“Yea, you guys want the boy right? I’ll give him to you for 5 million”.

The 7 year old boy just stared at his mother with a blank expression on his face, his eyes pulsed with a glowing violet energy, his eyes stared straight into the agent as if he was dissecting his very soul.

The woman in front of him was in a business suit, signing the transfer papers in front of an agent, her eyebags from the restless nights that she spent without her husband.

“He’s a cursed child, I don’t want him here”.

She was barely conscious, slurring over her words as it was not in her native tongue, as the light flickered above them, the tiles on the floor cracked from the pressure of her heel.

Sitting in front of her was a well built man in a suit, his fingers crossed and his face was empty staring calmly at the woman before him.

“He’ll be very useful to us, we’ll take him off your hands”.

His voice was borderline scary, deep and raspy like speaking to a monster.

She dismissively waved her hand.

“Do whatever you want with him, he’s not mine anymore”.

The man bent over, staring into the woman’s eyes over his glasses.

“Can you really say that as his mother? Think about what his life will be like without a maternal figure".

“This little fucker has been a witch since he was born, I don’t want him in my house, he’s been nothing but trouble”!

She scratched her head, tearing off the skin from her scalp as she looked down at the child from the side of her eye.

“I don’t care if you use him as a soldier, a slave or whatever, just give me the goddamn money and get him off my hands”.

“Well, miss Shirogane, what would your fans think about their favorite idol selling off her child”?

She slammed down, onto the desk as she quickly stood up from her seat, knocking the chair away.

“They’ll forgive me, that thing is a witch after all”.

The boy stared blankly, like he was peering through the abyss, his purple pupils dilated.

A woman stared at the boy from outside the window, her expression unreadable

The next second, the door exploded inward, splinters flying. A glass window shattered, heels thudding on the linoleum as the smoke cleared.

“I’ll be your new caretaker”.

The woman gave her hand to him, her white palm contrasted the orange hue of her skin tone, her long ginger ponytail nearly reached the ground, she chewed on a cigarette like it was a piece of candy, her gold eyes staring straight into his.

"Come on boy, follow me and I'll show you what it really means to be a witch".

The boy slowly lifted his right arm and reluctantly grabbed her arm, his small hand gripping tightly onto her palm.

The man stood up from his seat as his voice thundered throughout the room.

“Reina! Stop breaking through the doors! You know how much it costs to repair it"!?

She stuck her tongue out as she winked at the man, she pouted trying to make herself look cute to avoid any danger.

“My bad! I forgot that I wasn’t supposed to do that”.

“How many times do I have to remind you”!?

“Come on manager, look at how much aura I gained from that”!

She stood up on the chair as she started to strike a triumphant pose, her arm lifted into the air to display dominance.

“Get out”.

She clicked her tongue and pulled the boy away.

“Boy”.

Her voice spoke like a broken radio, low and steady, her tone became serious and her eyes stared into him.

“Do you know what you are”?

Reina crouched down beside Hoshimi, gently brushing the splinters off his shoulder like he was some fragile sculpture that had nearly been chipped.

The boy shook his head, his fingers twiddling as his big round eyes stared up at her with a slight glint in his violet eyes.

“Seems like your momma didn’t tell you anything did she”?

Her finger pressed against his chest slightly pushing him back.

“Has anything out of the ordinary happened in your life? Like objects appearing from nowhere or things being lifted without you touching the thing”?

The boy nodded his head.

“Yea”…

“Every single living thing has an energy called mana, it makes your little brain function and gives you”.

Reina softly pat his head as he blinked once, his eyes lifeless, slow and dull.

Then he blinked twice, his pupils looked like the vast and endless sky yet they showed a hint that he knew more than others his age.

“You’re a witch, you know what that means? It means that you have more mana than the average person and that allows you to control it in different ways”.

Reina grabbed a pebble from the ground as she flicked it straight towards a glass cup, shattering it without any effort.

“My mana manifests as a mutation that allows me to enhance parts of my body, cool right”?

The boy stared down at his palms, small smooth and trembling a little.

“Yea, I guess”?

His voice was nervous, he was getting adopted by a woman that he had never seen, a future that was unsure right in front of him.

“There are four ways that your mana can manifest, you’ll learn more when you get older. But the most important thing you need to remember is that you aren’t a human, you’re a witch”.

Hoshimi looked down at his hands, reflecting on himself.

“Why does everyone hate me? What have I done”?

Her fingers curled up as she flicked his head, not strong enough to hurt him but to jolt him awake.

“You’re a witch, you have powers that they don’t, you’re special and that’s why you seem like a monster to them, you’re different, you’re like Superman”.

“Yea I’d rather not have these abilities, I don’t want to fight others, I'd rather live normally”.

“Smart child”.

She muttered under her breath as she smiled softly.

“But you’re stuck with it anyways so it’s time to stop wishing for the impossible”.

She stood up, cracking her neck and stretching with a groan. “Listen to me, you don’t owe that woman, well your mom a thing. From now on, you’re mine. I’ll raise you, if you have these abilities then you’ll have to make full use of them or you’ll get killed in the academy”.

The boy didn’t say goodbye.

He didn’t look back.

As Reina took his hand and led him away from the office, past the blinking exit light, past the double doors that no longer had a frame, his hum was like a static television.

10 years passed since then.

The scent of fried onions filled the entire house as a girl immediately jolted awake, her hair was blonde, a dirty brown that looked like she’d been rolling through the dirt, her blue eyes were like a clouded lapis. A smile rested neatly on her face, she had school in a couple hours so she always woke up early just in case.

Books rested on her nightstand from the hours of studying that she did last night. Her glasses slightly tilted as they rested on her face.

“Come on Kira! It’s time for breakfast”.

Her mother’s voice rang with warmth, as the birds outside chirped, calling for its mate.

“I know mom”!

She yelled out from upstairs, her voice ringing so loud that even the neighbors could hear her.

“Your father is back from his job! He’s working this hard for you, you’d better appreciate it”.

He worked as a nightguard in a restaurant, making sure that no thieves get into the building and he was paid quite handsomely for it, usually he was the type of person to dislike the night but he had to compromise.

Kira stood up as she waddled down the stairs, her shoes almost slipping off.

She lived in a house that never felt cold.

There were unread books stacked on every shelf, a dumb old stuffed bear by the couch, and notes on the fridge that always ended with a heart.

Her father walked up to her, patting her on the head.

The warmth of his hand spread into her hair.

“How are your studies going so far”?

“Dad I’m not a kid”.

She grabbed her dad’s arm and pushed him aside.

“I’m already 17, I’m practically an adult”.

She pouted as she put her hands on her hips.

He always saw her as a kid, no matter how old she got, of course he would, just a few moments ago, she was in his hands as he caressed her.

“Sure you are”.

He grabbed his daughter by the arm as he dragged her beside him on the couch.

Her mother yelled out, her voice ringing in her ears.

“Daniel Aamon”!

Her father dashed towards her, running as fast as he possibly could, she always had a history of being angry, his eyes almost drooped over his face, he was barely awake and his tone showed.

“What is it dear”?

She caressed his cheek, moving a strand of hair off his face as she looked at him with a warm smile.

“Stop forcing yourself too much, you’re going to collapse”.

“Augh, mom, dad, stop flirting in front of me, you’re going to make me barf”.

She leaned against the soft cushion of the couch as her eyes began to slowly close, the darkness started to cloud her vision as she began to slip away into a sleep.

A noise jolted her awake.

A knock at the door.

Kira stretched her arms, as she yawned loudly.

“Mom, I’m going to go brush my teeth”.

Her mom walked towards the door, her hand twisted the door handle.

Kira stared into the bathroom mirror, foam slipping from the corners of her mouth, dribbling down her chin in milky strands. Her eyes lingered on her teeth, strangely calm, as though hypnotized by the mundane act of brushing.

Then—the ceiling groaned. The sound was deep, guttural, like the breath of a whale pressing down on the house. Dust sifted from above. Her gaze trembled slightly, her pupils shrinking as a cold draft slipped across her bare arms, raising gooseflesh.

The walls cracked first. A deafening rumble surged through the room before the plaster exploded outward. The sink jolted forward, slamming into her stomach with brutal force; she gasped, wind knocked from her lungs, before her skull smashed against the glass.

“The fuck—?” she whispered, dazed.

The mirror spiderwebbed, then shattered. Jagged shards bit into her skin. A dozen icy knives embedded into her forehead, her cheeks, her hands.

Red

A deep red

Then a warm sensation overwhelmed her

As if pure magma was being poured right on top of her

White beams—searing, blinding—split the darkness into jagged fragments. They weren’t natural; they hissed, cutting across the room like weapons of their own. From the corner of her blurring vision, she saw her father. His ankle bent unnaturally, blood streaming freely down his leg. The crimson seeped into the cracks in the floor, crawling like veins, filling them.

“Dad…?”

He staggered once. Then fell. His body hit the tiles with a hollow, final thud.

The blood didn’t just pool—it convulsed. Sparks snapped through it, crackling arcs of blue electricity dancing along the liquid, lighting his body in violent flashes. His eyes were open, but glassy, frozen mid-expression.

Kira’s scream stuck in her throat.

The door blew apart. Boots thundered in, shaking the walls worse than the quake. Men in heavy black gear flooded the room—visors glinting, rifles raised, their armored vests swallowing their humanity. The air smelled of metal and smoke.

“Her mana is fluctuating, and its way higher than average, must be a reincarnated,” one barked, voice muffled by his helmet. “ Detain her.”

Gloved hands seized her. Her wrists bent backward. Metal bit her skin. But Kira didn’t fight. She barely breathed. She only stared at the corpse sprawled across the floor, his lifeblood fizzing with impossible energy.

Her mind emptied.

Blank.

“She’s a child! You can’t—!” her mother’s voice shrieked from somewhere beyond the haze.

Kira’s lips trembled. Her throat closed around the words as she was dragged away.

“…Mom,” she whispered, her voice breaking into pieces, “I’m so scared.”