Episode 1 : The Transmigrator (Part 6)

Kiharu Kimito...

He knew that name.

That was the name of the second main antagonist of the anime.

To think that this feminine-looking boy is actually the second season's main villain...

Ezakiel was in total disbelief.

His appearance was nothing like what he had seen in the anime. In fact, when Kiharu first appeared, he wasn't even human anymore—he was a monster. A terrifying one.

Adalous. That was the name he had taken after his transformation.

Standing at twenty-five feet tall, his monstrous form resembled a massive black-furred goat. Three haunting eyes gleamed with malice, and his sharp, venomous teeth dripped with a dark substance that corroded anything it touched. His battle-worn black armor made him look like a warrior straight out of a nightmare.

But it wasn't just his appearance that was horrifying—he was cruel, sadistic. His very first act in the anime had been forcing a mother to eat her own baby—then making a father watch as his daughter was ravaged by monsters.

Yet, the anime never explained how he had become a monster or why he harbored such deep hatred toward magical girls. Neither the anime nor the manga ever showed his human form.

All that was known was that he was once a student at Summer Fall High… and that something had happened to him.

I refuse to believe it...

Ezakiel stared at him, struggling to process the idea.

How could someone so delicate, so fragile-looking—practically like a girl—become that terrifying monster? It didn't make sense.

Just look at him. He doesn't even seem like someone who could hurt a fly!

Then, a vague memory surfaced.

In the light novel, there was a subtle hint—something about Kiharu being treated unfairly because of his "unique appearance."

That made sense. In Japan, standing out too much often led to trouble. Society valued conformity, and those who looked different or acted outside the norm were frequently ostracized. If someone didn't fit in—whether due to their looks, personality, or background—they were often ignored, excluded, or even bullied.

Maybe that was it. Maybe Kiharu had been bullied.

It would explain everything. In this world, people with overwhelming negative emotions could transform into monsters. If he had been pushed to the absolute limit, his despair and resentment could have triggered his transformation.

This could also explain why he hated magical girls.

In the anime, manga, and novel, he had said that they knew about his suffering when he was still human—yet none of them came to help. They ignored him, abandoned him.

And then, when he became a monster—something he had no control over—they suddenly appeared, not to save him, but to kill him.

Unfortunately for them, they failed.

The more Ezakiel thought about it, the more it all started to make sense.

"Hey, are you okay?" Kiharu asked hesitantly, noticing the troubled look on Ezakiel's face. "You seem... disturbed."

Disturbed? You have no idea what I'm feeling right now. 'Disturbed' doesn't even begin to describe it!

Ezakiel let out a deep sigh, his mind still racing. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Kiharu standing there, confused and unsure.

Kiharu watched him go, his expression unreadable. His fingers twitched slightly before he slowly lifted his hand, as if reaching out to stop him. But for some reason, he couldn't. His hand trembled in midair before falling back to his side.

All he could do was stare at Ezakiel's fading figure, a strange, unshakable feeling settling in his chest.

...

The cold water splashed across Kiharu's face, washing away the dust and sweat. Droplets ran down his skin, falling one by one into the sink.

He lifted his head, looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His pale face stared back at him, water dripping from his chin. He let out a slow breath.

His face was stinging, a dull pain lingering beneath the surface. But he didn't react. He had learned to endure pain long ago.

That guy... Ezakiel. I wish I was like him—strong, brave, and, most of all, normal.

He didn't want to admit it, but he was drawn to him. How could he not be? Ezakiel had appeared like a light in his life—a presence that felt warm, solid, and real.

After his parents died in a car accident, he had been left alone in a world that had never shown him kindness. People avoided him, whispering behind his back. To them, he looked strange—too delicate, too feminine for a boy. And because he was different, he had suffered. Beaten, mocked, and ignored throughout his school years, not a single person had ever stood up for him. No one had offered him a kind word.

Except Ezakiel.

If only I had met him earlier… maybe my life would have been different.

He wanted someone like Ezakiel in his life.

No—he needed someone like him.

If there had been someone like that by his side, maybe… just maybe… his hollow world wouldn't feel so empty. Maybe it could have been filled with color.

A strange feeling rose in his chest, sudden and unfamiliar. His heartbeat quickened.

What is this…?

Kiharu pressed a hand against his chest, feeling the rapid pounding beneath his palm.

Why is my heart beating like this? Am I getting sick?

Confused, he lowered his hand and gripped the edges of the sink. His breath came out shaky, uneven.

And for the first time in a long while, he wasn't sure what he was feeling.

He left the boys' restroom and stepped into the hallway, just in time to see Ezakiel walking past him. His white hair and red eyes stood out so vividly, creating a strange sensation in Kiharu's chest.

His heart pounded harder, as if reacting to something he didn't quite understand.

He left the boys' restroom and stepped into the hallway, just in time to see Ezakiel walking past him. His white hair and red eyes stood out so vividly, creating a strange sensation in Kiharu's chest.

His heart pounded harder, as if reacting to something he didn't quite understand.

"Hey, Ezakiel…" he called out, his voice uncertain.

He wanted to talk to him. To ask about this unfamiliar feeling that had suddenly taken root inside him. He didn't know what it was or how to deal with it, but for some reason, he felt like Ezakiel might have the answer.

But Ezakiel didn't seem to hear him. His expression was distant, lost in deep thought, as if his mind was occupied with something far more important.

Kiharu hesitated, debating whether to call him again. But in the end, he decided against it. He didn't want to bother him.

Maybe I should talk to him later, after school.

Yes, that would be better. He wanted to ask Ezakiel to teach him how to stand up for himself—how to fight, how to be strong. More than anything, he wanted to build a deep friendship with him, to have someone by his side who could guide him.

Just as he turned to walk away, leaving Ezakiel to his thoughts, he noticed three students approaching him.

Three girls.

The first had jet-black hair, cut neatly just above her shoulders, with soft, even strands that framed her face, giving her an innocent and composed look.

The second had long, dark hair that fell messily over her shoulders, with strands slightly covering her face, adding to the gloomy, distant aura she carried.

The third had sharp, neatly tied hair, perfectly arranged without a single strand out of place. She wore glasses that sat firmly on her face, making her look intelligent and strict.

He recognized all three of them immediately.

They were members of the student council.

The first girl was Nagisa Mizaki, the second Tohsita Enei, and the third Shihimari Shinomiya.

Their presence alone was enough to make people around them straighten their backs. Each of them wore the student council armband on their shoulder.

"Well, it took you much longer than I expected to come and get me," Ezakiel said, sounding slightly disappointed as he glanced at the student council members.

"We had important matters to handle first," Tohsita replied coldly. "Unlike you, we don't have the luxury of wasting time."

Ezakiel let out a dry chuckle. "Oh, I know just how busy you people always are," he said sarcastically. He ran a hand through his white hair, clearly uninterested. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with."

Nagisa's sharp eyes narrowed. "Watch your tone. You're speaking to student council members."

Ezakiel met her gaze without a hint of concern. "I don't respect anyone but myself," he said flatly. His crimson eyes flicked over them, unimpressed. "Besides, what's so special about you three? Just a bunch of average girls with nothing noteworthy about you."

Shihimari's expression twisted in anger. "Did you just insult us?!"

"Yes, I did," Ezakiel answered without hesitation. "Now, step aside. I'll go to the principal's office myself. There's no need for you to escort me—I don't want your kind anywhere near me."

"You—!" Shihimari took a step forward, her hands clenching into fists, but before she could act, Nagisa calmly raised a hand, stopping her.

She exhaled sharply and looked back at Ezakiel. "Even so, this is our job. Whether you like it or not, we have to do it. The principal made that very clear."

Ezakiel sighed, clearly annoyed. "Fine," he muttered, his voice carrying a strange bitterness. He turned his head slightly, his red eyes darkening. "I want to leave this school… this country. Go somewhere far away."

What… did he just say?!

Kiharu's eyes widened in shock. His chest tightened as Ezakiel's words sank in.

He was leaving.

The one person who had brought even a flicker of light into his dark world—his hope—was going far away. Somewhere unreachable. Somewhere he might never see him again.

A sharp pain spread through his chest, like something inside him had cracked. His fingers trembled at his sides.

No… I can't let that happen.

If Ezakiel left, he would be alone again. Truly alone.

The thought sent a cold, empty feeling deep into his heart.

But… what could he do?

His mind screamed at him to act, to say something—to stop this from happening.

But no words came out.

He clenched his fists, frustration and helplessness twisting inside him.

He cursed himself.

There was nothing he could do—nothing but stand there and watch as everything slipped away.