As the conversation unfolded.
The girls who had been stiff with wariness and fear — having now confirmed that the luminous figure truly meant them no harm — finally began to let their guards down.
It started with just a few of the bolder ones.
They poked their heads out carefully from the corners where they had been hiding, their red eyes glinting faintly in the dark — like nocturnal creatures peeking out to study an unknown predator.
But when they saw that the glowing man carried not a single trace of hostility.
When they realized he was watching them with a gaze of extraordinary gentleness.
The curiosity that had been suppressed for so many years finally broke free — like a dam giving way all at once.
"Kami-sama... are you really Kami-sama?"
A little girl who looked no older than seven spoke up. Her voice was tiny, trembling with the fear of being told she was wrong.
"Was that giant eye in the sky earlier something you did? It was so amazing!"
Another child picked up the thread.
"All the monsters stopped moving! Was that you? Did you make them listen?"
Yet another voice joined in.
They chattered and chirped all at once — like a flock of sparrows that had gone too long without seeing sunlight, suddenly discovering a branch they could finally perch on.
Haimer did not interrupt them.
He simply listened in silence.
His gaze drifted across their faces — these little girls, the oldest of them looking barely ten, the youngest perhaps five or six. Their clothes were in tatters, their hair tangled in matted knots, their small bodies carrying the stale, sour smell of someone who hadn't been properly washed in a very long time.
Every face still held the soft roundness of a child's cheeks. Yet every pair of eyes was written over with a weariness that had no business belonging to someone so young.
They were at an age when they should have been curled in their parents' arms, demanding attention and comfort.
And yet they had already learned how to pick through garbage heaps for food. How to flee from humans who hunted them. How to run when one of their companions began to turn.
This world had given them nothing but malice.
And yet what they gave back to the world was still — cautious, fragile hope.
Hope. That was what Haimer saw in the eyes of these little girls, in the time since he had descended into this world.
This world had never once given them a reason to hope.
But now — it was different.
"Kami-sama, will we be able to eat our fill from now on?"
At that moment, a little girl so thin her bones were visible pushed her way to the front of the crowd.
She was very small — she looked around seven or eight years old. Her orange hair was a wild, unkempt mess, like a forgotten old mop left to gather dust in a corner. The grey dress she wore was at least two sizes too large, hanging loose and hollow over her tiny frame.
The moment she finished asking, her stomach answered for her with a loud, undignified rumble.
The little girl's cheeks flushed crimson on the spot. She dropped her head, fingers twisting the hem of her dress — dirty little hands wringing the fabric — her voice shrinking down to barely a whisper.
"S-Sorry... I didn't mean to..."
"Don't be afraid. It's all right."
Haimer's luminous silhouette smiled — a soft, helpless thing. He raised one hand gently.
The next instant.
Golden motes of light drifted from his fingertips, floating through the air like a swarm of glowing fireflies. They spiraled and gathered, slowly condensing in midair.
And then, from nothing — food appeared. Fresh bread. A bowl of steaming broth. A handful of vivid red apples.
The aroma spread instantly through the air.
"Wow..."
The little girls let out a collective gasp.
The girl who had been staring at her feet went completely still. She looked at the food with wide, frozen eyes, mouth hanging open.
The others couldn't help but swallow — but none of them reached out. Not yet. They watched Haimer with the cautious, animal eyes of creatures who had been tricked before, making sure it was truly all right.
"...Can we eat it?"
They asked in small, careful voices — voices laced with the fear of being told no.
"You can."
Haimer nodded.
"Go ahead and eat."
"All of it is yours."
"And if it isn't enough, there's more."
The words had barely left him.
With permission granted, their eyes turned red at the rims. They looked at the food once more — then, with trembling hands, reached out. Small fingers closed around a piece of bread or a cake, bringing it to waiting mouths.
And then, all at once, those eyes lit up.
"It's so good..."
"It's really, really good... hic... wuu..."
One of the little girls started crying in the middle of eating.
She kept stuffing food into her mouth even as the tears rolled down her face — cramming it in with both hands, sobbing and chewing at the same time, the desperate urgency of it enough to put an ache in anyone's chest who watched.
"Kami-sama, could I... could I have a new dress? One without any patches?"
Another little girl tugged at her own ragged clothes, eyes full of longing. The garment she wore had long since lost any recognizable color — layer after layer of mismatched patches stitched over one another, like something assembled from scraps of old rags rather than made whole.
"Of course."
Haimer gave a small nod. Light flowed.
Golden radiance wrapped itself around the little girl from head to toe.
When the light faded — the tattered dress was gone, replaced in an instant by something entirely new. A crisp white dress, its cuffs embroidered with delicate lace trim — clean and neat, and adorned with small, sweet decorations besides.
The little girl looked down at herself. She stood there frozen for several long seconds, the reality of it simply not reaching her.
"Is... is this really mine?"
"It is."
Haimer nodded.
"!!!"
"Thank you, Kami-sama! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
She looked down at the dress again, its skirt flaring as she spun — revealing spotless white stockings and a pair of small, neat shoes — and turned in place again and again, cheering, bowing toward Haimer, her little face alight with pure, uncomplicated joy.
With the first question answered, and then the second — more came flooding in.
"Kami-sama, my leg is hurt — can you heal it?"
"Kami-sama, I want a cloth doll. Is that all right?"
"Kami-sama..."
For every question these little girls asked, Haimer listened to each one in full — and then answered.
One by one.
That kind of attention was something utterly foreign to these children who had been treated as monsters since the day they were born. They had been taught from infancy that they were cursed existences — kindred to the beasts, enemies of humanity. Even those who openly advocated for "coexistence between humans and the Cursed Children" had never seen them as anything more than tools to be wielded against the Gastrea.
Not a single person had ever treated them simply as ordinary little girls.
But this Kami-sama was different. Entirely different.
And so that night, Haimer answered question after question — countless of them.
Some were about food.
Some were about clothes. Some were about a place to live. Some were about the adults who had chased and beaten them.
And some were about companions who would never come back.
And so.
As time passed, minute by minute — the deep ink of the sky began to give way, slowly, to shades of orange and red on the horizon.
Dawn was coming.
"Kami-sama! Kami-sama!"
At that moment, a little girl who looked no older than five or six pushed her way to the very front.
She was tiny — so small that she had to crane her head back to see Haimer's luminous silhouette at all. A round little face, enormous red eyes. She looked like a small, soft dumpling.
"What do you actually look like?"
She blinked up at him and asked.
"Why can we only see light?"
Straight from the mouth of a child, with no filter and no hesitation.
The other girls around her went quiet.
They wanted to know the answer too. From beginning to end, all any of them had ever seen was a blurred, glowing silhouette — the true face of this god had remained impossible to make out.
Haimer reached out and gently ruffled the little girl's hair.
The warmth of his palm passed through her strands to reach her.
Warm. Steady. Real.
"Don't worry."
Haimer's voice was soft.
"We will meet in person. I promise."
"In the not-too-distant future."
The little girl closed her eyes and leaned into the warmth above her head, savoring it.
"Really?"
"Really."
"Now then — if there's anyone you especially want to see."
"Or if there's anything still weighing on your heart."
"You can say it now."
"And if there isn't —"
"You can rest for now."
Haimer's voice gradually softened further.
"Close your eyes."
"Sleep."
"Don't worry — tonight."
"I am right here beside you."
"I'll stay with you."
"Until dawn breaks tomorrow."
"No monsters will come."
"No bad people will come."
As his voice gently settled into silence, so too did the little girls grow calm.
They had been eating and laughing and talking for so long — they were already utterly exhausted and barely keeping their eyes open. The only reason they had held on this long was sheer stubbornness: they hadn't wanted to miss a single moment with their god.
And so, in twos and threes, the little girls leaned against one another and closed their eyes.
The bolder ones went even further — wrapping their arms around Haimer's luminous silhouette and using him as a human-shaped pillow without a second thought.
Not one of them complained.
The sound of steady, even breathing rose and fell across the room.
These little girls — who had not slept a single peaceful night since the day they were born — finally, beneath the shelter of their god, drifted into a deep and dreamless sleep.
...
Elsewhere.
The Tokyo Branch of the International Initiator Supervisory Organization.
—
The International Initiator Supervisory Organization — IISO.
A global body responsible for managing and pairing Initiators with their Promoter partners, and for maintaining the IP rankings. Abbreviated: IISO. At present, 240,000 registered civilian police pairings were on its rolls.
For those Cursed Children who had registered as Initiators, the organization distributed suppressant medication on a regular schedule. In the event of a Promoter's death or loss of licensing, the IISO would take the corresponding Initiator back into custody at once.
In theory, its purpose was to manage the Cursed Children.
In practice, however — to the IISO, those Cursed Children who had lost their Promoters were nothing more than a resource. Expendable units to be deployed against the Gastrea.
Whether they had feelings. Whether they experienced fear. Whether they deserved to be treated as human beings.
That was irrelevant.
And so this facility, nominally a shelter for Cursed Children who had lost their Promoters, was in truth nothing more than a prison.
By the time Haimer arrived here, the place was already completely empty of staff.
The guards who should have been on duty had vanished without a trace the instant the Divine Eye descended — every last one of them, gone.
The entire Tokyo Branch of the IISO had only its detainees left now — the little girls locked in the holding wing.
"Kami-sama."
Tendou Kisara's voice came from behind him.
She was still in her blood-stained sailor uniform, the cursed blade Yukikage hanging at her hip.
The expression on her face had settled back into its usual composure — though deep in her eyes, a residue of dark, restless killing intent had not yet fully dissipated.
"I've confirmed it. Right now, there is only one girl left — the one in the innermost room."
Tendou Kisara finished her report.
"Understood."
Haimer gave a small nod.
Then he walked deeper into the facility and gently pushed open a door.
What greeted him was a suffocating expanse of white.
Pure white walls. Pure white floor. A pure white ceiling light casting a sterile, pallid glare over everything.
Huddled in the corner of that room was a little girl.
She was curled into herself — knees drawn up, head down.
Her orange hair hung loose and tangled on either side of her face. A color that should have been bright and vivid had gone dull from weeks without washing. The thin white dress she wore had long since faded to grey, marked in several places by obvious stains.
In a room this obsessively, almost pathologically white — she looked profoundly out of place. A small, dirty thing left in the wrong world.
What made it even more grim was this:
The room was bare. Completely empty.
No bed. No chair. Not even a single towel.
The IISO had put her here with one simple requirement: keep her alive. That was enough.
Anything beyond that — for a Cursed Child — was unthinkable.
"..."
Footsteps sounded.
No attempt to soften them.
The small figure huddled in the corner flinched immediately and snapped her head up.
It was a young face. Round cheeks. A delicate chin. A small, neat nose. Despite the pallor that came from long-term malnourishment, she was clearly a beautiful child.
— Aihara Enju.
One of the Cursed Children.
She carried within her body the Rabbit Factor of the Gastrea — granting her leg strength and leaping ability far beyond that of any ordinary human.
In the original story of this world, she was destined to become Satomi Rentarou's partner — growing stronger through battle after battle, forging herself in the heat of each fight.
But now, that story no longer existed.
Her scarlet eyes were full of wariness.
But then.
When she saw who it was — or rather, when she sensed the familiar presence radiating from the man who had entered — the guardedness in her eyes froze.
In its place came something that could only be called bewildered disbelief — and beneath it, a trembling of the soul that rose from somewhere deeper than conscious thought.
"Ka... Kami-sama...?"
Aihara Enju tried the words out tentatively, her voice unsteady — laced with the fragile caution of someone terrified to shatter a dream.
Haimer said nothing.
He simply looked at her in silence, and then gave a quiet nod.
Confirmation received.
The small body that had been wound so tightly — as though braced for one more blow — released all at once, like a cord finally cut.
And then.
A wave of overwhelming grief came rushing in.
Because the reason she had come to the IISO in the first place — the reason she had registered as an Initiator — was a promise they had made her. "Grow strong enough," they had said, "and you'll find your parents again."
She had believed it. Believed that tomorrow would be better. Believed there was hope somewhere in the distance. Believed someone was waiting for her.
Even a lie, if it gives you something to reach toward, can drive you to take one more step — and then one more — across an endless desert.
But.
A kind lie, however gently meant, is still deception.
And so.
When Haimer had appeared to Aihara Enju as a luminous silhouette — and she had asked that question — he had chosen silence.
A clever little girl needs no words.
Silence alone had told her everything.
She hadn't even needed to ask whether her parents were dead or had simply never wanted her.
Because.
From beginning to end.
It had all been a fiction. Every last piece of it.
A one-woman play performed entirely for her own benefit.
There had never been anyone waiting for her.
For a child who had been abandoned — the reason ultimately didn't matter.
The result was always the same.
She was surplus. She was refuse, discarded by the world.
If even the person who had given her life didn't need her — then what reason could the world possibly have to need her at all?
With that thought, Aihara Enju bit softly at her lower lip. The corner of her mouth trembled — as if she wanted to cry, but couldn't quite bring herself to.
____
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