CHAPTER 8: Beneath the Shadow of the Tree
For the past few days, Hideo Takumi had refused to leave the house.
Each morning, just as the sun stretched its limbs beyond the eastern sky, his steps would lead him to the Takumi family's private library. There, he would stay—unmoving—until night devoured the day.
He clung to that routine without pause, as if only by doing so could he reweave the strands of himself that had unraveled since being reborn in this strange world.
Every book he finished would be sent to his grandfather, Jun Takumi. The old man would read them over, and then either shake his head in disappointment, nod slowly in approval, or sigh deeply. His face was like the four seasons in constant shift—mirroring uncertainty, surprise, and a floating sense of hope.
Meanwhile, the house servants had begun to grow used to Hideo's change. If they had once worried about his odd, solitary habits, now they felt a strange relief. After all, his new hobby—secluding himself in the dark during the night—was far better than his previous hobby… one they dared not name.
And tonight, like the many nights before, Hideo sat silently beneath the purple-blossomed tree in the backyard. It was the darkest corner of the estate—even the moonlight seemed reluctant to shine there.
He stared up at the star-scattered sky, as if searching for the thread of fate that had bound him to this world.
Why did I have to be reborn here?
He had asked himself that question thousands of times. And no answer ever came—only silence, like the wind passing without a trace.
"This world... it's too much like the past," he muttered under his breath.
The language, the culture, even the architecture—all of it reminded him of Earth. And yet he knew, this was not Earth. This was a place far crueler, wilder, and more honest in declaring that power was everything.
Had he truly been sent back to the past, he might have used his knowledge of history to conquer the world. But here, all that he knew amounted to nothing more than dust in the desert.
In his despair, he lowered his head, hugging his knees tightly. His trembling hands dug into his hair. The veins on his face tensed.
"Why... why couldn't it have been the past instead...?"
No tears came. He was too proud to cry. But the tightness in his chest remained, like a stone lodged deep inside, refusing to move.
And then—CLANG!—a sharp pain struck his head like a hammer of iron.
"Ah!"
His body shook. His vision blurred. The night sky twisted into a whirl of shadow, pulling his consciousness into darkness.
But even amid the agony, Hideo grit his teeth, biting down hard enough to draw blood. He refused to black out. He refused to fall.
"I came into this world alone—and I will carry it alone!"
"If I want to protect what matters to me... then I have to become strong!"
Time froze. Two hours passed like two lifetimes lived in pain. When the torment finally ebbed, he could no longer move his body.
But his eyes remained open. Red. Glowing. Unyielding.
The cold of night bit into his skin. But for the first time, he felt the cold.
"If I can feel it... then that means my body... has finally healed?"
His awareness returned, like water filling an empty vessel. Slowly, he rose to his feet, staring at his hands. They felt unfamiliar, yet oddly right. Like a newborn learning to move for the first time.
"LEVEL UP!"
Mana F›E
Strength F›E
Intelligence S›S+
Speed F›E
Endurance F›E
Instantly, he opened his status window:
"Status Screen"
Name: Hideo Takumi
Age: 17
Jobs: Warrior (F) | Mage (F) | Assassin (F) | Acolyte (F) | Archer (F) | Alchemist (F) | Summoner (F)
Current Stats:
Mana: F›E
Strength: F›E
Intelligence: S›S+
Speed: F›E
Endurance: F›E
Skills: Learn (~) | Memory (~) | Giving (~) | Hide (~)
"So... that pain forced me to break through a limit?"
He let out a faint laugh. But it wasn't one of joy—it was the bitter laugh of a man who had just walked through the gate of death.
From this night forward, he was no longer just borrowing this body.
He was Hideo Takumi.
Completely.