A boy with dark hair and pale, almost translucent skin lay quietly on his bed.
The room was mostly empty—bare wooden walls, a single bed, and green curtains that fluttered gently by the window. A pot of bamboo sat beside it, its roots immersed in water.
Sunlight pierced through a narrow gap in the curtains, falling directly on the boy's face.
His eyes flickered open, half-lidded with sleep. He groaned softly, throwing off the blanket.
Stretching his limbs, he rubbed his eyes with a sigh.
"That's the best sleep I've had in a while," he thought.
He shuffled over to the window and pulled the curtains aside.
The sight outside stopped him.
Rain poured heavily from the sky, yet the world shimmered under brilliant light. The sky was too bright—unnaturally so.
"So bright…" he murmured, squinting.
He slid open the wooden door. The creaking frame revealed an old-style Japanese house—wooden floors and soft paper walls.
Downstairs, the scent of breakfast wafted in the air.
His mother was at the stove, humming gently.
"Morning, baby. You're up earlier than usual," she said playfully without turning.
She wore soft green pajamas, matching his. Her long brownish hair draped over her back like silk, her skin pale as rice paper, with light pink lips and bright, gentle brown eyes.
Kaito said nothing, only stared blankly.
"Mom…" he thought, warmth blooming behind his stoic gaze. His lips twitched upward into a small smile.
He sat at the low dining table.
"You're not gonna give your mom a morning hug?" she teased.
"Mom, I'm not a kid anymore," he said.
She puffed out her pink cheeks in mock protest, arms crossed.
He chuckled in defeat. "Alright, alright."
He stood and hugged her. Her warm body pressed against his ribs—soft, familiar. Safe.
"You've grown again," she said, looking up at him with a proud smile. Her head barely reached his chin.
"Can we just eat already?" Kaito muttered, embarrassed.
She tightened her hug. "You used to sleep clinging to me like a koala, remember?"
"That's not what I meant, Mom."
Kaito's arms wrapped tighter.
"You're still my mom. I love you, always."
They sat down for breakfast.
"Mom, your cooking's amazing. Outside food tastes bland now."
"Then I'll teach you to cook," she grinned. "So you can make me meals when I'm sick."
"With how lively you are and the morning jogs, I don't think you'll ever get sick."
She giggled. "Well, I have a surprise for you tonight."
Kaito blinked. "Chocolate cake?"
She pouted. "You always ruin surprises!"
...
Later, the two sat in the living room watching the strange weather. Rain still poured, yet the brightness only grew stronger.
"Kaito… the light behind those clouds—it's like heaven, isn't it?"
"Yeah… it's beautiful." But his heart tensed.
Something's wrong.
He narrowed his eyes.
"The sun should be in the east… why is all that light coming from the west?"
Suddenly, the clouds split. The light spilled over rooftops. And the world began to vanish.
Instinct screamed: Run.
His mother grabbed him, arms trembling. "Be careful…"
She still worries about me… even now… and I—
"I forgot her for a moment. I'm pathetic."
Then, everything turned white.
...
Where am I? Where's Mom?
"Kaito… this is the world you will live in from now on," a voice echoed in his mind.
Father!?
"Kaito, listen carefully. This world is vast—far beyond what either of us imagined. And it devours everything."
The voice was clear, sharp. His father's.
"You must survive. Remember these rules:
First—trust no one. Weak or strong, friend or foe.
Second—the Forgotten Forest is ten times Earth's size. Filled with horror.
Third—I left some of my powers and memories. Take them."
A golden orb of light appeared in the void.
Kaito reached out and touched it.
His body convulsed. Visions and knowledge flooded his mind.
A new voice interrupted.
"Brat, scared already? Are you really Haruki's son?"
Kaito's grandfather?
His father replied, "That's your mother's father. He came here before me. We tried to protect you two… but we're gone now."
Dead…?
"We can revive—but only if you find our legacies," his grandfather added.
"I left a path to safety. Take your mother and run," his father's voice said.
"I trust you, Kaito. Protect her."
...
Kaito woke again.
His mother lay beside him, still unconscious. Around them: scorched earth, blackened trees, and a red-black sun above.
"12 kilometers…" he muttered.
If not for Father and Grandpa clearing this zone… we'd be dead.
"Mom, wake up," he whispered, placing a hand over her mouth.
She jolted—eyes wide with fear—but didn't scream.
He put a finger to his lips. She nodded.
He explained everything.
She looked terrified—but not for herself. For him.
Kaito knew that was dangerous. In this world, love could be a fatal weakness.
He now had two enhancements: super senses and a Ten-Thousand-Thought Mind. But his body needed time—one week—to adjust.
"A third skill would help… but I can't push this body too far. A newborn monster's core might work…"
Suddenly, his instincts howled.
He looked up.
The black sun turned blood-red.
"Damn it… why now!?"
He turned to his trembling mother. "We need shelter. Now."
She stood, barely steady. "Let's go, baby."
He was stunned by her resolve.
They ran. Her pace was slow, so he scooped her up.
"You're light as a feather. I'm cooking meat for you later."
"K-Kaito…" she whispered weakly.
Carrying her awkwardly on his shoulder, he sprinted beneath a tree. The roots curled out of the ground, forming a small cave.
Rain began to fall—red as blood.
Monsters howled. The air was thick with dread.
He covered his mother's eyes and ears.
"This blood-rain should keep the beasts away for now. The moment it stops—we run."
But the danger came sooner.
A wolf-like beast crashed down, blood-red horns gleaming. It melted from the rain, but its fury remained.
A shard of rock shot toward them—Kaito blocked it.
His forearm snapped.
Bone pierced skin.
The monster stared at them, eyes burning.
And Kaito, arm shattered, teeth gritted… stood between it and his mother.