That night, after Dekisugi left, Harry resumed his journey of magical cultivation.
After hours of repeated effort, he finally sensed a feeling of saturation in his mind—a sign that his mental sea had reached its current limit.
This was the best time to condense his first magic sigil. At this moment, the success rate would be highest, and the sigil itself would be the most stable, capable of storing the greatest amount of energy.
He focused his spiritual power, gathering all of his magical energy together. Slowly, it began to take shape—first a straight line, then gradually curving into form.
As the sigil twisted into shape, his spiritual energy seemed to twist with it. At the same time, his mental space began to expand.
Before long, a warped symbol was formed. This was the foundational sigil that every mage possessed—representing "Origin" in magical script. It was also known as the Divine Mark.
Unlike other runes that could be etched through concentrated effort, this first sigil was guided by the forces of nature and marked into the mind.
As it completed, a wave of spiritual energy fed back into his consciousness. Harry felt his spiritual capacity grow. If it had been a bowl of water before, now it was a basin.
The symbol began to passively draw in natural energy. His spiritual power reacted, merging with the incoming elements to form new magic.
And this process required no conscious effort—it had begun cultivating on its own. Although the speed was only about a fifth of active focus, it was still a steady gain.
"Nice. That means I don't have to stay on full alert to keep growing stronger. Sure, it's slower, but it doesn't wear me out. Heh."
Excited by the visible improvement, Harry decided to try out one of his known spells.
He began with Lesser Healing. Since he was still at a low stage, chanting was necessary. He recited the fifteen ancient syllables, each word flowing quickly from his lips.
The magic stirred in response. A soft green light enveloped his body, filling him with warmth.
The spell didn't last long—just a few seconds—before the glow faded.
Harry looked at his nine-year-old body. The frostbite scars had visibly lightened. He moved a bit and found the pain had subsided. His mental sea had also stabilized, a clear sign that his soul and body were syncing better.
When he examined his inner space, the sigil had turned translucent, faintly shimmering as it absorbed surrounding energy to recover.
He entered meditation again to aid the process.
About thirty minutes later, his magic reserves were nearly full again—already slightly greater than when he first reached level one.
"This is great. At this rate, I can get discharged tomorrow!"
But just as he was about to rush his recovery to full, a thought occurred: if he healed this quickly, would someone try to study him?
Even in a world where Doraemon existed and absurdities were the norm, caution was still smart.
So Harry decided to delay his discharge by a few days. That way, people might find it surprising but not completely outside the realm of possibility—especially since the doctor had said he wouldn't need much recovery time anyway.
The following days were uneventful, though Harry often recalled fragments of past memories—some from his life as Harry, others from Daichi Yayahara.
Though fragmented, they were enough for him to piece together key information about his current life—where he lived, who his parents were.
He also noticed a change in his mentality. Whether due to incomplete memory or his new body, he felt more energetic, more emotionally flexible.
He also managed to etch a second rune into his mind, this one meaning "Element." And with Dekisugi visiting every day, he didn't feel lonely at all.
On the third night, Harry told Dekisugi he was planning to be discharged the next day. Dekisugi was visibly happy to hear that but then seemed to remember something and hurried off.
Harry lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. His body had mostly recovered. The lingering frostbite no longer hindered movement—though the aftereffects had left his face partially stiff.
But now a new issue loomed: where would he go after leaving the hospital? His family home technically belonged to him, but he clearly couldn't live independently—not in the eyes of society. Chances were, he'd be sent to an orphanage.
He shook his head, banishing such thoughts. Time to sleep.
One way or another, I'll figure it out. Worst case, I'll swipe Doraemon's Anywhere Door. After all, that cat freaks out whenever he sees a mouse. His spare gadgets are always tucked in the drawer—easy pickings if Harry was desperate enough.
The next morning, as always, he got up early. Back in school, he always rose by 6:30 AM—habit.
He pulled back the curtains. Morning sunlight bathed the town in gold, and Harry couldn't help but sigh. My new life is officially beginning.
And silently added, As Daichi Yayahara.
He found his attending doctor and submitted his request for discharge.
The doctor initially opposed the idea, but after a check-up—frostbite nearly gone, mobility restored, memory recovered—he approved it, with the condition that the remaining fees be paid.
Money. Harry had no choice but to ask Dekisugi for help with that.
At 9 o'clock, the familiar sound of footsteps echoed outside the door. Right on time, Dekisugi had arrived—but this time, a middle-aged couple followed behind him.
Daichi stood at the window, gazing at the town. Dekisugi ran over, grabbed his hand, and led him toward the adults.
"Daichi, let me introduce you—these are my parents. There's something we'd like to discuss with you." Then he stepped aside.
Dekisugi's father was a slightly chubby man with a square-cut beard.
Comparing father and son, Daichi found it hard to believe they were even related.
The man stepped forward and gently patted his head. "Daichi Yayahara, have you thought about where you'll go after this?"
Daichi didn't appreciate being patted like a kid. But hearing the question, he knew what this was about and set his irritation aside.
He pretended to think for a moment. "I don't know. There's no one left at home. I really don't have anywhere to go."
The woman coughed softly and said, "Last night, Hidetoshi told us you might not have a place to go after discharge. He hoped we could take you in. But, you understand, adding another child isn't easy. It's a big responsibility…"
Her husband shot her a sharp look. "He's just a kid. What are you saying? Leave us. I'll talk to him alone."
She frowned but led Dekisugi out, leaving the two men in the room.
"We're willing to take you in," the man said, "but she's not wrong. Raising another child takes effort. And we're often too busy to keep an eye on both of you."
Daichi nodded. That aligned with what he remembered about their family—they were barely around.
Still, staying here had advantages. Fourth grade would start soon. Doraemon hadn't arrived yet, but he would soon. In other words, staying was essential.
Daichi thought for a moment and made his decision. "If you're really going to take me in, then there's no point in me keeping the house. You can sell it. But I have one condition—I'm not changing my name. That's all I have left from my parents."
The man kept smiling, though something shifted in his expression.
Maybe he misunderstood me… I just wanted him to study like Hidetoshi so we wouldn't have to worry. Oh well.
Still, he seems mature—probably won't need us to manage him much. That saves time. And we already have Hidetoshi—no need to change Daichi's name too. This works.
He nodded. "Alright, it's settled. As for the house, I'm a bit tight on funds at the moment, but I won't take advantage of you. I'll keep a record of everything and use it for your living expenses."
Daichi nodded, already revising his opinion of the man.
The father turned to inform the others of the good news.
Dekisugi returned, smiling brightly. "Great! I'm glad. Let's take care of each other from now on!"
Daichi smiled back. "Yeah. Let's."
Together, they went to handle the discharge paperwork. After settling the remaining tens of thousands of yen in hospital fees, they walked out of the hospital as a family.
(End of Chapter)