Lonely Influence - Chapter 19: Firework Boy - ROUTES

Nine. Years. Ago.

The cast of sunlight hits the back of his head as it sneaks in by the room's window, his short hair glows like horizons of a gleaming mountain. For once, he was at peace, or he used to be. Everyday. He mumbles a few unintelligible words, having fun to himself with the two toys his mother brought him a few days ago.

"Narasao, let's go take a shower! You'll be late for the first day of school."

Narasao looked up to his mother with a glint to his eyes, as he nodded immediately, dropped his toys, and stood up to his feet with a pout and then ran to his mother for a warm and lovely hug. "Mommy, can I take a shower with you? Pleaseee?" He says as he curled up his head to look up to his mother. She smiled widely to his request as she caressed his head. "Of course I will." She said happily as they both went to take a shower, together with one another. It was a fun, limited time; showering with a mother, then getting helped put on clothes and your uniform, then greeting your father who just came back to work early to attend your first day of school and your big sister joining in the fun. It was a perfect family. While it lasted.

With everyone prepared, they left the house with giggles and excitement on their faces. This is Narasao's first day of school at seven years old after all. On their way, they were greeted by their religious neighbor. "Hey there, going out so early?" She asked, as the mother smiled back and responded back. "Yes, we are going for Narasao's first day of school. Are you coming, miss idila?" She said, but Miss Idila shook her head in disagreement. "Sorry but I can't join. I have to attend the church today to praise the lord as we speak. May god bless you all to your destination." The neighbour said in a soft tone, smiling at the mother as she made a sign of the cross, before looking down to Narasao and bending down to pinch his cheek. "What a cute little boy... going to your first day of school? May god bless the rest of your school days too." She says as Narasao laughs heartedly, as the family then leaves to drive off to school, waving at the neighbour as they take their leave.

Everyone is in the car; His mother, sister, and even his father. Everyone came, and he was happy, and couldn't help but smile wide. It was as if he just had been on a fun roller coaster, but this one was softer and warmer than anything. But what he anticipated the most... is a firework show that his parents promised him to see. "Hehe, I'm gonna see fireworks for the first time!" He said to himself, and his mother and father heard it as they smiled warmly at the thought, thinking "He's so excited..."

He likes the colors of fireworks, the way it gleams and shines in the shadow of midnight dark, and the way it brings smiles to faces no matter how dangerous it is up close... Inside that car, he was the one with the most of excitement. He was already trembling so much that he couldn't wait, almost kicking the door open. But he can't help but giggle.

Time passed, and they reached the Little Caliphs Kindergarten of Taman Tuanku Jaafar, Seremban. It was a school full of life, with many new children waiting to learn about the world. The sounds you can hear here are nothing but joyful laughs of little voices and adults laughing with their children. Narasao stepped in, and smiled widely with a gasp. This is perfect, he thought. His imagination is already thinking about how fireworks will make this school much more colorful.

His sister stepped in front of him and grabbed his wrist before pulling him into the crowd of little voices. "Come on! Let's play!" Narasao followed along with overjoyed giggles as the two children went to have friends with the others. The parents of children and their own are at the edge watching them with smiles on their faces, unable to help but be heart warmed. After all, they are all glad they reached this point in their lives to witness their children of seven years finally meet up with the world...

"You're it! Hahaha!"

"Come here, I'm going to bite you all over!"

"Oh no! A zombie! Haha!"

"Hahahaha!"

"Narasao, don't run around or you'll trip!"

"Yes mommy!"

"Come on, come on!"

That's right. In their little world masked by joy, there was nothing but laughs and fun. And that was it. It would take a few more years before they can begin to take steps closer to what their parents began to experience... but that's not important right now—Narasao is having the time of his life with everything with him. Time passes by for more, but it feels like forever. He wanted to see fireworks, but this one was just as fun... while it lasted.

Time... passes by, and Narasao hears a loud and sharp, percussive sound from the distance. The sound wasn't that loud, and everyone remained unfazed by it when it happened. Seems like no one heard it except him. He decided to just shrug it off before running to his mother with a wide grin. "Mommy, I'm gonna go pee pee!" He said outloud, as his mother chuckled and pats his head. "Okay, don't take too long, okay? If you do, you'll miss out on the fireworks we are about to prepare for you and everyone!" She said, and Narasao's eyes lit up at the thought with a gasp. "It's coming?! Okay! I'm gonna go and pee fast!" He said as he hugged his mom tightly one last time before running off to go to the public restroom, never looking back. Ever.

He entered the school and ran around to look for the bathroom, his shoes tapping the tiles as it slid. Even with just him, he continues to smile, and he's more than just happy—he's excited. He can't wait any longer, but this is a challenge given just for him, and he wants to succeed if it means that he gets the first time experience.

He ran around, greeted by other teachers, laughed along with other children he met along the way. He wants to ask if they are also excited about the upcoming fireworks, but he just couldn't hold his pee pee any longer.

Soon, he finds the bathroom, panting a little before going in and taking his pee time. "If they actually started the fireworks show, I hope I can still hear it from here!" He says excitedly and hopingly, giggling to himself. He's so excited that he rushed to relieve himself. Minutes later, he finished relieving himself and left the bathroom with, of course, washed hands. He made a few giggles, he's more excited than ever. There's no sound about fireworks yet, and that's either because it's too far for his ears to reach or it just hasn't started yet. So out of excitement, he ran to leave the school, as he ran through the hallways halfway down from the bathroom, with no one around than usual, and heard… the first firework sound.

"BANG"

It was loud and clear, and he heard it. His eyes grew wide, the sound of that 'bang' didn't sound anything like a firework, thinking that maybe it's just a different type. "They already started?? Wait for me! I wanna see!" He chuckled once more as he ran through the hall, with each step making another bang, and another, and another… the closer he got to it, the more he became confused—the sharp percussive sounds are not anything like fireworks, and it was constant. There was more bang after another, and then another, and more and more… not to mention, it was accompanied by pale yet loud screams.

He can see the exit, it's just a few meters in front of him, but he stopped running and decided to just walk towards it. The fireworks… didn't sound right at all. He became nervous, perhaps getting frightened. The closer he is to the exit, the more he can hear those screams, and the louder the sounds become… it was as if they exploded too close… way too close.

But then, his eyes grew wide, surprised, and he smiled just as wide—his mother appeared at the doorway of the exit. Her movements seemed… clumsy. But that didn't matter, because he wanted to show his gratitude, no matter how twisted the sound of the fireworks sounded.

He ran to his mother with pure joy, and threw himself to her while hugging her tightly, and she hugged him back, bringing him to her embrace. "Thank you, mommy! You really brought the fireworks like you and daddy promised! Thank you!" He innocently shows his gratitude to his mother as he hugged her tightly, but then, he felt something and decided to pull back. "Mommy? Why does it feel like your body is wet…" He muttered as he slowly looked down to look at his hand, and noticed red liquid had covered his palm. "Ketchup…? They feel too shallow for a ketchup. Mommy, why did you cover yourself with ketchup?" He asks as he lifts his head to look up to his mother. Her face was a silhouette, it was shadowy because of the sunlight behind her.

He can feel her smiling at him, thinking that she's just playing around, until she suddenly collapses into his shoulder and slips into the ground, and Nomoro is startled as he looks down to look at her face… and he can't help but look in horror. "Mom…? Why do you look scary…?"

…her face is lifeless and filled with red liquid and her eyes are left open without movement. That's what Narasao saw. And so, after losing the voice of his mother, he began to hear other voices as well, voices that began to disappear each second a sharp percussive sound was unleashed… he slowly turned his head, and what saw was unfolded; 'ketchup' splattered all around the ground, people running around with some holding their lifeless children and some with 'toy' guns, and many other things like children and adults collapsing, others try to fight back but getting shot right after, and some of the people causing the ruckus began the irreversible things like child decapitation. Screams of terror wrapped Narasao's ear like a lingering thought. He's a seven year old child… witnessing hell.

He ran, and ran, all around the blood-covered school, watching as each of the people he knew or just met died before his eyes, he was left baffled and shocked in a horrific way, and he can even hear the screams of his play mates die slowly… the sounds that were occurring was just too unbearable, it's too much. Too much. He can't handle this all… at such a young age.

He continued to keep running, trying to avoid

danger until he suddenly tripped into his father's corpse. He was holding his only daughter, Narasao's only sister, who is just as lifeless as the others. He was frightened at the sight that he backed away, shaking his head, refusing to process this information for crying out loud. Everyone's faces looked scary like never before… If this was Halloween, he hopes it is.

"Find the Symbol of Loneliness!"

"Wahahahaha!!!"

"Killed everyone?"

"Heck yeah we did, but we ain't got no notification. Y'all sure we killed it?"

"The Wealth Man promised us a fortune for this, don't tell me we got scammed."

It took only ten minutes and a half before the screams died out and no one was left behind. Everything that was left are the people that caused it themselves, standing 'Proudly' as they laughed among themselves, and some were disappointed or upset that nothing has happened yet. They thought they had killed everyone, until one of them noticed something. "Hey, look at that kid. It's still alive!" They said, as one of them took a step forward to narrow their eyes for a closer look—they saw Narasao. "Freaking hell. I shot that little shit earlier—wait, that must be the freaking Symbol of Loneliness!" They laughed in a sinister way as they began to approach Narasao with ulterior intent, who was on his knees, on the ground surrounded by nothing but death and terror and horror.

His expression is unreadable, his eyes were unseen because of the shadows provided by his hair. The shooters got closer, one of them was sure they shot Narasao, but he survived somehow. "How the freak did this thing survive… the so-called indomitable human spirit type of bullshit? This ain't no fantasy if this is the Dawn Romantica!" The shooters laughed at that remark given by one of them, approaching dangerously close. One of them decided to get even closer to Narasao, stopping in front of him with an arrogant grin. "Hoy, you dead?" He asked, he got no answer, and this only irritates him. "Hoy! I'm talking to you goddammit–" His last words before getting absolutely obliterated by Narasao's demonic arm swing in an instant.

All of the shooters flinched in shock as they watched their comrade getting eradicated from existence at just one swing. Suddenly, the original child they see as vulnerable is now a demon.

"What the heck?!"

"He already unlocked his Prophelity! Fall back, fall back!!!"

"That freaking early?!"

They try to retreat, and some try to attack, but they are already caught by Narasao's rage at his Prophelity Auto-Defence Mode. And a Prophelity… is a power that only occurs within a Prophecy Being once their fate has been interrupted.

"Whoa hey, is that a demon child?"

"It's not Halloween yet, right…? It's way too early for that."

"There's blood all around his arms down to the hands… I hope that's just prop."

"Heh, I know a few autistic brats who do this for attention because they're so 'lonely.'"

"But he looks so gloomy and depressed… no child at that age can make expressions like that."

So many people are talking about him. They couldn't tell whether what's walking in the middle of the road, with half of his face covered with a demon skull mask and dragging his large and heavy demonic right arm that's covered with blood, is a human child thinking it's Halloween or an actual demon with half of its demonic body exposed to the naked eye. They all muttered within themselves about the sight of such beings, some even threw disgust and disdain glances at him. They wanted to believe this is just some random child confusing today as an event, but the details that the child is carrying is way too real… not to mention how he moves, that look on his face, the way he drags his arm like it was actually heavy, is all too realistic.

Some even laughed at the child, some judged, and some kept muttering more and more until they recognized the scent of blood in the child's demonic arm. That's right. It's too realistic for it to be just a bloody prop. And moreover… The blood is trailing the street as he passes by slowly.

"What should I do…? Everyone is… i-is… i… I don't know… I don't know what happened to them. They stopped moving and their faces were too weird, too creepy… and my arm grew big, dark, and scary. What do I look like?"

He continued to walk as he speaks to his own world, ignoring the other world that's currently criticising his very existence. Without knowing it, people began to make and spread rumors and theories grounded to this child, because an hour ago, a kindergarten school was attacked… and this child in front of their eyes must be part of it. It was a school shooting incident, but even the shooters were discovered dead as well.

"My face feels heavy, it's like there's something in my face… I want mommy to take off whatever is in my face, and I kept calling for her when I wanted to, but she didn't follow me all the way here… Is she still laying on the floor inside the building? I hope someone wakes her up, I'm hungry…"

He continued further in his journey tainted by blood in his bare hands. Some with curious minds wanted to approach the little demon, but they were soon stopped from getting closer because they felt something was off. Yeah, there's something wrong about this child. Rumors spread like wildfire, the intelligent connecting the dots, and the curious ones started making even more theories. There's a demon that's currently active, it's walking down the road.

"I feel so lonely… where's daddy? I thought he promised me that he'd come for me when I'm lost. I'm lost right now. I forgot the way back home, and mommy said to rely on him for directions. He would even lift me to his shoulders so he can do the moving for me and my sister."

Rumors spread even wider, from houses to villages, from villages to towns, from towns to cities. The hospital has taken the victims of the kindergarten school shooting incident to their place, and unfortunately, they were all reported dead from gun wounds and even worse and severe conditions unimaginable. The killers? Most of their bodies, each of them, are all completely obliterated to a point where treatment was 100% impossible. They don't know what happened, and that made the curiosity of others fall into the hands of this brutal information.

And Narasao stopped for a moment, feeling something was wet in his arms down to his hands. He slowly lifted his arms close to for his tired, gloom eyes to see. He noticed it is all covered by… "Ketchup… it's covering both my arms, and this demon arm too. They don't smell anything like ketchup. I thought ketchup was used for food, so why is it covering my arms like I dipped my arms into it… they're also stinky, they smell like poopy, or something close. I don't like the smell. I have to get cleaned. Mommy should get me cleaned… or Auntie Idila… Yes, where does she live again…? Why do I feel so tired too…"

He lifted his head slowly, and looked around with eyes wide. Suddenly, he realized that he was too tired. He doesn't know what happened, in fact, how did he even end up walking in the middle of the streets? That's a question that should come later, answered later. That's right. He must find where Auntie Idila lives. Though there was a particular building that seems oddly familiar—that probably leads to where Auntie Idila lives.

"G-get out! Get out!! Help!!! There's a demon!"

Narasao had just opened the door of his Auntie's, and what he saw… was the same old woman who he blessed not so long ago. He fell to the ground, holding a kitchen knife that looked like it was used recently because there's onion particles around it. It was all too confusing and terrifying for him. He had expected that she would calmly and softly let him in and maybe clean him, but there's this vulnerable and terrified look on her face that terrifies him as well.

"Auntie it's me… it's Narasao…!"

"St-stay back!!"

The closer he tried to approach, the more she backed away. She pointed her knife at him, her hands trembling in fear. She knows this is Narasao in front of her, she's not stupid. She just knows… that this is a demon in front of her. "Auntie… Auntie…" He started to walk towards her, as tears began to form in his eyes, trying to extend his arms, desperately asking for a warm embrace like what his mommy and Auntie usually do… yet all she did was back away even further and kept her knife pointed at him.

"Don't you dare call me by that name! I only know one child who I cherished so much, calls me by that name, and it's not you!!! I will not get fooled by an abomination from hell!! Depart from me, for I never know you!!"

She glared dangerously at the demon child before her, ignoring the face he is making. Yeah, that's right, this is what devils do—fool the weak. She stood up from her knees and looked down on Narasao with ulterior motives. And so, with a scream of terror and self-confidence, she ran towards the danger that was never there. A danger who only wanted nothing but an embrace, and a danger who was so broken that his power, for the second time, decided to take over the consciousness of this little danger and defended the danger against the person who believes in the good even though they were never good themselves.

He stared at her face, it was full of intentions. Ulterior ones. They don't feel anything as safe. Her grip on that knife is scary. But I felt like my arm swung on its own towards Auntie Idila. I'm about to hurt her, real bad. And I didn't want it to happen. This thing in my arms just wanted to defend me, and she blessed me, but…

"Should God really bless someone like me?"

He left the house where Auntie Idila lives. All of the sudden, his demonic arm trailed even more blood on the ground, but this time, there was more than usual. And at a time like this, the rumors probably have spread even further. Everyone should know about this demon, because the last time he was seen was in the streets.

"...What just happened? I don't feel clean. I still feel heavy. I thought Auntie Idila would take this thing off my face… It's so heavy. I feel heavy. My hands feel wetter and sore than ever, and I just left her house… I think I know the way home."

And at that moment, the rumor spreading had reached its peak.

It took him a while to get home. At least 19 minutes of slow walking of the strain that backlashed his movements. He was tired, and he doesn't know why. But then again, that's not important right now. He got home, he did. He opened the door to it, and inside was dark. He mostly expected a warm welcome that makes him smile and feel at home, but nobody's home. It's just him. All alone. All by himself. He stepped inside further, and without notice, the demonic arm that lingered in his body soon melted away. His Prophelity deactivated on its own, knowing that its user… is home.

He looked around, his face that's hard to understand. The house was usually loud, well, no traumatizing screaming, just pure childhood joyful screams of running around. But he found himself standing there. The family pictures are still there, but they aren't. Except him.

"I'm back."

That took longer than expected. He comes home after playing with his friends outside till sunset, always coming back filled with sweat and odor, and of course, a bright smile. It was those words that he would instantly say the moment he stepped into the house, or perhaps before even stepping into it. But he found himself saying that a minute after entering the house. It's not that he's just going through a depressive phase—it's too early for him. He just went through alot… I guess that's also too early for him.

He went to the kitchen, grabbed a chair, climbed on top of it, doing it all in front of their kitchen sink just to wash off the ketchup that had been covering his hands for a long time.

"Lalala… dirty dirty hands go wash away…"

Humming, he suddenly heard police sirens echoing outside, they drove close, then slowly left soon. They are heading somewhere. He doesn't know where. No one is there to tell him about it. He jumped down from the chair, almost slipping. He pouted, and walked over to the fridge.

"What should I eat today… Mommy left us some spare pancakes. Big sister told me that it's all hers… but she isn't here now."

That's right, she's not here now. Not anymore. From these moments on, he became independent without realizing it. He spent the rest of the day's hours taking care of the house alone. How did he manage to do it? He's an observant kid, and staying with his house workaholic mother made it even better for him to analyze and memorize a lot if not every detail she does. It all came in handy. He even knows how to warm up the fresh cold pancakes from the freezing fridge.

Cleaning the house alone, and as a kid, at seven years old at that, was a pure struggle for every kid known in history. However, Narasao is just a different breed—All he needed was to memorise everything needed and think of nice and cozy songs at mind to make it all work. It's not easy, but it isn't as hard either.

In the early night, he managed to cook a few hotdogs, eating it all with rice accompanied with ketchup. It's ketchup this time. He ate it all with a hungry look and empty stomach. It was his favorite after all, and that made him curious enough to try to learn how to cook it. He had a few failed attempts, but the last attempt is always a success.

When he was done eating, he burped loudly, giggling to himself. He always finds these little burps funny, and it was those kind of silly moments that he forgot to turn off the stove sometimes. Soon, he left the dining area of his house. Went upstairs, and entered his sister's bedroom.

"Mommy said that she left some gummy bear snacks in big sis's bedroom…"

The room was dark, the moonlight of the dark casting through the windows as the air flew through the curtains. Surprisingly to him, it's silent. He made a few slow steps forward inside, and the sound of steps reminded him of how loud his big sister's room is because she constantly blasts her favorite music. He looked around for the gummy bear snacks, rummaging through closets and cabinets. He found nothing. She sure is a sneaky hider.

He groaned frustratedly as he stepped away from the closet, sighing softly in disappointment. He looked around the room, humming in sadness. He can see that several shadows of people are moving around coming from the window. There seems to be a whole lot of them outside, there must be a festival going on. They're being loud too. Though he doesn't want to pay much attention to it as he left the room and went to his own bedroom.

He wants to sleep early now, as early as his mother always tells him about. About 8pm at most. He doesn't want to get scolded today…

He crawled over to his bed, layed down, grabbed a pillow, and hugged it like always. He misses his mother's touch just as much as he misses sleeps like these. He misses all of them, and they haven't come home either. Those voices outside are probably them, after all, they are just sleeping with eyes open back in that school. That's what Narasao hopes is what happened. He doesn't want to remember how scary their voices looked like. And now that he mentioned it, he thought about it and got scared. So he muttered these words…

"I wanna see fireworks."

And just for some reason, the voices of strangers outside started getting louder and louder.

It was a good night, a very good one. But not as much. There's no one to cuddle with him, no one to tell him stories, not even those night time kisses on the forehead. None of those. It was hot too, actually, it's getting hotter and hotter slowly, as if someone has lit a large fire on a big torch. It was uncomfortable for him to sleep, often groaning softly and sweating. "Mommy, it's so hot…" He keeps muttering those words, both mind and mouth. He seeks for affection, but doesn't get anything. Suddenly, people outside started to yell unintelligible words he can't understand as much.

He then heard a loud slam coming downstairs, that made him wake up almost instantly. Someone must've slammed open the entrance of the house, and the voices of those people started getting louder and clearer, each being either male or female. Indeed it was, the yelling of their voices got clearer after that door slamming.

"Who's here?! Bring him out!"

"Where's the damned demon? He killed Idila!"

"Typical demons, always aiming for the ones who believe in God!"

Hearing those words, Narasao started getting terrified and panicked out of fear. He sat up immediately from his bed and rushed outside to go downstairs. They were probably talking about him, but killing Idila? He would never do that, right?

He met the several people that were standing all around the living room, all with looks of anger and vengeance and desire for Justice. Some of them are holding torches, some carrying all sorts of weapons. "W-who are you guys?!" Narasao yells at the crowd, tears falling from his eyes in fear. And as the crowd noticed Narasao, they turned on him, enraged.

"You! Where's the demon?! Where is your family?"

"Hey, isn't that Mr. Tarosono's son? Where are the others?"

"He must've been the demon, the Tarosono family have all been discovered and confirmed dead in the school shooting yesterday! It probably took form!"

They glared up at Narasao, and Narasao looked down at them in fear. He doesn't know what to do in this situation at all. "Damn well it is, I had my eyes open." One of them said, an old man, stepping up and lifting his shotgun and aiming it directly at Narasao. "I saw this child getting shot in the head by these shooters yesterday, he died like a poor boy! And this demon had the audacity to take his form?! May God forbid the wrong use of this boy's body, damned Satan!" He shouted, and just before he pulled the trigger of his shotgun, Narasao immediately ran upstairs. The old man tried to shoot Narasao, but failed because he was moving too fast. "After him!!!"

He ran, and so did they. Some of them stayed downstairs in case the so-called "demon" escaped the grasp of those who tried to chase him upstairs and went back downstairs to run for the main exit. Each rushing step he takes is an escaping breath out of his mouth. He looks back to see how far they are compared to his location, and their faces are nothing but hatred and rage. He didn't do anything, so why are they like this?

He kept running across the hallways of his house, trying to make them lose track of him, but the old man with the shotgun moved in the front lines of the crowd and aimed his gun at Narasao again, pulling the trigger, and ultimately hitting the back of Narasao right leg mercilessly, making him in pain and eventually tripping from the floor, falling face first.

"Ah, ah! Ow! Mommy!!!" He screamed his mother's name in pain, tears falling endlessly as he whined loudly. He clutched his leg, gripping it tightly while the crowd of people began to approach him. But as they got closer, they suddenly stopped from their tracks, as their eyes grew wide both in fear and fascination—they were witnessing as half of Narasao's face and his right arm began to transform into the skin of that of the devil.

"By God's name, the hell is that…"

"So that's what a devil looks like? Terrifying…"

"He doesn't look anything like the kid I knew running around the neighbourhood."

Even with the amount of words being said, Narasao kept holding his wounded leg, crying more loudly. "It hurts, it hurts…! Mommy!" He cried louder, as the pain in his leg intensified. The people who were previously chasing him down, despite seeing the deviled form, began to form a feeling of sadness and a little regret of what they were doing to this little kid. But before they could even change their minds, the old man, along with other men, stepped up and aimed their weapons at the demon child. "Don't get fooled! This is the devil's way of convincing you to forgive it! Remember, the evil are always unforgivable! They are irreversible! They cannot repent from their wrong doings!" With that speech, the crowd snapped back to the reality of the situation; that's right, this is a devil they are talking about. It manipulates them. Even though that wasn't entirely the case…

At the same time.

"Hey, should we really stay here?" A young lad said, standing in the dining room with a friend beside him, with the friend holding a torch. "Of course we need to. What if the demon child escaped them and ran downstairs, heck, if it even ran towards this room? We can just ambush from here just in case." He responded, as the young lad gave him a look of agreement.

"Eh, fair point. But we can just guard the stairs, can we?"

"I mean we could, but a demon is a demon. It's a fantastical creature, so guarding it directly is suicide. Best to just stay here in the ambush team, dining area team that is."

The young lad sighs in disappointment before shrugging it off with his arms. "Sad… I've wanted to fight a demon my whole life." He said, as his friend snickered at the thought as he leaned against the counter next to the stove. "Heh, you're so childish sometimes. Makes me wanna tease you more…"

Upstairs, the men were just about to end Narasao's life right there, his life close to the line, and so the young lad's friend who is just right next to the stove, as he sniffed onto something.

"Hey… smell that?" The young lads friend mentioned, sniffing around with his fire torch, as the young lad raised an eyebrow. "Smell what?" The young lad asked, as his friend responded with "This thing… something like gas." Out of focus, he settled his torch down on top of the corner next to the stove. "Gas, huh? No shit, this is the kitchen, idiot." The young lad said as his friend glared at him "I know that! It's just that the smell is too strong!" He argued, as the young lad scoffed. "What are you, a dog? Bark for me."

The friend, his irritation reaching its peak, started yelling at the young lad. "Just shut up for a moment, will you?! I'm trying to focus here!!" He said, and he slammed his fist on the counter, making his torch roll directly to the stove.

At the same time, upstairs, the old man reloaded his shotgun and aimed at Narasao again. "Ye better say your last words on earth before I send you falling back to hell like thunder!" He said threateningly, glaring down on Narasao. And Narasao calmed down for a moment, his fear intensifying and getting worse the more he stared at the shotgun nervously. Again, he doesn't know what to do, especially at this moment. He is cornered, visibly at the mercy of the people who wanted nothing but vengeance for taking the form of the boy they swore to take care of along with his own family. And now that they're no longer here and alive, and this 'demon' they claim to have stolen Narasao Tarosono's form, they will do anything to take revenge.

"What'd ya say, huh?!" The old man said, his shotgun's aim never ever leaving Narasao's face. They all stared at one another, the crowd and the demon, for a moment as they waited for Narasao's last words to emerge from his mouth. But he didn't say anything afterwards, and that left the crowd confused. But before they knew it, Narasao immediately ran to the other direction and the crowd was left startled, entering a room while the others continued to chase after him, screaming his name, and the old man once again aimed the shotgun at Narasao.

Meanwhile, there were two young lads downstairs that were so dumb they placed a torch next to an active stove…

And apparently, Narasao, for some reason, felt something was wrong. The world slowed down, as he turned to the people who chased after him, and extended his arm to reach for them, trying to cover them against something catastrophic that is just about to happen…

And that catastrophic event was that the entire Tarosono house exploded to destruction along with everyone in it.

Narasao had extended his demonic arm, reaching his hands to cover the people who shamelessly wanted his head from the tragic end of their lives... but he found himself laying down on the floor outside of his house, unconscious, as the entire area burn in flames that was never supposed to be there by coincidence. Everything has scattered, not just debris or rubble, but also… burned human remains. You can't tell whose bodies those are—they are burned and destroyed to a point of being unrecognisable.

Screams have lessened, in fact, the only screams are for those who were outside the house this whole time. The explosion, to them, was unexpected. They all tried all sorts of things to pull away survivors, search for one, and even try to stop the burning. Yet, there was only one confirmed survivor… and that is the demon of nine years ago.

Laying down unconscious, his eyes scoot open instantly, as he immediately sat up and coughed blood, and he hasn't stopped crying either. He was hurt all over, but suddenly, those hurt soon disappeared and he felt like nothing was wrong with his body. Even the burn marks he received all began to disappear from his miserable body. Not to mention that his demonic form had also deactivated due to losing consciousness moments ago…

He slowly stood up from the ground, his left hand reaching down to touch the gun wound in his legs—it was no longer there. That part of his body was mysteriously healed. Meanwhile, some nearby rock next to him started to "burn", gain 'minor wounds', and even gunshots, as if the rock was Narasao itself. He didn't notice it though, his mind was too busy trying to progress everything that had happened—and the thing is, he failed to save those strangers.

He breathed heavily but slowly, his turning around and around, watching as the already unfolded chaos surrounded his entire homestead. This was the very moment in this phase of his life… had ended in the most tragic, undeserving ways impossible. In exchange for losing everything he had, he gained a power with a sole purpose to 'defend', and a type of power that lets him use the devil's powers and body without the direct mind of it.

"There it is!!!"

Someone shouted from a distance, a woman in her 30s, pointing her finger at Narasao with pure hatred and sadness in her face as tears flowed out of her eyes. "There's the demon!" Followed by that sentence, reinforcements arrived, emerging out of the burning smoke behind the grieving woman.

"That thing caused the explosion, didn't it?!"

"It already caused mass murder! It lured those and exploded the house with… w-whatever power it had!!"

"I knew it… now look at it. Look at him."

They all muttered, as one of them stepped up, a young man who's also filled with hatred, and rage, looking down on Narasao without a care in his world, and Narasao looked back, his entire expression had been vulnerable and full of fear. "Look at him, it has taken a human form. Narasao Tarosono's form. Always choosing the most innocent looking people to escape…" He said coldly, as he began to approach Narasao, and so did the others, holding their weapons, ready to end the catastrophic being. "...The evil will always look the most innocent, so don't mind us being the ones… who look the scariest. The young man said, and that fueled everyone in it. They are scary. And that was the look, a look that everyone in that place kept, that made Narasao realize the gravity of the situation he is in, and the deep realization of why they are doing this to him… when he himself thought that they did so for no reason.

"...I'm sorry…"

And suddenly, he found himself crying out of guilt. Tears began to flow, as he sobbed quietly and softly. It surprised everyone who looked down on him, while the young man, who had the most doubt of rage, was skeptical. "Hah?" He said, and Narasao, on the other hand… started to apologize.

"I-I'm sorry… Everyone got hurt because I left the stove on… I'm so sorry…! Please forgive me, I left the stove on so everyone got hurt…"

Those words alone would've brought sympathy to others. But right now, the people's mindset, after truly witnessing the truth of the theory of demon's existence… their mindset on Narasao is that "No one wants to see the vulnerability of a monster. Because to them, a monster is a monster. And to them, a monster doesn't deserve a single tear of consideration.

"...What a freaking joke…! People like you always blame others for your problems! Kill it!!!" The young man shouted as they all began to charge towards Narasao. And Narasao was shocked and even more saddened at the cause-of-events, they all didn't listen, and he realized that they never will. So, he ran away.

"No! I'm sorry, I-i'm sorry…! I didn't mean it…!"

Said by a boy of seven years. Running away to whatever is in his horizons. Tears fell from his eyes as he ran as fast as he could, with blood in his hands, and people… that wanted him dead.

"Dont let him get away! Catch him!!"

"Off with his head!! Off with his head!!!"

"Go, go! Shoot it!!"

"Don't get sympathetic, everyone!"

"...a child or not, a monster is a monster."

No one knew, but it started to rain, real strong. The clouds have gathered, forming a grey color that blocks the shine of sunlight from the depths of the earth. And suddenly, none could tell the difference between tears and pure rain drops. In fact, nobody cares. Nobody cares if a child lost everything he had. Nobody cares if he apologized for the things he did. Nobody cares if he still tried his best in the end. Because in the end… the vulnerability of a monster is always an opportunity. And that opportunity is the opportunity to end, not the miserable life it had, but the miserable life it brings to others, even though it did nothing but smile with the others he saw light of him and them within.

He ran as fast as he could, as fast as he could, as fast as the best of what he can do right now. Faster, faster, faster. Desperate. Panicked. Fearful. Sad. He had crossed the aisles surrounded by buildings, roads walked by vehicles, tunnels by frogs, everything to escape and make them lose track of him. But it's not working; each time he looks back, they are there. They always will. Justice will prevail, they say. But there's no justice, just pure cruelty and misunderstanding.

He looked back one last time, and noticed that they started losing track of him because of the very rainfall… but that was before he realized that his very next step confirmed to him that there was no longer any platform beneath him, and he found himself falling from a public road staircase.

He thought he had been saved, but no, it wasn't over yet. Actually, did he deserve this? All of it? You saw him as a demon, he killed Miss Idila, killed shooters who probably had a life behind the scenes. Usually, you would accept that he did in fact deserve… all this. A monster is a monster, right? Well newsflash, if you did agree with me, then you're messed up. As messed up as this story. He fell from the stairs that were meant to be stepped on, and each time he fell into it, he remembered how many times he had heard these 'fireworks' back from school yesterday. Those were fireworks that, instead of bringing smiles, only made people collapse and sleep with eyes open. It happened to his mother, his sister, and his father, and his new friends, everything. And now, he experienced a very big firework with everyone in it, and suddenly, they disappeared. It all disappeared. He hopes… that this is all… over.

He found himself, once again, laying down on the floor. Conscious this time. Fully aware of what happened. He tried to cough, but it was hard. His chest hurt, and his lungs felt like it got stabbed by a knife. He tried to cough once again, and it hurt him a lot, so much that he groaned silently. He doesn't want to collapse and sleep with eyes open, not right now. And because of that small sense of determination, he felt like something was happening in his chest, and he was able to cough and breathe normally again. He slowly sat up from the floor, and looked up from the top of the staircase, cautious and alerted. Luckily, no one seems to be coming down, yet it kept raining.

He sighed softly, relieved. But he lost all hope. For now.

He tried to stand up, his legs hurt. He had run for miles now after all, running from those people. But soon enough, he managed himself to stand properly and held his now broken arm as he looked around for shelter. And then, he found one, a small alley just a few meters away from here. Out of desperation, he started walking towards it, his legs almost giving up but he never did. He wants to sit there, to take a break, to sleep with eyes closed this time. Everything is just… so heavy right now.

It only took him three minutes before he could reach the alley, as he entered through it and sat with his back against the wall. He breathed softly, almost out of breath.

"...I'm so lonely… I miss them…"

He says to himself, as his head descended down and curled to a ball and wrapped his arms around his legs, holding them as tight as he could. He has nowhere left to go.

"Everyone else suddenly hates me, and I'm so tired… I should sleep… with eyes closed."

His last words of the day, before his eyes fluttered close slowly but surely…

"...is this what it all feels like for them? They no longer wake after this, huh… it's scary, and cold, but also… very comfortable."

"I don't feel anything anymore. I'm slowly drifting into something I don't know. But it feels nice."

"...I see. This feeling… if this is how they ended up with it, then I'm glad. Everyone, please don't leave me here all alone… I'll be joining you."

*Soft groans*

"...what? Someone's holding my arm…"

"Come on…!"

"Who is…? Did they catch me?"

"Hey!"

"Wake up! I wanna be your friend!"

And suddenly, the rain stopped, I can no longer hear it all dropping on the bare ground. I can't tell how long I've been sitting there, but my buttocks tell me that it's been hours, probably a good three to five.

"Can you hear me?"

It's so tiring. All that running, and all I ended with is a painful fall of despair. That's why I always feared going downstairs back at home… Now that I mentioned it, how's 'home'? I couldn't think about it properly because I feel like something or someone is pulling my left arm, trying to wake me up for some reason. That's right… it was at those times. I see that…

"Wakey wakey…!"

Out of frustration, an unknown girl pulled Narasao out of the darkest alley and made him meet with the shiniest day. His eyes slowly opened wide, his eyes blinking because of the rays of sunlight hitting his eyes whose irises have shrunk to the point of being comparable to that of a cat's. He no longer feels pain all over, and it was all confusing as his instincts woke up to defend himself in case this was one of those people who wanted to hunt him down… but the hands that held him were soft and comfortingly warm. It was a warmth that reminded him of his mother, his sister, and his father… and a warmth that felt… home.

He lifted his head, and so did his eyes, and the first thing he sees is a very bright smile, and then her purple eyes, her wavy and long blonde hair, and her innocent expression that looks like she was excited watching Narasao waking up. "Hello!" She shouted in his face, as she pulled him closer to her as his body completely met with the sunlight, and Narasao… was too stunned to speak, and then, became shy. After all, she looks like an angel. It fits the description his mother usually describes them as. "W-who are you…? Are you going to hurt me?" Narasao asked nervously, his voice cracking out of fear, but she spoke back in a cheerful and fun tone that removed all that negativity.

"No, I'm Trizha! And you look funny, wanna be friends!?"

And suddenly, another girl of my age wants to be my friend. Her name is Trizha. Trizha Frantzes. A girl who lives in another town next to mine… and for some reason, I felt connected to her.

"Uhm… Why do you want to be my friend?"

Narasao nervously asks Trizha, as he follows her around the halls of the road as they slowly approach a nearby playground. "Because you look funny, like I said before! So I thought maybe you're just as fun as you look. I want a playmate! Hehe!" She exclaimed excitedly, smiling brightly while humming silently, her hands on her back. She then suddenly turned her head around to look at Narasao, startling him with her bright smile of cheerfulness. "By the way, what's your name?" With that question, Narasao gets a little embarrassed of the question, feeling a bit uneasy revealing his name. It's been a while, after all. He finds usual introductions as one of the worst forms of oral communication. "Uhh… m-my name is N-Narasao… Narasao Tarosono."

And that's that, he revealed his name, and it seemed like it was the kind of name that left Trizha speechless about it, and he got even more embarrassed and moreover, nervous. He usually gets questioned why his name is 'Narasao' out of all other names since it was a weird name. It held no meaning whatsoever, and even if they try to translate its meaning from other languages, it wouldn't fit or it'll make it even weird. At least, that's the exact kind of reaction Narasao expects from Trizha. But… instead of asking, she…

"Weird name, change it!!"

…criticised it for its weirdness, even recklessly forcing him to change it. To her, the name wasn't interesting, It was just weird. Too weird for her that even though names are supposedly the titles of one's character, she would rather rewrite it for something better. This entirely surprised Narasao. "How about… Nomoro!" She thoughtfully said, smiling widely at Narasao. "Nomoro Ketatsuki!! The name sounds different, but it's cooler than your 'weird' name!!"

Narasao just stared at Trizha in shock and silent embarrassment.

"Trizha… uhm…"

"Hm? Yeah?"

"That name is… also weird."

And with that, the two unintentionally decided to go through a staring contest with each other. It took them exactly ten seconds before Trizha tries to speak out her thoughts, but nothing comes out of her mouth and she is left speechless for a moment. But she soon gathered some courage despite the awkwardness of the situation. "S-still, your name is Nomoro Ketatsuki. Weird or not, you are who you are!!!"

"B-but you just-"

"Shush! Shush!!"

That's right, she suddenly said that after forgetting that she forced Narasao to change his name. She seems like the type of person who wouldn't listen to stuff like that, so Narasao, or Nomoro, for now, decided to just close his mouth shut for a moment. But deep inside, he was surprised at the name he was given. There was once a time when he asked when he got the name 'Narasao Tarosono' from, and the answers he often gets were because he was born to have a name and not 'why'. He found Trizha's way of lending him a name intriguing and interesting, and that is because the first one appeared out of nowhere. If that's how names are given, then he'll Keepsake that new name for himself…

And I… will keep that name. Because it was a name that made me feel like I was born again…

It took them a while, but they reached the playground. It was a cozy and warm area, filled with children his age and their parents watching them from afar. It was a feeling he was familiar with, a feeling comparable to that of the first time he saw it. He can't help but smile a little at the sight. But… the moment he stepped into the playground, everything was suddenly in flames, full of blood, bodies, and everyone he once knew… were there.

He jumped, watched in horror and panic, and stepped back until he bumped into Trizha from behind, who was looking at him with a thoughtful look in her face. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" She asked. She can see that Nomoro is panting and breathing heavily, his eyes shrunk out of fear once again. He's scared. So he patted his head softly while smiling brightly to herself. "Don't worry! You won't go to the hospital to get injected if you get a small scratch from her, we can just hide it!" Trizha said as she held Nomoro's wrist and pulled him into the playground, but he resisted from going. "N-n-no…!" He shouted as he suddenly pulled his wrist off Trizha, as her smile slowly faded away and replaced with an unreadable expression. "Hey…"

He backed away, holding his head with both of his hands side-by-side, his heavy breathing intensifying, and so was the sweating. Every time he glances forward into the playground, it keeps reminding him of the things that happened yesterday. The things that hurt him most. The things that became the reason why he is here now. And the things why he stood alone for the rest of his life… But of course, glances always end up with a blink no matter how long it is witnessed, as someone covers his sight and point of view completely from the tragic world he is seeing using their torso. And suddenly, Nomoro felt arms wrapping him. It's getting warmer, in a cozy way.

"It's okay, it's okay… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you about getting injected."

Trizha said worriedly while she caressed Nomoro's head softly, listening as the fast soundbeats of his body slowly faded into calmness. She can feel his whimpers and tears wetting her dress, yet she doesn't mind. Tears are meant to land towards where they are launched. She held him close, close enough to make him aware of her embrace. "...Why are you this scared? Was getting injected too scary for you?" She asked him yet again, using a tone that's soft and convincing enough to avoid triggering him. "Don't worry, I'm right here, Nomoro. Trust me, I'll make sure that no needles touch you!" She shouted, continuing to caress her dear scared friend that she just met. She doesn't know why he's like this, but it's probably what she thinks it is.

Minutes go by, and Nomoro soon calmed down and the two of them went to sit down on a nearby bench just by the corner of the playground. He was still worn out re-experiencing all those traumatic moments, but felt slightly better after a little gentle comfort from his new 'friend'. "Sorry…" He apologetically said softly, looking down on the ground while Trizha looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "For what?" She asked. "I mean… we were supposed to play in the playground together, but I kinda ruined it by crying out loud and being sad all of the sudden…"

He said, his voice cracking from embarrassment and nervousness, but Trizha simply smiled brightly through it all and responded; "It's okay! We can just play later. Plus… you didn't do anything wrong, and even if you did, I would still forgive you because you apologized!" She cheerfully said, casually taking his plea for granted, and he looked up to her with a glint in his eyes. "Really?" and Trizha nodded deliberately. "Yes! Every Bad-doer is forgiven as long as they say sorry! And even if they didn't, they can still be forgiven as long as they did it for the right thing."

"Doing it… for the right thing…" Nomoro muttered those words to himself repeatedly, slowly staring away from Trizha as the more he repeated those words, the more he recalled the moments when strangers invaded his home, remembering how scary they looked, and remembering how they looked down on him with malice and a sense… of justice and punishment. "Did they all do it against me because… because I did something wrong against them…?" He lingers those words in his mind, trying to process if he actually did something wrong, but he doesn't seem to remember a single detail. One thing for sure is that they once mentioned that he somehow 'hurt' Miss Idila, when all he remembered was visiting her and she looked just as scary as them, and after that, he simply left the house with even more of those red liquid in his hands. That was all he could ever recall in his delayed memories.

He sat there motionlessly, his expression unreadable in the processing of his own thoughts while Trizha leaned closer with a playful mischievous smirk. "By the way, if we plan to play later instead, can you bring some of your friends to come over and play? So that we all can play together!" She whispered close, although her tone was still loud, but Nomoro's eyes suddenly widened at the mention of the word 'friends'... because the very last time he saw them roaming around his naked eye was that… they all burst into flames with small holes all around their body unidentified to him.

"I don't have friends."

He said, he responded, his tone seemingly casual but carried deeper meaning behind it. He didn't just have no friends whatsoever, he lost all of them to begin with. "Oh…" Trizha leaned away, a look of understanding forming in her face after thinking he really didn't have any in the beginning. And so, she got herself an idea with a glint to her eyes. "Oh I know!" She said, her earlier expression returning. "How about we–"

"I'm alone."

She was suddenly cut-off by Nomoro before she could even finish her own sentence. And those words… instantly entered her mind. "I don't have anyone, Trizha. I don't have anybody…" After saying those tragically strange but valid words, he slowly turned his head to look at her, and to her surprise, he was vulnerable. It was visible, and clear, like no other. "I'm… I'm alone."

When those words left his mouth, it carried a serious yet soft tone, as if he was pleading for help he never asked. Indeed he wasn't, and never should. The fact is… he stopped expecting it. After all, it is just as he said—they all slept away. Literally everyone he once knew. And everyone else? All against him.

He stopped expecting help because of Trizha's words, that he learned something; he was undeserving of help, that much he knew. If you could forgive a person when their intentions were intentional, would you really? Nomoro, lacking certain but important memories, caused him to believe that he did, in fact, hurt those he loved, and it all happened without his awareness. And no awareness with action, and action without awareness, could be intentional. That's what he realized; Everything he did, everything he was accused of… he did it all intentionally. He thought.

But one thing is certain… is that all of those thoughts… were just thoughts.

"You're not alone."

"Huh…?"

Those words of hers… flew high deep in his mind. His eyes widened yet again, wider, but now in surprise. He wasn't alone, she said. He never was, she exclaimed. But how can that be? Family died, friends died, relatives died, even strangers did so, and so did his own home. So how can he not be alone? The answer is…

"Look over there!"

Trizha shouted, pointing at someone from afar. Nomoro stared at Trizha's face for a moment before he turned to where she was pointing, and what he saw was just a woman walking around with her pet dog. Yes, just a woman with her pet dog. "Do you see them?" She asked Nomoro, and Nomoro slowly nodded but confused. "Yeah… i… I see them." He softly said, almost quietly, but Trizha suddenly pointed somewhere else instantly. "Look over there too!" She suddenly shouted and Nomoro looked at the pointed direction instantly as well, but this time it's just two businessmen taking a break over an ice cream next to the ice cream truck.

He was getting even more confused by the second, but before he could muster a word, she once again pointed somewhere else. "There too!" She said, as Nomoro followed her gaze and finger, and she was just pointing at children playing in the playground. "There!" She once again pointed, but downwards, pointing at the ants walking in groups. "There!" She pointed somewhere yet again, pigeons this time. "Then there!" she pointed at buildings filled with people. "Over there! She then pointed at the road with cars, and people. "Over there, there, there, and there!!"

She kept repeating those words while pointing at everyone, everywhere, all at once. And suddenly, Nomoro, who followed through everything she pointed at all… heard everyone nearby, and realized that they are all here. The sound of moving steps, and laughing stocks, and cricket noises, the slurp of an ice cream, and the barking… he was beginning to realize something, as Trizha… pointed her finger to herself. "And here." She said, staring at Nomoro with a bright smile, a ridiculous smile, and smile… that filled a hole.

"You're not alone. You never were. Never will. And ever. Until everyone is gone. Until I'm gone."

He was speechless, shocked if ever. Suddenly, his mind was blank at the thought of those words, and it filled him up. Destruction always falls into redemption… out of realization. And his realization was… he was never alone to begin with. And that made him tear up.

She snickered when Nomoro began to cry, as she comforted him with a simple head pat.

"Don't worry! Your world may make you lonely, but in my world? I'll make sure you're not!!"

It was those words that stayed in my mind, till the end of the day. It was those words that had filled me hope and salvation, a belief where I felt like an empty shell with something on it. But then, a thought entered my mind; "What is it to her?" I ask. Me. Myself. And I.

Earlier that day, playtime was over and the sun was setting so we decided to take our leave, walking around together like an ordinary hangout. Indeed, there were no 'friends' who came, just ol' fashioned duo playtime. Although along the way, Trizha seemed a bit shy but was confident enough to say something; she's going through an audition to some trending dancing show. She asked me to come over to watch her performance, but I declined because, at the time, people probably knew about me. The demon child rumor. I strategically knew at the time that people were still hunting me down out there. Even with my such little mind, I couldn't risk touching a rose with hidden thorns.

At least… that's what I wanted to tell her about. An excuse. A reason why I shouldn't come without a plan at the start, in fact, it's hard to make a plan either way, since an audition is filled with countless eyes that roam the horizon from all angles. However, before I could tell her all of that, she instantly handed me over a 'spare' ticket exclusively only for both participants and watchers of the audition. She then said that she had two of them, but she already gave one away to another friend of hers. Perhaps a new one. Or one who came before me. It's surely before me. She then told me that she kept this ticket a secret for a second friend, and apparently, I was that second friend.

Did I try to refuse her offer again? Of course I did. It's too reckless. But then again, she instantly refused my very own refusal. It's infuriating, but it can't be helped. After all, she took the trouble saving up enough money to pay for two. No wonder she kept it a secret. I guess it would be a waste to leave it away… so in the end, I accepted her reckless request. Can't be helped, that's just the way she is that day. After that I asked her about her friend, the one before me, the one who received the ticket first. She told me 'she' was bald and a bit sick. So if she is bald… then wouldn't that mean that he's a boy? Most bald people I know are males.

Anyways, she soon left after that, and I was left alone once again, in a park. But this time, it didn't feel like I was alone. That's right, I was only alone. Not lonely. I don't feel lonely, it's just that no one is around me… actually, there's still people around me of course. I meant that metaphorically, and it's also because of the words she told me. It lingered till the end of the day… a lonely world… an alone world. Her world exists without loneliness, me included. And if that's the case… does that include her as well? If not, what is it to her? What happened to that world of hers…?

"Wow!! What an astounding and flashy performance! Give them a round of applause!!"

Said by the host of the Malaysia's Got Talent show, said in a cheerful and convincing shout that aroused and amused the many who set their eyes upon the big stage. They all clapped in applause deliberately, some laughed, some screamed, and even some whistled in excitement. All were done because of a performance done by a band of boys who just finished their own performance, as they vowed respectfully and made their leave against the alley. But deep within the crowd, the audience, the judges, everything… is Narasao Tarosono, or Nomoro Ketatsuki, sitting with the crowd without notice or recognition of his identity. Wore the same, smelled the same, looked the same, like an old timer. And yet… no one sees the moving fish in the lake.

Trizha's reckless antics were indeed reckless. I forced myself to be here, and yet no one sees me as the devil… I see, they only know about the devil having horns and stuff, I guess all they saw was a child who's just stinky in comparison. But before all this… At the time, I was able to manage. At the time, I was able to independently take care of myself for a few days before I came here. It was a great struggle for me because of how little I was at the time.

I thought I couldn't make it, I didn't take a bath, but I was able to grab some leftover food at the back of a restaurant by the garbage area. I was sure glad that the first layers of the trash contained fresh goods uneaten by the ungrateful, and their chicken, though lacking its meat, still had taste in it. I guess being homeless… isn't bad after all.

And despite not being recognized by the audience, I still have to keep a low profile, hiding my face of course. The negative things about me are still spreading like wildfire. Now, come to think of it… who's coming next?

A soft chuckle can be heard from the distance—it is the host of the show. He seemed a bit nervous, but that smile on his face never came undone. "Haha everyone, sorry for the wait, the next performer is a bit shy, pray tell." He laughed at his own statement, and so did everyone else. It's something that happens a lot for performers, and it's understandable considering how big the stage they were about to stand on after all. "But don't worry everyone! I mean for those who actually worry hahaha. Well, there is nothing to worry about this little cute performer who is about to give us a hell of a show. Give her a round of applause as she introduces herself… as The Proclaimed Angel Beater, Trizha Frantzes!!!"

Everyone stood up and started screaming in excitement, as a girl with long and wavy blonde hair entered the stage with confidence and determination in her face while holding a mic between her hands. It's Trizha, and she's about to give us all… a hell of a show.

"Good evening, Lil Trizha. Say, how are you feeling today?" The host said, looking at Trizha with an expectant look on his face. "I… uh…" and suddenly, the earlier cheerful and determined Trizha… had begun to stutter. The host, understanding what this might be, decided to cover up for her.

"Hahaha, oh don't worry everyone, if y'all were in the same shoes as hers of course we'd be stunned at the abnormal sight of such a view only the brave can dare stand forth!" He shouted, pointing out at the crowd, pointing out at the way how wide and massive the amount of audience who set their eyes upon the one performer. To me, it was all the more confusing—this Trizha I met a few days ago… she looks so scared even with that confident grin on her face. She doesn't look… any determined at all. She's pressured. "Now don't lose your hope—even the smallest and gentlest rain can drop the hardest. Trizha Frantzes here will give us a real hell of a show! Now let's not waste our time and watch her performance!!!"

Everyone once again clapped in amusement, the lights that showed everyone had turned off except the ones that were deemed support for Trizha. If her view was blurry, she wouldn't have to worry about the countless eyes staring deep into her soul… but for some reason, her eyes were just too clear to be true.

She hesitated for a moment, before she began to sing and show her talent. But the first few lines were already a crack, and people began to be concerned. And me? All I could do was stare and watch helplessly. I can't just jump on stage and save her in an unreasonable way… actually, how can I save her from that? She stands on an empty stage, surrounded by thousands who could recognize me as a whole… I can't do anything. I know I could've done it by acting reckless instead, but I couldn't. And I see now. In her world, loneliness ceases to exist, yet she, the creator, exists with it.

All I could do for now… is just helplessly watch everything unfold. I can hear people near me start criticising even her own efforts. There are also people who feel bad, but there's nothing they can do to prevent such disappointment. I wish I could have done something, really…

I watched as she snapped out of it and immediately ran away from the big stage. It left everyone in shock for a brief moment, and the judges gave out exaggerated reactions of their own to calm the audience. To them, and to me, this was one of the rarest moments that has happened in the entire show—the incapability of esteemed and confident performance through a moment of psychological crisis. It was a shocking moment, and then again… there was nothing I could do…

"My performance? Oh uhm… I-it went good! Yeah, but I want to become an Influencer instead…"

In the midst of a room resides the surrounding walls of the hospital. Trizha stood next to a sick, cancer-unfree patient who's laying sat up from her bed and whose name we all know—Wyne. She looked concerned, and she is also holding the same ticket for the audition. Meanwhile, I was watching the two have a conversation, peeking through the door frame from the other side of the wall. Trizha looked as cheerful as before, and from what I know… she is always honest about the things she says unless she wants to tease, that much I knew even after only meeting her once or twice.

"...You sure you don't want to become an idol anymore? I thought you already told me that it'll be your dream forever…" Wyne exclaimed, concerningly. And without a concerned look in her face, she just smiled brightly through it all. "Yep! And besides, I can still be rich as an influencer! Count me in!!" And now, she's supposed to be honest to her friend, and she never told me about her own dreams until now, and she is supposed to be very honest about it even as a child, honest about her own decisions… but she's making a really funny face while saying it. A face… that I wouldn't believe, and a face I wouldn't thought would end with a lie.

It only took a few several hours of watching her roam around the hospital with her bald friend. I didn't know she was a she, this is the first time I've seen someone bald while being a girl at the same time… but on other hand, the more I carefully watch Trizha, the more I begin to notice small changes in her expression—she seems down. I know I only met her for only a few hours, or a day, but it felt like I had memorized her entire character. And this side of her surprised me… just not in a good way.

She looks hurt, but never was. She looked like she just watched a sad movie, but she hasn't done it just yet. She looks like she got yelled at, but there was no reason for something as trivial as that to happen against her. And for some reason, seeing her like this… sort made me feel like I began to dislike her. It's weird, and I know it. Why should I suddenly dislike the person who gave me salvation when I was at my lowest? That's right, and I'm sure that it's because she entered a route… that leads to her very Downfall.

Realizing that, I decided that I wanted to help her. To pull her out of that route immediately. To pull her from the upcoming misery that she will experience because of herself. And I tried… but I couldn't. Why? Because before I knew it, she had already left the hospital moments after my own realization. So I left the hospital immediately, and ran to find her. I ran, and ran. Through the streets. Through the crowd. Through everything that once hated me, once disapproved of me, once abandoned me all alone… I was alone, but I didn't feel it. I don't feel loneliness even if it surrounds me. And that is because of her… and now that she's approaching her own loneliness, I want to chase after her and save her myself. I want her to smile everyday without worrying about the things she did. I want to save her the same way she saved me… and I will do it… by unburdening myself by those who want to burden me for what I am.

Her route is filled with a lot of risks… and I don't care. I will chase after her as fast as I could, as immediately as possible, in the most possible way possible. Just as I don't want to leave her side… I also don't want her to leave my side. And no, that's not selfishness… I just want her by my side, and that's it. I want to keep remembering the person who saved me, the person who salvated me, the person who taught me that I was never alone. If the same event happens to her as well, then I would like to stand next to her, and teach her… that she herself will never be alone in her own world, that she can still save and connect!

I will not allow her… to wither as a blooming flower!!!

And from that day so on, for months so on, for years so on, he has watched her. For 9 years till now, he has watched her for the rest of his life. For 9 years till now, he has watched her save others after him in ways he wouldn't expect would work. For 9 years until now… he has watched her suffer walking in the route she chose to believe was true. It was a side of her that should've made him dislike her, hate her, be disappointed in her because she is the savior who saved him, and simply watching her fall before herself was the biggest mistake she could ever have. Falling because of herself… is the biggest mistake that someone like her has made. However, that is not enough to change his perspective of her—for she, to him, is a savior, the Symbol of Connection… and the Greatest Influence of all time.

For nice years. I have chased after her.

For nine years, I have independently taken care of myself. For nine years, I avoided every possible scenario that could greatly affect my life, and that is all because of this name Trizha gave me… Nomoro Ketatsuki. I will always treasure this name, for it gave a purpose and reason for the existence of my identity. I have worked hard everyday, as well as the part-time jobs in a harsh and demanding country—Malaysia. But I was glad, after all, I grew up working tirelessly and grew big not just in height but also in body. I was every job's demand, yet I only took the ones that I could do. I did all of that as a child, starting from 11 to 16, and today, until this very day.

And because of my hardwork, I was able to see Trizha again by signing myself in the public school she is in. That's right… this is actually, and surprisingly… my first day of school. The very first one. My entire life after the tragedy, I had worked tirelessly and never complained about it. I'm only glad, and also glad that I learned a whole or a lot of stuff independently all alone. All alone, and yet, I never felt like it.

And now I stand here… staring motionlessly at the door that Trizha… and her other two friends whom she saved along the way, had just entered. Along the way, I have observed her while on my way here. She looked as cheerful as before, even after nine years without seeing me. I'm sure that she… has forgotten about me.

But that doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if she doesn't know who I am, forgot about me, forgot who 'Nomoro Ketatsuki' is… all that matters is that I keep my eyes on her while she continues to walk that negative route of hers. But I'll admit… I do want her to remember who I am, to remember the person she saved that day. And even if she doesn't, that's fine by me. I won't complain.

Even if she only saw me as someone else, that's fine by me. I won't complain. Even if she sees me as a demon, the same demon that everyone knows about… I won't complain. It's fine. If that's how she sees me, then that's how she sees me. She can hate me, dislike me, disdain me for all she wants, and there's nothing I can do there, there's nothing I can do to change her view about me, nothing but reclaim my name, and the name she gave me… Nomoro Ketatsuki.

And even so, I shouldn't be concerned or worry about such trivial things. That's not what I am here for. I am here to continue keeping watch of her. I will watch her yet again, and that is still without a leash… her life goes on according to herself, that is how a life works—it is done by those who govern it. But if she goes too far… then I'll try my best on doing a few things;

He opens the door, and enters with soft spoken steps, eyes on the floor out of shyness, passing through Wyne, Margaret and alas… Trizha. They all have a surprised expression in their looks. Indeed they do. They seem intimidated, even though Nomoro isn't doing it on purpose. He walked past her, expecting to be recognized… but that was until T. Marcela spoke out of the blue after clasping her hand together. "Ah yes, I forgot to inform you that new students are allowed to enter my classroom despite being late." All of the students in the classroom groaned in frustration. And Nomoro finds it a bit embarrassing.

"And speaking of new students…" T. Marcela muttered, as Nomoro was suddenly pulled by her back into the front of the class. "I would like to introduce to you… our new student, and your new Classmate." She said with masked cheerfulness in her voice that everyone in the class could tell it's all a play-pretend, until the transferee in the front finally made his speech. "Hello everyone. I am…"

"...Nomoro Ketatsuki. And I am… no foreigner from overseas. I am a local known as Narasao Tarosono, who was renamed with the name Nomoro Ketatsuki instead… because that was a name that was given to me for a reason you all wouldn't understand. And I am here to…"

His eyes secretly wander and roam the room, searching for Trizha. And when he saw her, what he saw was the same Trizha Frantzes he's always known about. She may look like she has never changed, but he could tell… that she did. And to him, it is desperate for him to make sure that won't happen. Indeed, her 'change' is already dangerous to her, by him. And with these thoughts in his head, expressing them compared to what he originally said outside the mind… he will, without them knowing, tell them all what he is here for. And he's here for that very reason; he's here to…

"...retrieve Trizha Frantzes from the route she chose. And I'll make sure it's all a coincidence, I'll make sure it doesn't interrupt her, and I'll try my best… to save her."

"Do you even have the slightest idea of what I did to you? Heck, do you even remember any of it?"

"None of that matters."

"Alright, fine! I'll tell you everything since you are so clueless… and since you are so clueless, How about I tell what kind of person I really am?!"

"I forgive you."

"Why are you taking EVERYTHING like it's no big deal for you?!"

"...if you can forgive yourself for that, then I'm sure everyone else can do the same...Starting with me."

"This conflict started with us, and now let's end it. By moving to new ROUTES."

"At that time, it was game over for me. At least, in the best way possible. She didn't remember me at the time yet, despite accidentally, or by instinct, had she called out my name at that time in the aquarium. I guess I was hopeful that she would really remember me after that. I hoped she would. But because of the things that were happening to her, I guess she didn't have the time to think about me, confront me, or even remember. All she did was push me away, thinking that she would, once again, hurt me. But I've had worse. She can keep pushing me all she wants, and I would still continue to pull her. And did it. I saved her. I bet she's now thinking of what to do next… to do something new. I saved her, after all. I will make sure to give her all the opportunities she needs since she kept rejecting them beforehand… At least, that's what I always thought about doing for her once I'm done with this mission of mine. If only she was still alive till now."

Even now, the smoke hasn't cleared just yet. They smoke, is where the symbol of creation once stood before she disintegrated to nothingness. Within everything, was nothing. And within nothing, was all that there was left… for the entire rooftop, there were only… still 'three' fighters active.

One of them is Nomoro Ketatsuki, the demon of nine years ago, fighting fiercely and semi-consciously against the second fighter, Zackier Morkator. The winner of the fight was obvious between the two—the all-out and out-of-mind and broken demonic Nomoro and the Logical monster Zackier—and their fight decides the remaining fate this story has left…

"Is that all you got?? Hahahahaha!!"

From screaming to agony, to being hurled and thrown away to unprecedented walls lies the Prophelity-conscious Nomoro, who is currently… still at a disadvantage. "What? I thought you're the one wearing the costume!" Zackier kept shouting as he stabbed Nomoro several times all around his body while evading unpredictable, consecutive demonic swings out of Nomoro's demon arm elegantly in a flexible and flashy way, taking in for the love of the game. Nomoro struggles, trying to catch Zackier and catch him off guard, but he couldn't… he was, after all, moving too fast because of his Alterlity.

"You think you can defeat me just because you used a lousy transformation, a rage form at that, believing on who knows God's name that I would suffer beneath your victory? Think again!" Zackier exclaimed as he roundhouse-kicked Nomoro by the neck, momentarily breaking while as he screamed louder in agony and pure rage and frustration, thrusting his demon arm out of rage towards Zackier's face, only for it to be repelled away by a miniature emoplotion from Zackier using only five stockpiled emotions to form an emoplotion in its 50%. "Every goddamn story has this one annoying cliché where the MC gets stronger through a transformation, and suddenly the villain gets defeated. You were expecting that kind of outcome to happen, ye? Probably not, but similarly, yes! It all comes to hope."

Zackier began to approach Nomoro menacingly yet in a very casual manner, grinning hideously as he played with his knife while the demon-impacted monster decided to back away. Even without the direct consciousness of its user, it can actually tell that this man in front of it is…

"But don't be mistaken...! You have the soul of a human, living inside the body of a demon. And I? Am the opposite. It's pretty ironic. The only difference... is ourselves. And that is what will bring you to your loss! Heh, pretty corny aint it? But you should know, it's as real as reality."

…the real demon here.

The demon of nine years ago, all it could do was groan softly back away while trying to get itself to heal its wounds, and seeing the demon heal fascinated Zackier, making him scoff. "You know, Prophelities always avoids the most normal things possible as long as it's not part of the actual theme or its original description. Like your way of healing… of course, your Prophelity gives you the power of the devil, but that concept is way too normal so it has to be different in a way that fascinates the watchers! And because it's way too normal that a simple healing becomes complex in the simplest way possible!!"

He shouted as he then pointed his knife at a random rubble, and that random rubble had… stab marks in it. "Look at that rubble. For being called the Symbol of Loneliness, your healing has its specialty—it transfers your received damage to another for itself… alone. That's a pretty nifty ability. It's no wonder Margaret's broken arm was healed in a matter of days while you suddenly gained yours! But of course, you just had to transfer that stockpiled damage and give it to something or someone else. But knowing you, it's probably something. But what a way to avoid your responsibilities!!"

The demon of nine years began to pant heavily, as one eye woke up… it was Nomoro's consciousness, but only half of it.

"If only she was still alive till now… if only…"

He backs away, half desperate, half exhaustedly. He can feel the edge touching the back of his feet, he didn't know that he was this close to the edge of the rooftop… he's losing hope.

"If only she was… maybe I could have helped her choose her next and new route. I wished I could. But she's gone now, her body joined the dust of those misty clouds…"

He thought, staring at the smoke behind Zackier, it stayed there like she was still there, which he thought she wasn't.

"I saved her from herself, but I couldn't save her against others. I'm still… I'm still so weak… I know that's probably not the case, this man right in front of me… is stronger than even when this power of mine is taking control… he was right, I was probably expecting to win after that. I hoped it did. I wanted to get revenge, and I intended it for granted."

He lifted his head, panting softly now… and gazed his eyes on Zackier one last time.

"...I am uncontrollable… but I guess those who can control can always take control of the situation… There's nothing I can do anymore. I…"

"...I give up."

"...I haven't… given up yet!!!"

With a shout, something… an intense and overwhelming shockwave… carrying immense pressure and influence at that… radiated out of the smoke it spread all throughout the entire universe, and everything… went still.

Everything froze, everyone down below stared at the roof, as if something or someone appeared out of nowhere. And so did the two fighters, who stared at the lingering smoke in disbelief. But the one with the most reaction was… Zackier Morkator himself. He stared at the smoke with sweat all over his face, his skin has turned slightly pale, and he even almost dropped his blood-dripping knife. And all he expressed as much was… was this;

"That can't be… that was an Influential Call. The call to remind everyone that 'they' are here!! Only five people can do that… What is… what is one doing here out of all places…?"

And so… one step emerged out of the smoke, a step familiar by others, a step that only she could ever make. What emerged next was a broken yet still-intact dress. Then an iron pipe. And then comes her… Trizha Frantzes, turning to the battlefield with her entire body left unharmed. That's right, it's still her. And yet… there is an aura surrounding her… that no one could expect was true.

"Damn it, not only do I find these clichés annoying, I also fear them!" Zackier thought to himself, as he, in panic, immediately raised his arm and pointed his finger at Trizha, forming a complete emoplotion at the tip, doing it all without hesitation. "When it becomes successful, the only outcome is my loss here. I gotta stop that from happening, and my solution for that is to make the early kill!"

Without a second thought, he fired the emoplotion at Trizha, and it exploded directly to her face as it hit her directly, effectively destroying her entire head. It was cakewalk for him, the death from emoplotion was nothing but just a slice of cake. But suddenly, before he knew it… Trizha's body suddenly disappeared.

"What the heck?! She disappeared?!" He thought to himself.

Trizha: 2

Fate: 0

She reappeared, this time, emerging out of the smoke behind Zackier, her face still left unharmed. "Behind!!!" Zackier, by instinct, instantly felt Trizha's presence from behind and immediately formed a miniature emoplotion in its second variable to make it appear by the back of his foot. With this, he implodes the miniature emoplotion to cause a shockwave to launch his foot away to perform a devastating kick at Trizha's neck to cut her neck in half… but that was until she casually catched his kick effortlessly and even gripped it so hard that his leg began to crack.

"Wh-where did she get all that strength?!" He panicked in thoughts, gritting his teeth as he tried to pull his leg away but to no avail. All he could do was look in her face, but even that caused him to witness something terrifying; as her hair flowed through her face due to the wind, her iris began to disappear and veins started popping out side-by-side around her eyes… a symbol of intense focus. And that… was the very moment that Zackier realized the gravity of the situation, as his skin went even paler.

"...It was these very moments that I feared most. And those moments… is when the girl in distress, becomes the distress itself."

Chapter 21 - Lonely Influence - Chapter 19: Firework Boy