Phoenix Force

(Shinra's POV)

Tokyo was never truly silent. Even in the earliest hours of dawn, when the sun had barely begun to creep over the skyline, the city never stopped moving. The streets were already alive with the hum of traffic, the rhythmic clatter of train wheels against the tracks, and the distant shouts of vendors setting up their stalls. The world kept turning, people rushing to work, students hurrying to school, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mixing with the metallic tang of the city air.

Yet, beneath all that movement—beneath the illusion of normalcy—there was always an underlying tension. A silent, ever-present fear that no one dared to voice. Because in an instant, with no warning at all, someone could burst into flames.

A mother, a brother, a stranger walking next to you.

Anyone.

And when that happened, all that was left were screams and cinders.

I sat on the train, my knee bouncing slightly as I gazed out the window, watching the blur of buildings pass by. The city stretched out before me, vast and sprawling, its streets never truly empty. No matter how many fires had burned, how many people had been lost, Tokyo kept moving forward.

"Look, look!"

A child's excited voice cut through my thoughts. I glanced to the side, my gaze landing on a little boy tugging at his mother's sleeve, his small finger pointing at a Fire Force poster plastered onto the train wall. It was a bold image—bright reds and oranges, Fire Soldiers standing tall against a raging Infernal, their blue-striped coats flowing behind them.

"They fight the bad guys! They save everyone!" the kid exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement.

His mother smiled softly, nodding. "That's right. The Fire Soldiers protect us."

I let out a quiet breath, leaning back against my seat.

Save everyone, huh?

If only it were that simple.

"They fight the bad guys! They save everyone!"

The kid's voice was full of awe, his excitement practically radiating off him. For a brief moment, I felt the corners of my lips twitch upward.

That's what I wanted to do too.

That's why I joined the Fire Force. To protect. To be a hero.

But then—his mother stiffened. Her grip on his tiny wrist tightened, and in a hushed voice, she whispered something to him. Her eyes flickered toward me, wary, cautious.

I didn't need to hear the words to know exactly what she was saying.

That boy… he's the Devil's Footprints, isn't he?

My faint smile disappeared.

I exhaled slowly and turned my gaze back to the window, watching the city blur past. It wasn't the first time. Wouldn't be the last. No matter how much time passed, to some people, I was still the monster in the dark. The cursed child. The one who should never have come back.

I clenched my fists, pressing them against my knees.

It didn't matter.

Today was the first step in proving them wrong.

And then—

BOOM.

The train rattled as an explosion rocked the station.

Screams tore through the air.

In an instant, chaos erupted.

The train jolted violently, brakes screeching against the tracks as it shuddered to a stop. People gasped, stumbling forward, clutching onto railings and seats for balance.

Outside the window, flames roared to life, licking hungrily at the subway platform. Passengers rushed to the glass, peering out in horror.

A man stood there—or at least, he had been a man. Now, his body was twisting unnaturally, flames engulfing his form. His skin blackened, his limbs stretched and deformed, reshaping into something monstrous. The fire swallowed him whole, his humanity vanishing in an instant.

An Infernal.

Terror spread through the train like wildfire.

People scrambled over one another, desperate to move, to escape. A woman shrieked as she fell, a businessman grabbed onto his briefcase like it could somehow shield him, a mother clutched her child against her chest, whispering frantic prayers.

Fear.

Desperation.

The kind of panic that only came when people realized there was no way out.

I pushed myself to my feet, muscles tensing.

This was it.

Time to prove them wrong.

I almost moved my feet

That's when they arrived.

The air shifted, tension crackling like static before a storm. The frantic screams, the chaos, the heat of the raging flames—it all seemed to dim for just a moment as a new presence took over.

Special Fire Force Company 8.

They moved with purpose, each step calculated, each action seamless. Not a second was wasted.

At the forefront was Captain Akitaru Obi, the only non-pyrokinetic among them, yet no less formidable. His broad frame cut through the smoke as he charged forward, muscles coiled with strength built from years of relentless training. He carried no supernatural abilities, no flames of his own—just pure, unwavering determination and the sheer force of human resilience.

Beside him, Lieutenant Takehisa Hinawa raised his firearm with mechanical precision, his sharp gaze locking onto the Infernal with chilling focus. He wasn't just shooting wildly—every bullet he fired was a calculated move, controlling the flames, boxing the monster in, cutting off its path with perfect efficiency.

Maki Oze was right behind them, her movements powerful yet impossibly fluid, fire bending to her will like a living extension of herself. With a flick of her wrist, flames curled and twisted through the air, transforming from a destructive force into a tool of control. She was fierce, yet disciplined. Strong, yet graceful. A warrior in every sense of the word.

And then, amidst the chaos, Sister Iris stood at the center of it all.

Hands clasped together, lips moving in silent prayer, she was an image of tranquility in the heart of destruction. Her presence alone seemed to cast a sense of calm over the scene, even as the inferno raged on. She didn't wield flames. She didn't fight. But the peace she offered was its own kind of strength.

They weren't just soldiers.

They were heroes.

And soon, I would be one of them.

…

"Good morning everyone " I'm Shinra Kusakabe ,, looking forward of working with you all"

When I first stepped into Company 8's headquarters, the air felt heavy—not with smoke or heat, but with unspoken tension.

I wasn't just another recruit stepping into a new assignment.

I was Shinra Kusakabe.

The Devil's Footprints.

And everyone in this room knew it.

Captain Akitaru Obi greeted me with a warm smile and a firm handshake, his welcoming energy standing in stark contrast to the quiet skepticism from the others. But even with his open friendliness, I could sense the lingering doubts in the air.

They weren't convinced.

And I understood why.

For twelve years, I had lived under the weight of whispered rumors and fearful glances. People never just saw me as a kid—they saw me as a monster. A freak with unnatural flames, a walking disaster waiting to happen.

I had spent too long being feared, too long being doubted.

That's why I was here.

Not just to be a Fire Soldier.

Not just to fight Infernals.

I was here to be a hero.

I straightened my posture, standing at attention with as much discipline as I could muster. If I wanted their trust, I had to prove I deserved it.

But then—like clockwork—the familiar, frustrating quirk of mine betrayed me.

That damn grin crept onto my face.

I clenched my jaw slightly, trying to suppress it, but it was already too late.

Lieutenant Hinawa narrowed his eyes at me, his gaze sharp and assessing, like he was already calculating a thousand different ways to take me down if I so much as blinked wrong. His expression didn't change, but I could practically hear his thoughts: Is this kid dangerous? Can he be trusted?

Maki, on the other hand, simply raised an eyebrow before crossing her arms, smirking slightly. "What's with that creepy smile?"

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. "Ah… it's just a habit," I muttered. "I don't mean to look creepy or anything."

Maki's smirk widened. "Well, you do."

Captain Obi let out a hearty laugh, the tension in the room easing slightly as he clapped me on the back with enough force to nearly knock me forward. "Well, as long as you're ready to work, kid. Let's see if you can put those flames to use."

I nodded, determination burning in my chest.

This was my chance.

My first real step toward proving them wrong.

We didn't even have time for a proper introduction before the sirens blared through the air.

An Infernal had appeared—this time, in a residential district.

No warm-ups. No easing into things.

This was my first mission.

My first real chance to prove that I wasn't just a reckless kid with a bad reputation. That I wasn't just the Devil's Footprints.

When we arrived, the house was already swallowed by fire, its structure barely holding together as flames licked at the sky. The air shimmered with heat, pressing against my skin like an invisible force, but I barely noticed.

My focus was on the Infernal inside.

Something was wrong.

I had seen recordings, heard stories—Infernal attacks were always violent, chaotic. They rampaged without thought, driven only by mindless destruction. But this one…

It wasn't moving.

It wasn't thrashing, wasn't clawing at the walls, wasn't attacking anything in sight.

It just sat there.

Silent. Still.

The crackling of flames filled the void, but even that felt eerily distant.

And then— a choked sob cut through the noise.

I turned, spotting a woman collapsed just outside the burning house, clutching a small child in her trembling arms. Tears streamed down her soot-covered face, her eyes locked onto the Infernal with unbearable grief.

"Please…" her voice broke. "That's my husband."

My breath caught in my throat.

"He wouldn't hurt anyone. Just… let him rest."

The world seemed to tilt slightly.

This wasn't just another monster.

This was a person.

I felt my chest tighten.

Captain Obi's voice broke through my haze, steady and commanding. "Shinra, this one's yours."

I swallowed hard and nodded.

My fingers twitched with adrenaline. This was it. My moment.

I took a step forward, ready to engage—

—And the second I did, the flames around me seemed to warp.

My breath hitched.

Because suddenly, I wasn't in a burning house anymore.

I was twelve years old again.

I was in my home, standing in the center of an inferno.

The walls twisted, blackened by flames, the air thick with smoke and something even heavier—fear.

I heard screams.

I smelled burning flesh.

I felt the heat searing my skin.

And then, the voices—sharp, accusing, cruel.

"You did this, Shinra!"

"Murderer!"

"Monster!"

My heart slammed against my ribs.

For a second, I couldn't breathe.

For a second, I was that scared, helpless kid again.

No.

No. Not this time.

I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms, grounding me.

I was not that helpless kid anymore.

I wouldn't freeze.

I wouldn't hesitate.

My flames wouldn't bring destruction this time.

They would bring salvation.

I kicked off the ground, flames exploding from my feet, propelling me into the air. The intense heat warped the air around me, but I didn't falter.

Twisting mid-air, I locked onto my target, dodging a collapsing beam as I zeroed in on the Infernal's core.

And then—I struck.

My foot connected with pure force, a shockwave of heat rippling outward. The Infernal let out one final breath, its body trembling—then crumbling.

The flames died out.

Sister Iris stepped forward, hands clasped in solemn prayer, her voice calm and steady as she offered the soul its final rites.

The woman, the widow, gasped in relief, tears streaming down her face as she held her child close.

And me?

For the first time in my life, my flames had saved someone.

For the first time in my life, my flames weren't something to be feared.

And this time, when I smiled—

It wasn't the Devil's grin.

It was the smile of a hero.