Infirmary, Afternoon...
Shoichi lay in the infirmary bed, staring at the wooden ceiling beams. His body was wrapped in bandages, burns treated with healing salves that glowed faintly green. Everything ached, a deep, bone-tired ache that made even breathing feel like work.
The door opened.
His mom walked in, carrying a cloth-covered basket. Her face lit up when she saw he was awake, though worry creased her forehead.
"Shoichi." She pulled a chair beside his bed, setting the basket down. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I got hit by a truck," Shoichi muttered, then winced. Wait. I actually did get hit by a truck. That's how I got here.
Mischichi smiled softly, brushing hair from his forehead. "The healers said you'll be fine by tomorrow morning. Your body responds well to magic." She uncovered the basket, bread, soup in a sealed container, fruit. "I brought you dinner. Hospital food is terrible."
Shoichi blinked. "You didn't have to"
"Of course I did." She started setting out the food on the bedside table. "You're my son."
Something twisted in Shoichi's chest.
My son.
In Tokyo, there'd been no one. His parents died when he was twelve. After that, it was just him, government assistance, a tiny apartment, convenience store meals eaten alone while staring at his phone.
No one had brought him homemade food. No one had sat beside his bed worried. No one had called him their son.
"Mom," Shoichi said quietly. "Thanks."
She squeezed his hand, eyes warm. "Eat. Rest. I'll be back tomorrow morning to walk you home."
After she left, Shoichi stared at the soup, still steaming, smelling of herbs and vegetables and care.
He ate slowly, and it was the best thing he'd tasted in years.
An Hour Later...
The door slammed open.
"SHOICHI!"
Kayuro barged in, grinning like an idiot, followed by Oberen and Ethen.
"Dude," Kayuro said, dropping into the chair his mom had vacated. "You destroyed the training ground. They're still trying to figure out how to fix it. Teacher Mirelle looked like she'd seen a ghost."
Oberen leaned against the wall, arms crossed, smirking. "Heard you hit Mach 2. That's insane for Novice III."
Ethen nodded enthusiastically. "And your flames, people are calling it the 'Golden Inferno.' Sounds way cooler than it should."
Shoichi groaned. "I'm in a hospital bed and you're here to make fun of me?"
"No," Kayuro said, pulling out a deck of cards. "We're here to play cards and keep you from dying of boredom."
They did.
For two hours, they played cards, argued about rules, told stupid jokes, and made fun of each other. Kayuro won most rounds. Ethen accused him of cheating. Oberen stayed quiet but smiled.
Shoichi laughed, genuinely laughed, until his ribs hurt too much to continue.
When visiting hours ended and they had to leave, Kayuro clapped him on the shoulder. "Get better fast, man. Missions aren't the same without you."
"Yeah," Oberen agreed. "Who else is gonna accidentally vaporize things?"
Ethen gave a thumbs up. "See you tomorrow!"
The door closed behind them.
Shoichi lay back, staring at the ceiling again.
In Tokyo, if I'd gotten hurt... who would've visited?
The answer came immediately: No one.
He'd had classmates. Acquaintances. People he exchanged greetings with. But no one who'd sit beside his bed for two hours playing cards. No one who'd care if he was bored or in pain.
Here, he had Kayuro, Oberen, Ethen. People who showed up.
Fighting is just a small price for this, right?
Evening...
Another knock.
Yuichi walked in, less energetic than the others but smiling. He had bandages wrapped around his torso, one arm in a sling. Somehow, he still looked composed.
"Shoichi." He pulled up the chair, settling in with a slight wince. "How are you holding up?"
"Better than I look," Shoichi said. "You?"
"Same." Yuichi glanced at his bandaged arm. "Healers said I'll be fine by tomorrow. Kurasaki family heals fast." He looked at Shoichi, expression thoughtful. "That fight was incredible. Your flame output, I've never seen anything like it."
"You were way stronger," Shoichi said. "Faster, more skilled"
"In technique, yes," Yuichi interrupted. "But raw power? You're on another level." He leaned back, studying Shoichi. "I've been training since I was five. My family specializes in fire magic, it's our legacy. But you..." He shook his head, smile widening. "You've been at this for what, three days? And you're already pushing Silver-level output."
Shoichi didn't know what to say to that.
"I'm not jealous," Yuichi continued. "I'm excited. It means I have to train harder. Can't let you catch up too easily." He stood, adjusting his sling. "When we're both healed, let's spar again. Properly this time."
"You're insane," Shoichi muttered.
Yuichi laughed. "Maybe. But so are you." He headed for the door, pausing at the threshold. "Oh, and Shoichi? Welcome to the academy. You're going to do great things here."
The door closed.
Shoichi stared at it for a long moment.
People believe in me here.
Night...
The infirmary was quiet. Most patients were asleep. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting everything in silver.
Shoichi lay awake, memories surfacing unbidden.
Tokyo.
His apartment. Twelve square meters. A bed, a desk, a tiny kitchen. Walls so thin he could hear neighbors arguing. The constant hum of the city outside, traffic, sirens, construction.
He'd wake up. Go to school. Come home. Eat alone. Do homework. Sleep. Repeat.
No one called. No one texted. His phone stayed silent except for spam and government notifications.
On weekends, he'd go to the convenience store, buy instant ramen, come home. Stare at the ceiling. Wonder if this was all life would ever be.
Lonely.
That was the word. Not sad, necessarily. Not depressed. Just... empty.
Like existing in a waiting room where no one ever called your name.
Lasland.
He woke up to sunlight and the smell of fresh bread. His mom called him down for breakfast. Kayuro barged in unannounced, complaining about missions, dragging him outside.
There were classes, sparring, friends. People who knew his name, remembered his rank, cared if he got hurt.
His mom brought him homemade soup. Kayuro played cards beside his hospital bed. Yuichi challenged him to train harder.
Not empty.
Warm. Loud. Chaotic.
Alive.
Shoichi closed his eyes.
His body ached from fighting. His hands were scarred. His ribs still hurt to breathe.
But when his mom squeezed his hand and said you're my son, when Kayuro grinned and said missions aren't the same without you, when Yuichi said you're going to do great things.
Maybe the fighting is just a small price to pay.
For warmth. For connection. For people who cared.
Yeah, Shoichi thought, drifting toward sleep. I can live with that.
Next Morning...
Shoichi woke to sunlight and the sensation of not hurting.
He sat up, blinking. The bandages were still there, but the pain was... gone. Completely gone. He flexed his hands, no stiffness. Rolled his shoulders, no ache.
A healer walked by, glancing at his chart. "You're cleared. Healing magic finished overnight. You can leave whenever you're ready."
Shoichi stared at his hands.
Healed in one night. Fantasy worlds are insane.
Training Ground...
Shoichi stood in the center of an empty field, the morning air cool and still.
He thought about what Yuichi had said. About getting stronger. About doing great things.
He thought about his mom bringing him soup. Kayuro playing cards. People caring.
This is a fantasy world, he thought. Fantasy worlds have threats. Big ones. Demons, monsters, maybe worse.
And I... I care about the people here.
His mom. Kayuro. Oberen. Ethen. Even Yuichi. The merchants in town. The kids playing in the streets. The miners he'd rescued.
If something happens, if something threatens them
He clenched his fists.
I want to be strong enough to protect them.
It felt dramatic. Cheesy, even. Like something out of a shonen manga.
But he meant it.
Shoichi started running. Not fast, just a steady jog around the field. Then push-ups. Sit-ups. Squats. Basic exercises. His body responded easily, muscles barely straining.
Right. Normal workouts won't cut it.
He tried harder. Faster. Pushed himself until his breathing quickened, until his muscles burned slightly.
Better.
"SHOICHI!"
He turned.
Kayuro, Oberen, and Ethen stood at the edge of the field, grinning.
"Dude, you just got out of the infirmary and you're already training?" Kayuro called out. "That's dedication!"
Oberen nodded approvingly. "Respect."
Ethen pumped his fist. "That's the spirit!"
Shoichi felt his face heat up, embarrassed. "I'm just"
"Being awesome," Kayuro finished, walking over. He grabbed Shoichi's hoodie and started dragging him toward the academy building. "But you're also supposed to be resting. So let's go. Class starts in ten minutes."
"Wait, I can walk"
"Nope. You just got healed this morning. No arguments." Kayuro didn't let go, practically hauling Shoichi along while Oberen and Ethen laughed.
"He's not wrong," Oberen said. "You should take it easy."
"At least for today," Ethen added.
Shoichi stopped resisting, letting Kayuro drag him along.
And despite everything, the embarrassment, the soreness, the absurdity, he smiled.
Yeah. This is worth it.