This world is cruel.
Everyone comes to understand this truth eventually—it’s just a matter of how long it takes.
As for me, I was already aware of it from the moment I could remember.
I don’t know who my biological parents are... but that doesn’t really matter.
To me, familial affection is an unnecessary emotion.
According to the people at the Magic Development Bureau, as the so-called "Child of the Demon," I have no need for such things.
All I need to do is keep growing, undergo their research, and contribute to their so-called "great cause."
That’s enough.
...No matter how many times I see the crazed expressions of those researchers, I can never get used to it.
But it doesn’t matter—I don’t care.
After all, it has nothing to do with me.
Even if I did care, it would be pointless, because my body is bound to a cross by special chains engraved with countless magical runes.
The cross itself is made of a special material.
The power within me is drawn out by the cross and transferred elsewhere, used as an energy source for the Bureau’s research.
As for what it’s used for—that’s not something I need to worry about.
They always liked to say things I didn’t understand, like, "This child must be a demon’s orphan—how else could she possess such filthy, dark magic?" or, "It’s terrifying! Do I really have to get close to her to collect the sample? I might die!"
I thought that person was worrying a bit too much.
The ones who got killed before were only harmed because they approached me with malicious intent, which triggered a reaction from the energy within me.
Someone who feels only "fear" toward me wouldn’t be killed.
However, if he happened to get too close and was swallowed by my energy and treated as prey—well, I suppose I can’t deny that possibility either.
Come to think of it, the expressions of those people when they were terrified yet forced to approach me were quite amusing.
Though, I must say, they seriously lacked any sense of aesthetic.
How long did that period last?
Probably more than ten years. I had already grown used to being restrained, to being stared at with a mix of fear and fanaticism, to being used like a tool, and to being feared by everyone.
Even such a cruel fate—what choice was there but to accept it?
That’s what I believed.
Until that day came, I truly believed it.
That day, I awoke from my slumber and saw the sky above me—light rain was falling, drizzling gently, yet I could still clearly see the full moon hanging high in the sky.
So this is what the moon looks like?
So this is how it feels when rain touches your cheeks—so cool and refreshing?
At that moment, my eyes widened slightly as I greedily took it all in.
Because this was the first time I had ever seen the beautiful moon.
This was the first time I had ever felt the chill of rain.
I didn’t even question why these things were happening—I simply wanted to quietly savor the moment.
"Well, I didn’t expect such a pleasant surprise."
A calm, elegant female voice reached my ears, pulling me out of my daze.
I turned toward the source of the voice.
A young girl was standing in front of me—long pink hair, sea-blue eyes, and a delicate face.
Every part of her seemed to embody the very definition of perfection.
But more than her appearance, what truly captivated me was the aura she carried... a presence that felt detached from the mortal world.
I shifted my gaze and tilted my head slightly to look around.
The once-familiar room, filled with magical runes, the scent of potions, and magical materials, was gone without a trace.
The area around me had turned into scorched earth.
Only the still-smoldering ruins bore witness to the fact that the Magic Development Bureau had once existed here.
"What... happened...?" I asked with some difficulty.
Having been imprisoned for so long, I hadn’t spoken to anyone in ages.
Speaking suddenly was still a bit hard for me.
"Nothing much. I just killed a few ants, that’s all," the girl said casually, waving her hand as if she’d done something trivial.
She didn’t continue answering my question.
Instead, she leaned in, tapping her cheek with a finger as she looked at me with interest.
"You actually survived the destruction of this facility. That makes you... a little special, doesn’t it?"
"Don’t... get too close... or you’ll... be swallowed," I warned slowly.
The girl paused for a moment, then a flash of understanding passed through her eyes.
But her hand reached out anyway and gently touched my cheek.
It’s over—was the first thought that crossed my mind.
I knew my power well.
That black energy would definitely lash out at the girl, then devour her, turning her into fuel.
But just as I thought that, I was stunned to sense something utterly unexpected—my innate power, which had always raged uncontrollably within me, became calmer than ever the moment her hand touched me.
As if the force inside me was revering her... worshiping her... and fearing her.
"A faint trace of divine power... A throwback to godly blood, perhaps? How interesting," the girl said, her eyes narrowing into crescent moons as she spoke words I didn’t quite understand.
The curve of her lips seemed to grow even more flawless.
Then her hand slid to my chin, and she softly said, "It’s decided. From today onward, you belong to me."
There was no room for negotiation—she declared it just like that, on her own.
But... how should I put it?
Though I was surprised, I didn’t find her domineering tone unpleasant.
In fact, it felt as if, somewhere deep down, I had already expected this moment.
"By the way, what’s your name?" the girl asked again.
"Na...me."
I froze for a moment, searching my memory for anything that might be mine.
But thinking back on it, the people from the Magic Development Bureau had only ever called me things like "Child of the Demon" or "Cursed One."
Those labels didn’t really qualify as a "name."
So, after a brief hesitation, I slowly replied, "I... don’t have one."
"I see," the girl nodded lightly, then said, "That’s fine too. Since you now belong to me, I’ll be the one to give you a name."
A thoughtful look appeared in her eyes.
She raised her head to glance at the sky, and then suddenly, a glimmer of inspiration flashed through her gaze.
She clapped her hands and said, "You’ll be called Tsukiyo—Moon Rain."
"Tsuki...yo?" I repeated it, a little puzzled by the strange name.
"Yes, Tsukiyo," she replied with a gentle smile.
"I found you on a rainy night when the moon was still visible in the sky. So I’ve named you Tsukiyo."
...
From that moment on, I became hers.
From that night onward, I existed for her.
Her will became the foundation of my actions.
Even if I were nothing more than a puppet, it didn’t matter—tools don’t need a will of their own.
From the moment she gave me a name, from the moment she gave me freedom—
I, Tsukiyo—Moon Rain—became the blade in her hand, a blade that exists to carry out her will.
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