Chapter 4

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Takizawa Sei would be placed in the mission world by the system under a suitable identity. Orphans were often the most convenient choice. Under the pretext of being a "child with potential," Takizawa Sei was taken in by the Gojo family and trained alongside several other children. Like a victorious king in the arena, he stood amidst a pile of curled-up, sobbing children on the ground, breathing heavily and looking somewhat disheveled, yet his back was straight and proud. His pair of bright blue eyes gleamed as they stared fixedly at the person in charge. As he later recounted, he had fought through countless hardships to reach Satoru Gojo's side.

But the ten-year-old Satoru Gojo showed little reaction to his arrival. Standing beside a maid, a crimson umbrella shielded him from the falling snow. The world around was silver-white, and Gojo himself was an aloof, icy white figure.

Those deep blue eyes, reflecting the cold sky and swirling snow, always imposed an invisible pressure on anyone who dared meet their gaze.

Snowflakes settled on Takizawa Sei’s hair. Some of the defeated children on the ground began to weep aloud, tears streaming down their faces and melting into the snow.

Takizawa Sei kept locking eyes with Satoru Gojo. His gaze was direct and intense, with no hint of retreat. Gojo blinked, seemingly caught off guard by the stare.

Before anyone could speak, Takizawa Sei turned back and helped a crying child off the ground, wiping away his tears with his sleeve. “Don’t cry. It’s so cold; tears will freeze and make your face crack.”

Hearing the face might crack, the few children still sniffling quickly pressed their lips together, their strained expressions rather comical.

The person in charge said a few words of introduction and gestured for Takizawa Sei to stand properly. Supporting his trembling legs from exhaustion, he stepped forward to Satoru Gojo and bowed slightly.

He was exactly two years older than Gojo, and at an age when even a single year made a noticeable difference in height, Gojo was clearly smaller in stature.

Takizawa Sei smiled and extended his hand. “My name is Takizawa, Takizawa Sei.”

His smile was like the warm sun breaking through the frost, his eyes moist and reddened from the cold but shining with tenderness.

Under that expression, Gojo’s eyes widened slightly; his chest visibly rose and fell, as if he had seen something dazzling. He reached out his hand—

Then suddenly slapped Takizawa Sei’s hand away.

“...”

The atmosphere froze instantly. Takizawa Sei pursed his lips, touching his hand, muttering, “You’re so rude.”

And so, Takizawa Sei remained by Satoru Gojo’s side.

He bore many flattering titles: the Six Eyes’ attendant, playmate, partner, the trusted confidant the Six Eyes was nurturing.

But Takizawa Sei himself knew who he truly was—he was Satoru Gojo’s second life.

This world was filled with dangers far beyond reason. Numerous high-risk events, originally unlikely, swirled around mission targets: accidents, assassinations, hostility. He might have been snuffed out before even growing up.

Thus, the need for a companion-type tool, thus Takizawa Sei’s existence.

Takizawa Sei’s purpose was to protect him.

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Satoru Gojo was well aware of this: Takizawa Sei was placed by the Gojo family beside him, a perfectly brainwashed puppet. Devoid of autonomous personality, he was instilled with rigid ideas from childhood, living not for himself—a pitiful, detestable creature.

But this notion was soon shattered by Takizawa Sei’s unruliness—he was far from the obedient child others imagined. He tore away the facade Gojo had constructed, forcibly integrating into his emotions and life.

So much so that later, whenever anyone mentioned Takizawa Sei’s role, Gojo would become anxious. He absolutely could not tolerate anyone referring to Takizawa Sei as his substitute or scapegoat.

He would grab Takizawa Sei’s shoulder, lean into his neck, and with an intimate tone say, “Nonsense! He’s my dearest friend.”

Then, he would glance at Takizawa Sei with a strange look, as if seeking his opinion.

Takizawa Sei would always nod cheerfully in agreement, yet on many occasions, inexplicably, he sensed Gojo’s slight disappointment.

Disappointed about what? Didn’t you say he’s your dearest friend?

***

Dearest friend.

Now resurrected, Takizawa Sei rolled the word over on his tongue, feeling his heart grow warm once more.

Though he had wasted a chance to find someone, and felt a tangle of frustration, he knew he had ample time ahead—no longer restricted by some partner mission’s constraints.

His mood did not affect his rapidly healing wounds. Takizawa Sei thought his strange constitution might scare others, so he discharged himself from the hospital as soon as he could. Miss Kobayashi worriedly urged him to stay longer, offering to lend money if needed.

“Thanks, but I think I’m fine now. I’ll have regular check-ups. When I have time, I’ll treat you to some sweets.” Takizawa Sei declined her kindness, packed up the warm gifts from the medical staff, and left. On the way home, he took in a homeless golden retriever and wrote his name on its dog tag.

He seriously re-registered his household, erasing traces of his past life under the guise of a historical natural disaster. Then he borrowed rent money from a kind-hearted man named Jinpei Matsuda, took a blank diploma to work part-time at a convenience store, and even drew an advance on a month’s wages.

After some busy days, he suddenly transformed from having nothing into an ordinary person.

Jinpei Matsuda felt reassured by his proactive attitude.

“Was your injury a misdiagnosis?”

Takizawa Sei, now able to leap about, carry heavy things, and ride a bike, looked up from the shelves. “I told you, I’m strong.” He walked to the counter to pay with his own card.

“Here, it’s on me. You just got off work, right?” He leaned on the counter, relaxed and comfortable. “Been busy lately? You seem like you haven’t slept well for days.”

Jinpei Matsuda took the heated ready meal and sat down with Takizawa Sei at a small table by the convenience store window. Their feet rested on the rounded stool footrests, outside the street was busy with passing traffic.

“Got a case, but the leads are thin. No suspects found yet,” Matsuda said, lifting the plastic lid but not eating immediately. He rested his head on one hand, “It’s so frustrating.”

Takizawa Sei patted the big cop’s shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay, another day alive!”

Matsuda gave a half-smile. “If you have that mindset, why did you jump off a building in the first place?”

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Takizawa Sei retorted firmly, “I didn’t! Don’t spread rumors!”

Matsuda tilted his head, watching him.

In his blurry gaze, Takizawa Sei quieted down. In the just-right atmosphere, he grumbled, “You’re definitely treating me like a stand-in.”

“I told you, no,” Matsuda waved his hand, “He’s irreplaceable.”

Takizawa Sei shuddered exaggeratedly. “Wow, you admitted it! Who’s ‘he’? Why think of ‘him’? I never said anything about ‘him’!”

“...”

Matsuda pushed away Takizawa Sei’s face as he leaned in too far, then rested a heavy hand on his shoulder as he pulled back.

Takizawa Sei: “?”

Strange.

He straightened up, drank expired children’s calcium milk, and glanced at Matsuda’s profile... The young man’s lips curved with a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

Ugh, chills.

They sat together like old close friends.

“Has your mind thought of anything recently? Don’t you have a single friend you know?”

“I do. My social skills aren’t that bad.” Takizawa Sei tossed the empty bottle into the bin. “I once had a friend who hated me—not the person, but my identity. He thought I was like a fallen bird with broken wings locked inside a cage.”

“...Your friend sounds quite poetic.”

“That was one of the few artistic things he ever said.”

“Then why didn’t they report you missing when they couldn’t reach you?”

“...Because reporting it wouldn’t help much...” Takizawa Sei’s voice dropped. “The police can’t find people either. Nothing helps.”

“...”

In this world, death is the only distance that cannot be crossed.

He once breathed, once lived through the seasons, but one day, he stepped beyond light and shadow, beyond time.

And there was no longer any Takizawa Sei.