CHAPTER 8 - A New Beginning (1)

Having completed the task of packing his belongings, Ichiro proceeded to express his gratitude by distributing some of the gifts he had received to the hospital staff. The items served as tokens of appreciation for their dedicated care during his stay.

"Everyone, thank you for everything," he spoke with a sincere smile, the sentiment touching those who received his offerings. Their joy in accepting the gifts was genuine, yet beneath the surface, they harbored a sense of sympathy for the young man. They were acutely aware that his return home meant reuniting with a family that held him responsible for the tragedy that befell his mother.

"Hey, you better not go to dangerous places," one of the staff members advised with concern.

"That's right, always protect yourself," another chimed in.

"Don't roam around at night as well," a third warned.

Ichiro nodded appreciatively in response to each well-meaning comment. The genuine care and concern he encountered from these individuals warmed his heart. He truly recognized their efforts and goodwill.

With his bag in hand, Ichiro began to navigate the hospital corridors on his way out. The walls stood as witnesses to the countless stories of healing and recovery that had unfolded within these halls. As he passed through the doorway leading to the outside, he paused for a moment, casting a last glance at the hospital building that had become his temporary refuge.

The exterior of the hospital, bathed in the soft glow of sunlight, stood as a symbol of his journey toward recovery. It also marked the point from which he would soon embark on a new phase of his life—one that held challenges and uncertainties, but also the promise of growth and self-discovery.

Taking a deep breath, Ichiro steeled himself for what lay ahead. With determination in his step, he set off on the path toward his family's estate, the place he had once called home but now approached with mixed emotions. The hospital's warmth and the support of its staff had provided a bittersweet comfort, a haven of compassion amid the turmoil of his familial discord.

With no funds at his disposal, Ichiro found himself without any choice but to make the journey home on foot. His uncle hadn't left him any money either, leaving him with little recourse. The distance from the hospital to his family estate was considerable, but he faced the prospect with determination rather than dismay. Despite the weight of his belongings, a smile adorned his face, for he viewed the long trek as an opportunity to engage in an impromptu workout.

As he set off on his journey, Ichiro's brisk pace caused him to pass by pedestrians like a gust of wind, leaving them momentarily stunned by his speed. Among those with special abilities, his remarkable swiftness didn't go unnoticed.

"Who is that?" an elderly man seated in his car inquired of his steward, who occupied the passenger seat beside the driver.

"Who do you mean, Master?" the steward responded, peering in the direction indicated by the old man.

"That boy there, carrying all those bags on his back."

"Ah, well, I'm not quite certain…" The steward's words trailed off, his inability to recognize the boy apparent.

"He seems rather special," the old man mused, a hint of excitement in his tone at the discovery of what appeared to be a talented young individual.

Yet, the anticipation shared by both the old man and his steward was swiftly replaced with a somber realization as the driver recognized the young man.

"Isn't that Lady Takahashi's son?" The driver's interjection shattered the hopeful atmosphere.

"What?" The old man's surprise was evident.

"Who did you say he was?" The steward echoed the sentiment, his curiosity piqued.

"The late Lady Takahashi's son. I saw him some time ago…" The driver's voice wavered, the memory he was about to recount hanging heavy in the air. He had encountered the boy before, a time when he witnessed Ichiro being mercilessly beaten by his schoolmates. The driver had been en route to pick up some individuals as requested by his master when he had observed the incident.

"Are you certain?" The steward's disbelief was palpable, knowing that the late Lady Takahashi's son was believed to possess no special abilities.

"I'm sure of it. He came from that direction. I suppose it's true, he really did return from the dead," the driver affirmed, his conviction in the matter unmistakable.

"Dead?" The old man's curiosity was piqued.

"Master, there have been rumors circulating that they found him lifeless, drenched in his own blood. They took a day or two to discover him. By the time he was brought to the hospital, his heart had seemingly ceased to beat. However, when the morgue attendant was about to perform an examination, they sensed a heartbeat."

"So you're suggesting he returned from the dead after lying lifeless for days?" The old man's incredulity was apparent.

"I can't be entirely certain; it's just something I heard from a few friends."

Observing his master's expression, the steward quickly intervened, sensing the old man's growing interest.

"I'll immediately dispatch some individuals to verify the accuracy of this information," the steward assured, recognizing the significance of the revelation and the need for clarification.

The old man's interest had been thoroughly piqued, the story of Ichiro's supposed resurrection from death a topic that demanded investigation. The steward's resolve to uncover the truth resonated with his master, prompting a nod of approval.

As Ichiro neared his house, he was struck by the realization that his arrival had been remarkably swift—almost akin to riding in a car. The thought triggered a sudden unease within him, as he grappled with the potential challenge of explaining his inexplicable speed to his family.

Coming to a halt, he began pacing back and forth, his mind racing to formulate a solution for the predicament he found himself in. "Darn it, I didn't think this through," he muttered, frustration coloring his thoughts. Turning to the system that had been his constant companion, he sought its guidance. "System, any ideas?"

To his dismay, the system remained silent, offering no assistance or suggestions. Ichiro's hope for a quick solution was met with disappointment.

"Excuse me."

Startled, Ichiro looked up to find an elderly steward approaching him. Standing beside the steward was an imposing old man, who exuded an air of authority that left Ichiro in awe. He hurriedly stood up, brushing off any dirt and straightening his appearance, before addressing them. "Hello, sir. Is there something I can assist you with?"

Though Ichiro recognized the old man, he felt a certain awkwardness, unsure of how to approach him. Their interactions had been limited, occurring only a few times during the period when his grandfather had been present by his side.

"Are you all right?" the old man inquired, genuine concern lacing his voice.

"Umm, sure, sir. I think I'm, um, perfectly fine?"

Ichiro found himself at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond or engage in conversation with the old man before him. He averted his gaze, hoping to buy himself some time to formulate an appropriate reply.

The old man's next words took him by surprise. "Would it be all right if I offered you a lift home?"

"Excuse me?"

"Aren't you heading home?" the old man repeated with a genial smile.

"Ah, yes, sir, I... I am, but..." Ichiro stammered, caught off guard by the unexpected offer.

"Is there a problem?" The old man's expression remained patient, waiting for Ichiro to voice his concerns.

"Well..." Ichiro hesitated, grappling with his thoughts and emotions. The offer had taken him by surprise, leaving him uncertain about how to navigate the situation. His mind raced as he considered the implications of accepting such an offer from a figure of such stature.