Chapter Fifty-Three: Feelings That Are Hard to Let Go

“Why do you want to leave this timeline?” Masaki Keigo was genuinely puzzled. Ryuze Kosaka didn’t seem like someone who would risk his life for the thrill of adventure.

“I have reasons that leave me no choice!” Ryuze’s tone was resolute as he gazed into the pitch-black night sky. His deep eyes seemed to pierce through dimensions, catching sight of the distant Land of Light.

“Since I promised you, I will keep my word. I’m not someone who breaks promises lightly!” After a moment’s silence, Masaki Keigo spoke slowly.

“Then, when the time comes, remember to bring Daigo with you. After all… I’m not very familiar with him.” Ryuze said this earnestly. It was true—he wasn’t close with Daigo in this timeline.

Still, he believed that Daigo’s kind nature would surely prompt him to help. After all, during their brief battle against the third-generation Kyrieloid, they had fought side by side, if only for a short while.

“All right.” In the snowy night, Masaki Keigo pulled out his transformation device and waved it in front of Ryuze, its brilliance eye-catching.

“That’s…” Ryuze’s eyes widened with curiosity.

“This is what allows me to evolve into light!” Masaki Keigo played with the strange silver device in his hand. Its shape was somewhat akin to the Spark Stick, but it was more angular and distinctive.

“It seems you’ve truly been recognized by the Light,” Ryuze said, admiration in his eyes. He hadn’t expected that, because of him, Masaki Keigo’s life would take such a dramatic turn.

“I thought you’d still need the Light Genetic Particle Converter and Daigo’s Spark Stick to transform, just like before!”

Masaki Keigo grinned, his eyes narrowing mischievously. “So, when do we begin?”

“Not just yet. First, I need to flush out the one coveting the Giant’s power behind the TPC!” Ryuze’s voice grew cold, a sudden wave of murderous intent flashing through him, startling Masaki Keigo.

The killing aura vanished as quickly as it appeared, and Masaki Keigo finally regained his composure.

“You mean there’s someone in TPC lusting after the Giant’s power?” Masaki asked, genuinely intrigued. He hadn’t expected that someone within TPC would crave such power—much like he himself once had.

“Yeah…” Ryuze slipped his long fingers into his coat pockets as the two of them strolled through the snowy night.

“I was nearly killed twice by assassins sent by that person.”

Turning his head, Ryuze continued, “Do you know Dr. Tango from TPC?”

“You mean Dr. Tango from the TPC Biological Research Institute?” Masaki gave a slight smile. “You can’t possibly suspect that timid fellow of being the one behind your attacks, can you?”

“Based on my investigation, he’s highly suspicious, though I can’t rule out others,” Ryuze exhaled, his breath condensing into a warm cloud in the frigid air.

They discussed how to expose the organization behind the scenes. Masaki Keigo, too, was now deeply interested.

Pure white snowflakes adorned the dark night sky, and the sparse glow of household lights illuminated the small town.

…

“All right, it’s settled. Whether or not Dr. Tango is the mastermind, I will drag him into the light!” Ryuze turned, clapping Masaki Keigo on the shoulder.

Though Masaki Keigo was eager to help uncover the villain with Ryuze, Ryuze politely declined his offer.

He had to do it himself. Whoever caused him pain would answer for it—by his own hand.

This was the temperament Ryuze had developed since childhood.

After they parted ways, Ryuze returned to his grandmother’s house in high spirits. Masaki Keigo had agreed to his terms, helping him leave this timeline and bringing him ever closer to his plan. He was genuinely happy.

Yet… some ties are hard to sever.

When he arrived home, it was still early. The old television flickered with static, filling the room with white noise—apparently the signal was lost.

“You’re home early today,” his grandmother said kindly, her gentle gaze settling on Ryuze. Her wrinkled face was all smiles, the lines of age seeming to soften.

“Yes,” Ryuze replied with a smile. He glanced at the snow-filled screen, frowning slightly.

He stepped forward and found the antenna cable loose. With a simple adjustment, the television came to life again, broadcasting vivid images and sound.

“I thought the TV was broken,” his grandmother said, visibly pleased. “Your grandpa bought this set back when he was still with us. So many years have passed, the TV remains, but he’s gone.”

Ryuze didn’t know what to say. All he felt was an overwhelming sense of attachment to her.

Though not related by blood, she was family—perhaps more so than anyone else.

Before crossing into the Ultraman world, he’d lived in a single-parent home. His parents divorced when he was a toddler. He grew up with a father who drank constantly and paid him no mind. It was his grandmother who taught him what family truly meant.

“Ryuze, you’re leaving soon as well, aren’t you?”

She smiled softly, her words gentle but tinged with reluctance.

“Grandma, I…” Ryuze opened his mouth, wanting to explain, but whatever he said now felt powerless. He truly was planning to leave.

“I know you and Redel are both good children destined for great things,” she said kindly, her face even older in the dim yellow light.

“Don’t worry about me. Go, both of you.”

With a gentle smile, she continued.

“Grandma…” Ryuze sat down beside her, clutching her wrinkled hand tightly.

“I promise I’ll come back to visit you!” he said with conviction.

“No matter where you go, my home will always be yours—and Redel’s too.” She kept smiling, but Ryuze’s eyes grew moist.

Under the yellow lamplight, Ryuze suddenly embraced her frail frame, tears welling up and quietly spilling over as he began to sob.

“There, there…” She gently patted his broad back.

“You’re a grown man now, why are you crying?” She seemed to recall her own son, remembering how he too, as a child, loved to cry in her arms.

But now, that son had failed her.

Ah…

That night, though the bed was warm, Ryuze barely slept.

So many bonds, so many ties—impossible to let go.