!"
There was a loud, collective groan as the women stood up, muttering complaints about their ruined marriage prospects.
As the room slowly emptied out, Rin slumped into a chair, rubbing her face.
Shotaro hopped onto the chair across from her, still chewing his toast. "So, uh… do I need to get a restraining order?"
Rin just groaned, slamming her forehead against the table. "I fucking hate my life."
After 3 days of her bringing Shotaro home.
Rin crossed her arms, watching Shotaro practice his insane superhuman abilities. He was currently punching the air so hard that shockwaves were knocking over furniture.
"Hey," she called out.
Shotaro stopped mid-punch, floating in the air, tilting his head. "Yeah?"
Rin cleared her throat. "Uh… don't break shit. That's bad."
Shotaro blinked. "Okay."
She nodded. Yeah. Nailed it.
Then, seconds later—
BOOOOM.
The entire back wall of the building exploded as Shotaro accidentally clapped his hands too hard.
A long, awkward silence followed.
Shotaro, still hovering mid-air: "…My bad."
Rin: Deep inhale. Deep exhale
Rin crossed her arms, watching Shotaro practice his insane superhuman abilities. He was currently punching the air so hard that shockwaves were knocking over furniture.
"Hey," she called out.
Shotaro stopped mid-punch, floating in the air, tilting his head. "Yeah?"
Rin cleared her throat. "Uh… don't break shit. That's bad."
Shotaro blinked. "Okay."
She nodded. Yeah. Nailed it.
Then, seconds later—
BOOOOM.
The entire back wall of the building exploded as Shotaro accidentally clapped his hands too hard.
A long, awkward silence followed.
Shotaro, still hovering mid-air: "…My bad."
Rin: Deep inhale. Deep exhale.
cooking for the kid
"Alright, brat, you always cook for us, so today I'm cooking for you," Rin declared.
Shotaro, sitting at the table, blinked. "Oh? What're you making?"
Rin smirked. "Spaghetti. Classic."
Thirty minutes later…
The kitchen looked like a war zone. There was flour on the ceiling. The pot was on fire. And somehow, inexplicably, a whole-ass chicken was stuck to the window.
Rin stood there, hands on her hips, looking dead serious as she presented the final dish:
A plate of spaghetti so overcooked it looked like a single, solidified mass.
Shotaro poked it. It didn't move.
"…You put respectable effort into this," he said carefully.
"You're damn right I did."
Another long silence.
Then, Shotaro casually picked up the whole spaghetti block and took a bite like it was a sandwich.
"…It's crunchy," he admitted.
Rin nodded proudly. "Yeah. That's my secret technique."
Rin Akagitsune sat in her office, legs crossed, a glass of sake in hand, and a scowl carved deep into her face. Outside, the red-light district of Musashinoyamato thrived under her rule—her little kingdom of pleasure and vice. Yet here she was, staring down at the tiny, silver-haired menace now permanently lodged in her life.
Shotaro Mugiwara.
The supposed dead messiah. The cosmic miracle. The five-year-old with superhuman strength, laser eyes, and an attitude problem.
Her son.
Wait—no. Not her son. What the hell was she even thinking?
She slammed her drink down, rubbing her temples. She was not his mother. She ran an empire of sin, not a goddamn daycare. She was a woman of power, feared and respected. She had people groveling at her feet, hanging onto her every command.
And yet, she had spent the past two hours arguing with a literal child about why he couldn't sleep outside on the roof because, and she quotes,
"I like feeling the breeze; it reminds me of the beach where you found me."
What kind of poetic nonsense was that?
And now, because she made the mistake of telling the girls in the district to "help keep an eye on him," they had all immediately taken that as permission to actually raise him.
The brothel was no longer a brothel—it was a chaotic mess of women fussing over him like he was the second coming of their long-lost children.
"Boss, he needs a balanced diet!"
"Boss, are you making sure he sleeps properly?"
"Boss, why is he walking around with a sword bigger than himself??"
"Boss, can we marry him?"
"HE'S FIVE, YUKARI."
"YEAH, WELL, I CAN WAIT!"
"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, YUKARI."
Rin groaned, sinking further into her chair.
This was not how her life was supposed to go.
She wasn't supposed to be worrying about whether a kid was eating enough greens. She wasn't supposed to be scolding him for suplexing grown men into the pavement because they looked at him funny. She wasn't supposed to be lying awake at night, wondering if this was what Ikemoto meant—if this was the path that could save her.
And yet, every time she saw Shotaro, she couldn't help but feel something stir in her chest. Guilt? Responsibility? Maybe something even worse?
She didn't know.
But for now, one thing was clear.
"Shotaro, get down from the ceiling!"
"I can stick to walls! Like a gecko!"
"YOU ARE NOT A FUCKING GECKO!"
Yeah. This was her life now.
And she had no one to blame but herself.
Rin Akagitsune had spent years convincing herself she was beyond saving. That there was nothing left in her to redeem. That the day she lost her family was the day she stopped being human.
And for the longest time, that belief had been her greatest weapon.
When the world took everything from her—her husband, her unborn child, her future—she made sure to take something back. Power, wealth, control. She built an empire from the ruins of her grief, carved her way into the underbelly of the world until she stood above it all. A queen of vice.
Because if she wasn't going to be a mother, if she wasn't going to be a wife, if she had nothing left to love—then she would at least make sure no one could ever hurt her again.
And for years, it worked.
But then he came.
A half-dead boy, washed up on the shores of her world. A child born from miracles, carrying the weight of a fate greater than any human should bear. A boy with eyes too old for his age, who spoke of saving the world as if it was a task as simple as breathing.
Shotaro Mugiwara.
The messiah who should have died in the Hokkaido incident. The child who, by all logic, should not even exist anymore.
Yet, here he was. Standing in her home. Eating her food. Arguing with her people.
And worst of all—looking at her like she was someone worth staying with.
She should have left him on that beach. Should have handed him off to some government agency and washed her hands of him. Should have kept her distance, ignored the strange warmth she felt every time she looked at him.
But she didn't.
She let him stay. She let him talk. She let him change things.
And now, she sat in her office, listening to the distant sounds of the women she once ruled with an iron fist—laughing, laughing, as they fed him, argued with him, treated him like one of their own.
Like a little brother. Like a nephew. Like a son.
Her fingers clenched into her sleeves.
She was supposed to be above all this. She had let go of family, let go of love, let go of everything that made a person soft.
She had already buried one child.
And yet…
"Hey, Kid… Are you okay?"
Shotaro barely looked up from his food. "Huh?"
"It's only been some weeks since the Hokkaido incident. Since your mother… Since everything. And yet, you don't look as bad as when I first brought you in."
Shotaro paused. Then, just as casually, as if discussing the weather, he said:
"I'm not okay. I don't suppose I'll ever be okay."
Rin's breath caught.
"I will always be traumatized. Hell, if anything, I feel like dying inside," he continued, "but my mother told me to save everyone before she died. So I'm focusing on the 'saving everyone' part more than the 'watching her get blown up by an RPG' part."
He swallowed a bite of his food.
"It's my whole fate. A burden that I must save everyone. So I will. Not as the Messiah. But as Shotaro Mugiwara."
He leaned back, looking up at the ceiling.
"In the following years, everyone will remember the Messiah, but not by his name. So I guess I'm free to do stuff outside of the world's eyes."
Rin stared at him, feeling something in her break.
This child—this impossible child—was the same as her.
A soul torn apart by fate. A life stolen before it could truly begin.
But unlike her, he chose to keep moving forward.
And it wasn't just himself he wanted to save.
He wanted to save her.
She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling deeply.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
She wasn't supposed to care.
She wasn't supposed to feel this fear—this terror—at the thought of losing something precious again.
But here she was.
And the words left her lips before she could stop them.
"Okay, then. I will save you."
Shotaro blinked. "Huh?"
She turned to face the women, the ones who had long since given up expecting kindness from her.
"Starting today, I will save you."
Silence.
Then—
"HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH?!"
The red-light district had never been louder.
And for the first time in years, Rin Akagitsune wasn't sure whether she was the one in control anymore.
But maybe… just maybe…
That wasn't such a bad thing.
The red-light district had never been this lively.
The red-light district had never been this alive.
Laughter echoed through the streets, the scent of freshly cooked food hung in the air, and for once, the women she had once ruled through fear were genuinely smiling. All because of him.
Shotaro Mugiwara.
The little demon—no, the little idiot—who had somehow marched into her life, demanded change, and won.
Rin stood on the balcony of her office, staring down at the scene below with an unreadable expression. The cigarette between her fingers burned slowly, the ember glowing in the dim light.
How had it come to this?
She had spent years building her empire, clawing her way to the top, making herself untouchable. She had ruled this district with an iron fist, no one daring to defy her.
And now?
Now she had a five-year-old HR manager dictating new policies and reforming her workforce like some corporate executive.
"Boss, can we marry him?"
Rin almost choked on her smoke. "HE'S FIVE, YUKARI."
"YEAH, WELL, I CAN WAIT!"
"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, YUKARI!"
Shotaro, sitting among the women like he was holding a board meeting, just rubbed his temples. "I have enough problems already, can you not?"
Laughter erupted.
Rin smirked, shaking her head.
And then—
Her phone rang.
She frowned, pulling it out of her pocket. The number was unknown, but she recognized it immediately.
A number she wished she had forgotten.
The cigarette slipped from her fingers.
Her stomach twisted.
Still, she answered.
"Akagitsune speaking."
A smooth, venomous voice greeted her.
"Oh my, Rin. It's been such a long time."
Rin's grip on the phone tightened.
Her breath slowed.
Her entire body went cold.
"Kirika."
A chuckle. "Oh? So you do still remember me? I was worried you had forgotten your dear sister-in-law after all these years."
Rin's jaw clenched.
Memories she had long buried surfaced in an instant.
The hospital. The phone call.
Her husband, Ikemoto, rushing out the door, promising he'd be back.
The gunshots.
The news report.
The moment she had realized that she had lost everything—her husband, her unborn child, her entire world—all because of the woman on the other end of the phone.
Kirika.
The woman who had her own brother assassinated over a gold mine in South Africa.
The woman who was the reason Rin had become the monster she was today.
Rin inhaled sharply. "What do you want?"
Kirika's voice remained sickly sweet.
"Oh, nothing much, really. I just wanted to give you a little warning before you find out the hard way."
Rin's fingers twitched. "Warning?"
"I'm coming, dear sister. Tomorrow morning."
A pause.
Then—
"I'm taking your district."
Rin's eyes narrowed.
"The fuck did you just say?"
Kirika sighed dramatically. "Oh, come now, Rin. Surely you didn't think you could keep that little empire of yours forever, did you?"
Rin's expression darkened.
She had been expecting this. She knew Kirika would come for her one day.
But now?
Now, of all times?
Just when she was starting to change? Just when she had finally started feeling human again?
Rin gritted her teeth. "You think you can just waltz in here and take what's mine?"
Kirika laughed. "Oh, Rin. Isn't it my habbit of take what yours."
Rin's grip on the phone nearly shattered it.
Her family had built this district from the ground up. they had bled for it, suffered for it.
And now this bitch thought she could take it away?
No.
No, she wouldn't let her.
Not again.
Not ever.
Rin took a deep breath, forcing her voice to stay steady. "Come try, Kirika."
Kirika's chuckle was soft but full of malice. "Oh, I will. And when I do, Rin... you'll be begging for mercy."
Rin lowered the phone slowly.
She stared ahead, unblinking, her mind racing.
Tomorrow morning.
War was coming.
And she would be ready.
Rin stood frozen, phone still in her grip, as Kirika's voice echoed in her ears.
Tomorrow morning.
That bitch was coming to take her district.
Her heart pounded in fury, fingers gripping the phone so tight she thought it might crack. But before she could even think of what to say, she felt something tug at her sleeve.
She turned her head.
Shotaro Mugiwara stood beside her, arms crossed, staring up at her with that unsettlingly calm expression of his.
"Give me the phone."
Rin blinked. "What?"
"Give. Me. The phone, Ms. Rin."
She frowned. "Brat, this isn't your—"
"I heard everything."
Rin hated how good his hearing was.
"Fine." She sighed, shoving the phone into his small hand. "Do whatever you want."
Shotaro nodded, then, without hesitation—
He pressed redial.
Rin's eyes widened. "Wait—"
The phone rang. Once. Twice.
Then—
"My, my, what a surprise. Are you already surrendering, dear—"
"Yo, old hag. I heard you're coming to this house tomorrow."
Rin choked.
Kirika went silent.
A full three seconds passed before—
"...Excuse me?"
Shotaro yawned into the receiver. "Damn, you're hard of hearing too? Must suck being old."
Rin physically winced.
"Who the hell is this?" Kirika's voice had dropped to a dangerous tone.
Shotaro smiled. "Mugiwara Shotaro. Maybe you've heard of me? Messiah? Born out of a virgin? Solar system alignment? Thought I was dead? Ringing any bells?"
Silence.
Then—
"That's impossible."
Shotaro rolled his eyes. "Lady, I literally watched my mom explode some days ago. I am not in the mood to be gaslit about my own existence."
Kirika scoffed. "Tch. Whatever game you're playing, it won't work on me."
Shotaro tilted his head. "Oh? No games here, Auntie Kirika."
Rin slapped her forehead.
This fucking child.
Kirika's breathing sharpened. "Call me that again, and I will personally—"
"Auntie Kirika, I have a question." Shotaro cut her off.
Another pause.
"What?"
"Would you like to be thrown into the atmoshephre, or should I be creative about it?"
Rin almost dropped dead on the spot.
Kirika's silence was deadly.
Then, in a voice colder than ice—
"Is that a threat, you little—"
"Oh, no, no, no. That was just the warm-up. The actual threat is that if you set foot in Ms. Rin's district tomorrow, I will personally launch you into the fucking sun."
Rin wheezed.
Mari collapsed.
Yukari looked like she had seen God.
Shotaro continued, completely unfazed. "I mean, I've never done it before, but physics is kinda just a suggestion for me, so I could probably make it work."
Kirika exhaled sharply. "You insolent little—"
"Also, just a heads-up, Ms. Rin owns a red-light district, not an assassination ring. So you pulling up with your dollar store mercenaries thinking this is some Yakuza movie? Kinda cringe."
Rin actually felt her soul leave her body.
"You—"
"Oh, and another thing!" Shotaro interrupted. "You do know the Messiah is supposed to be a 'bringer of peace,' right? So, technically, if I decide your existence is a problem, getting rid of you is just me doing my holy duty."
"Y-You little—!"
"Damn, you're really still talking? I thought old people had earlier bedtimes."
Kirika snapped.
"YOU LITTLE SHIT—"
Shotaro just yawned. "Blah, blah, blah. Look, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have a bedtime. If you're end still alive tomorrow, we'll talk then."
Then—
He hung up on her.
Silence.
Pure, suffocating silence.
Shotaro handed the phone back to Rin. "There. That should keep her up at night."
Rin stared at him.
Mari, clutching her chest: "Ms. Rin, we are never pissing off the kid."
Yukari, looking existential: "The 5 year old just verbally bullied a criminal."
One of the girls whispered, "I think I just saw God."
Rin just groaned, massaging her temples.
She was so tired.
Rin took a deep breath.
Then another.
Then one more, because what the fuck just happened.
Finally, she snapped her head toward Shotaro, eyes burning with rage, hands on her hips.
"BOY."
Shotaro blinked up at her. "Yeah?"
"WHAT. THE. FUCK. WAS THAT?!"
"A conversation?"
"A CONVER— BOY, YOU JUST DECLARED WAR ON A CRIMINAL!*"
"Technically," Shotaro corrected, "she declared war first. I just told her she sucks at it."
"Oh my fucking GOD." Rin rubbed her face, trying to physically scrub the stress out of her skull. "You cannot just threaten to launch people into the sun, Shotaro!"
"Why not?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"Because normal people—" she pointed at herself, "—do not have the ability to do that!"
"Well, yeah, you don't," he shrugged. "But I might. So it's not really a threat, it's more of a—"
"DO NOT SAY 'PROMISE.'"
"…Statement of intent?"
"BOY—"
"Ms. Rin, you're overreacting."
"OVER—" She nearly threw a chair. "YOU CALLED HER A Snake clitoris!"
"Well, she is," he replied casually. "Did you hear how she was talking? All that 'you insolent little—' like, lady, this is real life, not a shounen anime."
"YOU CALLED HER OLD—"
"She is old!"
"YOU SAID SHE HAD A BEDTIME—"
"She should have a bedtime, honestly, past a certain age, you should not be awake causing problems—"
"SHOTARO, SHE'S GOING TO FUCKING KILL US!"
"She's going to try to, Ms. Rin. Key word: try."
Rin threw her hands in the air. "This kid is going to be the death of me."
"No, I'm trying to save you," Shotaro reminded her. "Remember?"
Rin dragged a hand down her face. "I don't need saving, I need a fucking drink."
"Alcohol is bad for you," Shotaro said wisely.
"Boy, you just THREATENED TO END A WOMAN'S BLOODLINE, do NOT talk to me about healthy life choices!"
"I did not threaten to end her bloodline," he corrected. "I threatened to sun yeet her. Very different things."
"YOU BASICALLY TOLD HER TO SUCK A COCK!"
"And?"
"AND???!"
"Ms. Rin, let's be honest," he said, crossing his arms. "Are you really mad about what I said? Or are you mad that it was funny as hell and you don't wanna admit it?"
Rin gasped.
"BOY, I SWEAR TO GOD—"
"You can swear to me instead," Shotaro grinned.
"I'M GOING TO THROW YOU INTO TRAFFIC."
"Joke's on you, I can fly."
Rin screamed into her hands.
The girls, who had been dying in the background, were now on the floor, absolutely wheezing.
"I can't, I actually can't—" Yukari clutched her stomach.
"He called her a 'old ass' to her face—" Mari was in tears.
"Ms. Rin, I think we should just let him run the district," one of the girls choked out. "He's clearly more powerful than all of us combined."
Rin sat down.
The sun had barely crawled above the horizon when the sound of a hundred engines rumbled through the district. The air was thick with tension, the streets eerily empty—except for one spot.
Right in the middle of the district, standing outside the biggest, baddest pleasure house in the entire city, was Rin Akagitsune, arms crossed, her expensive coat barely hanging onto her shoulders. The girls stood behind her, some of them holding knives, some holding guns, some holding frying pans, because fuck you, that's a weapon too.
And in the very center, standing with his tiny-ass arms folded, was Shotaro 'I Declare War Casually' Mugiwara.
Rin glanced at the boy. "You sure you wanna be here, kid?"
"Ms. Rin," Shotaro replied seriously, "this is my district too now."
"IT IS NOT—"
Before Rin could even finish that sentence, the convoy skidded to a stop in front of them. Black SUVs, tinted windows, expensive as hell—Kirika had pulled up like a whole-ass mafia boss.
The moment Kirika stepped out of her SUV, Shotaro took one long look at her—head to toe—before bursting out laughing.
Like, actual, full-blown, arms-crossed, head-thrown-back, loud-ass laughing.
Kirika narrowed her eyes. "What."
"Oh nothing," Shotaro smirked, wiping a nonexistent tear from his eye. "I just didn't know you were auditioning for the role of 'Discount Anime Villain #7' today."*
Kirika's eyebrow twitched. "Excuse me?"
"Like, let's just analyze this real quick," Shotaro continued, stepping forward with his arms spread. "You pulled up here dressed like a third-rate Yakuza boss—"
"I AM A—"
"—rocking the all-black 'murder CEO' look like you just found out about color last week."
The girls snorted. Rin bit her lip.
"The long-ass trench coat? Trying too hard."
"The sunglasses before sunrise? Desperate."
"The slicked-back hair? Mid."
Kirika's eye twitched. "I will murder you, child—"
"And then we get to the face," Shotaro interrupted. "OHHH BOY, LET'S TALK ABOUT THAT."
The girls gasped.
Kirika froze.
"Ayo, did you just—" one of Kirika's men started.
"SHUT UP, KAZUO—"
"No, really, let's discuss," Shotaro grinned, clearly having the time of his life. "Your bone structure is tight, I'll give you that, but your eyebrows? Thin as hell. Did you use a razor or did your bad karma just start erasing them for you?"
"YOU—"
"And your lips? Girl, you got no lips," Shotaro continued mercilessly. "All that money and you couldn't afford a little chapstick? That's crazy. I bet you kiss people and it feel like rubbing paper on their face—"
"I WILL SLAUGHTER YOU—"
"And your skin tone, whew—" Shotaro squinted dramatically. "Sis, you look like a cigarette stain. Like someone took a perfectly fine tan and dipped it in 'Disappointment Brown.' That's wild."
The girls collapsed.
Kirika's face started turning red.
"And OH—" Shotaro gasped, pointing. "THAT NOSE. OHHH THAT NOSE—"
Kirika reached for her gun.
"MA'AM, HE'LL FLIP ANOTHER CAR—"
"I DON'T CARE—"
Kirika, still dusting herself off from the mess she just walked into, snapped her head toward Rin, her voice dripping with irritation. "Rin, who the f**k is this brat?"
She expected an immediate answer. Maybe an explanation. Maybe an apology.
She got nothing.
Rin just stared at her.
Not the blank kind of stare. Not the distracted kind, either. But that quiet, focused, dangerous stare—the kind that knows everything about you, all your sins, all your crimes, and isn't even impressed.
Sheer contempt.
For the woman who took everything from her.
For the woman who threw her into darkness.
For the woman who had her own brother—Rin's husband—gunned down in his car, on his way to her delivery room.
The same day Rin lost her unborn child.
The same day she lost everything.
And now Kirika had the audacity to stand here, looking at her like she was the one being inconvenienced?
Rin inhaled slowly.
This woman, who ruined her entire life, had the absolute gall to demand an answer like she was some disrespected school principal?
Hilarious.
But, finally, Rin spoke.
And she said:
"First of all, Kirika, fix your face before you talk to me."
Kirika blinked. "What?"
"You heard me," Rin snapped, arms crossed. "You wanna roll up in my district, looking like a f**king reject from a mid-tier mafia anime, with a haircut that says 'I take my trauma out on my employees,' and ask me questions?"
Kirika's left eye twitched. "What the hell does that—"
"Secondly," Rin continued, "I should be the one asking questions, actually."
"Oh, this should be good—"
"Are you serious, Kirika?" Rin's voice sharpened, stepping forward. "You have the nerve to ask me who this kid is, but you never had a problem gunning down your own f**king brother over a damn gold mine in South Africa?"
Silence.
One of Kirika's henchmen coughed awkwardly.
Kirika ignored it. "That's in the past—"
"Oh, f**k you," Rin cut her off. "I don't care if that was in 2008, 1998, or the f**king Sengoku period—YOU MURDERED YOUR OWN BROTHER, KIRIKA. AND FOR WHAT?A ROCK?"
"It was a very expensive rock—"
"OH, MY F**KING GOD—"
"—and more importantly, that has nothing to do with this—"
"NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS?" Rin's laugh was so dry it could start a wildfire. "BITCH, YOU THINK YOU CAN KILL MY HUSBAND, DESTROY MY LIFE, FORCE ME INTO A WORLD OF CRIME, AND THEN PULL UP YEARS LATER, LIKE 'HEY RIN, LONG TIME NO SEE, WHO'S THE BRAT?' LIKE WE'RE AT A F**KING FAMILY REUNION?"
Kirika clicked her tongue. "...So you're still bitter?"
Rin actually had to physically turn around to keep from screaming.
Rin pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling through her teeth. "I. AM. GOING. TO. KILL. YOU."
Kirika visibly twitched.
Rin Akagitsune's fingers twitched against the concealed grip of her pistol, tucked beneath the folds of her ornate kimono. Her emerald eyes, sharp and unblinking, burned with the weight of years—years of rage, years of grief, years spent clawing her way back from the abyss Kirika had thrown her into.
Her husband's murderer stood before her.
The woman who had ordered his death.
The woman whose selfish greed had not only taken the love of Rin's life but had also stolen the child that had barely begun to exist.
For years, Rin had dreamed of this moment. Had fantasized about the look on Kirika's face when she finally put a bullet right between her cold, scheming eyes. The woman had it coming. Every sleepless night, every nightmare, every ounce of blood that had soaked the streets of this red-light district was because of her. If it weren't for Kirika, Rin wouldn't have needed to crawl through hell just to stay alive.
And yet…
And yet.
The weight of the gun was nothing compared to the weight of the crimson-eyed boy standing beside her.
Shotaro Mugiwara.
A child of tragedy, just like her.
A boy who had lost everything in one night, just like her.
A boy who had saved her.
She wasn't supposed to care. He was just a brat she picked up off a beach. A walking anomaly with silver hair that glowed like steel under the morning sun, with sun-kissed skin that didn't match the winter chill, and eyes that—when she looked into them—held something ancient, something cosmic, something that made her wonder if fate itself had brought them together.
If it had been a few months ago—hell, even a few days ago—she would have ended Kirika without hesitation. Would have left her to bleed out on these very streets.
But Shotaro was watching her.
Watching, waiting.
If she pulled the trigger now, would he understand? Or would she become exactly what Ikemoto warned her about?
This was it.
The moment of choice.
Stay a monster for those who had died…
Or choose something else—for the one who was still alive beside her.
For the boy who had already changed her, changed the entire red-light district, and—without even realizing it—saved her from herself.
Rin tightened her grip. Her breathing slowed.
And she made her choice.
The weight of the gun in her hand felt heavier than ever before. Years of hatred, years of blood-boiling vengeance—it had all led to this. The cold steel against her palm was the last remnant of the woman she used to be, the monster she had become to survive. And now, standing before her, was the reason for it all.
Kirika.
The snake who had ordered her husband gunned down on his way to the hospital. The wretched woman whose greed had taken not just a life but a family—her family. The one who had pushed her into a darkness so deep she'd thought she'd never crawl out of it.
But she had.
And the proof of it was standing right beside her.
Shotaro.
The five-year-old anomaly, the miracle wrapped in silver hair and crimson eyes, the child who should've had nothing to do with her yet had somehow dragged her out of the abyss.
She could feel his gaze on her. Watching. Waiting.
Not for the gun. Not for the bullet.
But for her choice.
And that was why, for the first time in years… she let go.
The gun hit the ground with a hollow clatter. The sound echoed louder than any gunshot she could've fired.
It was over.
Not for Kirika. No, that bitch was still standing there, smirking like she'd won something. But for her—for Rin Akagitsune—the war inside was over.
She had changed.
Her hand, now empty, twitched as if struggling to accept the choice she had just made. Then, she turned to Shotaro, watching his expression shift—not in fear, not in relief—but in sheer surprise.
Not at the gun's presence.
But at the fact that she hadn't used it.
"You know I had that, right, brat?" Rin asked, her voice softer than she expected, the warmth in her tone unfamiliar even to herself.
Shotaro blinked, still staring at the discarded weapon before glancing back at her.
"Well, I do have x-ray vision..." he admitted, scratching the back of his head. "But I am surprised you didn't use it."
There was genuine awe in his voice, a rare kind of admiration—like he had expected her to pull the trigger and had been bracing himself for it.
She scoffed. "Hah. What? Did you think I was gonna paint the streets red for you?"
Shotaro didn't answer immediately. His crimson eyes studied her, piercing in a way that made her feel exposed—like he could see everything inside her, the past, the present, the struggle.
Rin turned away from him and locked eyes with Kirika again.
Her voice was steady now.
"Listen here, bitch."
Kirika's smirk twitched.
"You're still walking right now not because I can't kill you," Rin continued, her emerald eyes narrowing. "But because I chose not to."
A pause.
"That's something you'll never understand."
She had always thought vengeance would be the thing that set her free. But now, standing there, with the weight of that choice still lingering in her fingers…
She realized it wasn't.
It was this.
This moment.
This choice.
And the boy beside her—the boy who had saved her without even meaning to—was the reason why.
The moment Kirika said the words—
"Well, I am still taking over this red-light district."
—her men moved.
Guns drawn. Fingers on triggers.
And then—
CRACK.
The street shattered.
A shockwave blasted out from Shotaro's feet as he moved.
No—vanished.
The sound barrier screamed as the air itself was torn apart.
By the time Kirika's men processed what was happening, it was already too late.
BOOM.
The first guy went flying—Shotaro's fist collided with his stomach so hard that his entire ribcage bent inward before his body was sent spiraling through the sky, crashing into the upper floors of a nearby building. He wouldn't be coming down anytime soon.
The second guy tried to turn, but before his brain could even send the signal to his arms—
CRACK.
Shotaro's knee slammed into his jaw like a missile, sending him into a backflip so violent that his spine nearly folded in half before he crashed into the pavement headfirst, leaving a crater.
Another one managed to fire a shot—
PEW.
Heat vision.
Not at his head, not at his body—no, Shotaro had precisely aimed at the gun itself, melting the barrel mid-shot. The gunman screamed as molten metal dripped onto his hands, forcing him to drop the weapon before Shotaro grabbed him by the ankle and—
WHAM.
Slammed him into another guy. Like a human baseball bat.
BANG.
Another one swung a knife.
Shotaro caught it between two fingers.
SNAP.
The entire blade shattered.
The guy barely had time to scream before Shotaro chopped him in the throat with just enough force to make him regret every decision that led him to this moment. He hit the ground, gasping for air, hands clutching at his bruised windpipe.
One last guy, thinking he could be slick, tried running.
Shotaro appeared in front of him.
"Going somewhere?"
Before the man could even respond, a single punch to the gut had his body folding like a piece of paper. Spit, snot, and whatever dignity he had left exploded from his face as he collapsed on the spot.
And then—silence.
Kirika stood there, frozen.
Her men were either crumpled on the floor, embedded into walls, or straight-up KO'd into the next dimension.
Shotaro turned to her.
Eyes glowing.
Fists clenched.
And with a voice too calm for the devastation he just caused, he spoke:
"...You were saying?"
Kirika turned to run.
She made it three steps.
Then—
SSSZZZZZHHHHH!
A beam of red-hot fury sliced through the air.
Before she could even scream, her right leg—gone.
Severed clean at the knee.
She collapsed, her body hitting the pavement with a wet thud.
And then the pain hit.
A white-hot explosion of agony shot through her nerves as her body realized what had just happened.
Her voice cracked, a twisted, gargled shriek ripping from her throat as blood poured from the stump, oozing onto the pavement, staining the once-clean streets in a puddle of deep crimson.
Her hands clutched at the wound, shaking, trembling, her breaths turning into shallow, panicked gasps.
This was it.
She was going to die.
Not at the hands of an assassin.
Not from some bitter rival.
But a five-year-old boy.
And he was walking toward her.
Slow. Deliberate.
Like judgment itself.
She looked up, her vision blurred from pain and tears, and she saw them—
Those eyes.
Deep crimson, burning, filled with something she never thought she'd see in a child so young.
Hatred.
Not the blind, screaming kind.
Not the reckless, emotional kind.
No—this was calculated.
This was the hatred of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.
And he was pissed.
She wanted to say something.
To beg.
To plead.
But as he got closer, something else filled her mind.
Something she hadn't thought about in years.
A voice.
"Big Brother... Ikemoto."
Her breath hitched.
Memories flooded back, crashing down on her like an avalanche.
Ikemoto, smiling as he played with her when they were kids.
Ikemoto, standing up for her when no one else would.
Ikemoto, looking at her with betrayal the moment she had him gunned down.
His blood.
Her hands.
And now—
Karma.
She had done this.
To him.
To Rin.
To so many others.
And now, here she was.
Alone.
Broken.
Helpless.
At the mercy of a boy she didn't even know—
No—
Not just a boy.
Something else.
Something bigger.
A child born from a virgin, under an impossible alignment of stars.
A cosmic event.
A walking miracle.
The Messiah the world thought had died.
Shotaro Mugiwara.
And he was looking down at her, his shadow stretching over her trembling form, his face unreadable.
Kirika choked on a sob, finally realizing—
She wasn't the judge of this world.
She was just another sinner waiting for her sentence.
The air was thick—so thick it felt like the entire red-light district had stopped breathing.
Shotaro's heat vision still hummed, a deadly red glow burning in his eyes as the heat rippled off his small, trembling body.
But then—
A hand.
A soft hand, warm despite the burns already forming on her palm, pressed over his eyes.
His flames did not stop immediately.
He felt it.
The skin on her hand searing, the flesh scorching, but she did not pull away.
She stood there, bearing the pain.
For him.
For this child.
Shotaro gasped, his body jerking in surprise as his vision returned to darkness, as the world disappeared beneath Rin's gentle but firm hand.
He stopped.
The heat vision cut off instantly.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Rin slowly moved her burned hand away, looking down to see the raw burns now marking her skin, the faint scent of scorched flesh filling the air.
But she didn't care.
Instead, she turned her gaze downward—to the five-year-old boy in front of her, the one with silver hair and haunted crimson eyes, wide with shock, sorrow, innocence, and horror all at once.
Tears welled in those otherworldly eyes, spilling down his cheeks in trembling rivulets.
His small fingers curled into trembling fists.
His lips quivered.
His breath hitched.
His voice cracked when he asked, "Why would you do that?"
His eyes flickered down to her burned hand, and fresh guilt tore through him.
"I nearly got you killed."
"I hurt you."
"I hurt you—Ms. Rin—"
"Why?"
The weight of what he almost did crushed him.
But Rin only gave him a soft, tired smile, her hand cupping his cheek, wiping away the tears that had begun to spill.
"My kind child."
She turned his face gently, forcing him to look at the pitiful form of Kirika on the ground—
The woman who had caused her so much pain.
The woman she should want dead.
And yet—
She did not.
"Look at her."
Shotaro's breath stilled.
Kirika lay on the ground, her face pale, her body trembling, her hands gripping the bleeding stump of her missing leg.
But it wasn't just pain twisting her face.
It was fear.
It was guilt.
It was realization.
"She looks ready to surrender. To confess. There's no need to kill her."
Her voice was calm. Steady.
Her hand brushed through his silver hair, his small body still shaking as she held him close.
"But..." His voice was small, uncertain. "*She'll just cause more problems if I let her live. She'll only hurt more people—"
Rin hugged him.
Her arms, wrapped in silk, pulled him against her warm body, pressing his face into the soft fabric of her kimono.
The smell of her perfume.
The warmth of her embrace.
The tenderness of a mother.
"Then you'll be no better than her."
His breath hitched.
"She is sentient."
"She can feel guilt for her actions."
"So can you."
Shotaro froze.
Her words hit deep—like a knife plunging straight into the core of his existence.
"I don't want you to turn into the monster you saved me from staying in."
The world blurred.
For a moment, he wasn't standing in the red-light district.
For a moment, he was back on hokkaido.
Himwari's face, face flashing through his mind.
"Save everyone, Shotaro."
He clenched his eyes shut.
His tiny fingers curled into her kimono.
"Never."
His voice wavered.
"I will never become a monster."
"Because you saved me," Rin whispered.
"Now it's my turn to save you."
"To change."
And in that moment—
For the first time in years—
Rin Akagitsune did not feel like a woman drowning in the past.
She did not feel like the broken soul who lost everything.
For the first time, she felt like—
A mother.
Shotaro's crimson eyes were still shimmering with fresh tears, locked onto Rin's burned hand. The flesh was raw, a deep, painful red where his heat vision had singed her skin.
The five-year-old winced. His small fingers hovered over the wound, guilt gnawing at his chest like a beast.
"Your hands..." he murmured, voice fragile, as if it might shatter if he spoke any louder.
Rin simply smiled.
"Don't worry," she said, waving her burned hand dismissively, as if the pain was nothing. "They will heal."
She flexed her fingers, testing the damage, but then—
She looked at him.
Deeply.
A gaze filled with something heavier than the weight of her own pain.
"Even if they don't heal... I won't care."
Shotaro's breath hitched.
"Why?"
And then, Rin placed her palm—the same wounded palm—over her heart.
"Because something more precious than these hands has healed today."
Shotaro blinked, staring up at her in confusion.
Her voice softened, her eyes carrying a warmth that had not been there before.
"My heart."
Silence stretched between them, but it wasn't empty.
It was full.
Full of something neither of them had expected to find in each other.
Shotaro's lips parted, his throat tight. He didn't understand why, but his chest ached.
Like something was swelling inside of it, something heavy, something warm, something that made it hard to breathe—
Something he thought had died with his mother.
But Rin's hand never left her heart.
Instead, she knelt down, so they were eye level, her emerald gaze locking onto his.
"Kid," she murmured, voice steady, strong, but kind. "Promise me something."
Shotaro swallowed.
"What?"
She reached out and gently placed her uninjured hand on his small shoulder.
"Promise me that you will never kill someone with your powers unless it is absolutely necessary."
His eyes widened.
"Even then," she continued, "you will do everything in your power not to kill."
The five-year-old froze.
His small fists clenched at his sides, his mind racing.
"But what if—?"
"No 'what ifs.'" Rin's voice was firm, but not unkind.
She knew what he was about to say.
He was afraid.
Afraid that sparing people would only lead to more suffering.
Afraid that mercy would be a mistake.
Afraid that he would let another monster live—one that might hurt more people in the future.
And yet—
"That fear," Rin said, squeezing his shoulder, "is exactly why I'm asking you to promise me."
Shotaro's chest tightened.
"I know what it feels like," she continued, her voice softer now. "To think that the only way to stop evil is to erase it completely. That was me before you, kid."
She let out a slow, tired breath.
"But if you kill too easily, too willingly, you will become the very thing you hate."
Her words pressed into his heart like weights, heavy with truth.
She looked into his crimson eyes—eyes that were too bright for a child. Eyes that had seen too much.
"Promise me."
Shotaro stared at her.
At the woman who had every reason to kill Kirika but didn't.
At the woman who had burned herself to stop him from making the same mistakes.
At the woman who had chosen to change.
For him.
His throat tightened.
His fingers trembled.
But slowly—
He nodded.
"I promise."
Rin smiled, ruffling his silver hair.
"Good."
And as she pulled him into a gentle hug, Shotaro felt something he hadn't felt since his mother died.
Warmth.
Safety.
A mother's love.
And for the first time, he truly believed—
Maybe saving her had saved him too.
Kirika Hokara had been reduced to a broken woman, her leg gone, her blood staining the streets she had once hoped to own. The pain was unbearable, but the weight of her own conscience was heavier.
Shotaro's words still rang in her ears.
"Do yourself a favor. Surrender."
And for the first time in her wretched life, Kirika did something she never thought she would—
She obeyed.
She confessed everything.
The hit on Ikemoto Hokara.
The conspiracy behind the gold mine in South Africa.
Every crime, every betrayal, every step she took that led her to this moment.
It all came spilling out like an infected wound finally bursting open.
The Hokara family, once blind to Kirika's treachery, was left in disgrace. Their golden daughter, the woman who had murdered her own brother over greed, was now a paralyzed, disgraced criminal facing a lifetime behind bars.
But some wounds could never be healed.
They could never bring back Ikemoto Hokara, Rin's husband.
They could never bring back the unborn child that had died with him.
They could never erase the years Rin spent drowning in her own bitterness, her own rage.
So, in a desperate attempt at atonement, the Hokara family did the only thing they could—
They gave everything to Rin Akagitsune.
The gold mine in South Africa.
The riches Kirika had once killed for.
The empire that had led to so much bloodshed.
Now, all of it was placed at the feet of the woman who had lost everything because of it.
Rin stood before the Hokara elders as they bowed their heads, offering reparations for sins that could never truly be repaid.
She took it.
Not out of greed.
Not out of revenge.
But because she had a new purpose now.
Because a silver-haired, crimson-eyed child had shown her a different path.
With the wealth and influence Rin now commanded, the first thing she did was turn Musashi no Yamato's Red Light District inside out.
The criminal underbelly? Gone.
The human trafficking rings? Erased.
The corrupt officials who turned a blind eye? Exposed and thrown out like trash.
The district was no longer a haven for crime, no longer a feeding ground for predators and monsters lurking in the dark.
Instead, Rin restructured it into a fully legal, well-regulated entertainment zone.
The women who had once been trapped in a life they couldn't escape now had a choice.
If they wanted out? They were free to leave, with full financial support to start anew.
If they wanted to stay? They would now work under fair conditions, protected, respected, and given rights they never had before.
Rin Akagitsune was no longer a warlord ruling over a kingdom of sin.
She was now its guardian.
And at the heart of it all, watching everything unfold, was Shotaro Mugiwara.
The child who had changed everything.
To the world, the Messiah who was born on January 30, 2008, under a perfectly aligned solar system, had died in the Hokkaido Incident.
Shotaro Mugiwara did not exist.
Only Shotaro, Rin's adopted son, did.
His true identity remained a secret.
And under the care of Rin and the many women who had once been trapped in the Red Light District, Shotaro was raised.
Not just by Rin—
But by all of them.
The women who had been forced into this life out of desperation.
The ones who had once sold their bodies just to feed their children.
The ones who had taken care of their own younger siblings, nephews, and sons—
They now took care of Shotaro.
He grew up in a world that most would never understand.
Where love and trauma coexisted in the same breath.
Where women who had been used and discarded by society now stood strong, with him as their little beacon of light.
The kid was spoiled rotten.
Not in wealth—he was already richer than 99% of the world—
But in love.
Every woman in that district saw him as theirs.
"Shotaro, you need a bath!"
"Eat more, you're too skinny!"
"Did you do your homework? No?! Oi, don't 'heat vision' my papers again, you little brat!"
"Come here, let me fix your hair—stop flying away, you little shit!"
Rin watched all of this with a tired sigh.
At some point, the Red Light District had become daycare.
For the strongest, most overpowered five-year-old the world had never known.
Shotaro was not a normal child.
Not even close.
By the time he entered elementary school, he had already memorized every book in the library.
By the time he reached middle school, his test scores were so perfect that teachers accused him of cheating.
(Which Rin found hilarious.)
"I don't need to cheat," Shotaro had deadpanned. "I can recite the whole damn textbook word for word. Want me to do it backwards?"
He dominated in academics.
He dominated in physical education.
He was stronger,faster, and smarter than any kid his age.
And yet, no one ever truly noticed.
Because every time he did something too extraordinary, Rin warned him.
"Tone it down, brat. You wanna blow your cover?"
And so, he played along.
Got just enough wrong on his tests.
Ran just a little slower than his full speed.
Made himself appear human.
Because the world could never know what he really was.
Not yet.
Not until he was ready.
And until then, Shotaro Mugiwara, the Messiah who 'died' in the Hokkaido Incident, would remain hidden.
A ghost in plain sight.
A legend waiting to be reborn.