Misaki bent forward in a graceful bow, her voice soft yet sincere.
"Thank you for your hard work, sensei."
The doctor mirrored her gesture with equal courtesy, his lips curving into a gentle smile. "You're welcome. And…" His gaze shifted toward the small boy standing beside her, his tone light but firm. "Ryu-chan, you must make sure not to get hurt again, okay? You'll only make your parents worry."
Ryu blinked up at him, wide dark eyes glimmering. He gave a small nod, bowing calmly in return.
"Thank you for your hard work, sensei."
The doctor chuckled softly at the boy's calm manners. Reaching out, he gave Ryu's head a light pat, the warmth of the gesture sinking through the boy's bandaged forehead. "Good. Take care of yourself."
With that, Misaki gently took Ryu's small hand into her own. Together, they stepped out of the quiet hospital into the brighter hum of the world outside.
Misaki glanced down at her son, her smile tender. "Now that you're finally out of the hospital, what would you like to eat, Ryu?"
Ryu tilted his head, thinking seriously for a moment before answering with the unguarded honesty of a child.
"Cream bread, Mom."
Misaki's smile softened even more, her eyes crinkling as she nodded. "Then we'll stop by Sakura Auntie's bakery and get some."
At the mention of the bakery, Ryu's face brightened, and he nodded quickly. His small hand tightened around hers, and with his steps falling in sync with hers, the mother and son began their quiet walk together.
It had been two days since Ryu awakened—both from his coma and from the strange flood of memories that did not belong to this life alone.
During those two days, the hospital had kept him under careful observation. Nurses came and went, checking his pulse and blood pressure, while doctors ordered scans and examinations to make certain there was no hidden internal bleeding in his head.
They kept him for precaution, wanting to be sure his condition was stable before allowing him to leave. The steady rhythm of monitors, the faint smell of disinfectant, and the quiet murmur of footsteps in the hall became the backdrop of his short but restless stay.
His parents had rushed to the hospital the very morning after he awoke. Misaki had wept openly, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clutched him to her chest, whispering words of relief and prayers of gratitude.
His father, though more restrained, had eyes that betrayed the sleepless nights he'd endured. The worry of seeing their child unmoving for three long days had weighed heavily on both of them, and Ryu's smile—weak though it was—seemed to lift that burden in an instant.
The doctors too had tested his memory, asking him questions to see if he was fully aware of who he was, where he was, and what had happened. Ryu answered them all with ease, showing no sign of confusion.
Finally, after every check came back clear, after every concern had been set aside, the doctor signed the papers and handed them over with a smile.
Of course, he wasn't the same as his past self. He couldn't truly feel it—on the surface, it seemed as though he was still the same boy as before—but something deep inside whispered otherwise.
There was a constant buzzing all around him, like an endless hum of bees at different frequencies. It wasn't sound in the ordinary sense, not something his ears alone picked up.
No—it was as if his very body heard it, resonating with the vibrations themselves. Oddly enough, it didn't disturb him. The noise wasn't irritating, nor overwhelming. It simply was.
Curious, Ryu tried focusing on one of those threads of sound, narrowing his attention to its peculiar tone. What came to him wasn't just noise—it was meaning.
Beneath the buzz, he caught glimpses of emotions, fleeting shades of agitation, restlessness, sorrow, and joy. The noises weren't random at all—they were the murmurs of existence itself.
And then he realized it. The chaos did not come from any one place. It was everywhere. From the steady hum of machines in the hospital, to the breaths and heartbeats of people passing by, to the whispering air moving through the curtains, even to the very laws of the world that bound reality together.
Everything produced its own note in the chorus of life, a constant tide of chaos flowing into him.
It was strange—unfathomable even—but his altered body seemed built for it. Instead of breaking under the weight of so many voices, his mind adapted, attuned itself. The storm of buzzing settled within him like ripples smoothing across water, until his thoughts became still and clear—calm as a lake untouched by wind.
But, this ability to hear chaos was not actually his true power. His real ability lay beyond just listening.
Ryu and his mother finally arrived at their home, Misaki carrying a white plastic bag with the bright logo of Sakura Bakery printed across it. The soft smell of fresh bread still lingered faintly, making Ryu's stomach grumble in quiet anticipation.
But before they could even step inside, a small gathering of neighborhood aunties appeared at the gate. Word had already spread of Ryu's accident, and the kind women wanted to see with their own eyes that he was safe.
"Oh, thank goodness, Ryu-chan!" one of them said, reaching forward to pat his head gently.
"You really worried us, you know," another added, smiling warmly.
Misaki bowed politely, offering her thanks, while Ryu shyly lowered his head. Their exchange, though simple, was full of warmth, and for a moment the air felt light again.
That was when it came.
A harsh, blaring roar split through the peaceful chatter—the sound of an engine revving far too loudly, far too close. Heads turned at once, conversations cut off mid-sentence. Down the narrow residential pathway, a car sped recklessly toward them, the shrill noise of its tires scratching against the pavement.
"What on earth—?" one of the aunties gasped. Another's eyes widened, her voice trembling with alarm. "Is that driver drunk?!"
Fear rippled through the group. Without hesitation, the women hurried off the road, stepping quickly into the safety of the house's small yard.
But amid the panic, Ryu stood with his small hand tightened around his mother's, and his dark eyes narrowed, sharp and steady.
He fixed his gaze on the rushing car. The world slowed for him, not literally, but through his ability he felt every note of chaos pouring out of it.
The engine roared like a beast thrashing in a cage, vibrations pounding in his bones. And beyond the machine, he caught the wild hum of the driver's emotions—reckless excitement, adrenaline, music blaring inside the car and drowning out reason.
Ryu narrowed his eyes, drawing that chaos into focus. One thought pulsed through him, quiet but firm: "Calm down."
And just like that, it began. The chaotic roar of the car engine dulled, its violent rhythm shrinking to something steady, subdued. The driver's wild emotions dimmed as well, the reckless thrill shrinking into quiet confusion. The heavy beat of rock music that had been fueling him seemed to lose its edge, its grip.
The car's speed dropped rapidly, the wheels slowing until, only two meters from where Ryu stood with his mother and others, it rolled to a complete stop.
Inside, the driver blinked, bewildered, as though waking from a daze. He restarted the engine, testing it, and it purred back to life without resistance.
This time, though, he gripped the wheel differently—no wild thrill in his veins, no chaotic hunger in his chest. He drove forward again, but slowly, carefully, as though the recklessness had been drained from him.
Watching, Ryu allowed himself a small smile.
Beside him, Misaki frowned at the retreating car, her voice edged with irritation.
"Honestly… what kind of person drives like that in a residential area?"
The aunties, still gathered near the yard, immediately chimed in.
"Exactly! Some people have no sense of responsibility," one huffed, folding her arms.
"Speeding like that here of all places—what if a child had been on the road?" another added, shaking her head.
"Mm, young folks these days think they're in some kind of race," said the oldest of the group, clicking her tongue.
Their voices overlapped, a chorus of shared disapproval that filled the narrow street.
While Ryu, only squeezed his mother's hand a little tighter, hiding the faint glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes.
***
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