Chapter 6: Blazing Hero – Inferna①

What I told Raiden about being a university student was true.

I’d been one since I was fifteen. Now, at eighteen, I was a graduate student.
I had memories from my past life, and this brain was pretty sharp to begin with.

I skipped grades. More precisely, I skipped high school entirely and went straight into university.
Then I trimmed the usual four years of college down a bit, finished in three, and moved on to grad school.

I probably could’ve fast-tracked all the way to a doctorate, but being a grad student had its conveniences.

I could’ve blasted through to become a professor in record time, but that would just make me busier.
Less time for research.
I can’t stay a student forever, so maybe someday—but not yet.
For now, I’ll borrow scholarships and devote myself to steady research.

Up until second grade, I’d planned to live a normal life.
It was a brand-new life, after all. A chance to make up for past regrets.
Being reborn female was unfortunate, but when you’re a kid, gender doesn’t matter much.
With my mental age pulled down to match my body, I enjoyed children’s games, made friends.

But one day, that easygoing mindset came to an abrupt end.

A car accident.

My mother, who was driving, died.
My father, in the passenger seat, lost a leg.

And me—untouched.

Dad cried, insisting Mom had protected me. But he was wrong.

The truth is, I should have died too.
Or at least, I was hurt badly enough that death would’ve made sense.
He was too shaken to remember clearly.

All I remembered was writhing in agony so intense I wanted to die, watching my body slowly regenerate.

Crushed bones stretched back out.
Blood dried instantly.
I even locked eyes with my own eyeball, which had popped out and rolled across the floorboard.

I glanced at the driver’s seat—completely crushed.
So much mangled metal and meat that I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. Mom.

Dad managed to yank his trapped leg free, dragged me out.
And right as we escaped, the car exploded. Mom was blown to pieces.

Since then, I’ve publicly pursued medicine while secretly studying my own body.
If I could apply what I learned, maybe I could heal others too.

"That’s why dying in an explosion or by burning is the worst for me. Kind of a trauma."

"That’s… a heavy story."

Second-worst was being crushed.
Originally on par with burning or exploding, but after being trapped under rubble a few times, I got somewhat used to it.

I don’t want to be a heroine, but I do want to be a healer.

Healing others is more useful than healing myself.
In this world of heroes, it’s better to let someone else fight villains while I keep them standing.
And if you’re going to fight, healing is mandatory.

Battles between superhumans mean injuries on a completely different scale.
Which means the treatment has to be on that same level.

Compared to the Japan I remember, deaths are way higher here.
So are crimes, missing persons, and orphans.
Safety? Doesn’t exist.

The birthrate seems higher than I remember, but if most of those kids just die young, what’s the point?

And today, like always, I got caught up in another hero-villain battle.
I took some damage, so while waiting for my body to finish regenerating, I chatted with Raiden.
A nearby car exploded and caught fire, scorching me a little, so I told him that story.
Now he was holding his head in his hands.

Guess I picked the wrong topic.

Usually I just listen to Raiden ramble, but I thought I’d share for once.
Probably should’ve eased into it.
Three years of this back-and-forth made me think we were at least friends by now, but maybe I misread.
Alright, time to redirect.

"Anyway, I’m glad a new fire-using hero showed up. Not like it never happens, but it’s rare for powers to overlap. If a villain who just burns down cities appeared, that’d be a nightmare."

"Ah… yeah."

Raiden’s tone faltered. Even through the mask, I could tell he looked away.

Raiden’s a talker. Always running his mouth.
In the three years I’ve known him, he’s never once shared anything like a personal story.
Didn’t matter—he always had plenty to say, and it was usually interesting.
I never needed to talk much myself.

At least, that’s what I used to think. Today I tried flipping the script.

Turns out Raiden was also surprisingly good at listening. But my choice of topic had just been too much.
I’d bummed him out.

Next time, I’ll come prepared with a guaranteed crowd-pleaser.

"If you’ve got something to say, just spit it out."

Raiden’s easy to read. Honestly, I worry about how he’d handle mind games.

He always speaks so smoothly.
So when he trails off—when he drops a pause—it’s obvious something’s up.

He rubbed at the spot between his eyebrows with his middle finger.
Probably a habit from when he used to wear glasses.

Little habits like that could give away his identity. He really ought to be more careful.

Finally, after all his hesitation, he said it.

"Well… there’s a fire hero, sure. But the one with explosions…"

"There is one!? Oh, hell no—I don’t wanna die in a blast!!"

I was just collateral, not a hero nerd or a villain geek.
I’d read up on heroes, but I didn’t memorize every villain’s name or powers.

So there really was a walking bomb out there? Damn it.

Through the mask, I couldn’t see his face clearly, but Raiden’s voice was dead serious.

"This time, I’ll protect you for sure."

"Alright, I’ll… sorta believe you."

Raiden talks a lot.
He says things most people would hesitate to say.

I didn’t joke back with something like “Is that a proposal?”
And I didn’t cut him off cold with “Don’t say what you can’t do.”

Heroes should dream big.

Sometimes saying the impossible out loud—that’s what makes them reliable.