Chapter 1:
Yumix, Unveiled
[Art 01: Hiroki Kurogane, at the age of 12 (Comment Section)]
Tokyo, 2030. Although the streets were vibrant with life, the ambience was overshadowed by the destructive fury of the storm sweeping over the city. Thunder crashed, the sky wept, and the wind screamed like a wild beast. The city had seen tragedy, a disaster that etched deep wounds into both its streets and the hearts of its inhabitants.
Amid the disorder, there was a boy who ignored everything around him, focused solely on finding shelter from the pouring rain. A cold, blank look crossed his face until he spotted a brightly lit place that appeared to be open, but it was empty from inside. Without hesitation, he swung the door open and stepped inside, looking noticeably tired.
[Hiroki Kurogane], 17 years old, is this boy, characterized by his dark blue hair and a demeanor marked by chill and aloofness
The ambiance of the bookstore was imbued with a sense of dignity, owing to its antiquity, the place thick with the smell of aged paper and wetness air. Hiroki moved quietly, his thoughts distant. He had no grand dreams, no ambitions—his future was a blank page. Though he was sociable enough in conversation, he always avoided building deep relationships; trust, after all, was a fragile thing for him.. In a world this fractured, this broken, beyond repair, why even bother?
Aside from being really hungry and confused by the circumstances, this situation was quite surprising even in today's weather expectations. Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the rows of books. Hiroki paused, his heart quickening as a cold thought slithered into his mind.. His Death. Could this catastrophe be the end of him? The idea of his own mortality gripped him for a moment. But just as quickly as it came, the thought faded, replaced by a deeper reflection. The world had always been corrupt, he thought, filled with cruelty and greed. His detachment wasn't a shield, but all he wanted was to stay alive. "Why should I give a damn about a world that didn't give a hoot about me?" He whispered to himself.
As his thoughts wandered, a faint noise stirred from a nearby table, breaking his reverie. Initially, it was like the sound of the wind, yet that one was like no other before.
"What.. was that exactly?" Hiroki muttered under his breath, glancing over. A large, seemingly ancient closed book overflowing with pages, featuring ornate decorations in a rich, old-fashioned gold color.
"This book... Wait, wasn't it open when I first walked in? Am I okay with my mind or am already starting to go senile?"
His curiosity got the better of him, so he moved in closer. Dust coated the cover, the book seemed ordinary enough.. until he opened it.
The pages were mostly blank, except for symbols and strange scripts he couldn't even understand. But one fragment caught his eye, written in clear Japanese:
" Within each soul, a hidden key. Till life's last breath, Yumix always will be $##$... "
The rest of the speech was vague and difficult to follow.
"Yumix?" He had never heard that word before.
"Why am I reading this in the first place.. whatever.."
But While considering those mysterious words, he blinked for just a moment, and the book looked empty again.
"Eh?? What the heck?" he said in disbelief.
He blinked his eyes over and over again, trying to comprehend what had just happened.
"Well I guess it's just my brain being tired and spaced out."
But then, the sound of shattering glass interrupted his thoughts instantly. The front doors of the bookstore were blown inward by the storm, a violent gust filling the room with debris and plunging the room into darkness.. Hiroki spun around, instinctively shielding his face. Amidst the howling winds and surrounding chaos, something even more horrifying drew his attention.
His right hand was completely gone!
For a moment, disbelief gripped him. Then, the pain hit, searing through him like fire. His scream pierced the raging storm, "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH… WHY WHY WHY, WHAT'S THAT? WHY.. IT HURTS! HOW DID ALL OF THAT HAPPENED!" Everything around him seemed a blur of fear and pain.
Amid the turmoil, the strange sound from earlier came back, clearer now—a faint, yet urgent voice.
".. Catch it..."
Hiroki gasped for breath, his mind racing. The voice. The book. Could it be figments? His vision blurred as blood poured from his severed limb, and yet, the book on the table glowed faintly, almost like it was beckoning him.
"Am I losing my mind...?"
With the last of his strength, Hiroki reached out, his remaining hand grasping that glowing book. But fate said something else, as his fingers brushed the cover, a sudden impact struck him hard in the chest. The iron bars from the door, hurled by the storm's fury, pierced through his heart.
As the world dimmed, a deep sense of helplessness hit him. He had always been powerless, hadn't he? Unable to change anything in his life, unable to make a difference. Now what? He would die without ever understanding why.
"I.. couldn't do.. anything... Help me" His voice was barely a whisper as darkness enveloped his eyes.
As Hiroki's grip weakened, the book slipped from his hand. His fading vision caught the faint glow of its cover, but the world around him was already turning dark. He didn't know that fate was leading him into something he couldn't even fathom
Though his eyes were closed, strange sensations filled his mind—vivid streaks of yellow and violet lights swirling in the void even though he didn't really see anything. It was as if his body had dissolved, leaving him adrift in a sea of chaos.
He tried to focus and grasp some semblance of reality, but it was no use. The physical world had vanished. In its place were fleeting, disjointed blurred memories, not his own, but perhaps from another world.
Until his last bit of awareness faded, Hiroki surrendered to the darkness, and his thoughts dissolved into nothing.
Hiroki floated in a void, trapped between dreams and reality. His mind flickered with fragmented memories—his past, his regrets, his failures.
"This world.. was never right."
"My so-called friends.. they never showed up when I needed them. Just empty words. Broken promises. That's when I stopped believing in friendship. The word lost all meaning for me."
"I realized that the real problem was the widening gap between the strong and the weak. It kept people apart, unless it's for their own gain. Even so, I still.. wanted to help. I wanted to fix things."
He muttered all this while lost in his dreams.
But then, a soft voice of a girl echoed in the darkness, pulling him back toward consciousness. It was faint but soothing, he couldn't exactly understand what she was trying to say, until her voice faded away.
Hiroki remained in that darkness, lost in the visions of his thoughts.
"If I had another chance... would it even matter? Could I really be different?" he wondered, though the answer felt distant, unreachable, like a fading dream.
[Art 02: Hiroki Kurogane, at the age of 16 (Comment Section)]
Hiroki felt himself clawing back to the surface. His mind was foggy, his body numb, and yet something pulled at him, forcing him to wake. It was like surfacing from deep waters slowly.
"W-Where.. am I?" He thought, unaware of what was happening.
His senses finally returned back. Blurred figures hovered in front of his eyes, and loud, jumbled voices swirled around him—voices of people. His thoughts were slow, but one thing stood out that he could notice.. A woman was right there, hurrying on her way through the chaos.
"Quick, find a free room to treat him.. right away!" She ordered.
"Seems the number of injured is more than expected, we don't know if we can save them all," said one of the men there.
His body felt constant ache, and the chaos around him was growing louder. Many voices, footsteps, clattering metal, and other things he couldn't even place what's it.
He turned his gaze and saw her briefly, enough to notice the kindness in her eyes, and tension in her movements like she was racing against time.
"Really... What a... cute woman..." his words came out before his mind could catch up. His awareness gone, pulling him once more into the depths of sleep. The world faded into nothingness, leaving only darkness behind.
[ To be Continued ]
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