Once upon a time, there was only a blessing. The world and everything within it were born from the generosity of Goddess Fortuna. She was the weaver of fate, the one who adorned the skies with jeweled stars and nurtured life upon the fleeting earth. The Goddess was a singular being—fair, wise, and divine—whose breath was magic itself, and whose life was a blessing to all creation.
Yet her creations grew diverse, filled with ambition and desire. Countless races—mighty demons, wild beast-kin, diligent dwarves, graceful elves, and fragile humans—competed for dominance over the same lands. Among them, humans were born the weakest, lacking fangs, claws, or innate powerful magic.
Seeing their fragility in the brutal wars for territory, the Goddess bestowed one final spark of her power: a unique gift embedded deep within human DNA, a light form of magic known as "Potential." But such abundant creation demanded a price. Goddess Fortuna, weakened and fading, slowly vanished from the world's sight—forgotten by her children, now consumed by war and greed.
---
Morning sunlight pierced through the gaps of a small window, waking Ritsuki from his sleep. To the world, he was an anomaly—a human child born without "Potential." But in his small world, he was just a boy who woke with a smile, eager to greet his mother.
"Morning, Mom! What's for breakfast?" he called cheerfully, seeing her already busy in the kitchen.
His mother, Mizuha, turned with a warm smile that could calm any storm in his heart. "Fufufu~ If I tell you now, there'll be no surprise. Go wash up first, then we'll have breakfast together," she said softly.
"It's fish, isn't it?" Ritsuki guessed as he jogged to the bathroom.
Mizuha chuckled, returning to her cooking while humming a quiet tune. But as her hand reached for the spice rack, she froze. "Oh no, I'm out of salt and shallots," she muttered to herself.
As if in answer, the front door opened and a boy with lime-green hair partially covering his face stepped inside. "Excuse me, Auntie. Is Ritsuki home?"
It was Zidane Agato, Ritsuki's childhood friend—closer than brothers.
"Ah, Zidane! Come in, dear. Ritsuki's in the bath," Mizuha greeted brightly. "I'm making breakfast."
"Here, Auntie. Mom asked me to bring these," Zidane said, handing her a grocery bag.
Mizuha's eyes lit up as she peeked inside—salt, shallots, and other much-needed ingredients. The Agato family's kindness always came at just the right moment. "Oh, thank you so much! I really needed these," she said gratefully.
"You're welcome, Auntie," Zidane replied with a grin. "That sleepyhead still struggles to wake up early, huh?"
Both laughed lightly—until a loud, excited shout echoed from the bathroom. "TODAY'S DIFFERENT!"
---
After breakfast, Ritsuki and Zidane walked together to school. Halfway there, Zidane slapped his forehead. "Damn, I forgot my pencil," he groaned, dashing into a stationery shop nearby.
Ritsuki waited outside, when whispers began creeping into his ears.
"Look, that's Mizuha's son, isn't it?"
"Oh, him? They say he's defective—born without Potential."
"Poor Mizuha-sama. A great soldier forced to retire because of a cursed child like that."
Ritsuki pretended not to hear—he was used to the poison spilling from their mouths. His mother, Mizuha, had once been a legend—a genius soldier from Japan who rose to commander status through her incredible Potential. But she had given it all up for a quiet life with him.
Suddenly, a hard shove sent him sprawling to the ground. Four boys from his school stood before him, led by a burly kid named Bagas.
"Hahaha! So weak! One shove and you're down!" Bagas sneered, joined by his cronies' laughter.
Bagas raised his arm, and his skin began to harden, turning into rough stone—his Potential. "See this, freak? I should've been your mom's son! My Potential's even like hers!"
Ritsuki said nothing, eyes on the ground. The crowd gathered—not to help, but to watch.
"Beat that cursed kid up!" someone yelled.
"Yeah! It's his fault Miss Mizuha quit the army!"
Those words ignited Bagas's rage. He grabbed Ritsuki by the neck, lifting his small body before slamming his head onto the pavement. Blood trickled down Ritsuki's temple, but still he didn't fight back. A policeman nearby turned his head away, pretending not to see.
"Hit him again, Gas!"
Bagas grinned, his stone fist rising for another strike—but a sharp kick crashed into his jaw. Before he could react, Zidane was already between him and Ritsuki, eyes blazing with fury. "Disgusting," Zidane hissed. "Ritsu, why didn't you fight back!?"
"It's... normal," Ritsuki whispered.
Bagas tried to attack from behind, but Zidane blocked it with his own arm—now also turned to stone.
Bagas froze. "W-what the—!?"
Zidane didn't give him a chance to think. A swift kick to the gut and a solid punch to the face dropped Bagas to the ground, groaning in pain. Zidane's gift was a rare anomaly—he could mimic the Potential of anyone he touched, a power no one else possessed.
The crowd dispersed, disappointed at the anticlimax. Bagas and his gang fled, shouting empty threats.
---
Ritsuki's wounds once again landed him in the teacher's office. The same teacher, the same scolding. "Why are you fighting again, Ritsuki? Every day you come home bruised!"
"Sorry, ma'am. They started it," he murmured.
After the inevitable call home, the teacher handed him the phone. "Hello, Mom... I'm sorry," he said softly, bracing for another lecture.
But his mother's voice was cheerful. "Sweetheart, tonight we'll have something special! I'm bringing home pizza!"
Ritsuki's eyes sparkled. "Really, Mom!?"
"Yep. But please pick some cherries for the topping, okay?"
"Got it, Mom!"
---
That call was the only light in his gloomy day. After school, managing to avoid Bagas again, he and Zidane went to the small forest behind their neighborhood to pick cherries. They laughed and joked until sunset, filling two small bags with ripe red fruit.
"Be careful on your way home, Ritsu!" Zidane waved at the intersection.
"Yeah, see you tomorrow!"
Ritsuki walked home lightheartedly, imagining the taste of pizza topped with sweet cherries. "Oh no, I forgot to tidy the house!" he said, quickening his steps.
As he reached home, he saw his mother's military boots neatly by the door. His heart swelled with joy—she was home!
He rushed inside, holding up the cherry bag. "MOM! I'm home! Look, I got lots of cherries—almost dropped them earl—"
His words froze.
There, lying on the floor, was his mother—surrounded by a pool of blood. A deep wound marked her stomach. Her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. Beside her, a pizza box lay open.
Ritsuki's world shattered. Sound, color, and hope vanished in an instant.
"Mom... I'm home, Mom..." he whispered, trembling.
The bag of cherries slipped from his hand, scattering across the blood-stained floor. With empty eyes, he knelt beside her and lay down, wrapping his arms around her cooling body. He stayed there, sobbing silently, until the dawn broke.