VOLUME #4 - EPISODE 8
[CONTENT WARNING: MA17+]
[NARRATOR: Some demons are evil. Some are hidden. And some are just people who awakened abilities at the worst possible moment and spent their entire lives being blamed for crimes they committed in self-defense. Today, we meet Akuma Kodomo—the demon child who killed a robber to avenge his parents and was marked as monster by everyone who saw the aftermath. Today, Jimiko recognizes a mirror of his own persecution. Today, Owari's desperate bid for her brother Heitā's love reaches its breaking point in the most public, painful way possible. And today, Hansamu begins revealing the truth about 1876—starting with how the three original students died. Welcome to the demon who killed twice. Welcome to when being marked doesn't make you guilty, but surviving the marking makes you hollow.]
PART ONE: THE MORNING THAT SMELLED LIKE BLOOD
Wednesday. Fifth week of senior year. Three days since the agents arrived. Four days until Hansamu's deadline for Principal Jeremy to reveal the truth about 1876.
Riyura walked through Jeremy High's gates feeling the weight of accumulated impossibilities—Yakamira alive and captive, Shinda potentially turning to their side, Headayami hiding secrets about the Shiko family, and Hansamu orchestrating everything from the shadows while holding Riyura's bow tie like a trophy.
[RIYURA'S INTERNAL MONOLOGUE: I should be more stressed about this. Should be panicking. Should be drowning in despair about my brother being used as leverage by a manipulative agent with parent issues and a cape obsession. But instead I'm just—tired. Exhausted. Running on spite and stubbornness and the vague hope that somehow, impossibly, we'll survive this like we've survived everything else. Is that growth? Or is that just being too broken to process new trauma properly? Either way, at least I can still make jokes. That's something.]
The morning felt wrong immediately. Students were gathered in unusual clusters, whispering, phones out, that particular energy that suggested something had happened overnight.
"Did you see?" a student said to her friend as Riyura passed. "The demon child transfer student? Yeah. Someone posted his history online. The village murders. Everything."
Riyura's stomach dropped. He pulled out his phone, checked social media. The top trending post was about Akuma Kodomo.
An anonymous account—probably Hansamu, definitely Hansamu—had posted a detailed breakdown of Akuma's past. Village records. Police reports. Newspaper articles from nine years ago. Photos of a crime scene so gruesome they'd been censored but the descriptions remained:
"CHILD KILLS PARENTS IN SUSPECTED SUPERNATURAL INCIDENT"
"VILLAGE TERROR: KID BLAMED FOR IMPOSSIBLE MURDERS"
"DEMON CHILD INVESTIGATION CLOSED AS 'UNEXPLAINED'"
And beneath the historical documents, a recent photo: Akuma Kodomo, age seventeen, hollow-eyed and emotionless, with caption: "Now attending Jeremy High. The demon child walks among you. Be careful."
"This is character assassination," Miyaka said, appearing beside Riyura with her phone showing the same posts. "This is deliberate. Hansamu is targeting the agents one by one, exposing their trauma publicly to—to what? Make them more isolated? More dependent on him?"
"Or to show us they're just as broken as we are," Jimiko said quietly, joining them. "To prove that the people investigating us are also victims. That this whole situation is—is broken people being used by systems to destroy other broken people."
They found Akuma in the courtyard, sitting alone on a bench, completely still. Students gave him space from discomfort—that instinctive human response to perceived danger, to someone marked as different, as wrong, as demon.
His hollow eyes stared at nothing. His hands rested in his lap, perfectly still, but Riyura could see the tension. Could see the way his fingers twitched slightly, like he was suppressing the urge to activate his abilities. To make the water in a nearby fountain respond to his emotional state. To prove he was exactly the monster they thought he was. Riyura could tell he had abilitys, and he could tell Riyura knew that without even looking up from agent trained instincts.
"Akuma," Riyura said carefully, approaching.
"Don't." Akuma's voice was flat. Emotionless. "Don't try to help. Don't try to understand. Don't try to convince me I'm not what everyone says I am. I killed someone. Killed a robber who murdered my parents. Made the crime scene so gruesome the police marked it 'supernatural incident' because normal violence doesn't drain all moisture from a body while simultaneously shredding it with pressurized water blades."
He finally looked up, and his hollow eyes held nothing. "I'm exactly what they call me. Demon child. Monster. Killer. I just learned to be a useful monster. Learned to weaponize abilities for the government instead of using them on people who call me names. That's—that's the only difference between then and now."
"That's not true," Jimiko said, sitting beside him uninvited. "You lost your parents. Defending yourself. That's not being a demon. That's being a traumatized person who awakened abilities at the worst possible moment."
"Tell that to my village," Akuma replied. "Tell that to the people who watched me grow up. Who knew my family. Who loved us—until they saw what I did to the robber. Then I became a demon. Became thing to fear. Became a reason to whisper about curses and supernatural evil."
He pulled out his phone, showed them messages he'd been receiving since the posts went viral. Hundreds of them. All variations of the same theme: "Stay away from me demon" "You killed your own parents" "Monster wearing human skin" "Jeremy High accepts anyone, even murderers"
"This is what I am," Akuma said. "This is what I'll always be. Marked. Hollow. Demon who learned to pretend to be human but never quite manages it convincingly enough."
PART TWO: THE MEMORY THAT EXPLAINED EVERYTHING
Jimiko's apartment after school. He'd convinced Akuma to come—not to talk, not to be saved, just to exist somewhere that wasn't surrounded by people treating him like a monster.
They sat in silence for long time. Then Jimiko spoke: "I was marked too. Different marking. Different crime. But same isolation. Same sense of being fundamentally wrong in ways that can't be fixed."
Akuma looked at him with hollow curiosity. "What were you marked for?"
"Memory erasure," Jimiko said. "My cousin Letace developed technology that could erase memories. Tested it on me without consent. Erased three years of my life, including my parents' final words. When the memories started coming back fragmented and wrong, when I told people what happened—they didn't believe me. Said I was delusional. Said grief made me create conspiracy theories. Marked me as unreliable. As broken. As someone whose testimony couldn't be trusted."
"That's different from being called demon child," Akuma said.
"Is it?" Jimiko challenged gently. "Both of us were blamed for things we didn't control. Both of us learned that being marked—being seen as fundamentally wrong—changes how people treat you forever. Makes you either invisible or hypervisible depending on what's more convenient for them."
He pulled out old photos—newspaper clippings about Letace's arrest, about the memory manipulation case, about Jimiko's testimony being dismissed as "grief-induced delusion."
"They marked me as unreliable," Jimiko continued. "You were marked as a demon. Shoehead was marked as weird for eating shoes. Socksiku was marked as broken for eating socks. Riyura was marked as responsible for his father's crimes. We're all—we're all just people who got marked and learned to survive the marking."
"But I actually killed someone," Akuma said. "That's not false marking. That's accurate. I took a life. Used my abilities to make a human being suffer before they died. The robber—he was screaming. Begging. And I just—" His voice broke slightly. "—I just kept going. Kept draining moisture. Kept sharpening water into blades. Kept attacking until he stopped moving. Until my parents' murderer was dead."
"How old were you?" Jimiko asked. "Eight." "And the robber?"
"Adult. Thirty-something. Armed. Had already stabbed my parents multiple times. They were dead or dying when I found them. And he—he turned the knife on me. Said I was a witness. Said witnesses couldn't be left alive."
Akuma's hands clenched. "That's when my abilities activated. Pure terror. Pure rage. The contradiction of facing murder while desperately wanting my parents to be okay. Water from pipes burst. From the air itself condensed. And I—I killed him. Brutally. Efficiently. Like I'd been trained even though I had no training. Just instinct. Just abilities manifesting exactly when needed."
"Self-defense," Jimiko said firmly. "That's called self-defense. You were a person protecting yourself from a murderer."
"The crime scene didn't look like self-defense," Akuma replied. "It looked like massacre. Like supernatural evil. The robber's body—completely desiccated. Moisture gone. Skin like dried leather. And cuts—hundreds of cuts from pressurized water sharp enough to slice through bone. Police arrived. Saw me standing there. Covered in blood. Parents dead. Robber dead in ways that shouldn't be possible."
He closed his eyes. "They tried to process it rationally. Looked for evidence of accomplices. Of weapons. Of anything that explained how a person could do that. Found nothing. So they marked it 'unexplained supernatural incident' and closed the case. And my village—my village decided I was a demon. Decided I'd killed my own parents and the robber. Decided I was cursed."
"But you weren't," Jimiko insisted.
"Wasn't I?" Akuma opened his eyes, and they were still hollow but now with an edge of desperate a question. "I killed someone. Watched them suffer. Felt satisfaction when they finally stopped screaming. What does that make me if not a demon?"
"Human," Jimiko said simply. "Traumatized human who survived an impossible situation and then got blamed for surviving. That's—that's what Jeremy High is for. People like us. People who got marked and need a place where marking doesn't define everything."
Akuma was quiet for long time. Then: "Why are you helping me? I'm an agent sent to investigate and destroy your school. I'm an enemy. I'm—"
"You're a broken person being used by systems," Jimiko interrupted. "Same as me. Same as everyone at Jeremy High. Enemy or not, you deserve better than being called a demon child for the rest of your life."
PART THREE: THE CONFRONTATION THAT BROKE EVERYTHING
Thursday. School assembly. Mandatory attendance. Principal Jeremy stood at the podium looking older than ever, Hansamu standing beside him with an expression that suggested this assembly was his doing.
"Students," Principal Jeremy began, his voice heavy. "We need to address recent social media posts. Posts that have revealed private information about transfer student Akuma Kodomo. The administration condemns—"
"I asked for this assembly," Hansamu interrupted smoothly, stepping forward. "Because transparency is important. Because Jeremy High deserves to know who walks among them. Because—" His eyes found Akuma in the crowd. "—because demon people should be acknowledged, not hidden."
Murmurs rippled through the gymnasium. "That's enough," Principal Jeremy said firmly.
"Is it?" Hansamu challenged. "You've spent your entire career hiding things, Father. Hiding the 1876 truth. Hiding what happened to the first generation. Hiding why people with abilities exist. Hiding me when I became inconvenient. Maybe—maybe transparency is exactly what Jeremy High needs."
He pulled out a remote, activated the gymnasium's projection screen. Images appeared—old photographs, documents, historical records.
"Jeremy High's history began to be founded in 1876," Hansamu announced to the confused crowd. "By Poleheadedsandwich Jeremy the First. To protect three students who'd developed psychic abilities through trauma. Their names were Hikari Shiko, Yami Hakizage, and Kage Poleheadedsandwich."
The gymnasium went silent.
"These three students," Hansamu continued, "built something beautiful. A sanctuary for broken people. A place where trauma could be shared instead of hidden. A school that accepted students others rejected. For twenty years, they ran Jeremy High perfectly. Helped hundreds of students. Created system that actually worked."
He clicked to next slide. "Then they died. All three. On the same day. March 15th, 1896. Twenty years after founding the school. Their deaths were marked as a 'tragic accident.' Fire in the school building. Three casualties. No survivors."
Another slide. Crime scene photos—old, grainy, but clearly showing devastation.
"Except," Hansamu said, his voice dropping, "except it wasn't an accident. It was suicide. Murder-suicide. The three founders—the original students with abilities—they'd made a pact. Twenty years maintaining Jeremy High. Twenty years helping others while hiding their own despair behind administrative smiles. Twenty years performing functionality while drowning inside."
He looked directly at Principal Jeremy. "Tell them, Father. Tell them what really happened. Tell them why the first generation with abilities chose death over continuing to exist. Tell them the truth you've spent your entire life hiding."
Principal Jeremy stood frozen, tears streaming down his face.
"They couldn't take it anymore," Hansamu said when the principal didn't respond. "The abilities—the psychic pressure of hiding despair behind joy—it was destroying them. Making them hollow. Making them demons in human skin. So they made a choice. End it together. Burn down the school with them inside. Make their deaths mean something even if their lives felt meaningless."
He clicked to the final slide. A suicide note. Written in beautiful calligraphy:
"To future generations: If you carry abilities like ours, know that the price is high. The contradiction kills slowly. We lasted twenty years. We helped many. But we could not save ourselves. Jeremy High continues without us. Let it be sanctuary we could not be. Let it help the broken as we once did before we broke. Forgive us. —Hikari, Yami, Kage"
The gymnasium was completely silent.
"That's your legacy," Hansamu said to the students. "That's what Jeremy High was built on. Suicide. Hollow founders who hid despair so perfectly that nobody noticed they were dying inside until they literally burned themselves alive."
"That's enough!" Riyura shouted, standing. "That's—you can't just drop that on people! That's—"
"That's truth," Hansamu interrupted. "Truth my Father has been hiding from everyone and I've had enough of him doing so, because he's nothing but a freak who abandoned his son to protect some stupid dark legacy, and so I aim to expose him for his crimes in the process of my own revenge, because that is my revenge... you stupid dumb father. Truth that explains why people with abilities exist. Why we're marked as demons or weird or broken. Why we hide despair behind performance. Because the first generation did it. Perfected it. Died from it. And we're just—we're just repeating their pattern. And I aim to expose that corruption. To tear down Jeremy High, no matter the cost! Because this school is nothing but a building of a dumb legacy that tore my family life apart."
In the crowd, Owari Shi had started crying. Not sad crying. Desperate crying. Because her brother Heitā had just walked in—late to assembly, witnessing this revelation, and his expression was pure disgust as he looked at his sister's tears.
"You're pathetic," Heitā said loud enough for people nearby to hear. "Crying over dead strangers. Crying over everything. Can't you see you're exactly like them? Hollow. Performing. Demon pretending to be human. That's why I'll never accept you. You're not my sister. You're just—you're just an adopted charity case who cries at everything."
Owari's crying intensified. "Please. I just—I just want you to see me. Want you to—" "I see you," Heitā interrupted cruelly. "I see exactly what you are. And it disgusts me." He walked away, leaving his sister broken in the middle of the gymnasium while everyone watched.
Riyura moved to help her, but Miyaka was already there, holding Owari while she sobbed.
And Akuma—Akuma watched all of this with his hollow eyes and saw himself reflected in Owari's desperation, in the 1876 founders' suicide note, in everyone marked as a demon who performed humanity while dying inside.
"See?" Hansamu said quietly to Principal Jeremy. "See what hiding truth costs? Everyone suffers. Everyone performs. Everyone becomes exactly what the first generation became. Hollow demons waiting for permission to stop existing."
Principal Jeremy collapsed into a chair, the weight of decades of secret-keeping finally breaking him completely.
The assembly dissolved into chaos—students processing impossible revelations, teachers trying to maintain order, Hansamu standing victorious while his cape made him look like king surveying conquered kingdom.
And in the corner, unnoticed by most: Yakamira's voice playing from Riyura's phone, message sent just before assembly:
"Brother. The 1876 founders didn't just commit suicide. They did something else. Something Hansamu doesn't know yet. Something that explains why I'm alive. Find out the rest. The full truth. It's worse than Hansamu thinks. —Y.S."
EPILOGUE: THE DEMON WHO CHOSE HUMANITY
That evening. Jimiko's apartment again. Akuma had returned, drawn back to the one person treating him like a human instead of a monster.
"The founders were like me," Akuma said. "Hollow. Marked. Demons who learned to pretend. And they—they chose death over continuing to perform. That's—is that our future? All of us with abilities? Just slow suicide disguised as functionality?"
"No," Jimiko said firmly. "Because we have something they didn't. We have each other. Have found family. Have people who see us without requiring performance. The founders were alone together. We're actually together."
"You can't know that helps," Akuma argued.
"Can't I?" Jimiko pulled out his phone, showed Akuma messages. From Riyura checking on him. From Miyaka offering support. From Sotsuko providing strategic analysis of Hansamu's manipulation. From the entire friend group refusing to let anyone drown alone.
"You're marked as a demon child," Jimiko said. "I'm marked as unreliable. Riyura's marked as a survivor. We're all marked. But we're marked together. And that—that makes the marking bearable. Makes it not the only thing defining us."
Akuma was quiet. Then: "I don't know how to be part of a group. Don't know how to trust. Don't know how to—"
"Neither did Jisatsu," Jimiko interrupted. "He tried to destroy us and we still let him join. Neither did the founders, apparently, and they built an entire school around trying. You don't have to know how. You just have to try. That's all any of us are doing. Just trying."
"What if I hurt you?" Akuma whispered. "What if my abilities—what if I lose control and—"
"Then we help you regain control," Jimiko said simply. "That's what family does. Doesn't abandon you when things get hard. Doesn't mark you as demon and leave. Just—helps. Even imperfectly. Even inadequately. Just helps."
Akuma's hollow eyes filled with tears—first emotion Riyura or Jimiko had seen from him. "I've been called a demon for nine years. I don't—I don't remember what it feels like to be human."
"Then we'll remind you," Jimiko promised. "Every day. Until you remember. Until being human feels more real than being marked."
Later, Riyura received a text from Akuma: "Thank you. For not treating me like a demon. For seeing—for seeing something other than a monster. I'm still an agent. Still investigating. Still part of a system trying to shut you down. But I—I'll investigate honestly. Report what I actually find. That's all I can offer."
"That's enough," Riyura texted back. "That's always enough."
Two agents potentially turned. Three more to go. Four days until Hansamu's deadline. And Yakamira's cryptic warning about the 1876 truth being worse than anyone knew.
The Battle of Jeremy High was reaching its peak. And the worst revelations were still to come.
[NARRATOR: And so the demon child learns humanity is choice, not nature. The 1876 founders' suicide revealed. Owari's brother's cruelty displayed publicly. And Hansamu tightens his grip, revealing painful truths while holding Riyura's bow tie like a symbol of control. Next episode: Gurōbu's psychotic nature fully exposed. Shoehead and Socksiku face their nightmare mirror. And Headayami finally reveals his secrets about Komedi and the Shiko family legacy. The battle intensifies. History bleeds into present. Stay with us.]
TO BE CONTINUED...