A month had passed in a blur, and here he was, still adrift.
Just behind the rundown apartment was a free parking lot. Ethan Cole locked up the car and then carefully carried his drunk guardian up the creaky iron stairs. This path had become all too familiar.
"Cold…" muttered the pink-haired little lady in his arms.
"Hang in there. We're almost home."
With a thought, Ethan activated Thermal Hand.
It was said that the ever-blooming flowers in Uiharu Kazari's hairband were kept alive thanks to this very ability, earning her the nickname "Thermal Reaper."
"Mmm… So warm. Like a walking heater…" mumbled Little Mo, half-asleep.
"Not exactly the title I'd want…"
But thermal hand had uses far beyond warming up a snuggly girl.
Ethan unlocked the door and, out of habit, called, "I'm home," before chuckling to himself.
The only one who could respond was slumped on his back.
Her petite form was soft, her drunken weight heavy. She kept slipping off his back, but carrying her in a bridal hold felt too weird.
Holding her was awkward. Not holding her was worse.
After finally tucking Little Mo into the tiny bed, Ethan let out a breath of relief.
This room was cramped, so much so that there was barely enough space to bend down and take off shoes at the door. A narrow hallway led to an open kitchen. There wasn't even a separate bathroom.
No wonder Little Mo preferred public bathhouses.
As far as Ethan knew, cheap single-occupancy apartments like this usually didn't allow roommates. But due to how old and neglected the place was, no one cared.
And so, he had become the lone invader of a 3-tatami room.
In Japanese terms, a "tatami" was about the size of two standard floor mats. Three tatami came out to about ten square meters.
Ethan's bedroll consisted of the only spare pillow and blanket Komoe owned. If either needed washing, there was nothing to switch with.
That first night, he'd curled up beneath a jacket.
But now… he shamelessly accepted all her care.
Even though Komoe claimed she liked taking in runaway girls, she had never hosted a male guest for an entire month.
Ethan, it seemed, had become her one and only "God-Waiting Boy."
Their futons inched closer each night, eventually pushed together like a little family.
Clack
After brushing his teeth, Ethan turned off the lights and lay down beside her.
The familiar ceiling. The aging chandelier. He wondered how long it would be before all of this was blown into orbit, like in that one Index plotline about saving a certain little nun.
There wasn't a single real appliance in the room except the ancient TV. Only when Ethan arrived did Komoe finally clean up the mountain of ashtrays. Books, beer cans, and a pink-green Guata plushie lay scattered across the floor.
In an RPG, this would be the kind of house you'd barge into, grab a critical key item, and use it later to romance a heroine…
Maybe Railgun's favorite?
Looking at the mess, Ethan couldn't leave this little lady unsupervised. Honestly, it was hard to tell who was taking care of who.
"…I'll clean up tomorrow."
With that, Ethan closed his eyes.
The memories of the day surged through his mind, especially the moment he unlocked the seal.
He'd used Uiharu's hacker skills to find the hospital, then "coincidentally" met Heaven's Canceller and revealed his innate heal ability, earning the man's trust.
All of it had been planned from day one.
He'd later gained access to Level 2 mind hound from a patient, which he used to erase the last traces of his transmigration.
The immigration records were fake. The blank memories too.
He'd never even had to deal with Anti-Skill or Judgment.
Instead, he encountered Misaki Shokuhou. And thank God for that. Had he shown even the slightest mental hiccup, he'd have been exposed by that swarm of telepathic ojou-samas.
Inside Ethan's mind… was an operating system.
Gatekeeper.
A month ago, he'd used mimic to become a master hacker, drawing parallels between the human brain and computers. He built a personal OS inside his mind, complete with firewalls.
During those early days of mental chaos, he'd effectively "formatted" his brain.
Like a wiped hard drive with hidden partitions, the only person who knew the true encryption keys was him. Even Misaki's mental out would need time and elite hacking support just to scratch the surface.
And let's be honest… would those princesses really be able to endure what they found?
He had healed, and read, hundreds, maybe thousands, of people.
Each person's life was stored in his mind like a categorized folder. A black-hat hacker carefully sorted the memories, knowledge, and skills, keeping his mind from collapsing.
He could even still find memories from his "previous life." Every anime he'd ever watched. Though time had started corrupting some files.
The passive memory-wipe effect of mimic was still unsolved.
But the combination of mind hound and hacker tricks? Perfect.
"I'm a Healing Hero, but I play it safe."
"…Ethan… do you ever feel lonely?"
Komoe murmured in her sleep, turning over in her pink bunny pajamas. She kicked off her blanket again, her sleeping posture was a mess.
This woman had worked for years to afford this tiny home in Academy City. It was modest, but she was content.
Her small hand landed on Ethan's chest. He didn't move, just lay there staring at the ceiling.
"You came to Academy City after college, right? Hoping to find a cure? Your body… it's not from any esper ability or experiment, is it?"
Dwarfism. A rare condition caused by genetic defects, resulting in abnormal growth hormone levels and disproportionate development.
Most patients had visibly deformed limbs.
But Komoe… looked like a perfectly preserved twelve-year-old.
In other words… Loli Syndrome?
Ethan, now armed with Heaven's Canceller's knowledge, diagnosed her in an instant. He knew how to fix it, gene therapy and body calibration. But the cost was astronomical, far beyond the means of a humble high school teacher.
"Honestly… I've given up on treatment," she murmured, eyes still shut. "I've gotten used to this body. Being small lets me see things adults miss…"
Ethan could only admire her courage.
She had survived this brutal world, earning her degree with that tiny, tenacious body, then moved to a foreign city… alone.
"That must've been tough."
"You're the one I worry about, Ethan. That first night I met you… the way you looked back at me from the street… like a stray animal. I just… couldn't leave you there."
Kindred spirits.
Maybe that was when Komoe maternal instincts kicked in, for this lonely "delinquent."
Back then, Ethan's mind was filled with dark urges. He'd nearly gone off the rails, abusing delinquents just to relive their pain through heal.
It was Komoe's unexpected intervention… that healed him.
Thinking back, he'd treated this whole transmigration like a game. The plot characters were NPCs, nothing more than stepping stones for skills. But with this woman…
Komoe instinctively hugged his head like a mother.
Even in sleep, tears silently slipped down her cheeks.
"…It must've hurt a lot."
That soft voice, so gentle it gave him chills, wrapped around him like warmth for the soul.
Something as simple as Healing…
"…didn't hurt at all."
Ethan hesitated, then gently took her hand and cast thermal hand again.
Just in case she kicked the blanket off again.
He'd touched many girls in his path to copy powers, experienced countless memories filled with carnal encounters, but only this angelic little girl had made him feel… comforted.
Rotten as this world was, some still called Kokkoro "Mom."
But this little lady-in-disguise… "Mommy Moe"? Please, no thanks.
After healing her drunken symptoms, Ethan used mental out to give her a sweet dream. She smiled in her sleep.
"Goodnight. Sweet dreams."
...
The Next Morning
A shaft of sunlight broke through the window.
Komoe kicked off her blanket again, deep in slumber. The cold jolted her awake.
"Nnngh…"
The pink-haired girl sat up. Her bunny ears flopped. She rubbed her eyes, totally blanking on last night's events.
Strange. She had a hangover, but no headache?
"Moe? You up? Sun's already on your butt," called Ethan from the kitchen.
"M-My butt?! That's no way to speak to a lady!"
She instinctively covered her petite rear. Then she realized… at some point she had changed into her pajamas. And beneath them, nothing.
"…Where's my underwear?"
"Oh, your tank top? I already tossed it in the wash," Ethan said casually. "Relax. I helped you clean up and change."
She patted her flat chest. "Phew… that's good, wait, no! What did you do to me last night?!"
"…You were the one clinging to me, whining about needing to pee," Ethan said, looking puzzled.
"A-And then?!"
Flustered, she couldn't even finish her sentence.
As a veteran teacher, she should've been calm in front of a boy. But the tiny apartment didn't even have a bathroom. The only toilet was down the hallway.
"I carried you there, of course. You insisted I hold, "
"Don't say it!!" she squeaked, hands over ears.
Was this… the legendary post-drunk shame?
She vaguely recalled acting like a child, Ethan like a dad. But she was over thirty! A certified spinster!
"Relax. I cleaned you up," Ethan reassured her. "With Water Flow Control. No need for toilet paper. Also good for showers."
"That doesn't make me feel better at all!"
Ethan smoothly changed the subject. "So, did you sleep okay?"
That's when she realized, Ethan had made breakfast. Normally that was her job, apron and all.
What stood out the most… was how quiet the kitchen was.
As if he'd made every effort not to wake her.
"…I slept fine."
She remembered her dream. She'd finally grown up, curvy like Yomikawa, with long flowing pink hair…
A sweet, sweet dream.
So maybe her name should be… "Mega Moe"?
In her dream, Ethan had also been cured. Dressed in a dashing suit, holding flowers, kneeling like a prince.
"When I grow up… will you marry me?"
Meanwhile, Yomikawa, Tessou, and Yoshikawa all collapsed in OT2 despair poses, as she stepped triumphantly on each of their massive busts.
"Hahahaha!"
What the heck was that dream?! Marrying a student? Never!
"…Wait. Did you say Water Flow Control?"
"Yup. For wiping."
The true use of superpowers.
"That's not the point! Ethan, don't tell me- "
She rushed to the kitchen and froze in place.
"The ignition's busted again, huh?"
Ethan snapped his fingers, like one of those bad boys he'd copied. A tiny flame burst from his fingertip, lighting the gas stove that looked like a spaceship engine.
Whooom!
An invisible barrier activated, silencing the cooking noises.
Ethan cracked an egg with a thought. He didn't need to toss the pan, he used sheer willpower.
Strictly speaking: psychokinesis. He guided tiny droplets along the pan's surface with Water Flow Control.
"The Leidenfrost Effect, when liquid touches a superheated surface, it forms a vapor layer that makes it glide. My chemistry teacher taught me that. Even the cheapest pan becomes non-stick."
Little Moe looked so proud… until,
"Wait, that's physics, not chemistry!"
Whoosh!
A breeze swept through the apartment, pulling out the smoke. No fancy range hood here. Normally the whole place would reek after a single stir-fry.
A certain scientific… updraft?
And just like that, Komoe realized something.
In only a few minutes, Ethan had used Water Flow Control, Sound Barrier, and Wind Manipulation…
An impossible feat in Academy City, proven to be unattainable.
He had achieved what no one else could:
Multi-Skill.
And that boy, that calm, gentle boy cooking breakfast…
The legendary multi-ability esper…
Was living under her roof, smiling as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
"Morning, Moe."
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