His left shoulder blade was hot. The moment Rei realized this in his dream, he woke up. A concrete wall. The smell of salt water. The sound of water echoing from somewhere distant. This was the underground drainage system of Misono Coastal Ward—a branching point in a tunnel 2.5 meters in diameter. A single blanket, several cans of food, an old radio. That was Kirishima Rei's entire fortune, and this place was Kirishima Rei's home. He slowly pushed himself up. The thin blanket slid away. When he rolled up the sleeves of his black hoodie, he could see an old mark on the inside of his left wrist—like a scar from cancer treatment, it had been there since birth. Silver hair with white streaks fell across his forehead. He brushed it back with the back of his hand, and his amber left eye and deep crimson right eye adjusted to the darkness, clearly reflecting the outline of the drainage system. 165 centimeters tall, thin build, small frame. Sixteen years old. But his face—people sometimes said he looked older. Actually, he thought that was probably right. (I have no birth certificate.) Rei thought vaguely. He'd developed a habit of confirming this same thing every morning he woke up. It wasn't that he'd forgotten. He just couldn't settle down without checking. Twenty-nine years ago, the government created a law called the "Ability Management Act." About 4.7% of the population had begun manifesting supernatural powers—"abilities"—and society had panicked. The law's content was simple. Anyone with an ability must carry an "Ability Registration Certificate" with an IC chip. That was all. As long as you registered, you'd be treated like a normal citizen. But registration required a birth certificate. Without a birth certificate, I had no place in the system from the start. Rei accepted this not with anger or sadness, but as simple fact. He'd spent a long time sinking anger and sadness to the bottom of his emotions. He'd become good at sinking them. He turned on the old radio, and beyond the static hiss, late-night news came through. Without really listening, Rei picked up a can of food. He pulled the tab. Cold corn soup went down his throat. It tasted bad. But he couldn't move without eating. That was enough. —Then he heard it. Faint footsteps from above ground. That alone wouldn't be unusual. But the next moment, a mechanical sound mixed in. An electronic beep—short and sharp. Not just once. Repeated several times. Rei's hand stopped. He slowly set the can down on the ground. (That sound is—) His body moved naturally. --- There were five exits from the drainage system. Rei had memorized all their locations—something he'd spent ten years learning, something he absolutely couldn't forget. He crawled toward the nearest exit. He lifted the iron circular lid just a few centimeters. What came into view was white light. Kagerō Street was lit up like daytime. Searchlights. Multiple powerful lights illuminated every corner of the shopping district. Black-uniformed figures moved through that light. Krantz Security Bureau—the "Ability Incident Response Security Bureau." Officially, an organization to manage ability users and protect citizens. The officers were blocking alley exits and setting up equipment at every entrance. Portable small-scale sensors—an expanded version of the Pulse Gate. There were about 340 fixed units throughout Tōma City, but apparently tonight they'd decided that wasn't enough. Beep. The sensor sounded. A man nearby had his arm grabbed. (Orgu waves.) Rei murmured in his mind. When ability users used their powers, they unconsciously emitted trace amounts of Orgu waves—a type of bioelectric energy. The Pulse Gate detected them and cross-referenced with the Ability Registration Certificate database. If an unregistered waveform appeared, immediate notification. Rei checked the inside of his own left wrist. A thin electronic device was wrapped around it—an Orgu wave detector he'd made himself. Right now it vibrated silently. Good. Proof he wasn't using his ability. But he couldn't let his guard down. He held his breath and observed the outside through the gap in the lid. The owner of the diner "Dongame" was pushed against a wall. The proprietor of the antique shop "Yoru no Kagi"—a small man who also worked as an information broker—was restrained by both arms as he stepped into the alley. A man sleeping on the street was pinned to the ground before he could even cry out. They were all people he knew by sight. Rei didn't move a millimeter. He couldn't move. If he moved, Orgu waves would come out. The sensor would catch him. It would be over. So he could only watch. He could only watch and do nothing. --- Then, at the edge of the street, he saw a white head. Something froze in Rei's chest. It was Tae. An old woman in her sixties. A long-time resident of Misono Coastal Ward, a denizen of the underworld. Not an ability user. Just an ordinary, stateless old woman. When Rei was young—back when he didn't even know how to use the drainage system, wandering the alleys searching for food—Tae had wordlessly offered him leftover rice. It wasn't warm, and it wasn't particularly delicious, but it was definitely food. He'd never asked. Why she gave it to him, he'd never asked once. Tae had never explained either. That was the rule of this place. Now that Tae was being grabbed by the hair by an officer. White hair disheveled. An aged body dragged across asphalt. No sound came from her. That made it cut deeper into his chest. (Tae isn't an ability user. Just a stateless old woman.) People without birth certificates were as good as "non-existent" to Krantz. So whatever was done to them didn't matter—that's how it worked. Legally, that's how it worked. Rei's right hand moved naturally. The shadow at his feet wavered slightly. A shadow arm—extending a black arm-like form from his own shadow. If he swept away the officer's wrist holding Tae, it would be over in a second. He thought that. The next instant. The detector on his wrist vibrated faintly. Rei stopped moving. Slowly, he pulled his hand back. He erased the shadow. He dissolved into darkness. (If I use it, it's over. Orgu waves come out. My location gets exposed. If I get caught—not only will I fail to help Tae, everyone here will get caught up with me.) His head understood it clearly. He understood it was the right decision. But in his chest, anger and helplessness kept spinning. They wouldn't stop. They kept spinning. Tae disappeared around the corner of the alley. Rei didn't move. He just held his breath in the darkness. This is daily life, Rei thought. I want to help but can't. I want to exist but can't. I've spent ten years getting used to it—or so I thought. --- After a while, another sound came. Heavy footsteps on the drainage system lid. More than one person. The rhythm of the footsteps was synchronized—the movement of trained people. A search team had come to the drainage system too. Rei moved quickly. He abandoned the blanket. He abandoned the cans. He left the old radio behind. He thrust his hand into the pockets of his tattered jacket and pulled out only two things. A rust-eaten knife and a black notebook with a tattered cover. He stuffed only those in and ran. Shadow Concealment. A technique to sink his own body into shadow. Literally becoming shadow. Dissolving into the shadow of a wall, swimming through the shadow on the ground. His form disappeared, but he couldn't breathe. The limit was thirty seconds. Beyond that, consciousness would fade. Rei began counting in his head. One, two, three—northward through the drainage system. Moving through the dark tunnel on memory alone. Turn right, left at the branching point, then straight from there—it was all in his head. Ten years of drilling it into his body. Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty. Surface. He took one breath in the dim space. He filled his lungs with air and sank again. He repeated it. Three times, four times, five times. His hand reached the upper exit. When he pushed the lid up, night wind brushed his face. The moment he emerged, he looked back. A warehouse was burning. The abandoned warehouse district at Misono Third Wharf—flames rose from the end building of the twelve structures standing there. He confirmed the direction the searchlights and sirens were moving away, then headed the opposite way. He ran, dissolving into the darkness. That's when he noticed it. His left shoulder blade was warm again. (Fatigue, probably.) He made that judgment and ignored it. He'd run at full speed, so that was natural. The geometric circular mark—a brand carved into his left shoulder since birth—was glowing ever so faintly, but Rei hadn't noticed yet. --- In the underground water system, in a place close to a dead end. Rei hugged his knees and leaned his back against the wall. He waited a moment for his breathing to settle. Complete darkness surrounded him. The smell of salt water. The sound of water dripping somewhere far away. It was quiet. Too quiet—it made what happened earlier feel like a dream. (It wasn't a dream.) The knife in his hand taught him reality. The cool touch of metal was definitely there. He opened the black notebook. The cover was tattered, and the inside was just filled with incomprehensible symbols and characters. He didn't even know what language it was. He'd carried it for years without ever being able to decipher it. He kept it thinking that maybe someday he'd be able to read it, but he didn't know when that someday would come. He closed it with a soft sound. (I've lived for sixteen years.) Rei thought vaguely. He'd given himself the name. "Kirishima Rei"—zero in the mist. Somehow, it felt right. He'd confirmed his face in the water puddles of the drainage system. His left eye was amber, his right eye deep crimson. He'd only learned that relatively recently. He didn't know his parents' faces. He didn't know where he was born. Without a birth certificate, legally he was as good as never born. Anger and sadness—he'd spent a long time sinking those emotions to the bottom. Sinking them, sinking them, until now the surface was far away. He'd only thought about surviving, made that his only purpose, and come this far. That was enough. He'd thought it was enough. —But tonight, watching Tae being dragged away. Something in his chest had wavered slightly. It might be anger. It might be sadness. Or it might be something completely different. Rei had no name for that sensation. To sink it to the bottom, he'd need to know its name. Not knowing what to do, he just left it there in his chest. Fatigue made his eyelids heavy. That's when—his left shoulder grew hot again. Slightly stronger than before. A warmth from deep within his skin. Rei frowned and pressed his left shoulder with his hand. (What is this...) But no answer came. Before he could think, sleep took him. In the depths of the darkness, Kirishima Rei fell quietly asleep. His entire fortune was just two things. A rusted knife and an unreadable notebook. The hideout he'd spent ten years building, he'd abandoned tonight. Where he'd go tomorrow was still undecided. His stomach was still empty. And yet—something felt like it had changed slightly tonight. Rei still didn't know what that "something" was.