A Hero Who Returns But Is Out Of Place

The laboratory was filled with tense silence as Yukikaze and Shiranui were placed inside the specialized apparatus. The device, a sophisticated blend of modern technology and Taimanin energy manipulation, was designed to use light as the primary medium for memory restoration.

Outside the glass chamber, Kaoru stood alongside Murasaki and several assistants. His expression was serious, his focus unwavering, though his thoughts occasionally drifted to the origin of this idea. Light. Why light? The question lingered in his mind, like a mystery he had solved almost by accident.

Some time ago, while in the world of Aslan, Kaoru had come across an intriguing document in the royal library. It was a petition written by a student from the magic academy who had been studying ways to store and access memories through light. Unable to resist his curiosity, Kaoru had read the document thoroughly.

The petition explained that light was the perfect medium for storing information due to its speed and lack of strain on the brain. The core idea was to use light energy to "trick" the brain into reprocessing existing memories or even creating new ones, potentially extending the endurance of magical warriors on the battlefield.

Although brilliant, the student's objective was controversial. Using magic to manipulate the mind was considered unethical by the academic community of Aslan. The petition was ultimately rejected, but Kaoru couldn't forget the visionary potential of the idea. While it defied academic morality, he saw tremendous promise in its applications for neurological treatment and modern psychology—particularly in the technologically advanced world where he now resided.

After returning to this world, the concept stayed with him. He began exploring ways to adapt the idea into something more practical, not reliant solely on magic but also grounded in technology. With the help of his company's research team and his own insights, Kaoru developed a prototype that eventually evolved into the device now being used with Murasaki.

But there was one thing he kept hidden: the true origin of the technology. Only Asuka knew the truth about him, and Kaoru was determined to ensure that secret remained sealed, even from Murasaki.

Back in the laboratory, Murasaki was monitoring a screen displaying the brain activity of Yukikaze and Shiranui. A gentle light began to suffuse the glass chamber, wrapping the two women in a soothing glow. Yet the tension in the room remained palpable.

"Kaoru-san," Murasaki called, her eyes fixed on the screen. "Are you absolutely certain this method will work?"

Kaoru nodded, though a flicker of doubt lingered in his mind. "Light doesn't just carry energy—it carries information. This process is designed to stimulate the brain to accept memory patterns transferred from Yukikaze. It's not an instant solution, but with this device, I believe the odds are in our favor."

Murasaki nodded slowly, though traces of hesitation lingered in her gaze. "I just hope it doesn't cause them any pain."

Kaoru met her gaze before turning toward the chamber. Yukikaze appeared calm, though there was a subtle tension in her expression. He knew the girl was willing to do whatever it took for her mother. Shiranui, meanwhile, looked more resigned, but a faint glimmer of hope shone in her eyes.

"It's safe," Kaoru reassured Murasaki firmly. "All prior tests showed no significant side effects. If there's any sign of danger, we can stop the process immediately."

Murasaki finally let out a sigh of relief. "Alright. In that case, I'll trust you, Kaoru-san."

As the light grew brighter, Kaoru watched the chamber with mixed emotions. The success of this experiment wouldn't just help Shiranui; it would also validate the concept he had brought back from another world. Above all, he hoped his efforts wouldn't let Yukikaze and Shiranui down.

"Murasaki, let's begin phase two," he said, his voice steady.

Murasaki nodded, her fingers dancing over the control panel. The light in the chamber shifted from soft to intense, pulsating like a heartbeat. Both Shiranui and Yukikaze seemed enveloped in the process, their eyes closed as the device worked to synchronize their memory patterns.

"Let's hope this works," Kaoru murmured to himself.

Inside the chamber, the light was more than just a tool. For Shiranui, it represented a chance to regain the part of herself that had been lost. For Yukikaze, it was a way to bring her mother back. And for Kaoru, the light symbolized hope—a belief that even in a chaotic world, human dedication and technological progress could create miracles.

The laboratory was bathed in a soft, pulsating glow emanating from the advanced device. It radiated a gentle rhythm, wrapping Yukikaze and Shiranui in its embrace. The process appeared serene from the outside, but beneath the surface, something extraordinary was taking place.

Yukikaze remained stable. Her expression was calm, showing no signs of discomfort. Outside, Murasaki monitored her vitals on the screen, ensuring the memory transfer was proceeding as planned. But the primary focus was on Shiranui.

Inside the chamber, Shiranui began to stir. Her face twitched, as if processing something intense. Within her mind, hazy images started to emerge. Memories—but not her own. She saw herself, not through her eyes, but through Yukikaze's.

The first memory was of a beautiful woman with flowing hair laughing softly in a garden. It was her—Shiranui—as seen through Yukikaze's eyes as a child. A small hand reached out, and Shiranui, in that memory, lifted her, spinning her around joyfully as their laughter filled the air.

"Mother… you're so beautiful," Yukikaze's voice echoed faintly in the memory, a sweet moment etched in her daughter's heart.

Shiranui froze in her mind, overwhelmed by a warmth she had almost forgotten. Me? Beautiful? she thought, startled by how her daughter had seen her. The image felt so vivid, so deeply emotional, it made her chest tighten.

The next memory struck with greater force.

She saw herself battling a formidable enemy, her sword flashing swiftly, her movements fearless. Yet, through Yukikaze's eyes, the fight looked like an elegant dance. A younger Yukikaze watched from a distance, her eyes shining with admiration.

"Mother always protects everyone… You're a hero," Yukikaze's voice resonated again.

The words reverberated through Shiranui's mind, bringing tears to her eyes. The pride she had long forgotten surged back, mingled with a profound guilt for losing those precious memories.

Outside the glass chamber, Kaoru observed the changes unfolding. He noticed Shiranui trembling slightly, her hands gripping the armrests inside the chamber. "Murasaki, is this normal?" he asked, tension creeping into his voice.

Murasaki scrutinized the screen carefully, then nodded. "Her vitals are stable. There's no sign of danger. But it seems… the memories she's receiving are very intense."

Kaoru exhaled deeply, relieved but still vigilant. His eyes remained fixed on Shiranui, who seemed to be navigating a torrent of memories within her mind.

Another memory surfaced. This time, Shiranui saw a more mature Yukikaze gazing at her with eyes filled with longing for recognition.

"Mother, I want to be like you," Yukikaze's voice rang with determination. "I want to be strong, to protect others… just like you've always done."

Shiranui realized that in this memory, she hadn't responded. She had simply looked at Yukikaze with a faint smile. But now, within her own mind, she felt a deep regret. I never told her… I never told her how proud I am of her.

Tears streamed down Shiranui's face in the real world. She now saw her entire life through Yukikaze's perspective—not just as a mother, but as someone deeply loved, admired, and depended upon. The emotions overwhelmed her, piecing together fragments of herself that had been lost, restoring who she truly was.

Kaoru noticed the tears and, despite his usual stoic demeanor, felt a pang of emotion. "She's starting to recover," he murmured.

Beside him, Murasaki allowed herself a small smile. "It seems this process is about more than just transferring memories. It's reconnecting their hearts. Yukikaze's memories aren't just data—they're emotions."

Kaoru nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. "Perhaps that's why light was chosen as the medium. Light carries more than information. It carries warmth, life… and hope."

Inside the chamber, Shiranui's eyes finally fluttered open. Her gaze met Yukikaze's, who now appeared slightly drained but wore a relieved smile.

"Mother… do you remember me now?" Yukikaze asked softly, her voice filled with hope.

Shiranui looked at her daughter, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she recognized her completely. A warm smile graced her face, even as tears continued to fall.

"Of course… Yukikaze. I remember. Everything… I remember it all."

Yukikaze instantly embraced her mother tightly, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks. "I missed you so much, Mother."

Outside the chamber, Kaoru observed the heartfelt reunion with a faint smile. Beside him, Murasaki exhaled a sigh of relief, knowing that the experiment had been an extraordinary success.