Kurusu Kimihito has lived this day before—and he has watched everyone he loves die.
When he wakes on the morning of April seventh, trembling and drenched in sweat, he knows what's coming. Miia's arrival. The red rain. The Glow. The night that, decades from now, will still haunt his every waking moment. He survived it once, carrying nothing but regret for the girls he couldn't save. Then he died.
And then he woke up. Six in the morning. The same date circled in red pen on his calendar. A second
Monster Musume: Rewriting the Fates of Despair - Memory of the Red Rain: The Morning I Leapt Through Time
Claws grazed his back.
The feeling of flesh tearing. Hot. Painful.
Run. Run. Run.
His foot caught on rubble. He dropped to one knee. Shards of concrete bit into his palm.
Behind him, that sound. Wet. Crawling. Countless red eyes glowing in the dark.
He can't stand. His legs won't move.
Don't look back. Look back and it's over.
And yet his neck moves on its own.
Black mist. Red eyes. An open mouth.
"—!!"
Kurusu Kimihito bolted upright.
His heart was pounding. His breath ragged. His shirt clung to his back, soaked with sweat.
This is his room.
The familiar ceiling. Morning light through the window. The curtain swaying slowly.
It wasn't a dream.
This was no dream.
Kimihito covered his face with trembling hands. Between his fingers, his breath leaked out white.
"...I'm back."
His voice was hoarse.
He reached for the phone by his pillow. The screen lit up.
Six in the morning. The date: April seventh.
He looked at the calendar. A date circled in red pen. "Miia arrives," it said.
No mistake.
Today.
Today, Miia comes.
And tonight—the red rain falls.
Kimihito fought back the nausea rising from the pit of his stomach. Sourness crept up his throat. He pressed a palm to his mouth and bowed his head.
"Hah...!"
The memories come anyway.
Miia's smile. Papi's voice. Cerea's sword. Suu's antennae. Meroune's song. Rachnera's threads. Lala's neck.
They all died.
On the night of the red rain. At the hands of those monsters.
One by one, right before his eyes.
Only he survived. For decades, carrying nothing but regret.
And then he died.
And yet.
Kimihito gripped the phone. The screen shook with his trembling fingers.
A notification.
"Red Rain Alert App: Today's red rain probability 12% / Level 1 (Caution)"
Right. This world has this app.
Amagasa City—population two hundred eighty thousand—is designated a "Red Rain Zone." The red rain occurrence rate here is 2.3 times the national average. So every resident gets an app like this.
He swiped the screen and opened the news.
"Amagasa Guardian Bureau to Introduce New Observation Equipment—Director Sumisu: 'Citizen safety comes first.'"
The Guardian Bureau.
The national agency tasked with countering the Glow. Twelve Guardians, eight observers, two tuners. A three-story building next to city hall. An observation dome on the roof for monitoring red rain.
He knows all of it.
He walked these halls countless times, in the future.
Kimihito set the phone on the bed and stood.
His reflection in the mirror. Black hair, messy from sleep. Gentle brown eyes. White shirt, navy cardigan. Black slacks.
A hundred and seventy-two centimeters tall. Slim, but he's always had a stubbornly tough body.
An old scar on his left wrist.
A burn from childhood. The skin there is paler than the rest.
In the future, more scars layered on top of that one.
Kimihito looked away from the mirror.
He went to the kitchen. Opened the fridge. Six eggs. Milk. Vegetables. A faint memory of going shopping yesterday.
Future memories and present memories overlap, double-exposed.
It makes him sick.
A dull ache throbs behind his eyes.
He poured water into a glass and drank it down. The cold water slid down his throat. Just a little, he calmed.
"It's fine. I'll handle it."
Saying it out loud, convincing himself.
Today, nothing has happened yet.
Miia is still alive.
So.
—Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang.
Kimihito's body jerked.
He checked the clock. 6:20.
Early.
In his future memories, Miia arrived a little after nine.
...No, wait.
Were his future memories even accurate?
Kimihito walked slowly to the entrance.
His footsteps echoed far too loudly.
He put his hand on the doorknob. His fingers were shaking.
(It's fine. It's fine.)
He repeated it in his mind.
He opened the door.
Morning light poured in.
And there she was.
Vivid red long hair. Backlit by the morning sun, it looked like it was burning. Golden eyes with vertical slit pupils. Reptile eyes.
White skin. Slender shoulders. A loose, thin cardigan draped over a full chest.
And below the waist—a long, long serpent's body.
Deep green scales undulated across the ground before the door. Over seven meters from end to end.
A lamia.
A half-human, half-snake subspecies.
Miia.
Her golden eyes went wide.
"Darling!!"
The next instant, Kimihito's body was being crushed.
The serpent's body coiled around him. Arms, chest, legs—tight enough to creak.
He couldn't breathe.
"I missed you so much! I've been waiting and waiting for this day!"
Miia's face was right in front of his.
She was smiling happily.
That smile.
—The smile that vanished in the red rain.
Kimihito's chest constricted.
Not just from the snake's strength. Something deeper ached sharply.
"...Miia."
His voice came out. Hoarse. Shaking.
"Hm? What's wrong, darling?"
Miia tilted her head. Her red hair cascaded to one side.
"You look really pale, you know? Didn't you sleep?"
"It's nothing."
Kimihito forced a smile.
"Welcome, Miia. I've been waiting for you."
His mouth was smiling.
But his eyes weren't.
He knew it himself.
Miia stared at his face.
Her golden slit-pupil eyes narrowed.
"...Darling, you're acting weird."
"I'm just tired. I stayed up late getting ready yesterday."
"I see! Then let's take it easy today!"
Miia loosened her grip.
Her serpent body slid smoothly through the entrance.
"Wow, so this is darling's house! It's so big! Oh, a nice smell! It smells like darling!"
Miia undulated happily down the hallway.
Watching her from behind, Kimihito thought:
(She's alive.)
Such an obvious thing.
(Miia is alive.)
Heat welled behind his eyes.
Don't cry. Not yet. Don't cry.
Kimihito clenched his fists and took a deep breath.
"Come on, let me help carry your luggage."
"Ehehe, thanks, darling! Oh, but it's heavy, you know?"
"It's fine. I'm stronger than I look."
With that, Kimihito stepped outside.
Two large suitcases. Plus a temperature-regulation pad for lamias.
The morning air was still a little cold.
April in Amagasa City—mornings and evenings are chilly.
Lamias are cold-blooded. Vulnerable to the cold.
"I'll turn on the heater inside. It's cold today."
"Darling, you're so kind...! I love you already!"
Miia tried to latch onto him again.
"W-wait, I'm holding the luggage!"
Kimihito staggered but somehow made it back inside.
In his future memories, they had this exact exchange.
Nostalgic.
Painfully nostalgic.
Past noon.
Kimihito was walking through the neighborhood.
"I'm going out to do a little shopping," he'd told Miia, and left the house.
Truth was, there was nothing to buy.
But he couldn't sit still at home.
The residential district in eastern Amagasa City. A quiet street lined with old houses.
"Corpo Amagasa," where Kimihito lives, is a little ways down this street. A two-story apartment building. Rent is forty-eight thousand el a month.
El.
This country's currency. One el is roughly one yen.
A loaf of bread costs two hundred el. A night at an inn, eight thousand el.
A full set of Guardian equipment, about three million el.
—That kind of world.
Kimihito looked up at the sky as he walked.
Blue sky. White clouds.
Today, it isn't red yet.
But at night.
The phone in his pocket buzzed.
A notification from the Red Rain Alert App.
"Notice from observers: Tonight, weak red rain is possible. Level 1 (Caution). Please refrain from non-essential outings."
Level 1.
The lowest warning level.
The kind of thing that means "it might rain red, so be careful."
But Kimihito knows.
Tonight's red rain won't be Level 1.
Level 5.
Emergency evacuation.
And the Glow will appear.
—That's how it was in his future memories.
Kimihito quickened his pace.
He headed for the banks of the Amagasa River.
From the top of the embankment, he could see the river.
The Amagasa River. Three hundred twenty kilometers long. It flows south of Amagasa City and empties into the Lumina Sea downstream.
On the riverbank, neighborhood kids were playing.
Three boys, elementary school age. Kicking a ball around.
Kimihito went down the embankment and approached them.
"Hey, you kids."
"Oh, it's the big brother!"
"You came again?"
The kids ran up to him, laughing.
"Hey, mister. You gonna tell us something again today?"
"Today I came to ask you a favor."
Kimihito crouched down to meet their eyes.
"If the sky turns red, I want you to promise me you'll go straight home."
"Whaaat, that again?"
"Red rain hardly ever falls anyway."
"You worry too much, mister."
The kids giggled.
No wonder.
The dangers of red rain aren't explained in detail to ordinary citizens.
The Guardian Confidentiality Act.
A law restricting the disclosure of the Glow's existence to civilians.
Its purpose is preventing panic.
So to these kids, red rain is just "rain that's a little bad for you if it falls."
"Will you promise me?"
Kimihito said it again, his face serious.
"Please. If the sky turns red, stop playing and go straight home. That's all I'm asking."
The kids' laughter quieted, just a little.
"...Mister, your face is scary."
"Hey, did something happen?"
"Nothing happened. I just want you to promise."
Kimihito made a smile.
But he didn't feel like it was working.
"...Okay. I promise."
"Me too."
"Me too."
"Thank you."
Kimihito stood and ruffled each of their heads in turn.
"Alright, play safe."
"Okaaay!"
The kids ran off.
Watching them go, Kimihito let out a small sigh.
(This should change things, at least a little.)
In the future, these kids—
—Stop.
Don't think about it now.
Evening.
When he got home, Miia was in the kitchen.
"Oh, darling, welcome back!"
She was standing at the stove, maneuvering her serpent body deftly.
"What are you doing?"
"Making boiled eggs! I wanted you to eat something I made, darling."
Miia smiled proudly.
Four eggs in the pot. The water bubbled gently.
(Boiled eggs. That's safe.)
Kimihito recalled his future memories and felt relief.
Miia's cooking was catastrophic.
Lamias have dull taste buds. So she doesn't follow recipes. She eyeballs the seasonings. The result is something truly ungodly.
The only thing she could make properly was boiled eggs.
All you do is put eggs in boiling water and time it.
"Darling, they say timing is everything with boiled eggs! Miia is measuring properly!"
"Good girl."
"Ehehe."
Miia smiled, the tip of her tail swaying.
The tip of her tail.
A lamia's sensitive spot.
Apparently it moves on its own when she's happy.
"...Darling."
"Hm?"
"Your hands are shaking."
Kimihito started and looked at his own hands.
They were trembling.
"I'm just tired."
"Really?"
Miia slid closer.
Her golden eyes fixed on him.
"Darling, you've been weird since this morning. You're pale, your smile is weird, and your hands are shaking."
"..."
"Hey, did something happen? Miia wants to help you, darling."
Miia's hand touched his.
Cool to the touch.
A lamia's body temperature is lower than a human's.
And yet her hand felt strangely warm.
"Your worries are my worries, darling."
Miia looked straight at him and smiled.
"So don't carry it all alone. I want you to talk to Miia too."
That smile.
Those words.
In the future, she said the same thing.
And Miia—
—smiled, in the red rain, right to the end.
Kimihito looked away.
"...Thanks. But it's really nothing."
"Darling."
"Aren't the eggs about done?"
"Ah! Oh no!"
Miia hurried back to the stove.
Watching her back, Kimihito felt a slow ache deep in his chest.
(Sorry, Miia.)
(I can't tell you. Not now.)
(But this time, I swear.)
Eight PM.
Kimihito looked out the window.
The sky was red.
Not just the western sky.
The whole sky was beginning to stain red, slowly.
Like someone had poured water with thin blood dissolved in it across the heavens.
His phone buzzed.
"Red Rain Alert App: Red rain probability 78% / Level 1 (Caution) → raised to Level 2 (Warning)."
Level 2.
Still not a level
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