VOLUME #4 - EPISODE 11
[CONTENT WARNING: MA17+]
[NARRATOR: Some conversations change everything. Some meetings determine the fate of everyone who wasn't invited. And some moments—rare, fragile, impossible moments—four broken people sit together and realize that destroying each other won't heal the wounds that made them weapons. Today, in an abandoned music room, four descendants of founder bloodlines meet. Today, Riyura and Yakamira face Hansamu and Komedi. Today, four abandoned sons decide whether abilities stay secret or get exposed. Whether Jeremy High survives or burns. Whether broken people can choose connection over mutual destruction. Welcome to the four abandoned sons. Welcome to the conversation that saves or destroys everything.]
PART ONE: THE GATHERING OF BLOODLINES
Sunday. 10:47 AM. Old music room where Keiko had his Vienna breakdown, where performances became torture, where broken things went to either heal or shatter completely.
Riyura entered with Yakamira beside him—his impossible brother who looked exactly as he had two months ago, carrying government secrets and weight of death experienced on infinite loop.
Hansamu was already there, standing with his ridiculous cape making him look like a king preparing for war. His earrings caught the morning light—silver studs representing a burden of abandonment. Riyura's red bow tie was still in his pocket, a visible reminder of the control he'd been claiming.
And beside Hansamu stood Komedi Kirā Shiko—purple hair like Riyura's but styled differently, star-shaped pupils but sharper somehow, expression holding hatred mixed with a desperate exhaustion of someone who'd spent their entire life being angry and was finally, impossibly tired of it.
[RIYURA'S INTERNAL MONOLOGUE: Four of us. Four Shiko bloodline descendants. Four people abandoned by family in different ways—me by Father's hatred, Yakamira by Father's knife, Komedi by Father's complete rejection, Hansamu by Principal Jeremy's fear. Four broken weapons meeting to decide if we destroy everything or try something different. No pressure. Just—the fate of every person with abilities hanging on whether four traumatized teenagers can have an honest conversation without killing each other. Totally normal Sunday morning.]
"You came," Hansamu said, genuine surprise in his voice.
"You offered conversation," Riyura replied. "We're here to talk. Honestly. Without manipulation. Without abilities. Just—four people deciding what happens next."
"Four abandoned sons," Komedi corrected bitterly. "Let's not pretend we're 'just people.' We're all products of Shiko bloodline curse. All carriers of abilities that made our families reject us. All broken by legacies we never chose."
"Then we understand each other," Yakamira said calmly, his analytical voice somehow reassuring. "We all carry the same wounds. Just—different variations. Different abandonments. Different ways family destroyed us."
Hansamu gestured to chairs arranged in a circle—deliberate setup suggesting he'd planned this carefully. "Sit. We have—" He checked his phone. "—approximately eight hours before my scheduled exposure goes live. Eight hours to decide if we stop it or let it happen. Eight hours for four bloodline descendants to determine whether abilities stay secret or become public knowledge that destroys everyone who has them. Or maybe the entire world. Because we're basically holding the entire world at are fingertips."
They sat—careful distances maintained, no one fully trusting, everyone ready to activate abilities if this conversation turned violent. Well except for Yakamira, unless he uchieved earning his abilties... at the right time.
"Ground rules," Hansamu said. "No abilities. No manipulation—physical or psychic. No lying about why we're here or what we want. Just—honesty. Even if honesty hurts. Even if admitting truth makes us vulnerable. Agreed?"
"Agreed," the others said simultaneously.
"Then I'll start," Hansamu said. "I'll explain why I want to expose abilities. Why I think Jeremy High should burn. Why I believe keeping abilities secret is cruelty disguised as protection."
He stood, pacing slightly, his cape swirling with unnecessary drama that somehow fit the moment's weight.
"I was seven when my abilities manifested," Hansamu began. "Psychic manipulation. Subtle influence over thoughts. I didn't understand what it was—just knew I could make people more agreeable, more susceptible to suggestions, more likely to believe me. And I—I used it accidentally. Made Principal Jeremy agree to things he normally wouldn't. Made him more affectionate. Made him—" His voice broke. "—made him love me instead of letting him choose naturally."
"When he realized," Hansamu continued, "when he understood I'd been unconsciously manipulating him—he was horrified. Said I was dangerous. Said an ability to control thoughts made me a monster. Said he couldn't raise someone who might manipulate him into decisions he'd regret. So he sent me away. To government care. To training programs that weaponized my manipulation instead of teaching me to control it safely."
"I spent ten years," Hansamu said quietly, "ten years being told I was a weapon. Being trained to use manipulation for government operations. Being made into an agent who could influence targets, extract information, make people believe things that weren't true. And I—I accepted it. Because at least being weapon meant being useful. Being a weapon meant having purpose even if that purpose was monstrous."
He looked at them with desperate eyes. "That's why I want to expose abilities. Not just for revenge on Principal Jeremy for abandoning me. But proof that abilities don't make us special. They make us dangerous. They make us into weapons that families reject and governments weaponize. Exposing abilities means admitting what we really are. Means stopping the lie that powers are gifts instead of curses. Even if I die as well in the process like all you morons."
The room was quiet for moment. Then Komedi spoke:
"My turn," Komedi said, his British accent sharp with barely controlled rage. "I'll explain why I hate Riyura. Why I want the legitimate Shiko family destroyed. Why—why I've spent my entire life being angry at people who didn't know I existed."
He stood, mimicking Hansamu's pacing. "I lived in Britain. Product of Riyura's Father's leaving me and never visitng again because my parents always hated me and he never wanted to get involved in that kinda trouble, because he had his own buisness to deal with back at home. Specifically the organization. My parents saw me as the blame for their closest friend leaving and the only friend that provided for us more often than usual, and blamed me for everything even more and my life soon became a living hell more than before after. A hell that lasted almost a decade. With purple hair and star pupils that marked me as Shiko bloodline. And—Riyazo Shiko—he paid for my care but never acknowledged me. Never visited. Never called. Just—sent money and forgot I existed entirely. And so are story basically ended. And his moving stopped the providing which would cause that trouble for me with the money stuff. And my parents hated me even more over time as the cops said they were not aloud to take the money sent to me because Riyazo payed the cops to make sure only I got it, because he knew what was happening while he was gone and my parents didn't at first but eventually did find out the reasoning while only I seemed to get money and got protected by many cops when they didn't. But what were they gonna do about it. And they only had their job to worry about with their own money. But always had the time to continue blaming me for their desperate need for money though anyways. And so the pain never stopped. And I also knew he really felt easy to leave to, because he never actually loved me to begin with like my own parents."
"When I was eight," Komedi continued, "I developed abilities. Blue energy. Stars. Mask. Everything that marks Shiko bloodline with powers. And I thought—I thought if I showed him, if I proved I was special, if I demonstrated I had abilities like the legendary founders—maybe he'd acknowledge me. Maybe he'd bring me to Japan. Maybe he'd—" His voice broke. "—maybe he'd love me."
"So I called him," Komedi said. "Video call. Showed him my abilities. Begged him to acknowledge me as his own son because I only wanted real parents who cared for me like he used to. And he—he laughed. Said I was a bastard child with some party trick. Said abilities didn't make me family. Said he had two sons already and didn't need a British mistake complicating things in his troubled life. Then he hung up. And I—I broke. Completely. The desperate need for acknowledgment turned into hatred so profound it shaped everything after."
He looked directly at Riyura. "I hate you because you had everything I wanted. Father's attention—even if it was hatred, it was attention. A brother who cared about you. Jeremy High accepting you. Friends surrounding you. You had family—broken family, terrible family, but family—while I had nothing. Just payments and silence and Headayami assigned to watch me like I was a problem that needed monitoring. Your news articles showed it all from my locations at those times. Stuff with you just accidently being there in the background... or about you entirely."
"That's why I joined Hansamu," Komedi finished. "Why I want abilities exposed. Why I want Jeremy High destroyed. Because if I can't have a family, if I can't have some acknowledgment, if I can't have the things already sons get—then I'll burn it all down. Make everyone who rejected me regret they didn't choose me when they had a chance."
Another silence. Heavier this time. Then Yakamira spoke:
"My turn," Yakamira said with his characteristic analytical calm that somehow made everything he said hit harder. "I'll explain what being preserved feels like. What experiencing death for two months does to someone. Why—why I think both of you are right and wrong simultaneously."
He didn't stand. Just sat perfectly still while explaining impossible truths.
"Father stabbed me," Yakamira began. "Knife to the heart. Surgical precision. Intent to kill. I died in Riyura's arms. That's fact. That happened. I experienced death—felt my heart stop, felt consciousness fade, felt everything that makes someone alive just—end."
"Then preservation activated," Yakamira continued. "Trapped me in a moment of death experiencing it infinitely. For two months I died continuously. Felt the knife repeatedly. Felt life leave repeatedly. Felt everything end repeatedly without actually ending. That's what preservation does. That's what the founders created thinking it was mercy. It's not. It's torture disguised as salvation. And the government used it as a way to research me in many ways for their own good."
"But," Yakamira said, and his voice shifted slightly, "but I'm also grateful. Because preservation meant I could come back. Meant when Komedi's presence triggered the exit condition, I could return. Could escape death-loop and resume living. Could see Riyura again. Could exist again. Even if existence means carrying memory of infinite death, it's—it's better than not existing at all."
He looked at Hansamu and Komedi. "You're right that abilities are curses. Right that they make families reject us. Right that preservation technique is torture. But you're wrong that exposing abilities helps. Wrong that destruction heals abandonment. Wrong that making everyone with powers into targets somehow makes the suffering more bearable."
"Exposing abilities," Yakamira said firmly, "doesn't prove we're monsters. It proves governments will treat us as monsters. Doesn't make families love us retroactively. Makes new families impossible because everyone with powers becomes marked. Doesn't end the curse. Just—spreads it. Makes everyone with abilities into abandoned sons. Makes everyone into us. People seen as monsters to the entire world. Because that's modern world thinking for you. No matter how much someone loves you with them. The truth is always massive when it comes to this topic. That you are someone who could destroy an entire household on accident, or a nation if you lost control if fate decided it. Someone capable of doing things nobody else can do that might change who you are as person, and worry the people who see you for who you are around you."
Final silence. Then Riyura spoke:
"My turn," Riyura said, and despite everything—despite the weight of this conversation, despite the fate of everyone with abilities hanging in the balance—he felt something like his old comedy returning. Not as armor. As genuine personality. As proof that surviving horror didn't mean losing himself.
"I'll be honest," Riyura began. "I didn't know either of you existed until recently. Didn't know Father had nephews he left that actually cared for him. Didn't know Principal Jeremy adopted a manipulator who could control thoughts. Didn't know—didn't know the legitimate family I thought was just us was actually a fragment of a much larger bloodline curse stretching back to the 1876 founders. And is somehow connected to a mythical fairy tale in many ways. Because me hearing about that allowed me to continue knowing all of this moving forward."
He leaned forward. "And I'm sorry. Genuinely sorry. Sorry Father abandoned you, Komedi. Sorry you grew up desperate for some acknowledgment that never came. Sorry Principal Jeremy sent you away, Hansamu. Sorry you were made into a weapon instead of being taught to control abilities safely. Sorry both of you suffered because of some bloodline and families that rejected you for having powers."
"But," Riyura continued, "but destroying Jeremy High doesn't fix that. Exposing abilities doesn't heal those wounds. Making everyone with powers into government targets doesn't make your abandonment hurt less. It just—it just makes more abandoned people. Makes more people like us. Makes more broken weapons."
He pulled out his phone, showed them messages. "Joyū Kanashī tried to kill himself last week. Online harassment for being an actor. He survived because we found him. Because Jeremy High gave him a sanctuary where being broken was acceptable. Pan Kissā bakes at 4 AM to preserve his dead parents' dream. Would lose his bakery if the government marks him as an ability-user threat. Owari Shi performs for millions trying to earn her brother's love. Would become a specimen if powers were exposed."
"All of them," Riyura said, "all the broken people at Jeremy High—they'd lose their sanctuary if you expose abilities. They'd become targets. Become demons marked by governments instead of just villages. Become us. Is that what you want? More people suffering the way we suffered?"
"What's the alternative?" Hansamu demanded. "Keep abilities secret? Keep letting families abandon people who develop powers? Keep letting the preservation technique torture people who die at this school? Keep—keep pretending Jeremy High is a sanctuary instead of a sophisticated prison?"
"The alternative," Riyura said firmly, "is we break the cycle differently. We use our positions—use being abandoned people, use being bloodline descendants, use being weapons who understand what that means—we use that to change things. Change how families like ours treat people with abilities. Change how preservation works. Change how the government handles ability users. Change everything from inside instead of exposing it and hoping destruction brings some kind of improvement."
"That's naive," Komedi said.
"That's hope," Riyura corrected. "That's a choice to believe that broken stuff can be fixed instead of needing to be burned down. That's—that's what Jeremy High actually represents. Not a perfect sanctuary. Not some torture prison. Just—a place where broken people try to fix things while acknowledging everything's broken."
PART TWO: THE CHOICE THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
They sat in silence processing impossible options. Eight hours until exposure. Eight hours to decide whether abilities stayed secret or became public knowledge that destroyed everyone who had them.
"I want to show you something," Yakamira said suddenly, pulling out the stolen government tablet. "Something I found in the files. Something that—that might change your perspective."
He activated the tablet, showed them a specific document. Letter written in 1896 by the founders right before their death.
"To whoever finds this: We are dying. Our abilities have consumed us. We've become demons wearing human skin. We created the preservation technique hoping to escape suffering while remaining available if Jeremy High needs us. We were wrong. Preservation isn't mercy. It's curse. Whoever reads this—whoever carries our bloodline forward—please learn from our mistake. Don't let abilities define you. Don't let powers make you into weapons. Don't let suffering be your only legacy. Choose connection over isolation. Choose found family over blood family. Choose hope even when hope seems foolish. That's—that's the only way to break the curse. Not through destruction. Through stubborn refusal to let bloodline trauma be the only story you tell. —Hikari, Yami, Kage"
The room was completely silent.
"They knew," Hansamu whispered. "The founders knew that preservation was a curse. Knew abilities destroyed people. Knew bloodline carried trauma. And they—they still chose connection. Still built sanctuary. Still tried helping people even knowing it wouldn't fix everything."
"They tried breaking the cycle," Komedi said quietly. "Failed. Created a torture technique instead. Created a curse that trapped them for many years. But they—they tried. They chose hope even when hope was foolish."
"That's what I'm asking you to choose," Riyura said. "Not perfection. Not a solution that fixes everything. Just—hope. Foolish hope. Stubborn refusal to let abandonment and bloodline curses and preservation torture be the only story we tell. Hope that maybe—maybe we can break the cycle differently than destruction."
Hansamu stood, walked to the window, cape swirling. For a long moment he just stared outside at Jeremy High's grounds—at students arriving for Sunday activities, at broken people finding sanctuary, at an imperfect place that tried helping despite being a sophisticated curse disguised as education.
"I have a confession," Hansamu said finally. "I wasn't just planning to expose abilities to destroy Father's legacy. I was—I was planning to expose them because I'm tired. Tired of hiding. Tired of pretending manipulation is useful instead of monstrous. Tired of living as a weapon. Tired of—" His voice broke completely. "—tired of being unwanted. I thought if everyone knew abilities existed, if everyone saw us as demons—at least we'd be acknowledged. At least people would see us instead of pretending we don't exist."
"I just wanted to be seen," Hansamu admitted. "Wanted Principal Jeremy to see me as I really am—a monster he created by sending me away instead of helping me control powers. Wanted the world to see that abilities aren't gifts. Wanted—wanted acknowledgment even if acknowledgment was horror. Because horror is still attention. Still being noticed. Still—still mattering."
Komedi stood, walked to Hansamu, put a hand on his half-brother's shoulder. "I understand. I've been doing the same thing my entire life. Trying to matter. Trying to earn acknowledgment through being powerful enough that Riyura's Father couldn't ignore me. Through being angry enough that l could become legitamate family. Through—through anything except accepting that maybe I already mattered and family was just too broken to see it."
"What if," Yakamira said carefully, "what if we offered an alternative? What if instead of exposing abilities to force acknowledgment from families who abandoned us—we created new family? Found family that acknowledges us without requiring destruction? Family that sees us as people instead of weapons or demons or abandoned sons?"
"You're offering us Jeremy High," Hansamu said. "a sanctuary that we're trying to destroy."
"I'm offering you friends," Riyura corrected. "I'm offering you a choice to be part of something instead of destroying everything. I'm offering you—offering you what the founders tried building before abilities consumed them. Connection. Real connection. People who see you as human despite powers. Despite your manipulation ability. Despite hatred. Despite everything to."
"Why?" Komedi demanded. "Why offer that to people trying to destroy you? Why not just fight us? Use your abilities? Prove you're stronger?"
"Because," Riyura said simply, "because you're my nephew. You're family. Even if Father abandoned you. Even if we didn't know each other existed. You're still—you're still connected to me through bloodline. And family—real family—doesn't abandon people even when they're trying to destroy everything."
"And because," Yakamira added, "because I died and came back. Spent two months experiencing death infinitely. And the only thing that made returning worth it—the only thing that made suffering bearable—was knowing people waited for me. People who'd miss me. People who wanted me back. That's—that's what breaks curses. Not destruction. Connection."
Hansamu pulled out his phone—the one controlling the scheduled exposure. His finger hovered over the cancel button.
"If I stop this," Hansamu said, "if I cancel exposure—what happens to us? To me and Komedi? Do we just—what? Join Jeremy High like normal students? Pretend we weren't trying to destroy everything?"
"You become apart of are friend group," Miyaka's voice said from doorway. Everyone spun. The entire friend group stood there—they'd been listening, had followed, had heard everything.
"You become family," Subarashī added. "Broken family. Weird family. Family that includes shoe-eaters and sock-eaters and people with psychic powers and preserved brothers who experienced death infinitely. But family. Real family. Chosen family."
"You don't have to earn it," Jimiko said quietly. "Don't have to prove you're worthy. Don't have to stop being angry or broken or hurt. Just—just have to choose connection over destruction. Choose trying over giving up. Choose us."
Hansamu stared at them. At these impossible people offering impossible acceptance. At the sanctuary he'd been trying to destroy offering him place in it. His finger hovered over the cancel button.
"Komedi?" Hansamu asked his half-brother. "What do you think? Do we—do we try? Do we choose hope even when hope seems foolish?"
Komedi looked at Riyura—at the legitimate son who'd gotten everything Komedi wanted, who was now offering connection instead of fighting, who was treating him as family despite hatred and attempted destruction.
"We try," Komedi said finally. "We—we try the foolish hope. Try the found family. Try breaking the curse differently than our ancestors did. We try." Hansamu pressed cancel.
The scheduled exposure vanished. The stream shut down. The countdown stopped.
Abilities would stay secret. Jeremy High would survive. And four abandoned sons would become something different—would become found family learning to exist without destroying each other.
EPILOGUE: THE BEGINNING OF A DIFFERENT STORY
Later that day. Pan's bakery. Hansamu and Komedi sat awkwardly with the entire friend group, eating bread that tasted like grief disguised as comfort, learning what family felt like when family chose you instead of rejecting you.
"This is weird," Hansamu admitted, his cape folded beside him, Riyura's bow tie returned to its owner. "I spent months planning destruction. And now I'm—I'm eating bread with people I was trying to hurt. This is very weird."
"Welcome to Jeremy High," Riyura said with a genuine smile. "Where everything's weird and broken but we survive anyway. Where government agents become allies. Where abandoned sons become brothers. Where preservation curses get explained through stolen government files. Where—where hope is foolish but we choose it anyway."
"What happens now?" Komedi asked. "The other agents—Shinda, Akuma, Gurōbu—they're still here. Still investigating. Still reporting to the government. What—what do we do about them?"
"We reach them too," Yakamira said calmly. "Same way we reached you. We offer connection instead of isolation. We show them sanctuary is worth protecting. We prove that broken people can heal together instead of destroying each other."
"That's ambitious," Hansamu said. "That's Jeremy High," everyone replied simultaneously.
Riyura's phone buzzed. Text from Principal Jeremy: "Thank you. For saving the school. For reaching my son. For proving that hope works even when hope is foolish. For being exactly what the founders wanted Jeremy High to produce—broken people who choose connection. I'm proud of you. —P.J."
And another text, from an unknown number: "This is the preservation technique. I watched everything. I'm—I'm glad the exposure was cancelled. Glad you chose hope. Glad abandonment wasn't your only story. The founders would be proud. I'll keep protecting the Shiko bloodline. Keep offering second chances. Keep being a curse disguised as salvation until someone figures out how to break me properly. Thank you for trying. —The Preservation."
"The preservation technique is texting you?" Miyaka asked, reading over Riyura's shoulder.
"Apparently the technique is sentient and has feelings about our choices," Riyura replied. "This is—this is my life now. Sentient curses sending emotional texts. Dead brothers returning with government files. Abandoned nephews joining friend groups. Government agents becoming allies. This is extremely normal. But let me guess that they knew this would happen considering their history. And they backed up this text to me before their ending came to a close, because I feel like they probably knew this would happen and I'm not suprised they managed something as impossible as this as well. Just like the creation of such a thing as Jeremy High itself. The founders of Jeremy High. Wow... what amazing people they were."
"This is Jeremy High," everyone said again, laughing this time—genuine laughter, not performance, just broken people finding joy in the absurdity of their existence.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges. The remaining agents to reach. The preservation curse to understand better. The government's continued interest to navigate. The founder bloodlines to reconcile with. All of it.
But today—today four abandoned sons had chosen connection over destruction. Had chosen hope over revenge. Had chosen found family over blood family that rejected them.
And that—that was enough. That was always enough. And as they had fun a mysterious shadow watched from a corner from a distance from the bakery, hidden from their view with a smile on thier face. With power swirling around them to. Almost like time energy itself.
[NARRATOR: And so the four abandoned sons choose hope. The exposure cancelled. Jeremy High saved. Hansamu and Komedi joining the found family. The preservation technique revealed as a sentient entity that approved of their choice, and Riyura could tell just by looking and everybody knew just by looking as well because of the information piled up and piecing it together along with this message. Next episode: The finale. The final confrontation with remaining agents. Muzaki and Kaiju's resolution. More complete history of the 1876 founders story revealed. And the bridge to the next series—Jeremy High: 1876—where the founders' full story begins but somehow influenced by Riyura in emotional ways. One episode remains. The end approaches. Stay with us.]
TO BE CONTINUED...