The Heart of Zero

Shingin wandered aimlessly down the bustling streets, his mind swirling with complex thoughts. His steps were slow, and his gaze lingered on the people around him. The streets were alight with dazzling lights, and the laughter of passersby filled the air. A mother and her young son walked by, the boy clutching her hand tightly. In his other hand, he held a giant ball of cotton candy, his sticky fingers a testament to his joy. He bit into the sugary treat with enthusiasm, his face smeared with sweetness as he laughed innocently. The mother patted his head affectionately, murmuring something soft, and the boy nodded eagerly, their world warm and secure.

Shingin's heart stirred as the vivid scene on the school rooftop replayed in his mind. He shut his eyes, as if trying to block out the icy rubble and the deafening cacophony of destruction. Thankfully, the school was mostly empty that day due to the sports festival. Most of the students and teachers had been away from the affected areas. Otherwise, the devastation from the battle of alien souls—the unchecked destruction, the spreading flames, the terrifying thunderclaps—might have caused a horrific disaster.

He dared not imagine what might have happened if that boy and his mother had been caught in such chaos. The scene before him—the bustling streets, the carefree crowd—would have turned into a nightmare. Children would be screaming, searching for their mothers, while parents frantically called out for their lost children amidst the pandemonium.

Shingin stopped in his tracks, feeling a sudden disconnection from his earlier actions, as if observing himself from a distance. He had always been aware of the alien soul's power and that he was no ordinary person, but he had never truly considered the consequences of wielding such power. He raised his hand, staring at his trembling palm. It looked so ordinary, indistinguishable from the hands of those around him. Yet he knew the power hidden within it could obliterate everything, like an invisible blade hanging above everyone's heads. Perhaps he had underestimated the destructive potential of his abilities—or worse, ignored the responsibility they entailed.

"Is this how power should be used?" he murmured, his gaze clouded with unease and doubt.

Images of Riyugi and Myouka suddenly flashed through his mind. Were they safe? His worry gnawed at him, though he refused to let it cloud his judgment. Scenarios and potential consequences played out in his head, each one vivid and heartbreaking. If the earlier battle had harmed them—or any innocent bystanders—how could he ever forgive himself?

Lost in thought, Shingin stood still on the crowded sidewalk as the haunting visions in his mind intensified. One after another, they came, like a relentless tide. He saw Riyugi lying amidst the rubble, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, her lifeless eyes staring into the void. Her clothes were torn and bloodstained, and her hands lay limply by her sides. Her chest rose and fell faintly as if she were whispering his name, but her voice grew weaker with each passing moment, like a candle flickering in the wind.

Next, he saw Myouka kneeling on the ground, her arm bent unnaturally from the impact of falling debris. Blood trickled from a deep gash, pooling around her knees. Her face was contorted in pain, but her lips pressed firmly together, suppressing her cries. Her eyes burned with defiance, brimming with tears as she seemed to silently accuse him, "Shingin, you have power—why do you let us suffer?"

Their teacher's figure followed, her usual stern yet kind expression marred by blood and soot. She struggled to stand, calling out the names of students she couldn't find amidst the ruins of the classroom. Her trembling hands sifted through the wreckage in vain, her desperate voice breaking through the eerie silence, still clinging to the hope that she could save someone. But the only response was the desolation of the debris around her.

Shingin's fists clenched tightly, his nails digging into his palms. These visions, though imaginary, felt so real they suffocated him. He stood frozen, his body rigid, unable to escape the guilt and regret welling up inside him. He questioned himself over and over again. If he hadn't engaged in that battle, if he hadn't let the alien soul's power spiral out of control, could all this have been avoided?

But then, another conflicting image emerged. His mind replayed the rooftop fight. Yahageshii had collapsed in front of him, clutching his chest in pain, his expression twisted in agony. Yet his hand had gripped tightly, refusing to let go, his determination unyielding. Behind him, Observer 20 approached with a sneer, his eyes brimming with contempt and murderous intent. Shingin could clearly see Yahageshii's alien soul flickering, nearly extinguished. In the next moment, 20's energy was poised to pierce through Yahageshii's body.

"No!" Shingin's heart screamed, a desperate plea echoing from his innermost depths. He knew that if he hadn't intervened, Yahageshii would have been crushed under 20's onslaught, his life reduced to ashes. And if Shingin had chosen to stand idly by, watching his comrade fall, wouldn't the weight of that cowardice and indifference haunt him even more? He could already foresee the torment he would endure if Yahageshii succumbed to his injuries, a guilt he could never escape.

"But... this power—should it really be used?" Shingin murmured again, staring at his trembling palm. The allure of power and its consequences tore at him, like an unyielding fork in the road. To wield power was to risk devastation and suffering; to withhold it was to abandon those in need. Each path seemed like an inevitable nightmare.

Amid his turmoil, Rayl's words surfaced in his mind: "You can't save everyone." The phrase was light, almost flippant, yet it struck Shingin like a blade to the heart. What he had once dismissed as cynical now seemed achingly clear. Responsibility and helplessness intertwined within him, forming an unbearable weight that pushed him to the edge. Perhaps the only escape was to abandon the naive fantasy of saving everyone.

Shingin stood silently at the street corner, a glimmer of resolve slowly emerging in his eyes. In the darkness, he seemed to find a faint exit. He knew he couldn't have it all. He understood now that this power, if left unchecked, would bring disaster. Clenching his fists tighter, he felt the weight of his decision settle within him.