The hospital smelled of antiseptic, floor wax, and stale, recycled air—the kind of place that never truly sleeps. Riku had been sitting in the same molded vinyl chair near the far wall for four hours.
He didn't mind. In his old life, time had been something to kill, or waste, or wish away—minutes blurred into hours, days into years, until he looked up and realised he'd let his whole life pass him by. Here, it was different. Every breath, every quiet moment, was something to hold onto. Waiting was a skill—one to practice, refine, master—rather than just endure.
He breathed slow and steady, matching the rhythm of any resting five-year-old. Shoulders loose, legs swinging just enough to look natural, eyes soft and attentive. But his attention moved through the room like a slow, steady camera—lingering just long enough to see everything, never long enough to be noticed. He noted the shift in the nurses' weight as they moved, the way their hands found instruments without looking, the quiet language of glances and small nods that meant all is well or watch closely. Nurses smiled as they passed, then forgot him the moment they turned away.
That was exactly how he wanted it. Quiet, unseen — his greatest advantage.
Before leaving the manor that morning, he'd pulled up his status screen out of habit—five years of grueling, consistent training under Hiroshi and Yuki had shifted every number far from those humble starting values. Mornings before sunrise, evenings spent moving through forms until his muscles burned, lessons that had nothing to do with school and everything to do with seeing the world as it truly was. He wasn't strong yet—not by much—but he was becoming.
[STATUS]
Name: Riku Snow
Age: 5 years — 1988
Level: 7 (340/500 XP)
HP: 95/95 — Stronger every day
MP: 120/120 — Deep, still growing
STA: 110/110 — Enduring, steady
STR: 18 | DEX: 22 | CON: 17 | INT: 24 | WIS: 21
SP: 0/0 (Sealed — Level 25 required)
[SKILLS — ACTIVE]
Gamer's Mind Lv2 | Gamer's Body Lv2
Beginner Swordsmanship Lv4 | Mana Control Lv3
Footwork Fundamentals Lv3 | Observation Lv2
Breath Synchronization Lv2 | Mana Awareness Lv2
[ACTIVE QUEST]
Lay the Foundation — COMPLETE ✅
[NEW QUEST — STARTED]
Sharpen the Edge
Reach Level 10
Reward: +3 STR/DEX/INT, 500 XP
Groundwork is done. Now build something that lasts.
---
He closed the screen with a mental flick and followed his parents to the car without a word. Quests could wait. Numbers could wait. Today wasn't about training, or stats, or paths forward. Today was something else entirely. Something that didn't fit neatly into a status window.
--DxD--
Yuki lay in the bed across the room, at the centre of a quiet, focused storm.
She'd been in labour since the early hours, when the sky outside was still deep indigo and the world held its breath. No panic, no outburst—just breath after breath, each one measured, deliberate, the same fierce discipline she brought to magic lessons and sparring alike. Riku saw the cost in the way her pulse fluttered fast at her neck, the white-knuckle grip on the rail, the sweat glistening on skin that usually carried such calm. But she didn't fight the pain. She didn't brace against it or pull away. She moved with it—steady, methodical, not a single motion wasted. When it crested, she leaned into it, and when it receded, she rested, eyes closed, gathering every scrap of strength for the next.
Watching her, something quiet and genuine rose in his chest. This wasn't just a child's affection. It was respect—deep, unfeigned, the kind you feel when you see someone at their absolute strongest and understand exactly what it costs them.
Hiroshi stood beside her, hand wrapped tight around hers. That sharp, watchful edge he always carried—the readiness of someone who'd learned to see danger before it arrived—had softened into something else entirely. Not weakness. Protection. A strength turned entirely outward, every part of him focused on holding space for her. He wiped her forehead with a gentle care Riku rarely saw, whispered things too quiet to hear, and when she squeezed his hand hard enough to leave marks, he didn't flinch. Just held on right back.
Riku watched everything. Nurses moved in practiced silence, glances and small gestures doing the work of words. A monitor beeped steady and rhythmic, a quiet heartbeat overlaying her own. Outside, Kuoh stretched toward the horizon—1988, the height of the bubble economy, bright and neon and alive. A city full of people rushing to work, meeting friends, living ordinary lives, entirely unaware of the supernatural currents running beneath their feet.
He'd known this day was coming. Months of watching Yuki grow, counting the weeks, measuring against the timeline he carried in his head. He knew the era. He knew this was a quiet gap—years of relative calm before the world began to shift.
But he hadn't known her.
In every story he remembered, there was no Snow family. No sister. This wasn't a plot point he could predict. This was something new. Someone real. Standing right there, about to enter the world, and changing everything just by existing.
He closed his eyes.
And he felt it.
Not spiritual pressure—his powers were still sealed—but something deeper. His own soul, dense and awake, brushing against another. A faint, steady pulse, beating just slightly out of time with his own. Like two instruments tuning to the same note, from different rooms.
Small. Fragile. Still warm and safe and unaware.
But there. And it was real — pulling at him in a way he hadn't expected. He didn't push or reach too hard—just opened himself, the way Yuki had taught him to sense faint energy signatures. Made space. The presence flickered, soft and uncertain, like a candle flame leaning toward warmth. Then it settled. Steady. Curious.
So that's you, he thought, quiet and sure. You're almost here.
A notification appeared, pale blue and silent.
[QUEST — ASSIGNED]
Soul Thread
Maintain the bond.
Reward: Passive strengthening over time
Something has tied itself to you. By chance, by fate, by choice—yours now.
---
He didn't dismiss it. Let it rest at the edge of his awareness, and turned his attention back to the room.
--DxD--
Hours passed. The air grew thick and warm. Sunlight shifted across the floor, slow and golden, marking the afternoon slipping away. At one point, Hiroshi's jaw tightened—sharp, quiet, helpless—the look of someone who would take every ounce of suffering if only he could carry it for her. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, and for a moment Riku saw how tired he was, too.
Yuki never wavered. Riku watched, and learned, and stored every moment away. Will didn't mean feeling nothing. It meant feeling everything and keeping going anyway.
A nurse crouched beside him, kind and warm and used to waiting families. "Excited to meet your sister, little one?"
"Yes," he said. And it was true—the simplest, most honest thing he'd said since arriving in this world. No strategy, no calculation, just truth.
The cry came sudden and sharp. Furious. Loud and indignant, like she was already ready to argue with the universe. Before he knew he'd moved, Riku was on his feet.
They brought her over—small, swaddled, red-faced, and screaming—and placed her gently in Yuki's arms. Hiroshi made a sound halfway between a laugh and a breath he'd been holding for hours. He leaned his forehead against Yuki's, and for a moment nothing else existed. Not the nurses, not the room, not the world outside. Just them.
"She's perfect," he said, voice rough, thick with feeling.
Yuki looked exhausted—pale, worn, hair damp—but her gaze never left the bundle in her arms. She looked down with such tender wonder that Riku's chest felt tight. Then she lifted her head, found Riku standing there as if she'd known exactly where he was all along. "Riku… come meet your sister."
He stepped forward, quiet, careful, as if approaching something precious and easily broken. The floor felt steady beneath him, but his heart was beating faster than usual.
Kairi.
Tiny. So impossibly small it made his breath catch. Fists clenched tight, eyes unfocused, taking in light and sound with clear disapproval. Still crying—loud, fierce, unapologetic. Not fear, he realised. Just indignation. She hadn't asked for this bright, loud, cold place, and she wanted everyone to know.
He understood that feeling more than anyone.
Slowly, gently, he reached out. One finger, soft as he could manage, brushed the back of her hand.
Silence.
Not fading away. Just… stopping. Like someone had found the switch. Her eyes shifted, wandered, locked—somehow—straight toward him. The pulse he'd felt all day flared bright and warm and steady, settling into place. A thread. Real. Unbreakable. Stitched through both of them before either had drawn their first breath.
Not chosen. Just true.
Behind him, Hiroshi drew in a breath. "I see it."
"The connection?" Yuki asked softly, shifting Kairi in her arms.
"Stronger than it should be." His father's voice was careful, measured. "But not dangerous. Just… there."
Kairi's hand moved. Clumsy, uncoordinated, pure instinct—her tiny fingers curled around his. Held on. With a strength that made no sense for someone so small. It didn't hurt. It felt like an anchor.
Something settled deep in Riku's chest. Quiet. Permanent. He wasn't just navigating a world alone anymore. He had someone. Someone to protect. Someone who belonged to him, and to whom he belonged.
I've got you, he thought, and it wasn't a promise made to impress anyone. It was just a fact. Whatever comes. Whatever this world throws at us. I've got you.
The system chimed, soft and silent.
[ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED]
Big Brother
Some bonds form before you're ready. This one already is.
Reward: +1 WIS, +1 CON, 100 XP
[TITLE UNLOCKED]
Big Brother
Passive: +2 WIS while Kairi is near. The thread makes you sharper, clearer, always aware.
Equip? Y/N
---
He set the prompt aside. Menus could wait. Right now he just stood there—holding her hand—and let the moment breathe. Kairi watched him, eyes still cloudy but fixed, as if memorising his face. He didn't pull away. Just stayed there, small hand in his, while his parents watched them both with something like awe.
--DxD--
Later that night, after Yuki had finally fallen into a deep, much-needed sleep and Kairi rested quiet in the bassinet beside her bed, Hiroshi found Riku standing at the end of the hall, watching the city outside.
The hospital was quieter now. Footsteps softer, voices lower, the urgency of the day fading into the night. From up here, the neon glow of 1988 Kuoh was softer — golden and gentle, stretching out into the dark. Lights wound through streets like ribbons. Ordinary people, living ordinary lives, completely unaware of the ancient powers, old pacts, and hidden truths buried right beneath their feet.
Hiroshi pulled a chair close and sat down beside him. No big announcement, no serious preamble — just sat there, quiet, like they both needed the same thing. They watched the lights together for a long time.
After a while, Hiroshi spoke, low and steady.
"There are things in this city, Riku. Things that sense energy. Things that watch for what doesn't fit. Anything unusual… anything that stands out from the rest — they notice." He turned slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. "You understand what I'm telling you."
Riku nodded, slow and sure. "Stay quiet. Don't draw attention. Not yet."
Hiroshi held his gaze — that long, careful look, the one that saw past the five-year-old in front of him, past the face, past the years, right to the soul beneath. "'Not yet.' You say it like you already know where you're going."
Riku didn't look away. "I'm learning."
His father studied him a moment longer, then nodded — once, heavy and genuine. "Good." He rested a hand on Riku's shoulder — warm, solid, grounding. "Just remember… you don't have to carry it all alone."
He stood then, and left him there with the quiet and the lights.
Riku stayed by the window a little longer. Alone, he opened his titles — and selected Big Brother.
Instantly, something shifted inside him. The thread — that quiet tether to Kairi — warmed. Clearer. Brighter. Stronger. Down the hall, barely loud enough to hear, she made a small sleepy sound — half grumble, half sigh — and went quiet again. He could feel her there, soft and steady, safe.
He smiled, soft and private. Opened his quest screen one last time.
[ACTIVE QUESTS]
Sharpen the Edge — Reach Level 10 | Current: Lv 7
Soul Thread — Maintain the bond | Progress: 1%
---
The road ahead was longer, harder, and far more dangerous than anything he'd faced in his first life. But as he turned away from the window, he didn't feel the weight of it so much anymore. He carried something else now. A direction. A promise. A little girl who'd grabbed his finger and changed everything.
Not alone, he thought, as he made his way down the hall to where his family slept. Not anymore.