Michi's eyes fluttered open. His breathing was shallow, and for a moment, silence pressed against his ears like heavy cotton. The world around him was dark—long halls stretched endlessly in both directions, sterile white walls stained with dim shadows. The smell of disinfectant lingered faintly, mixed with something older, metallic.
He looked down. He was no longer in chains, no longer in blood-soaked tatters. A pale-blue patient's outfit clung to his skin. Bare feet rested against the cold tiles. His chest tightened in confusion. Where… am I now?
Then, breaking the silence—
"Son!"
The voice came like a flood of warmth. Michi turned, eyes wide, as a woman rushed toward him. Her features were unmistakable: Regina Hayasaki, his stepmother. Tears glistened in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around him tightly.
"My boy… my precious son… you're awake at last!" Regina sobbed into his shoulder. "I prayed every single day for this moment. You're finally out of that endless sleep."
Michi's throat constricted. He hadn't heard her voice like this—gentle, caring—in years. He trembled, barely able to return her embrace. "R–Regina…?"
Another voice pierced the gallery.
"Son!"
Heavy steps echoed, and a tall man appeared—Fredrick Hayasaki, his father. His arms engulfed Michi and Regina both, his voice shaking. "You came back to us! Thank the heavens! You're awake, you're alive!"
Michi's body was sandwiched between the two embraces, his eyes wet and disbelieving. Fredrick's hands held him as though never willing to let go.
And then—
"Onii-chan!"
The familiar cry made Michi's chest collapse with a sob. His younger stepbrother, Natsuki Hayasaki, ran forward, clutching him with desperate force. "I missed you so much, Onii-chan! Every single day without you… I wished you'd open your eyes!"
Michi dropped his head, tears spilling uncontrollably. His arms shook as he clung to all three of them. The warmth of their love was overwhelming, almost painful.
Regina's words poured over him like sunlight. "You've been in a coma for so long, Michi… hit by that truck, lying motionless. We thought… we thought we'd never see you again."
Fredrick nodded, his jaw trembling. "But you woke up. You're back with us. Nothing else matters."
Natsuki buried his face into Michi's chest. "I can finally hug you again, Onii-chan. I don't care about anything else—I just… I just missed you so much."
Their voices were so real, so tender. Michi's heart cracked under the weight of it. For so long he believed they hated him—resented him. Yet now, every word was love, every touch was proof. His sobs echoed through the gallery as he hugged them tighter. "I… I missed you all too… so much… I forgot what it felt like to be loved like this. Maybe… maybe everything else… the wars, the blood, the other world… maybe it was all just my dream in that coma…"
The thought wrapped him like a fragile hope. He wanted to believe it. He wanted to live in it forever.
But then—
A sharp pain stabbed through his back.
Michi froze. His body jolted, breath catching. He turned slowly, eyes wide in terror. Regina's face smiled sweetly, her hand gripping the handle of a knife buried deep in his spine. Blood ran down his side, hot and slick.
"Mother…?" Michi whispered, voice breaking.
Her smile widened. "Oh, son. Did you really believe it would be so perfect? Pain makes it real."
Before he could speak again, another burst of agony—Fredrick's knife plunged into his ribs. He gasped, choking, his legs quivering.
"Father—why…?"
Fredrick's voice lost all warmth, venom replacing love. "Why did you come back? You should've stayed dead. You drained us—money, time, everything. Nothing but a burden."
Another stab—Natsuki, his little brother, thrusting a blade into Michi's side. His eyes, once teary, were now sharp with malice. "You're not my brother. You're the pest. I'm their real son now. You should never have woken up."
Each word cut deeper than steel.
Michi collapsed to his knees, gagging on his breath. Their knives pierced him again and again—back, stomach, chest. Blood sprayed, running down his body in crimson streams.
Their once-loving voices warped into a chorus of hatred.
"Why aren't you dead yet?" Regina hissed, twisting her knife.
"You sucked our lives away like a parasite!" Fredrick growled, stabbing his abdomen.
"You're nothing, Michi! Nothing but trash!" Natsuki screamed, driving the blade toward his heart.
Michi's world spun in fire and red. Pain roared through every nerve. His mind cracked under the horror. Yet… his arms moved on their own.
He pulled them all closer.
Even as their knives sank deeper, even as his blood stained their clothes, Michi wrapped his shredded arms around them all. Hugging them. Holding them. His lips split in a broken smile, laughter bubbling out between gasps of agony.
"Even if… you hate me… even if you kill me… I still… love you all…"
Their blades tore through his body, gouging eyes, slashing flesh, breaking bones. His frame trembled violently, skin flayed and dripping. Still, he clung tighter, refusing to let go.
Tears of despair and twisted joy mingled on his blood-streaked face as he whispered, "Stay with me… just a little longer…"
The world blurred into red and shadow. Their bodies vanished, leaving only silence and blood pooling around his feet.
Michi staggered, alone, a mangled form dripping crimson. His breath rattled like shards of glass in his lungs.
Ahead, a pale white light shimmered at the end of the gallery.
Step by step, broken and trembling, Michi walked toward it. Each footfall left a trail of blood. His body shook, barely held together, but his eyes—burning with something deeper—never looked away from the light.