The Syndrome Called Riser Nafutori

The Syndrome Called Riser Nafutori



Prologue:



Let me warn you upfront—don’t expect a happy ending here. And whatever happens, don’t waste your tears on me. Doing that would defeat the whole purpose of why this story exists in the first place. Crazy, right? The idea that my existence is now classified as a syndrome? But, hey, that’s just how things turned out.



For those of you curious enough to stick around, let me clue you in. If you’ve never heard of me before, brace yourselves—because once you dive into this story, you won’t come out unscathed. The syndrome I carry? It’s contagious. It seeps into your very being. It becomes you. And, oh yeah, it bears my name.



Riser Nafutori. That’s me. I’m terrible at introductions, aren’t I? But you’ll get used to it. This isn’t a tale about curing what I bring—it’s about spreading it. Some, like my good friend Raiku and a few others, call it a disease. Me? I call it fate.



So, shall we start from the beginning? You’ve been warned.