26/05/2026
Story of Kokichi Muta
The static in Kokichi Muta’s ears was constant. For seventeen years, his life was pure agony. Born with a fragile body that bled at the touch of moonlight, he lived tethers-deep in a dark basement, submerged in chemicals just to stay alive.
But when he closed his eyes, he became Mechamaru.
Through a metal puppet, he could walk. He could fight. He could be near his classmates—Todo, Mai, Kamo, and Miwa. But a machine cannot feel warmth. A puppet cannot touch a hand and feel a heartbeat.
Every time Kasumi Miwa smiled at Mechamaru, Kokichi’s real heart, miles away in that dark basement, would break.
“I want to stand beside them,” he whispered into his oxygen mask. “Not as a machine. As me.”
That desperate wish led him to a dark bargain. He became the mole for the curses in exchange for a healed body.
The transformation was agonizing, but when the light cleared, the pain was gone. For the first time, Kokichi looked at his own healthy hands. He wasn't crying from pain; he was crying because he was finally whole.
But the price of his freedom was a brutal, hopeless battle against Mahito.
He didn't fight to save the world. He fought to survive the afternoon. He fought for a chance to walk onto the Kyoto campus, look Miwa in the eyes, and say: “Hello. I’m Kokichi Muta. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
But against a disaster curse, desire wasn't enough. The cockpit shattered. The mechanical beast collapsed. Inside, Kokichi lay dying—his newly healed body broken in a permanent way.
Days later, on a speeding train far from the violence, a tiny mechanical earpiece in Miwa’s hand sparked to life.
"Miwa," a voice softly spoke. It wasn't the robotic drone of Mechamaru. It was young. Human.
"Mechamaru?" Miwa cried, pressing it to her ear. "Where are you?!"
"I'm already gone," Kokichi’s voice whispered. "Don't go to Shibuya. Stay on the train. Please... just be happy."
"No! We were supposed to protect everyone together!" Miwa sobbed, clutching the piece of plastic. "You were supposed to come see us!"
There was a long, heavy pause.
"I wanted to," Kokichi’s voice faded, sounding as if he were sitting right next to her on the empty seat. "No matter what happened, I just wanted to protect you. I wanted to see your face."
The light on the small doll began to flicker, turning from bright blue to a cold, dead gray.
"Goodbye, Miwa. Thank you."
