From a distance, Enju watched Nanashi cradle Red. The girl's bright, joyful smile stirred something in her chest. Without thinking, she chased after them.
"Enju…"
Rentaro finally snapped out of his stupor and called after her.
"Can you give me... another chance?"
But Enju didn't turn back. Her voice was quiet, almost drowned in the wind.
"Thank you for taking care of me... until now."
And then she left.
Rentaro Satomi slumped to the ground, bitterness and sorrow twisting across his face as he stared blankly at her fading silhouette.
"That girl's still following us," Lemuel said, glancing over his shoulder.
"She's Enju Aihara," Kisara explained. "Rentaro Satomi's initiator—a Cursed Child."
"So she's broken up with him, huh?" Shinobu said.
"I never thought much of that guy anyway," Lemuel added. "He talks about protecting Cursed Children, but just stood there while Red was being abused. What a coward."
"Mmm…"
Red trembled at the memory, shrinking closer into Nanashi's chest.
Only his warmth made her feel safe.
"He's got a gentle nature," Reinhard commented, "but there's too much uncertainty in his eyes. His heart is scattered."
That kind of person wasn't fit to be shouting about justice and salvation.
Perhaps he would've been better off just protecting the people close to him.
"Umm…"
Enju, still trailing behind, suddenly spoke.
The group stopped and turned toward her.
She gathered her courage and looked directly at Nanashi.
"Do you really believe... that Cursed Children are just ordinary kids?"
Nanashi's response was immediate, his voice firm and without doubt.
"Of course. To me, Cursed Children are purer than 90% of the humans in this world."
"Brother…"
Red's heart swelled. In her eyes, Nanashi glowed like a figure bathed in holy light.
She wanted so badly to believe this wasn't a dream.
That this man—her brother—was real. That his kindness was real.
"Thank you."
Enju smiled faintly, a sense of relief washing over her.
She had heard what she needed to hear.
Now she could move on, even if she didn't yet know where she was going.
Without a promoter... she might become a target too.
"If you'd like," Nanashi said suddenly, "you could be my sister too."
Enju froze. Had she heard him right?
She blinked, confused.
"Would you like to be my sister?" Nanashi asked again, this time clearly.
"I... Can I really?" she whispered. "I abandoned my promoter. I'm just... a traitor."
She clutched at her skirt, struggling to steady herself.
She wanted a brother—not someone like Rentaro, who always felt so distant, like an invisible wall stood between them.
When that wall cracked, everything fell apart.
She didn't want a fragile connection made of dreams and promises.
She wanted something real. Something solid.
From Nanashi, she could feel it—honest, unpretentious warmth and equality.
She hesitated, unsure.
Then Nanashi chuckled and waved his hand.
"Wha—!"
With a surprised squeal, Enju flew into his arms, now held gently in his right hand.
Red blinked, watching the scene unfold curiously.
"W-Woah!" Enju gasped, face flushed.
Buried against Nanashi's chest, she stammered, "I... I'm Enju Aihara."
Nanashi smiled. "Nice to meet you, Enju. I'm Nanashi."
"Brother Nanashi...!"
She clung to him, blushing furiously, and pressed her face into his chest, shy and overwhelmed—but happy.
"I want one too!"
Red pushed her way forward, unwilling to be left out.
"Nanashi is really popular with children," Shinobu commented with a chuckle.
"It's because Mr. Nanashi genuinely loves them," Reinhard added sincerely.
"Well..." Kisara sighed.
"There are countless Cursed Children in this world. They're everywhere."
"Huh? There are really that many like them?" Lemuel asked, surprised.
Kisara nodded. "Yes, a lot. Most are homeless children like Red. Only those with stronger genes can become Initiators, like Enju."
"They're all like rainbows…" Shinobu said softly. "So bright, yet... so tragic."
"If that's the case," Reinhard said solemnly, "then this world is truly twisted."
"It's all right," Nanashi said calmly. "It won't be long before these girls can live freely."
Nanashi bought Red a red dress and a pair of new shoes.
She'd clearly been starving—she devoured her meal like someone who hadn't eaten in days.
The bill, however, was footed by the ever-broke Kisara.
As they crossed a footbridge, the group heard a soft, melodious voice.
"Someone's singing," Lemuel noted, ears perking up. "And it sounds... really good."
"Over there," Nanashi said, leading them toward a street corner.
Red and Enju, both holding his hands, suddenly stiffened. Their expressions darkened.
"What's wrong?" the others asked, confused.
Then they saw it—and their hearts sank.
A white-haired girl, frail and fragile-looking, was singing with all her might. She was so thin, it seemed a strong breeze might knock her over.
In front of her lay a small, dusty bowl.
She held a worn wooden sign that read, in crooked letters:
"I am a Cursed Child from the Outer District. I need money to feed my little sister. Please give alms."
It was clear—this was a Cursed Child surviving through song and begging.
Her clothes were in tatters, a dirty shawl barely covering the holes. Her face was smudged with grime, and a white cloth covered her eyes.
Her voice was pure, and her singing, beautiful.
But not even beauty could buy her bread.
The bowl remained empty.
Not a single passerby stopped.
Instead, they glanced at the sign, saw the words Cursed Child, and recoiled. They walked faster, eyes averted, frowns etched into their faces.
Red clutched Nanashi's sleeve tightly.
Food...
She remembered when hunger once drove her to pick up a piece of bread from the ground.
That single bite had nearly killed her.
She'd fallen into a trap set by law enforcers. If her brother hadn't found her in time, she would've been beaten to death and left to rot in a filthy ditch.
Because she'd lived it... she understood it.
Enju stepped forward, brows furrowed. "You... can't see, can you?"
The girl paused her song, then smiled and nodded. "That's right."
Kisara, studying her closely, frowned. "That's strange. Cursed Children possess Gastrea-derived powers. Their recovery abilities are exceptional. They don't get sick—so why is she blind?"
"Ah…"
The girl gently reached up and untied the ribbon covering her eyes.
A collective gasp echoed through the group.
"W-What is this?!" Shinobu exclaimed, covering her mouth in horror.
Her eye sockets held no eyeballs. Instead, they were filled with uneven, silvery-white material.
"It's... lead," Lemuel said gravely.
"Yes," the girl replied with a small, calm smile. "I filled them with lead."
Everyone fell silent.
They understood instantly—by pouring lead into her own eyes, she had stopped their natural regeneration. The lead had caused complete necrosis, ensuring her blindness would be permanent.
"Who... who did this to you?!" Enju demanded, trembling with fury. "Who would be so cruel?"
The girl shook her head, still smiling gently.
"I did it myself."
"Why?! Why would you do such a thing?!"
Enju's voice cracked in disbelief.
"Because..." the girl said quietly, "my mother—who abandoned me and my sister—hated my red eyes."
And just like that, silence fell again.
No one could speak.
They understood.
Her mother must have been part of the Plundered Generation.
In this world, there were two kinds of people: the Plundered Generation and the Pure Generation.
The Plundered Generation had lived through the Gastrea Wars. They'd seen the monsters firsthand—lost families, homes, and hope.
Most of them harbored deep hatred for anything Gastrea-related, including Cursed Children, who had inherited Gastrea's power through the virus.
The Pure Generation, born after the war, had only known a world where Cursed Children existed.
And if a Cursed Child was born into a family from the Plundered Generation... they were often abandoned.
Or worse—abused. Tortured. Killed.
The girl slowly retied the ribbon over her eyes.
She reached out and touched Enju's cheek, as if sensing her presence.
"You're a Cursed Child too, aren't you?"
Enju stared at her, stunned. "How did you know? Why are you still smiling? Don't you... feel pain?"
The girl gently lowered her hand.
"For someone like me, survival depends entirely on others."
"So I don't know what kind of face to wear... except a smile."
Being a Cursed Child...
She couldn't get a job.
She couldn't earn money.
She refused to steal.
And she had a little sister depending on her.
So begging—singing on the street—was her only option.
"Ding-dong!"
A crisp sound echoed as something small struck the bottom of the bowl.
The girl lifted her head with a radiant smile and said cheerfully, "Thank you!"
Someone had given her money—enough, perhaps, to buy food for her sister.
But the two men who had tossed the "alms" were standing nearby, arms around each other, grinning cruelly.
"Haha, look at her—so grateful for trash. This is hilarious."
"A monster like you, begging? You should just drop dead."
The atmosphere instantly chilled.
Everyone turned toward the small bowl, where only a couple of aluminum can pull-tabs lay.
A surge of silent fury rose in their chests.
"…Those two..." Reinhard murmured, his fingers twitching near the hilt of his sword.
Even he was tempted to draw it.
The girl, however, seemed to grasp the truth. Her smile faded momentarily—but she said nothing. Instead, she took a breath and prepared to resume singing.
And then—
"Someone's dead!"
A panicked shout rang out from not far away.
Everyone turned toward the commotion.
The two men from earlier lay motionless—no, not motionless. Unrecognizable. Their bodies had exploded, reduced to bloody pulp, like meat flattened by an unseen force.
"!!!"
Kisara's pupils shrank in disbelief.
He couldn't understand it. How could such "decent" people suddenly be... obliterated?
But the others—Shinobu, Reinhard, and the rest—remained calm. They understood.
Scum like that…
If they're dead, so be it.
"May I ask your name?" Nanashi, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke.
The girl blinked in confusion. It was the first time someone had asked her that.
"…My name is Cai."
Nanashi glanced at Red, then softly murmured, "Rainbow…"
Perhaps, this too was fate.
He reached out gently, placing his hand over her eyes.
The lead packed into her sockets crumbled into fine dust, drifting away. Then, a gentle stream of golden primordial energy flowed into the void left behind.
Cai felt a strange itch deep within her eyes.
Moments later, color bloomed into her world.
When her sight returned, the first thing she saw was a gentle, kind face—one she would remember for the rest of her life.
She reached up in disbelief, touching her eyes.
"My eyes… I-I can see again?"
"!!"
"What kind of power is that?" Kisara asked, stunned.
She had seen it clearly—golden light pouring from Nanashi's fingertips, and then, miraculously, Cai's vision was restored.
Cai turned her gaze to the people surrounding her—each of them strikingly beautiful, kind, and warm.
But most importantly, none of them looked at her with disdain or disgust.
And then she looked at the older boy standing in front of her.
Beside him stood two other girls with the same crimson eyes—Cursed Children, like her.
"…Big brother… Why are you helping me?"
Nanashi lifted a hand, trying to pat her head, but Cai instinctively ducked away.
"My hair's dirty," she said hurriedly. "You'll get your hands filthy."
Such a considerate child… it made Nanashi's heart ache.
But he didn't let her escape. Instead, he gently pulled her into an embrace.
"W-Wait! Big brother, I—!"
Overwhelmed, Cai froze in his arms.
"My name is Nanashi," he said softly. "Bring your sister. Come with us. This place is no longer safe for you."
"Huh?" Cai blinked, dazed.
She struggled to process what he meant.
Red beamed with a childlike smile.
"Brother Nanashi is very kind. Enju and I are his little sisters too. You should come with us!"
Cai looked to Enju, who blushed slightly and gave a small nod.
A big brother… who would take in a Cursed Child as his own sister.
The warmth of his arms filled her with something she hadn't felt in a long time—hope.