After Tobio fell into a deep sleep—truly deep, with regular breathing and a face finally no longer tense. Dulio approached Nero, who was still standing near the door.
"You should see this data first," said Dulio, handing over a stack of medical report papers. "Very strange. No injuries to the eyes, but..."
Nero turned, receiving the papers with a hand that took them slowly. His brown eyes traced line by line, reading at an unusual speed—angels do have cognitive abilities above normal humans.
Eye structure: Normal.
No tissue damage.
No wounds, no injuries, no congenital abnormalities.
Nero frowned. He reread the section about perception. The human doctor's words sounded simple—"perception not normal"—but he knew what it meant behind the limited medical language.
Normal structure, but perception completely deviated.
That triggered a logical conflict in his mind. How could an organ function physically normally, but its output—what it produces—be outside the expected spectrum? This isn't an organ abnormality. This isn't a disease. This isn't an injury.
His eyes still work. But he doesn't see the world like other living beings.
He reads existence.
What disturbed Nero most wasn't what was wrong with Tobio's eyes. But what was right. No damage. No mutation. No signs that the child's body was trying to reject this change.
'This is like... a congenital condition. Or existential.'
He closed the report. His fingers pressed the paper cover for a moment, feeling the rough texture on his fingertips.
"Don't try to 'heal' this," said Nero, his voice low but firm. "Because this isn't something that's broken."
Dulio was silent. Nero looked at him briefly, then turned. His footsteps left the room without sound, like a shadow dissolving into the night darkness.
After Nero left, Griselda took the report. She didn't reread it. No need. She had read it before, understood its essence in one reading. Unlike the analytical Nero, Griselda was more practical—she drew conclusions without beating around the bush.
'Not broken. Means it can't be fixed.'
She closed the report. Her eyes shifted to Tobio, still asleep on the bed, with the golden necklace around his neck pulsing softly.
"This isn't an ability," Griselda murmured to herself. "This is a condition."
Dulio, who heard that, only sighed. He couldn't argue.
---
In Heaven, Nero knelt before the four Seraphs.
Michael sat on a white marble chair with his hands steepled before his face. Gabriel to his right in soft-flowing light blue robes. Uriel to his left with an unchanging stern expression. And Raphael at the end of the table in pale green robes, one hand supporting his chin.
"Tobio Ikuse's condition has stabilized," Nero reported, his voice firm. "The perception limiter artifact is functioning. He can sleep."
Michael nodded slightly. Relieved, but not visibly.
"However..." Nero continued, "his eyes have changed."
He described what he saw—a small galaxy with faint lights moving slowly, pupils with a pitch-black vertical crack that didn't reflect light.
There was no emotion in his description, only facts. But the facts themselves were heavy enough.
Silence enveloped the room.
Michael closed his eyes for a moment. He took a soft breath—not a breath of relief, but a breath acknowledging that this situation was not simple.
A galaxy... and a crack. That's not a wound. That's a reflection of his soul.
"At least," Michael said finally, "he's not getting worse."
Gabriel let out a long sigh—a breath held since first hearing the report about Tobio. Her small hands were folded in her lap, fingers intertwined.
"Thank goodness... he doesn't have to keep seeing."
Uriel showed no relief. His sharp eyes narrowed instead, like an eagle seeing something in the distance.
"Don't be mistaken," said Uriel, his voice low. "If he can control that condition... that means he's becoming harder to predict."
Raphael, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. His tone was calm, as usual.
"That's important. If he can rest, those cracks won't widen as quickly as before."
No one responded. For the four archangels, this wasn't a healing. No one could heal a wound like this. This was merely the first stabilization—a small step on a long road whose end was still unclear.
---
Morning slipped in through the gap in Tobio's bedroom curtain. Warm sunlight touched his face, slowly waking him from the deepest sleep he had experienced in weeks.
Tobio hadn't opened his eyes yet. His hand moved automatically—rubbing the slightly sticky corners of his eyes, stretching his arms up until he felt a crack in his shoulders, then sitting on the edge of the bed with slow movements.
The sunlight felt a little blinding even though his eyelids were still closed. He frowned, waiting for his eyes to adjust.
The bedroom door opened with a soft creak.
"Good morning." Dulio's voice, with its usual casual tone. "Though I didn't expect you to wake up."
Tobio yawned—wide, long, like a cat just waking up. "Good morning. It's been a long time since I slept this comfortably."
Dulio laughed softly. Not a mocking laugh, but a genuinely amused one.
"Sleeping for five days straight? That's not normal."
Tobio stopped. His half-open eyes now opened wide.
'Five days?'
He had thought maybe two days at most. Three days maybe, if his body was truly exhausted. But five days? That meant he'd lost almost a week just sleeping.
"At least not a full week," said Tobio. "I thought I'd only need two days."
Griselda entered carrying a tray with a bowl of warm porridge and a glass of water. Thin steam still rose from the surface of the porridge, carrying the aroma of chicken broth and green onions.
"Good morning," she said, her tone flat but not cold. "How's your condition? Can you eat?"
Tobio nodded. He took the bowl Griselda gave him, blew on the porridge briefly, then spooned it into his mouth. Warm. Savory. Whoever's porridge from this village always felt like a hug.
"Finished." After the last spoonful, Tobio turned towards Dulio.
"Dulio-kun, are we going to Kyoto tomorrow?"
Dulio smiled—a smile trying to be casual, but his eyes were serious. "Just call me Dulio. Actually, we were going to go a few days after you woke up. But since you slept quite a long time, we postponed."
Tobio shook his head. "Going after this is fine. Besides, I'm curious to see Kyoto." He paused briefly, then added in a slightly lighter tone. "I think there are hot springs there."
Griselda looked at him with unreadable eyes. "Alright. Don't do anything strange or cause problems there."
Tobio nodded. He stood up, took the towel hanging behind the door, and walked to the bathroom.
After showering and changing clothes, Tobio stood before the mirror—an old mirror with a rotting wooden frame. He looked at his reflection. Black eyes with small moving lights, and a vertical crack in the pupil.
At least now he could see people's faces normally.
He shifted his gaze to the wallet in his hand. Opened it. A 10,000 yen note, one 5,000 yen note, and a few coins. Total about 15,000 yen.
Enough to eat on the way.
He gripped the wallet, putting it in his pants pocket.
The bedroom door opened as he came out of the bathroom.
"Tobio."
Sae. She stood at the threshold with slightly red eyes—maybe from crying, maybe from lack of sleep. Tobio could see her face now. Brown shoulder-length hair. Green eyes that were always cheerful, but now looked gloomy.
Sae approached, her steps slow. "Are you leaving? Just like that?"
Tobio smiled. His hand lifted, his warm palm touching Sae's cheek—her round, soft cheek, which he had only ever seen as silvery light.
"I'm leaving for a while." His voice was soft. "Don't be so gloomy. I can see your face again normally."
Sae was surprised. Her eyes shifted to Tobio's neck, where the golden necklace with the small cross symbol hung. "Is it because of that necklace?"
Tobio nodded. "Yes. Send my regards to your mother. Don't worry, when we're grown up we'll meet again. Though I don't know when."
Sae looked at him for a long time. Her green eyes searched for lies, searched for false promises. But what she saw was only sincerity.
"Promise?" she whispered.
Tobio extended his pinky finger. "Promise."
Their pinky fingers intertwined. A promise bound in the simplest way, but the hardest to break.
Sae left after that. Her steps looked heavy, but she didn't cry. Perhaps because she had already promised.
Dulio, watching from a distance, said nothing. Griselda was also silent. They knew this wasn't the time to tease or ask questions.
Tobio turned to them. His face had returned to its usual calm.
"I'm ready. Let's go."
---
The three of them walked away from Hanyu Village. The morning was still fresh, dew still clung to the leaves, and birds still sang in the trees. Tobio walked in front, Griselda on his right, Dulio on his left—a formation that was accidental but felt like an escort.
After a few minutes of walking in silence, Tobio broke the silence.
"Can we just fly? Like Nero Raimondi?"
Griselda answered without turning. "We use the safest and most inconspicuous method."
Dulio added with a joking tone, "Huh? Want to be like Nero Raimondi too? Not everyone can fly casually like him, you know."
Tobio didn't answer. He only smiled faintly.
The journey to Tokyo took several hours. From village to small town, taking a bus, then switching to a local train, and finally arriving at Tokyo Station. Tobio hadn't seen a city this big in a long time—tall towering buildings, colorful neon everywhere, people walking fast with phones in their hands.
'Just as I imagined before. But...'
He realized something. People at the station were staring at him. Not just glancing—they were staring. Some with surprised expressions, some with curiosity, some with a little fear.
'They're seeing my eyes.'
Tobio ignored them. He was used to strange looks. Griselda and Dulio were more alert—their eyes moved quickly, scanning the crowd, looking for signs of danger.
But what surprised them was Tobio himself. The boy didn't react. Not awkward. Not embarrassed. Not afraid. He just walked as usual, looking left and right, enjoying the city scenery he was seeing for the first time.
'He's already used to strange looks,' Griselda thought. Perhaps since his eyes changed.
Tobio stopped in front of an electronics store. In the glass display, several smartphones were displayed with prices written beside them. His eyes fixed on two models.
iPhone 5s. 80,000 yen, including carrier.
Sony Xperia Z1. 70,000 yen, including carrier.
He opened his wallet. 15,000 yen.
A difference of 55,000 yen.
Dulio, standing beside him, observed Tobio's expression. He could read the child's intention from the way his eyes moved, from the way his fingers touched his wallet.
"Before you start thinking something strange," said Dulio, his tone casual but with a warning in it, "you shouldn't use that power for the lottery."
Tobio turned. "But I don't have money. If I ask Griselda Onee-san, maybe her money isn't enough."
Dulio smiled—a smile trying to keep the atmosphere light. "If you use that power, it's not a lottery anymore. That's called... cheating god-style."
He paused briefly, then continued in a more serious tone. "The problem isn't that you can win. The problem is... you're not playing anymore."
Tobio was silent.
"Use that power if necessary," said Dulio, "but not for things like this."
Tobio approached Griselda, who was standing a little further away, monitoring the crowd. "Griselda Onee-san, can I play the lottery? I need that smartphone. I don't want to trouble you."
Griselda didn't answer immediately. She looked at Tobio with sharp eyes—not angry, but serious.
This wasn't about a smartphone.
This was about using power for trivial things.
Once for something small, it would become a habit.
"No." Her answer was short, firm. "If you can guarantee the outcome... it's not luck. And that's not something you should get used to."
Tobio was silent again. He understood Griselda's point. But he also needed a smartphone—for information, for research on the underworld, for DeviTube which might give him access to things he couldn't get in the village.
"If you need a smartphone," Griselda added, her tone softening slightly, "just say so."
Tobio lifted his face. "That smartphone costs 70,000 yen. I only have 15,000 yen." He looked at Griselda. "Can you buy it?"
Dulio, who heard that, laughed softly. "Haha, that's true. Come to think of it, that's not a small amount. But it's not a reason to 'cheat'."
Griselda sighed. She understood. Tobio wasn't complaining. Wasn't begging. He was just stating facts.
"That's not a reason to use something like that," Griselda said finally. "If you need it, I can buy it."
Tobio smiled—a sincere smile, one that had rarely appeared lately. "Thank you, Griselda Onee-san."
The electronics store was clean and bright. Shelves were neatly lined with various devices—phones, tablets, laptops, accessories. A female cashier in store uniform smiled professionally as they entered, but her smile stiffened slightly as her eyes caught Tobio's.
A small galaxy in his eyes. A vertical crack in his pupil.
She didn't ask. As an electronics store employee in Tokyo, she might have seen many strange things. But this... this was a first.
"Can I help you choose a smartphone?" she asked, her voice trying to stay steady.
Tobio pointed to the glass display. "The Sony Xperia Z1 model."
The woman nodded. "Would you like without carrier or with? Installment or full payment?"
"With carrier. Paid in full."
Tobio turned to Griselda. Griselda sighed—a sigh that sounded like "I can't believe this is happening" but also "alright, I promised"—then took out her wallet.
"I'll pay for it."
A few minutes later, Tobio walked out of the store with a white box containing a Sony Xperia Z1 in his hand. He opened the box, examining the shiny black phone. Its screen was still dark, not yet turned on, but he could already imagine all the information he could access later.
DeviTube. Underworld forums. Information about Sacred Gears, about devils, about angels.
He put the phone in his jacket pocket, patting it once to make sure it wouldn't fall.
"Don't let it break or get lost, okay," said Dulio from beside him.
Tobio nodded. "I'll take care of it."
Kyoto Station was as crowded as usual. Tourists with colorful suitcases, students in neat uniforms, businessmen in suits with tired expressions.
Tobio walked among them with wide eyes—not from amazement, but because he had never seen such crowds with his normal eyes.
From the train window, he watched the scenery change. City buildings slowly transformed into green hills, then sprawling rice fields, then small villages passing by.
His eyes began to feel heavy.
But his body had been holding in exhaustion for too long. Five days of sleep might have been enough to restore his physical strength, but his soul—his cracked soul—still needed more rest. And the long journey from the village to Tokyo, then to Kyoto, had drained his energy.
His head began to nod.
Dulio, sitting across from him, watched. He saw Tobio's shoulders start to slump, his eyes start to half-close, his breathing start to become regular like someone about to fall asleep.
'If not watched over,' Dulio thought, 'I don't know what will happen later.'
Tobio finally fell asleep. His head rested against the glass window, occasionally swaying as the train passed uneven tracks. His pale face now looked calmer—perhaps because for the first time on this journey, he didn't have to push himself.
Griselda, sitting beside Tobio, glanced at him briefly, then shifted her gaze outside the window.
'This child,' she thought, 'is too young to carry all this.'
But she didn't say that aloud. She only let Tobio sleep, let the train carry them closer to Kyoto, to Xenovia, to the next chapter of a journey whose end was still unclear.
In the distance, Mount Hiei loomed behind a thin mist. Kyoto was waiting.