Chapter 1115: Hitomi: The Phoenix in the Ashes

Tachibana’s voice was firm, laced with protective fury. "Sister Hitomi, don’t worry. I won’t let this bastard take advantage of you." His grip on her shoulder tightened, as if shielding her from an unseen threat.

Yuko, ever the pragmatist, gave a small, determined nod. But Hitomi... she didn’t react at all. Not a flinch, not a word. The emptiness in her expression was more unsettling than tears. Curious, I activated my Telepathy and let her thoughts flood into my mind.

[What advantage can he take of me...? It’s best he doesn’t vomit at the sight of my disgusting body...]

Her voice in my head wasn’t just sad—it was dripping with self-loathing, a quiet mockery of her own existence. The weight of it made my chest ache.

Tachibana, oblivious to her inner turmoil, gently took Hitomi’s healed hand in his. "Where is your room?" he asked, his tone softer now, almost pleading.

Hitomi lifted a trembling finger, pointing toward a door at the end of the hallway. Without a word, she led us inside. The room was dim, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic and something sharper—despair.

Yuko moved quickly, rummaging through a drawer before pulling out a strip of black cloth. "Now he can’t see anything," she announced, tying the blindfold around my eyes. The world went dark.

"Yeah... I can’t see anything," I lied, already activating my AI Lens. The blindfold was useless against it.

And then I saw.

Hitomi stood before us, her fingers trembling as she unbuttoned her baggy, one-piece suit. The fabric fell away, and beneath it—nothing but horror. Her body was a landscape of burns, charred and peeling, as if she’d been caught in a fire that refused to let go.

The skin had shed itself in places, revealing raw, glistening flesh underneath. It wasn’t just severe—it was miraculous she was still alive.

Yuko gasped. Tachibana let out a choked sound, his breath hitching. "Oh my God..." His voice broke. "Oh my God..." Tears streamed down his face, and Yuko wasn’t far behind, her hands flying to her mouth as she stumbled back.

I forced myself to stay silent, but my mind reeled. This wasn’t just burns. This was torture. This was a body that should have given up. And yet, Hitomi stood there, alive, her shoulders squared as if bracing for judgment.

Then, slowly, she reached for her sunglasses. The cap came off first, then the face mask. And there it was—her face.

Some parts were untouched, almost hauntingly beautiful in their normalcy. But the rest... the rest was a nightmare. The burns had claimed her skin, twisting it into a grotesque parody of what it once was. Only a few strands of hair remained, sparse and brittle, clinging to her scalp like the last remnants of a forgotten life.

Yuko couldn’t hold back anymore. She rushed forward, her voice a broken sob. "Don’t worry, Hitomi... It’ll be alright... We’ll fix this..." She reached out, but hesitated, as if afraid to touch her.

Hitomi’s eyes—red-rimmed, hollow—flickered with something between hope and resignation. Then they fell to her own body, and the dam broke. A single tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another. She didn’t make a sound. She didn’t need to. The silence of her grief was louder than any scream.

I couldn’t look away. Not because of the horror, but because of the strength. This woman... she had endured. Most would have given up. Most would have ended it. But Hitomi? She was still standing. Still breathing. Still fighting.

Yuko helped her lie down on the bed, her movements gentle, as if handling something sacred. Tachibana’s voice was rough with emotion. "First... heal her face."

Yuko nodded, then grabbed my hand, pressing it against Hitomi’s ravaged cheek. "Do it, Jack," she whispered. "Bring her back."

I activated Healing Touch.

The transformation was instant. The burns vanished, replaced by smooth, unblemished skin. Her hair regrew—long, black, and straight, cascading down her shoulders like a waterfall of silk. And her face... God, her face. She was stunning. The kind of beauty that made your breath catch.

Hitomi’s fingers trembled as she touched her own cheek. "M-my face... it’s back... My hair..." Her voice was a whisper of disbelief, as if she were afraid to speak too loudly and shatter the dream.

Yuko let out a watery laugh, her own tears falling freely. "Yeah... My beautiful Hitomi is back..." She cupped Hitomi’s face, her thumb brushing away a tear. "You’re you again."

Then, before I could process what was happening, Yuko grabbed my hand again. "We’re not done yet," she said, her voice steady despite the tears. She guided my palm to Hitomi’s neck, then her arms, her legs—

And then, without warning, her chest.

My fingers brushed against soft, warm skin, the curves of her breasts, the delicate peaks of her nipples—

Yuko’s grip tightened, her breath hitching as she guided my hand lower. "Hitomi... is... your..." She swallowed, her face flushed crimson. "Is your vagina okay... or...?"

My body reacted instantly. The sight of Hitomi’s healed, flawless body—plump, shaved, perfect—sent a jolt of heat through me. My cock hardened, pressing against my pants.

Hitomi’s breath hitched. "I... I’m okay... there..." Her voice was barely audible, but I already knew the truth. My Healing Touch had worked from the inside out. Even if there had been internal damage, it was gone now.

But I played along, letting my breathing grow ragged, my forehead beading with fake sweat. Tachibana, ever the caretaker, wiped it away with his sleeve. "Jack, are you okay? Do you need to rest?"

I shook my head. "I’m fine... I can continue."

Yuko bit her lip, her eyes flicking between Hitomi and me. "If you want, we can take a break..."

"No," I said, my voice firmer than I intended. "Let’s continue. Sister Hitomi has suffered long enough."

Yuko exhaled, then nodded. She moved my hand to Hitomi’s back, then lower, to the curve of her ass. Her fingers trembled as she guided mine into the cleft of Hitomi’s buttocks, pressing my fingertips against her tight, hidden entrance.

Hitomi flinched, but didn’t pull away. A soft, embarrassed sound escaped her, but she endured it.

Then, Yuko moved my hand down further—her waist, her thighs, her feet. Every inch of her was healed. Perfect.

And then—

I spurted blood from my mouth and collapsed.

The world spun, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision. I let my body go limp, my breathing shallow. The pretend faint was convincing—because, in truth, the Healing Touch did take its toll. But this time, I let it.

Yuko’s scream was piercing. "Jack?! What happened?! Are you okay?!" She shook me, but I stayed still, my body deadweight.

Tachibana’s voice was panicked, but he tried to sound reassuring. "Don’t worry... He’ll be fine. He fainted because of excessive use of his ability. When he healed me, he did the same... It’s normal. He just needs rest."

Hitomi, now fully healed, didn’t hesitate. She stood—naked, unashamed—and walked to her wardrobe, slipping into a nightie robe before returning, her steps uncertain. "Is he... really okay?" Her voice was small, laced with guilt.

Yuko tore the blindfold from my face, her hands shaking. "Tachibana, help me put him on the bed..." Together, they lifted me, laying me down gently. Yuko wiped the blood from my lips, her touch tender, her eyes terrified.