Far away in the human world, an old man sat in his small, crumbling house, his heart heavy with sorrow. He had already lost his son, Vitachi, to a mysterious disease unknown to mankind. And now, his grandson, Hitachi, was suffering the same fate.
They had searched everywhere for a cure, visiting every hospital in the city, but no doctor could help. They prayed to the gods, but no one answered. Vitachi died before a scientist named Mr. Mike could finally develop a cure—but it was too late. Worse still, the cure cost a staggering €55,000, an impossible amount for their poor family.
They could barely afford food.
Hitachi was just thirteen years old—too young to work even if someone would hire him. And in his sickly state, he could barely stand, let alone earn money. The doctor had given them a painful choice: gather the money for the cure or spend the little time left together.
The old man refused to give up. Every morning, he left home to beg on the streets, hoping to make enough for a meal. He had no strength to work, and Hitachi was growing weaker by the day.
Despair was creeping in. Hope was fading.
But they couldn't give up.
At School
That morning, despite feeling weak, Hitachi forced himself to go to school. He ate the last piece of leftover bread from the night before—just a few dry crumbs, barely enough to fill his stomach. But he was grateful for it.
When he arrived, he watched as his classmates were dropped off at the school gates in fancy cars, their fathers smiling and waving goodbye.
Hitachi's school was expensive, meant for the rich. He had only gotten in because of a scholarship, but that didn't change how others treated him. His classmates looked down on him, whispering about his ragged clothes and poor background.
He had no friends.
No one wanted to sit next to him. They claimed he smelled bad. He had gotten used to the loneliness, but it still hurt.
Then there was Jack—the school bully.
Jack was the oldest, the strongest, and the son of one of the wealthiest men in the city. He did whatever he wanted, and no one dared to stop him. The teachers turned a blind eye, and the students feared him.
During lunch, the cafeteria was filled with the smell of burgers, pizzas, and expensive meals Hitachi didn't even know the names of. But he had no food. He had already eaten his last meal that morning.
Sitting alone, he tried to ignore the hunger twisting in his stomach.
That's when Jack noticed him.
With a smug grin, Jack walked over and stopped in front of him.
"Hey, Hitachi," Jack said, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Why aren't you eating?"
For a brief moment, Hitachi thought Jack actually cared. But then, Jack threw his head back and laughed loudly.
"Hitachi doesn't even have money to buy bread!" he shouted, making sure the whole cafeteria heard.
The students turned to look, snickering.
Jack leaned in closer. "How do you even survive? You and your old grandpa live off one tiny piece of bread a day… Ain't you supposed to be dead by now?" He smirked. "You're a living ghost!"
Laughter erupted around them.
Hitachi clenched his fists. His heart pounded.
And before he could stop himself—he punched Jack in the face.
For the first time, the cafeteria fell silent.
Jack touched his cheek, stunned. Then his expression darkened.
"You're dead," he growled.
Hitachi barely had time to react before Jack's fist slammed into his stomach. Pain shot through his body as he stumbled back, gasping for air.
Jack punched him again.
Hitachi tried to dodge, but he was too weak. His body felt like it was made of lead.
Another punch.
Then another.
Hitachi collapsed to the floor. His classmates just watched, too scared to intervene. Some even laughed.
He called for help, but no one stepped in.
Just as Jack raised his fist for another blow, a teacher stormed in.
"What's going on here?!" she shouted, rushing over.
But by then, Hitachi could barely stay awake. His vision blurred. His ears rang.
And then—everything went black.
---
At the Hospital
The next thing Hitachi knew, he was waking up in a hospital bed. His grandfather sat beside him, eyes red and swollen from crying.
The doctor stood at the foot of the bed, his face grim.
"We've examined your grandson," he said, his voice heavy. "And I'm afraid… he doesn't have much time left. His disease was already weakening his body, but the injuries from the beating… they've damaged his kidneys. He won't last long without treatment."
The room fell silent.
The doctor continued, "For now, you can take him home. But if you don't get the money for the medication soon… he won't make it."
The old man felt his heart shatter into pieces.
He took Hitachi home, more desperate than he had ever been.
That night, he sat in their tiny room, staring at his sleeping grandson, crying silently.
He had failed him.
Tears streamed down his wrinkled face as he whispered, "I have to do something. Anything."
With newfound determination, he stood up.
Hitachi stirred. "Grandpa…? Where are you going?"
The old man didn't answer. He just ran out into the night.
Hours later, he returned, his face pale and haunted.
"My grandson," he said, voice trembling, "I… I have failed you."
Hitachi sat up weakly. "What happened, Grandpa?"
"I went to the bank… they refused to give me a loan. I went to court… but even the judge wouldn't take me seriously." He shook his head, his voice breaking. "No one will help us. I don't know what to do anymore…"
Silence filled the room.
Then—the air turned cold.
A shadow slithered across the walls, growing larger, darker.
The old man's breath caught in his throat. The room trembled.
And then, a voice—deep, powerful, ancient—echoed around them.
"I can save the boy."
—