Kei Kurotori, a 28-year-old struggling novelist, is told by his editor he has no talent. That night he drinks himself into a stupor. He wakes the next morning in an unfamiliar forest. It is Gensokyo, a world where humans and youkai coexist. His right hand now holds the power to rewrite the nature of whatever he touches. But there is a condition: only changes he can clearly imagine in his mind will become reality. Anything he cannot picture remains unchanged.
In the forest, Kei encounters the sh
Illusion Killer — Rewriting Everything It Touches - The Forest Apothecary — Called a Monster, Yet She Never Leaves
Morning light filtered thinly through the gaps between the trees.
Kurotori Kei woke on the cold ground. No—to be precise, he hadn't been asleep. He had spent the entire night fighting the pain in his broken arms, enduring it to keep from losing consciousness.
(...Morning, huh.)
Kei drew a deep breath of the soil's scent. Damp fallen leaves and rotting wood. Last night, Osaki Ginji had trapped him and broken both his arms. The rewriting power dwelling in his right hand was still sealed by something. Even when he tried to focus strength into his fingertips, nothing happened. That heat—he couldn't feel it.
Kei tried to move his broken arm.
Agony.
He heard the sound of bone shattering inside flesh. Kei gritted his teeth and swallowed the scream. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. His breathing grew shallow, the back of his throat drying out. The taste of iron spread across the root of his tongue.
(Move. Move, damn it—my arm.)
But his body wouldn't obey. Ginji's men had dragged Kei deep into the forest and dumped him there. As if to say: wait to die. In truth, if he couldn't move, he would have become youkai food during the night. Whether it was luck or misfortune, nothing had come.
Kei lay on his back and looked at the sky.
The morning light shone through the leaves, wavering gold. Each time the wind blew, motes of light scattered.
(Beautiful.)
The fact that he could think that struck him as absurd.
(What am I even thinking, at a time like this.)
Kei quietly closed his eyes.
Ginji's face surfaced. That smile. That thin, mocking smirk. *I'll frame you as the culprit. Your power will be mine*—the look in his eyes when he'd said it. The corner of his lip had curled up slightly, to the left. His voice had been calm. Too calm. It had raised goosebumps.
(That bastard...)
Anger seethed in the pit of his stomach. But what dominated Kei's heart even more was a different emotion.
Reimu.
Hakurei Reimu. That shrine maiden. Kei had killed her with his own hands. The sensation still lingered on his palm. The moment a tree branch had turned into a blade—the feedback. The feeling of something hard piercing something soft. And then the weight of Reimu's body losing its strength. His arms had suddenly grown heavy, then cold.
(I killed her.)
That fact weighed far more than the pain in his arms. Far deeper. It sat at the bottom of his being like a black mass. With every breath, that mass grew a little larger.
(If I just died like this, would it be easier?)
The thought flickered through his mind.
If he died, the pain would vanish. The rage toward Ginji, the guilt toward Reimu—everything. All of it, gone.
(...That would be easy.)
Kei opened his eyes.
The morning light was blinding. A white afterimage burned into the back of his retinas.
(But that's just running away.)
Kei focused strength into his broken arm. Agony shot through him. Bone creaked. He heard a grinding sound deep in his ears.
"...Ngh...!"
A sound escaped him.
(Don't run. I won't run from Reimu. I won't run from that sin.)
Kei pressed his right palm against the ground.
The cold feel of soil. Damp grains slipped between his fingers.
(Heal my bones.)
Kei pictured the inside of his arm in his mind. The broken bone. The shattered fragments. The torn flesh. All of it, returning to its original form.
(Rewrite it toward healing.)
His right hand grew warm.
Just a little. The sealed power leaked out, ever so slightly. His fingertips burned as if pricked by needles.
"...Ah... aah...!"
Kei screamed.
Bone moved inside flesh. Shattered fragments returned to their original positions. It wasn't healing—it was something far more violent, a forced rewriting. The pain only intensified. His own body was breaking and repairing itself by his own will. His teeth felt like they were floating. His mouth filled with the taste of blood.
"AAAAAAAH!!"
Kei's scream echoed through the silent forest.
Birds took flight all at once. The sound of wings faded into the distance.
How long had he been like that?
Kei, breathing raggedly, looked at his right arm. The bone hadn't fully returned. But his fingers could move a little now. His index and middle fingers twitched spasmodically.
(Little by little... I can get it back.)
Kei pressed his palm against the ground again.
That was when it happened.
"...Is someone there?"
A young woman's voice.
Kei raised his head.
From beyond the trees, a girl was peering at him timidly.
Chestnut-brown braids. Large brown eyes. A cloth bag of medicinal herbs on her back. A white bandage on her left wrist. She looked about fifteen or sixteen. A resident of the Human Village, most likely.
The moment the girl saw Kei, she froze. A sound of air catching in her throat.
"...You're..."
The color drained from her face. Her lips turned purple.
"It was on the village bulletin board... posted there..."
She took a step back. A dead branch snapped underfoot.
"The outsider who killed Lady Reimu..."
Kei looked at the girl.
(That's right. I'm a murderer.)
Kei said nothing and pressed his palm against the ground again.
(Don't mind her. Right now, just focus on healing my bones.)
Kei imagined it again. The broken bone, returning to place. The shattered fragments, reconnecting.
His right hand grew warm.
"...Ah... ngh...!"
Kei stifled his voice. But the pain mercilessly pierced through him. His back teeth chipped. The taste of iron intensified.
"W-what are you... doing...?"
The girl's voice trembled. Her throat twitched.
Kei didn't answer.
"P-please stop...! If you keep doing that, you'll die...!"
She shouted it. Her voice cracked.
Kei glanced at her.
(Is she worried about me?)
(About a murderer? An outsider?)
Kei let out a small breath. The air in his lungs tasted sour.
"...It's none of your concern."
Kei said it shortly.
"It has nothing to do with you. Go."
The girl's shoulders flinched.
But she didn't run. Her feet seemed nailed to the ground.
"...I can't go."
She spoke with a shaking voice.
"Even if you're a monster... I can't just abandon you."
Kei looked directly at her face.
Her brown eyes were moist with tears. Her body trembled with fear. Her knees shook faintly. And yet, she didn't look away from Kei.
(Monster, huh.)
Kei looked at his right hand.
A filthy hand covered in scars. A hand that had erased people. A hand that had killed Reimu. Dirt was still packed under his nails.
(She's right.)
Kei turned his back to the girl.
"...Do what you want."
Kei pressed his palm against the ground once more.
"Wait, please!"
The girl ran to Kei's side. Her footsteps crunched on the leaves.
"I'm an apprentice pharmacist. My name is Kiryu Gureha. Please, let me look at your arm."
She reached gently toward Kei's broken arm.
Kei reflexively pulled away.
"...Don't touch me."
"But at this rate, you really will die."
Gureha stared intently into Kei's eyes. A small light wavered deep in her pupils.
"I want to help you."
Kei looked into Gureha's eyes.
(Help me, she says.)
(Me? A murderer?)
Kei let out a small breath.
"...Why?"
At Kei's question, Gureha thought for a moment before answering.
"...Why, indeed. Even I don't really understand. It's just—your eyes looked so sad."
Gureha smiled a little, as if embarrassed. Her lips curved slightly.
"I just couldn't leave you alone."
Kei said nothing.
Gureha began carefully examining Kei's arm. Her fingertips traced the shape of the bone.
"...The bone is broken in a complicated way. But it's already starting to heal, just a little...?"
Gureha looked at Kei's arm with a puzzled expression.
"What were you doing earlier? Pressing your hand to the ground and... screaming..."
Kei didn't answer.
"...My family has a storage shed near here. Can you walk to it?"
Gureha tried to support Kei's shoulder.
Kei brushed her hand away.
"...I can walk on my own."
Kei somehow managed to stand, guarding his broken arm.
Agony. His vision burst white. Tinnitus rang in the distance.
"...Ngh!"
Kei staggered.
Gureha quickly caught him.
"Don't push yourself. Lean on me."
Gureha's arm went around Kei's back.
(...Warm.)
Kei felt the warmth of Gureha's hand. Through the cloth, he could feel how thin her arm was.
(When was the last time someone touched me?)
Supported by Gureha, Kei began walking through the forest.
Dappled sunlight cast soft light at their feet.
---
Gureha's storage shed stood in a small clearing deep in the forest.
An old wooden shed. The scent of medicinal herbs drifted from inside. When she opened the door, a pungent, green aroma stung the back of his nose.
Gureha led Kei inside, spread out an old blanket, and sat him down on it.
"Please wait a moment. I'll get my first-aid supplies."
With that, Gureha disappeared into the back of the shed.
Kei looked around.
Dried herbs hung in bunches from the walls. Shelves held mixing bottles and mortars. On a small desk lay an open, half-finished herbal encyclopedia. The edges of the pages were worn thin from being turned so many times.
(So this is her workplace.)
Kei sensed the smell of Gureha's life here.
After a while, Gureha returned.
She carried cloth, herbs, and a wooden splint.
"I'll administer first aid now. It might hurt a little."
Gureha knelt before Kei and carefully applied herbs to his broken arm. The cool leaves touched his skin.
"...This is a herb that helps with pain and aids bones in knitting together."
Her hands were precise, without hesitation.
Kei watched her work in silence.
"...You're skilled."
When Kei said that, Gureha smiled, looking a little pleased.
"I'm an apprentice pharmacist. I've been at this for three years, you know."
Gureha applied the wooden splint and bound it with cloth. The tight bandage bit into his skin.
"This should make it a little easier. Here, please eat this."
Gureha took a package from her cloth bag.
Inside were two rice balls.
"...Sorry for the trouble."
Kei accepted the rice balls.
"Not at all. It's my share, so don't worry about it."
Gureha sat down across from Kei.
"So... I have a lot of things I want to ask."
Gureha looked steadily into Kei's eyes.
"What are you?"
Kei took a bite of the rice ball.
The taste of rice seemed strangely sweet. Saliva welled up.
"...Kurotori Kei. I came from the outside world."
Kei answered briefly.
"The outside world... I knew it, so that's it."
Gureha nodded slightly.
"And that right hand of yours...?"
Her gaze settled on Kei's right hand.
The scar-covered right hand.
Kei hesitated for a moment, then spoke.
"...It's a power that rewrites the nature of whatever it touches."
Kei looked at his right hand.
"I can only change what I can imagine. What I can't imagine doesn't change at all."
Gureha's eyes went wide.
"...A rewriting power..."
She swallowed hard. Her throat moved slightly.
"Then what you were doing earlier, pressing your hand to the ground..."
"I was trying to heal my own bones."
Kei spoke matter-of-factly.
"I was rewriting the broken bones toward healing."
Gureha was speechless. She stopped breathing.
"...You really are a monster."
She spoke with a trembling voice.
"A normal human couldn't do something like that."
"...Yeah."
Kei nodded.
"I'm a monster."
Kei looked straight into Gureha's eyes.
"And I killed Reimu."
Gureha's body jerked. The cloth in her hands fell with a soft thud.
"...So it's true, then."
Her voice was hoarse.
"Yeah. I killed her with this hand."
Kei held his right hand out in front of Gureha.
"With this hand, I turned a tree branch into a blade and ran Reimu through."
Kei's voice was quiet. The wind moaned in the distance.
"I didn't mean to kill her. But I did. That's a fact."
Kei lowered his right hand.
"So you're right to call me a monster."
He took another bite of the rice ball.
Silence filled the shed. The scent of herbs was strangely thick.
Gureha looked down, seemingly thinking about something. Her fingertips moved slightly on her knees.
After a while, she raised her head.
"...Kur
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