Chapter 2 : The Birth Of The Ninth-Level Guardian Of Hell

Footsteps came and went. The sound of children's laughter mingled with the voices of adults.

I took my small steps between two large figures.

I stop and look up. An animal with a long neck stands in front of me.

“That. Why does it have a long neck?”

“So it can eat the leaves on the trees up there, Koharu,” replies the man with the blurred face, smiling and pointing upwards.

“Why don't they eat grass?”

“Maybe the leaves on the trees taste sweeter?”

This time, the woman beside me answered softly.

“But how do they drink? The water is below.”

“They need to bend their necks.”

We continued walking until we arrived at an ice cream stand. I watched how the ice cream was made by the seller.

“Koharu, do you want some ice cream?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, what flavor do you want?”

“Chocolate.”

The woman immediately picked me up and carried me to the stand.

“Come on, hurry up, Mom—”

*

We got a new classmate. I noticed the boy playing alone near the sandbox. I talked to my friends about inviting him to play with us.

“Hey, do you want to come play with us?”

I smiled warmly and pointed to my friends standing behind me.

He looked at my friends behind me and nodded his head.

"Come here. Don't play alone, play with us."

I took the boy's hand and led him closer to my friends.

“What's your name? My name is Koharu.” As we walked, I asked him his name.

“My name is Kaito.”

*

I hid in the closet, waiting for my mom and dad so I could surprise them when they went to the kitchen.

But suddenly I heard the sound of glass breaking outside the closet.

“Don't you love us, MASATO?!”

“What do you mean I don't love you? Of course I love you!”

“THEN WHAT WERE YOU DOING WITH THAT WOMAN EARLIER?!”

My body trembled. My head bowed toward my knees, and my arms hugged them tightly, just hoping it would all pass quickly.

*

“Can I go to your house after school?”

“Huh? Of course. You know, Koharu-chan, I just got a new movie from my dad. It's about a hero who has the power of the Black Dragon Fire in her right hand.”

“Really? Is it exciting?”

“Of course it's exciting. You'll definitely like it.”

“Then wait for me at your house, okay?”

“Of course.”

We both smiled together.

*

“How about we make a promise together?”

“Sure.”

I took out two red strings I found at home.

I tied them to our little fingers.

“Follow my words, Kaito-kun.” I smiled as I sat down next to him.

"Yubikiri genman~ (Little finger promise)

Uso tsuitara hari senbon nomasuu~ (If you lie, you'll drink a thousand needles)

Yubikitta! (The promise is made)"

“Promise me that we will help each other, Kaito-kun.”

“I promise,” he replied with a smile.

I stared at Kaito without blinking. My finger was still tied to his pinky finger. My chest felt warm, as if the promise would truly keep us in the same place.

*

The heat in my chest jolted me out of the memory. I opened my eyes instantly. Tears had wet the place where I lay. I had dreamed for so long, as if I had really been there.

“What did I just dream about?”

Compared to a dream, it felt more like a memory from a long time ago.

I didn't know how long I had been lying there. My memories were only blurry fragments—a bitter taste on my tongue, my mother's voice in the distance, then darkness again.

I remembered what happened before I fell asleep.

Heat.

Burning.

Charred.

Suddenly my stomach churned, making me want to vomit everything inside. I tried to swallow it back down.

Every breath made my chest throb, as if something was gripping it from within. I could only take short breaths so as not to increase the pain.

I tried to get up, but the pain knocked me back down. My body gave up, and my gaze wandered aimlessly. The room was the same as before, only now it looked clearer.

My gaze fell on the source of light: the ventilation window directly above the mattress. I hadn't noticed it before because the room was too dark, and the broken light from the lamp didn't help much.

The light from the ventilation fell directly into my eyes. It was too bright. I turned my face away, but the shadows of the bars remained in my vision.

The silence pressed on my ears until I could hear my heartbeat too clearly.

I weakly raised my hand and stared at my pale palm, confirming that her body was indeed not mine.

The remaining memories came in small fragments—the sound of laughter, footsteps, and someone calling a name.

That name stood out the most clearly among them all.

Koharu.

I don't remember much of my dreams except for a few fragments. A cheerful girl when she was little who somehow ended up like this.

The light from the ventilation turned into white spots. The faces in my memory mixed with the shadows of the bars in my eyes, making it difficult to distinguish which was real.

What sin did I commit to deserve all this? I want to go back. I miss my father, my mother, Souta, and everything I left behind.

I lay staring at the ceiling, letting the pain throb without being able to fight it until the light illuminating the room became brighter.

There was no sound.

Then, footsteps were heard outside the door. One step. Then another.

“Hey, stupid girl, are you awake yet?”

The woman's voice returned, and my body tensed for a moment.

The door to the room opened, revealing a woman with the same face, the same smell, only wearing different clothes.

My mind went blank. My heartbeat slowed, and my breath caught in my throat. A chill ran from the back of my neck to my fingertips.

“You've been asleep for so long. I've wasted three days taking care of you. Do you know how busy I am?”

She stood in the doorway with no intention of stepping inside.

“Are you in pain?” she said with a smile. “Does the burn still hurt? Does it feel hot? Does it feel like you're being stabbed from the inside?”

Her smile froze on her lips. Her eyes remained empty. She stood motionless, as if waiting for something from me.

I couldn't say anything. I just stared at her, while tears flowed again, uncontrollably.

After a few seconds of silence, she reached into her pocket.

“Do you know what this is?”

Mom took out a small, transparent medicine bottle. Inside were small white pills.

The air felt heavy in my chest. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. She looked at me, waiting.

Finally, I said, “It's... medicine.”

She played with the medicine bottle in her hand, not giving it to me.

“You know this medicine can relieve the burning and stabbing pain in your chest if you take it.”

Hearing that, I tried to lift my body.

The stinging in my right chest exploded suddenly, as if the wound had come back to life. My breath caught in my throat.

My hands unconsciously gripped the mattress, holding back the waves of pain that made my vision shake. I forced myself to sit up, my back stiff and my shoulders trembling.

“Please... I can't take it anymore...”

There was only one thing on my mind: getting that medicine. Medicine that could at least reduce the burning sensation in my chest.

“Hmm, the medicine isn't cheap. You have to pay for it.”

“I'll pay for it,” I said without thinking.

“How are you going to pay for it? You have nothing, everything you have belongs to me. So how are you going to pay for it, hmm?”

The bottle in her hand shook gently.

The pills inside clinked against each other.

The small sound was too clear.

My eyes followed every movement of the bottle. My grip on the mattress tightened.

“I... I'll do anything for you, Mother.”

“Hmm. You also must not disobey me at all and you must always do as I say.”

I nodded, my eyes never leaving the medicine bottle in her hand.

“I... promise.”

“Remember that.”

She placed the medicine under her feet.

“Crawl and take the medicine. Let's see how strong your promise is.”

I knew I had no choice but to obey.

I forced my body to move.

My knees and hands moved forward little by little.

When my knees touched the floor, the pain in my right chest immediately shot through me. The burned skin felt like it was being pulled every time I moved my hands. My breath stopped mid-inhalation, as if my chest was being squeezed from the inside.

I kept crawling.

Every small push made the heat spread wider, piercing up to my shoulders. My hands trembled, and my gaze was fixed on the bottle in front of my feet.

The floor felt cold on my knees, contrasting with the burning sensation in my body.

The bottle was finally right in front of me.

I reached for it and opened it with unsteady hands, almost dropping it. The pill went into my mouth. I swallowed it immediately without water.

“See, you can finally obey.”

She patted my head.

I just looked down at her feet. Fear overwhelmed me so much that I didn't dare to look up.

“I can't let you die. Because you still have a lot of debts to pay me. So, I prepared these things.”

I just realized that she had been holding a medicine box. My gaze was too fixated on the small bottle in her hand.

My mother walked right past me, who was standing in front of the door. She carried the medicine box to the mattress where I had been sleeping earlier.

“Crawl back here and I might change the bandages on your dirty body.”

I turned around without lifting my head.

My breath was no longer burning like before, but my arms felt weak and my head felt light. The medicine made the heat in my chest subside, replaced by a dull throbbing that made every movement feel uncertain.

My hands slipped several times as I supported my own weight.

I crawled slowly toward the mattress, my face still bowed.

“I've already told your school to mark you absent because of the accident,” she said.

“See, I'm a good mother. So, be grateful to this good mother.”

I looked up. Her face looked satisfied as she said it.

“Th... thank you,” I said softly.

I forced a smile as I looked at her face.

Her gaze hardened.

“Your face is disgusting. Don't point your dirty face at me.”

I immediately lowered my head and continued crawling until I was in front of her.

I sat in front of her with my back stiff. My gaze was fixed on the floor. I didn't dare to lift my head again.

She sat in front of me and placed a medicine box on the floor. I didn't know what was inside. The sound of small bottles and metal objects clattering in the silent room.

She reached out her hand.

Her palm touched my cheek, rubbing it gently, then turned into a grip on my mouth.

“And don't you ever think about trying to die. I won't let you. If you do the same thing again, I won't just stick it in your wound, but on your face.”

My pupils trembled. I accidentally took a deep breath, and the pain in my chest stabbed me again.

I nodded repeatedly. My head felt light.

“I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Mom. I won't do it again.”

She released my face roughly.

Without saying anything, she began to unwrap the bandage on my chest.

The cloth was pulled slowly, revealing red and uneven skin.

“Look at the wound. Disgusting, isn't it?”

She smiled slightly.

“This is the punishment for what you did, and you must not tell anyone about this.”

She pointed to the small bottle of medicine beside me.

“If you do, I won't give you any more medicine.”

My chest tightened. I had just felt the pain subside. I couldn't lose that.

“I don't care how you cover it up, as long as no one finds out. Starting tomorrow, you clean your own wound. I'm busy.”

I nodded silently.

She began to clean my wound.

Her touch was uncertain. Sometimes too fast, sometimes stopping mid-motion, as if she herself was unsure what to do next. Every time something touched my chest, the pain spread like being doused with hot water.

“Ah—”

“Be quiet,” she said expressionlessly.

I held my breath and gritted my teeth so I wouldn't make a sound.

Her hand moved again, then stopped again. For her it was probably brief, but for me it felt like an eternity.

I closed my eyes for a moment, then forced them open again.

I watched what she was doing—which part she touched first, when she stopped, when she pulled the cloth away.

Tomorrow, I would have to do it myself.

That thought made my body even stiffer. The pain came in waves, and occasionally my body jerked uncontrollably.

I didn't know what she was actually doing. All I knew was one thing:

I had to remember her movements and remain silent until it was all over.

After that, she wrapped a bandage around my chest.

Without saying a word, she left, leaving me with the medicine box on the floor.

I stared at the closed door, then lowered my gaze to the bandage wrapped around my chest.

A few moments later, her footsteps were heard again. A plate was placed on the floor without her looking at me, then the door closed again.

I watched the plate from a distance. I remained seated where I was.

There was no sound other than my own breathing.

The smell of medicine, bandages, and the lingering aroma of food mixed in the air, making my head feel light.

My gaze was fixed on the plate on the floor.

I couldn't see its contents clearly from where I was. I didn't know if it was really prepared for me, or just something that happened to be left over.

My stomach felt empty again.

But my body didn't move immediately.

I didn't know what it would do this time.

In the end, hunger got the better of me.

This time I didn't try to crawl for fear of reopening my wound. I just slowly shifted my body closer to the plate.

Every small movement pulled at the bandage on my chest, reminding me of the pain that hadn't completely gone away.

My hand hesitated before finally pulling the plate closer.

It contained porridge that had started to cool down. On top of it were small pieces of fish. I thought this was an improvement, because previously I had only received fish bones.

I picked up the spoon with my still unsteady hand.

The small sound of metal touching the plate was too clear in the quiet room.

I took a small bite.

It tasted bland, leaving only a faint warmth on my tongue. After a few bites, my chest felt heavy. My throat tightened, as if refusing to swallow any more.

I stopped.

The spoon slipped from my fingers and fell back onto the plate with a soft clatter. I stared at it, then shifted my gaze toward the door.

There was no one there.

I picked up the spoon again.

One spoonful. Then another.

Each time I swallowed, my stomach felt more uncomfortable, as if something was stuck inside.

My hands began to tremble.

I sat with my back against the wall. Half of the porridge remained.

I couldn't continue.

My mind returned to the fragments of memories from earlier.

It all felt like it belonged to someone else, but it still left something warm and painful in my chest.

I closed my eyes.

Starting tomorrow, I would have to do it myself.

*

A few days after the incident, I was able to stand. However, every time I moved my right hand, the pain in my chest still spread to my shoulder.

Without the medicine my mother gave me, I knew my body would not be able to move this far.

My gaze stopped at the mirror in front of me. A thin girl with pale skin stared back at me.

The girl's face in the mirror looked empty.

Bandages wrapped around her body from her chest to her neck. Both her arms were also tightly wrapped, only her palms were left exposed. Behind the bandages, bruises were still faintly visible—remnants of the incident a few days ago that had not completely disappeared.

This was the body I now inhabited.

I didn't know what had happened to my original body. I just hoped my family wouldn't be shocked when they found me later.

I took a bottle of medicine out of my pocket and swallowed the pills without water. My throat felt dry, but I was used to doing it this way.

I stared at the bottle of medicine I had colored black in my hand.

I remember my mother's orders:

“This is punishment for what you did.”

“Don't ever tell anyone about this.”

“If you do, I won't give you any more medicine.”

“I don't care how you cover it up, as long as no one finds out.”

I looked back at my reflection in the mirror and tried to smile. And finally I said—

“I am Natsume Koharu now, not Tsunamaru Akio.”

“I am the guardian of the ninth level of hell who guards the devil king's castle.”

“The devil king has given me a capsule to hold the power of the Black Dragon Fire in my right hand.”

My voice sounded strange in the silent room.

The lie was ridiculous, but it was easier to be a gatekeeper of hell than to be a girl who had to explain why her body was constantly covered in bandages.

With that story, I didn't have to answer anyone's questions.

I looked at the smiling face reflected in the glass.