Chapter 2: Awakening

Takaya Homare was sprinting madly through the hospital’s emergency stairwell.

He simply couldn’t bear to wait for the hospital’s sluggish elevator, which, during peak hours, seemed to stop at every single floor.

There were no security cameras in the emergency stairs, so Takaya, an Amayalumian, desperately used his teleportation ability in succession, exhausting what little strength he had left. Now, his vision was spinning with stars, and he could barely catch his breath.

Reaching his destination, Takaya nearly crashed through the fifth-floor emergency exit door. Without even pausing for air, he staggered forward through the bustling hospital corridor, anxiously searching for Emergency Room No. 3.

…

…

The clock turned back to eight o’clock that evening.

After completing the day’s escort mission for little Sandrias, everyone had clocked out and gone home. Takaya was on duty tonight; he would stay at the Aegis headquarters until ten, watching over the emergency hotline that hadn’t rung in ages.

Eighty percent of Aegis’s assignments came through President Kana Sasaki’s personal connections and reputation; very few clients actually called the number on the flyers.

Takaya was used to this. While on duty, he kept himself busy, grabbing some exercise equipment and working out on the open floor nearby.

—Ring ring.

Suddenly, the phone rang, sharp and unexpected. Takaya froze for a second, then dove for the phone, answering in his best professional tone: “Thank you for calling, this is Aegis…”

But the voice on the other end left him utterly stunned.

With a loud clatter, the dumbbell in his hand fell to the floor.

He didn’t even bother changing clothes—simply threw on the Aegis uniform, dashed out the door, and called the president as he ran.

Yuki had been shot. Someone dumped him at the hospital entrance—no one knew by whom. Doctors and nurses had already rushed him into the emergency room. They found out where he worked from his Aegis uniform and ID badge, then called the number on it, which led them to headquarters.

Takaya finally located Emergency Room No. 3. He was still out of breath when a doctor hurried over to ask his relationship to the patient. Upon hearing they were colleagues, the doctor frowned, produced a consent form, and explained the situation: Yuki’s condition was critical. They wanted to try treatment options that carried certain risks and side effects, but without a signature from a family member, guardian, or someone legally connected, they couldn’t proceed.

Furious, Takaya snatched the risk disclosure form from the doctor, scrawled his name without a second glance, and urged the doctor to save his friend.

He knew that in emergencies, colleagues could sign off, too. If they wasted time trying to contact the president or Yuki’s mother, who lived far away, it could be too late.

The doctor, seeing Takaya’s gasping, ashen face and trembling hand as he signed, understood he must be a close friend—and without further delay, rushed back to the ER to wrest Yuki from death’s grip.

Very soon, President Sasaki arrived as well.

Takaya gave her a quick rundown of the situation: all he knew was that Yuki had been shot on his way home from work and discovered unconscious in a camera blind spot at the hospital entrance. It wasn’t the scene of the attack; no gunshot had been heard, and no one knew how he got there.

Even so, Takaya already had suspicions about the truth behind it all.

Aegis, after all, though just a private security firm, was easy to make enemies. The things you protected were the very things others wanted to seize or destroy; the people you guarded were the very people others wished dead.

It was a simple matter of conflicting interests—resentment came easy.

Yes, they were just hired help; the real grudges lay elsewhere. But that was the nature of security work—bodyguarding was a high-risk profession.

In the waiting area, President Sasaki was on the phone with the insurance company. She had taken out personal insurance policies for every employee, but for a specialized field like theirs, not many companies dared to underwrite them. The risks were simply too great. Fortunately, President Sasaki’s extensive connections had found a special channel, though the premiums were several times higher than usual.

Several hours later, Yuki was wheeled out of the ER, his vital signs finally stable.

……

…

A strange… ceiling.

When Yuki finally opened his eyes, Takaya—on duty as tonight’s bedside companion—nearly burst into tears.

Yuki had been unconscious for over ten days.

The risk disclosure form Takaya had signed in his panic specifically mentioned that, due to severe blood loss and delayed treatment, the patient’s brain had suffered hypoxia, and there was a chance of post-operative brain damage—at worst, permanent coma.

The best outcome, of course, was no complications at all.

But there was a significant risk of sensory and emotional disorders, motor impairment, amnesia, and a host of other common side effects from brain injury.

At first, everyone at Aegis prayed for Yuki to wake up unharmed.

But as one day slipped into the next and Yuki lay unconscious, they gradually lowered their hopes: so long as he didn’t become a vegetable, any outcome would do.

Maybe it was their prayers. Maybe it was simply modern medicine’s miracle. After more than ten days in a coma, Yuki finally woke up.

He opened his eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling.

Then a face suddenly appeared, filling half his field of vision.

“Yuki! Yuki! Look at me, do you recognize me? Yuki!”

“…”

Facing Takaya’s anxious questioning, Yuki turned his head sluggishly toward him, his pupils slowly focusing…

And his face showed nothing but bewilderment.

Trouble. That was the only word in Takaya’s mind.

—Yuki doesn’t recognize me. Yuki’s lost his memory.

—No, it’s all right!

Takaya forced himself to perk up, a glimmer of hope lighting his eyes.

—Even if he’s lost his memory… It’s enough that he’s alive!

Just as Takaya was trying to reassure himself, a dry, hoarse voice came from Yuki’s side.

“A… Takaya… senpai…?”

“…”

For a moment, Takaya was dumbstruck. He had already prepared himself for Yuki not to recognize him, and was ready to accept it. But then, joy surged through his mind.

Yuki hadn’t lost his memory! He was probably just dazed after such a long coma!

Takaya’s face instantly broke into a smile. He hurried to get a water cup, inserted a straw, and offered it to Yuki, all while frantically typing in the Aegis group chat—

Yuki’s awake!

But Yuki, lying in bed, still looked blank. After calling out “Takaya-senpai,” he fell silent. Only he knew the truth—he was trying to escape reality.

What was going on here?

There was never a storyline in “Ultraman Taiga” where Yuki got seriously injured and ended up in the hospital!