Kenji felt a tight knot in his chest. That apple in his hand... it was all he had. All he could offer. And deep down, he knew it wasn't enough.
The hospital stood like a relic from an older world — a stone structure, reinforced with thick wooden beams from the ancient forests that once covered the land. There were no signs of advanced equipment or machines. Just beds, oil lamps, and thin curtains swaying in the drafty corridors.
He entered her room quietly.
She was there, as always. Lying motionless. Fragile.
Kenji sat down beside her and forced a smile.
— Good morning, sister, — he whispered softly. His voice cracked. — I hope today is another good day for you. The doctor said... you've been responding well. He thinks you might wake up soon. Isn't that wonderful?
Silence answered him.
He looked down, fingers gripping the fabric of his pants.
— I'm sorry... I promised I'd bring flowers, remember? I couldn't. I... I failed again. Forgive me...
A familiar weight pressed down on his heart — guilt. It never left. It lingered like a shadow.
— If I had been stronger... if I'd protected you back then... you wouldn't be here. You'd still be laughing. Smiling. Teasing me like always...
His voice faded. Memories surfaced.
That day. That cursed day.
His sister had been caught in a battle between demons. Their power had contaminated her, and the aftermath had left her in this comatose state.
He closed his eyes, trying to forget — but the past never let go.
It all began nearly a century ago...
They came from the sky. Beings who called themselves "gods." They spoke of salvation and peace. But humanity hesitated. We didn't believe.
Not until the first miracle.
A little girl, born without a leg, stood in a hospital garden. And before everyone's eyes — her leg grew back. Whole. Healthy.
That was the day the world changed.
People began to believe. Some claimed these beings were searching for one of their own who had fled. Others called them angels. Saviors. Saints.
But the miracles didn't stop.
Then came the demons.
Their appearance was monstrous. Horns, tails, fangs — unlike anything we'd seen. But they spoke the same story. They, too, searched for a runaway.
Only this time, they didn't ask. They demanded.
And so the war began.
The gods allied with kings and temples. The demons found followers among warlords and rebels. Entire clans rose from their flames. And for a hundred years, our world burned.
Even now, the scars remain.
The land is twisted. The sky feels heavier. People grow sick from the leftover energy — corrupted, mutated... changed.
Some gained powers. Others, madness.
Kenji? He only got stronger arms. Enough to carry crates. Not enough to save anyone.
He clenched his fists.
Two years ago, in the outskirts of Gokayama, a battle broke out. Two demons fought over human trafficking routes. One misfired attack... and their home collapsed.
His sister was trapped. Soaked in demonic aura. She never woke up again.
He looked at her, a tear slipping down his cheek.
— I should've been there... I should've protected you.
The door creaked open.
Dr. Vangears stepped in, his white coat fluttering slightly as he walked over. His face was kind, eyes filled with quiet empathy.
— Good morning, Kenji. You came early today, — he said.
Kenji wiped his eyes quickly and nodded.
— I like visiting before work. Just to see her face. It helps.
— And yet, — the doctor replied, crossing his arms — you must remember to take care of yourself too. She'd want that.
Kenji smiled faintly.
— Thanks, doctor. And please, no need for the "Mr." I'm just... me.
Vangears chuckled.
— Fair enough.
Suddenly, Kenji glanced out the window — and froze.
— Oh crap... I'm late!
He jumped to his feet, nearly knocking over the stool.
— Tomoji's gonna kill me! Thank you, doctor! I'll come back later!
He dashed through the halls, boots pounding on cold stone tiles. The lamps above flickered as he ran, cloak billowing behind him.
Outside, the morning sun had already risen — and so had the weight on his shoulders.