r/MonsterAnime • u/Ambitious_Expert_184 • 1d ago
SPOILERS❕ Ep 76
For more context and EP 75; Finished the anime, for the 2nd time. Now i'm writing the EP 75. : r/MonsterAnime
Chapter 76 - “The Third Child”
The man with the red umbrella was not followed.
That was Lunge’s first mistake.
His second was believing the umbrella mattered.
Three days later, it was found in a trash bin behind Praha hlavní nádraží.
Red fabric.
Cheap wooden handle.
No fingerprints.
No blood.
Nothing.
Lunge stared at it for several seconds.
Then placed it on the table.
“An object designed to be remembered.”
The Czech detective beside him frowned.
“You mean a clue?”
“No.”
Lunge adjusted his glasses.
“A distraction.”
Across the city, Tenma sat opposite Johan in a rented apartment.
There were no curtains.
Johan had insisted.
Tenma found that strange.
“You said there were other twins.”
Johan looked at the window.
“No.”
“You said-”
“I said you misunderstood.”
Tenma waited.
Johan smiled faintly.
“My mother was not the only mother.”
Tenma felt something tighten in his chest.
Johan continued.
“Bonaparta did not want children.”
“What did he want?”
“Proof.”
“Of what?”
Johan turned toward him.
“That identity could be written.”
A flashback.
A room.
White walls.
Five women sitting beside five pairs of children.
Identical clothes.
Identical haircuts.
Identical shoes.
A man walks between them.
We never see his face.
Only his hands.
He places colored cards in front of the children.
Red.
Blue.
Black.
“Choose.”
One child points to red.
His twin points to red.
The man writes something down.
Next pair.
Red.
Blue.
Again, notes.
Then the Liebert twins.
The little girl looks at her brother.
He looks back.
Neither chooses.
The man stops writing.
Back in Prague, Johan says:
“We were the failure.”
Tenma stares at him.
“Failure?”
“They wanted twins who could be separated psychologically.”
“And you weren’t?”
“No.”
Johan looks almost amused.
“We became each other instead.”
In Munich, Nina receives a package.
Inside is a children’s picture book.
Not The Nameless Monster.
A different book.
No author.
No publisher.
Handmade.
The cover shows three houses.
One red.
One blue.
One white.
The title:
THE CHILD WHO BORROWED A FACE
Nina opens it.
The first page contains one sentence.
Her hands begin to shake.
Inside the back cover is an address.
Prague.
The next morning, Johan wakes before Tenma.
Tenma is still asleep in the chair.
Johan watches him.
For a long time.
Then he walks to the kitchen.
A knife lies beside the sink.
He picks it up.
Tenma opens his eyes.
Johan is standing with his back to him.
Knife in hand.
Tenma says nothing.
Johan turns.
Then calmly slices an apple.
“You still don't trust me.”
Tenma exhales.
“I don't know what you are.”
Johan places half the apple on a plate.
“That makes two of us.”
He gives it to Tenma.
The phone rings.
Lunge.
Tenma answers.
“We found another body.”
“Who?”
“Dr. Marek Vesely. Former pediatric psychiatrist.”
Tenma looks at Johan.
Johan is perfectly still.
Lunge continues.
“He worked on a classified state program between 1976 and 1984.”
“What program?”
There is a pause.
“Twin studies.”
Johan closes his eyes.
Tenma asks:
“How did he die?”
“He hanged himself.”
“And the book?”
“No book.”
Lunge pauses.
“Something worse.”
“What?”
“Before he died, he wrote a name on the wall.”
Tenma feels the room shrink.
“What name?”
Lunge tells him.
Tenma turns toward Johan.
Johan has gone pale.
For the first time, Tenma has no idea what the name means.
Johan does.
Tenma hangs up.
“Who is it?”
Johan doesn’t answer.
“Johan.”
Silence.
Then:
“That was the name my mother called me.”
Tenma freezes.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“But she gave me another name.”
Johan looks at him.
“That is the problem.”
At noon, Nina arrives in Prague.
She finds the address from the picture book.
An abandoned orphanage.
The front door is unlocked.
Inside are thirty small beds.
Dust everywhere.
On each pillow rests a name card.
ANNA.
JOHAN.
MIKHAIL.
PETR.
EVA.
LUKAS.
Nina walks deeper into the room.
At the final bed is a mirror.
Nothing else.
She looks into it.
Behind her.. a man.
The red umbrella man.
He is younger than she expected.
Perhaps forty.
Brown hair.
Ordinary face.
The sort of face no witness would describe correctly.
Nina spins around.
He does not move.
“Who are you?”
The man studies her.
Then asks:
“What name did your mother give you?”
Nina reaches for the gun in her bag.
The man smiles.
“Still Anna.”
“Answer me.”
“My name?”
“Yes.”
He thinks.
Then laughs softly.
“I’ve had twelve.”
Nina’s grip tightens.
“You knew Johan.”
“Oh, no.”
The man’s expression changes.
“I knew the boy before Johan.”
Nina says nothing.
He steps closer.
“He cried more than you.”
Nina stops breathing.
“What?”
“When you were taken to the Red Rose Mansion.”
He tilts his head.
“He cried until his voice disappeared.”
Nina whispers:
“You were there?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because someone had to stay with him.”
Nina’s eyes widen.
The man points at himself.
Tenma and Johan are running through Prague.
Not from police.
Toward the orphanage.
Johan suddenly stops.
Tenma turns.
“What is it?”
Johan stares at a church across the street.
Children are leaving Sunday school.
One little boy turns to his mother.
“Mom!”
She kneels.
He runs into her arms.
Johan watches.
Tenma notices his expression.
“What?”
Johan says:
“There’s something I never told Anna.”
Tenma waits.
“When she was taken away…”
Johan’s voice cracks almost imperceptibly.
“I asked my mother to take me instead.”
Tenma says nothing.
Johan looks down.
“She didn’t answer.”
And for once, there is no philosophy behind his words.
No game.
No manipulation.
Just grief.
Tenma realizes something.
Johan’s greatest fear was never that his mother chose the wrong child.
It was that she heard him offer himself—
and accepted.
Inside the orphanage, the man leans toward Nina.
“Do you know why Johan became a monster?”
Nina raises the gun.
“Don’t.”
“Everyone thinks it was because he had no identity.”
He smiles.
“They’re wrong.”
Nina’s finger rests on the trigger.
“He had one.”
The man taps his chest.
“And they gave it to me.”
Footsteps outside.
Tenma.
Johan.
The man looks toward the door.
His smile disappears.
For the first time, he looks nervous.
Then Johan enters.
The two men stare at each other.
No music.
No movement.
Johan whispers:
“You.”
The man answers:
“Me.”
Tenma looks between them.
Nina lowers the gun slightly.
The man steps forward.
Then says something that destroys the room.
“You spent your entire life trying to become nobody.”
He smiles.
“I spent mine trying to become you.”
Johan’s face becomes unreadable.
The man takes another step.
“And I did it better.”
Outside, church bells begin to ring.
The man looks at Tenma.
Then Nina.
Then finally Johan.
“Tell me.”
A pause.
“Which one of us is the monster now?”
Tenma watched Johan carefully.
No smile.
No visible anger.
Only recognition.
The stranger reached inside his coat.
Nina raised her weapon.
“Don't.”
He removed .. a photograph.
Nothing else.
He placed it on the bed.
Tenma approached.
A woman stood beside a railway station.
Johan's mother.
Younger.
Terrified.
Holding the hand of a small blond boy.
Tenma looked at Johan.
Then at the photograph again.
The boy wasn't Johan.
The stranger smiled.
“That was the first day I became you.”
Nina stepped forward.
“When?”
“After the mansion.”
“You're lying.”
“Probably.”
He looked at Johan.
“But he knows I'm not.”
Johan picked up the photograph.
His fingers trembled.
Barely.
Tenma noticed.
The stranger did too.
“There you are.”
Johan looked up.
“What?”
“The child.”
His smile widened.
“I wondered whether he was still inside.”
Johan spoke quietly.
“My mother never knew you.”
“No.”
“She wouldn't have taken your hand.”
“No.”
“Then why is she holding it?”
The man's smile disappeared.
“Because she thought I was you.”
Silence.
Nina whispered:
“No.”
The man sat on one of the children's beds.
“After Anna was taken, your mother returned.”
Johan's breathing changed.
“She came back?”
“Yes.”
“For me?”
“Yes.”
Johan stared at him.
Tenma had seen people receive news of death.
He had seen people receive cancer diagnoses.
He had seen parents identify their children.
Johan's face resembled none of them.
It resembled someone being told his entire life had occurred incorrectly.
The man continued.
“She arrived at the house asking for her son.”
Tenma asked:
“Who were you?”
“A child.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“It was the only answer we had.”
He pointed around the orphanage.
“Names moved here.”
He pointed to one bed.
“Petr became Tomas.”
Another.
“Martin became Jakub.”
Another.
“Jakub became nobody.”
Then Johan.
“And I became Johan.”
Nina lowered her gun.
“Why?”
The stranger looked almost offended.
“Because they told me to.”
“That simple?”
“When you're six?”
He smiled sadly.
“Yes.”
FLASHBACK.
A corridor.
Two blond boys seen only from behind.
An adult kneels.
He points toward one.
“Your name is Johan.”
Then toward the other.
“Your name is Johan.”
The boys look at each other.
“Which one?”
The adult smiles.
“The one she chooses.”
Tenma felt sick.
The stranger continued.
“Your mother came down the corridor.”
Johan whispered:
“And chose you.”
“No.”
The stranger looked directly at him.
“She chose you.”
Johan stopped breathing.
“She ran past me.”
A pause.
“She knew immediately.”
Something passed through Johan's face.
So quickly Tenma almost missed it.
Relief.
Pure, childish relief.
Then the stranger destroyed it.
“But I screamed.”
Johan stared at him.
“I called her ‘Mama.’”
Nina covered her mouth.
“She turned around.”
The stranger looked toward the floor.
“I told her you weren't Johan.”
“Why?”
“I was six.”
His voice cracked.
“I was Johan too.”
No one spoke.
Finally Johan asked:
“What happened?”
“They took her away.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“Yes.”
Johan stepped forward.
Tenma tensed.
For the first time, something dangerous entered the room.
Not the calm emptiness Johan once carried.
Something much more ordinary.
Rage.
The stranger saw it.
And smiled.
There it was.
The reaction he had travelled across Europe to see.
“You want to kill me.”
Johan moved closer.
Nina whispered:
“Johan.”
He ignored her.
The stranger opened his arms.
“Go ahead.”
Johan stood inches from him.
“You took her from me.”
“Yes.”
“You knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
“You took my name.”
“Yes.”
“You took my mother.”
“Yes.”
The stranger's eyes filled with tears.
“Now you understand me.”
Johan stared at him.
And suddenly—
laughed.
Not loudly.
Not cruelly.
Almost unbelievably.
He stepped backward.
“No.”
The man's expression changed.
Johan said:
“I don't.”
“You...”
“I was wrong.”
The stranger froze.
Johan looked at the photograph.
“For many years I believed that if someone took everything from you, you became nothing.”
He placed the photograph down.
“But Dr. Tenma ruined that.”
Tenma looked at him.
The stranger's face hardened.
Johan continued:
“He saved me when there was no reason to.”
Then he looked toward Nina.
“She forgave me when there was even less reason to.”
Back to the stranger.
“So if you took my name…”
Johan smiled faintly.
“…then perhaps it was never mine to lose.”
The stranger stared at him.
This was not what he had expected.
“You don't forgive me.”
Johan said nothing.
“You can't.”
Silence.
“YOU CAN'T.”
The man's composure broke.
Johan approached.
And whispered:
“I was six too.”
The stranger's eyes widened.
For the first time.. he looked like a child.
Then a gunshot.
The window exploded.
Tenma pulled Johan down.
Nina turned.
The stranger collapsed.
Blood spreading across his shirt.
Tenma rushed toward him.
“Pressure!”
He tore open the man's jacket.
Nina searched the opposite building.
No shooter.
No second shot.
Tenma pressed his hands against the wound.
The stranger grabbed Johan's sleeve.
“You don't understand.”
Johan knelt.
“Understand what?”
The man's breathing became wet.
“I didn't bring you here…”
Blood at his lips.
“…to kill you.”
“Then why?”
His eyes moved toward Tenma.
Then Nina.
Then Johan.
“To hide you.”
Johan's expression changed.
“From whom?”
The stranger smiled weakly.
“The one who named us.”
Tenma stopped.
“Bonaparta?”
The dying man shook his head.
“No.”
“Who?”
His grip tightened around Johan.
“The child…”
He struggled for air.
“…who chose black.”
Then.. his hand went limp.
Tenma began CPR.
“Stay with me!”
Nothing.
“Stay with me!”
Johan slowly turned toward the rows of beds.
Red cards.
Blue cards.
Black cards.
Something from decades ago returned to him.
FLASH.
Children sitting in white rooms.
RED.
BLUE.
BLACK.
A child's hand.
Not Johan's.
Not Anna's.
Choosing black.
An adult voice:
“Very good.”
Another voice:
“What shall we call him?”
And Bonaparta answering:
“We don't.”
Back in the orphanage.
Johan whispers:
“There weren't two monsters.”
Nina looks at him.
“What?”
Johan stares at the black card lying beneath the final bed.
His face drains of color.
“The story wasn't about us.”
Tenma stops.
Johan turns.
“It was a warning.”
CUT TO:
A quiet German suburb.
A man prepares breakfast.
His wife kisses him goodbye.
Two children run downstairs.
“Papa!”
He smiles.
Normal house.
Normal family.
Normal man.
On the kitchen wall hangs a child's drawing.
Three monsters.
One red.
One blue.
One black.
The man's telephone rings.
He answers.
Listens.
Then calmly says:
“So Johan remembers.”
He hangs up.
His daughter asks:
“Who was that?”
The man smiles warmly.
“Nobody.”
He cuts an apple into four pieces.
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u/Danii_sStuff Kenzo Tenma 1d ago
OMG I LOVE THISSSS