Episode 46 - Past Arc EP5: Winter in Kyoto – Masako’s Story

When Shota came to, he was standing in front of a quiet train station in a residential area of Kyoto.

The cold winter air stung his skin, and each breath turned white as it melted into the stillness. The street trees had long since shed their leaves, and a thin layer of brown foliage lay scattered on the asphalt. As dusk approached, the clear winter sky was tinged a soft orange.

Beside him stood Ryoko.

Clutching the collar of her coat, she silently reached for Shota’s hand. Her fingers were cold, yet they held a quiet strength.

They passed through the peaceful neighborhood, walking from the station until they arrived in front of a small apartment building. Ryoko pushed open the metal gate and stepped into the entrance. Warm indoor air wrapped gently around their cheeks as they entered.

Without hesitation, Ryoko headed for the elevator, Shota in tow.

The floor number ticked upward—then stopped.

The elevator doors opened. Ryoko stepped out and walked straight down the hallway. Stopping in front of a certain door, she took a small breath and knocked.

“...Mom, it’s me.”

After a moment of silence, the door creaked open.

“Ryoko…”

Standing there was a calm-looking woman—Masako.

Her long black hair fell softly around her shoulders, much like Ryoko’s. She had a delicate beauty, almost ephemeral, but her eyes held a quiet sadness.

The two women looked at each other in silence.

All Shota could do was watch.

Inside, the apartment was simple. Lived-in, but minimal.

Only the essentials were there—furniture, bedding, and on a shelf near the wall, a single photo frame:

Masako holding a young Ryoko in her arms.

“Mom… please. I want to hear everything.”

Masako sat at the table, quietly gazing at Ryoko. A faint look of hesitation crossed her face.

With a trembling voice, Ryoko began.

“Do you remember the day Dad died…?”

Masako’s expression shifted ever so slightly.

“...Only in fragments. But I know how much you must have suffered. I—”

Ryoko shook her head.

“No. That’s not it. Mom… you couldn’t accept Dad’s death that day. That’s why—”

“My memory…?” Masako whispered.

“Your ability. The same as mine—the power to manipulate brain hormones. But… that’s not all, is it?”

Shota listened intently.

He could feel Ryoko’s emotions flooding into him: love, grief, and a powerful longing to reclaim what was lost.

After a long silence, Masako gave a small nod.

“...Yes. I loved your father. And I loved you with all my heart.

But when he was suddenly gone… when that bond was cut, it felt like my very existence began to unravel.”

“So you lost your memory?”

“Yes… I think so. But since seeing you again… little by little, the pieces are coming back.”

Tears welled up in Ryoko’s eyes.

“Then… you won’t leave again, right?”

Masako smiled softly, reaching out to touch her daughter’s cheek.

“I’ve always regretted leaving you with your aunt and uncle. From now on, let’s live together.

I’ll teach you how to control your powers.”

Ryoko gripped her mother’s hand tightly.

A warm sense of relief spread through her—and into Shota’s heart as well.

But at this moment,

Shota still didn’t know.

That Masako—

possessed another power entirely.