Nagano was burning, a city swallowed by flames, mist and smoke. From atop of Nelu, my ice bird baptized into a proper name, I could see the destruction. It looked like Damascus after the endless civil war, the streets filled with fire and corpses. That the Oblivion Syndicate could wreak such havoc in this short amount of time was both impressive and horrifying at the same time. Sure, I saw genocide before. But, it was from a work laptop screen, so you can't blame me for finding this situation so fucking... grotesque.
Buildings crashed, fire and smoke burned into the skyline as the screams of women and children filled the besieged city. I had Nelu fire a bunch of ice shots at whichever satanist I saw about to kill people from this distance. I shot, prolly killed, 10 of them. But 10 of them weren't going to stop the massacre.
Out there? It was hell. Was this how people in the Middle East felt when Hamas, Hezbollah, the IRGC or the IDF carried their terrorist attacks? Or when the United States dropped its missiles at civilians in the name of freedom? I can't stop those atrocities, as much as I'd love to, but if someone doesn't act, it'll all be the same. Nagano will become another Beirut, Japan another Gaza. I- no, we, have to do this.
"This is just horrible...", I heard Midorikawa cry from behind me. She gripped my waist tightly, burying her face against my back, as if to shield her eyes from the carnage.
I exhaled, my hands gripping Nelu's reins tighter. "We have neither the time, nor the luxury to look away."
Haruka leaned forward. "We can't just sit here. We have to do something," she said, the determination in her voice cutting through the haze. "Even if it's just small action, it'll save someone."
I nodded, already feeling the plan form in my head. "I've already thought about it. Nelu and I can cover a lot of ground from above. We can take out the worst of them, but it won't be enough unless we act."
Toujou-chan, sitting quietly behind me, ears twitching, gave a soft sigh. "We should wait for Buchou. She will know what to do. Acting alone could get us killed…"
I spun my head to look at her. "Wait? You really think waiting is an option while they're burning people alive?" My voice rose. "Do you know what happens when everyone waits for the 'proper authority' to show up? This." I gestured down at the streets engulfed in fire. "This is what happens!"
Haruka didn't argue — she only gave a curt nod, her focus already sharpening. "He's right," she said, almost quietly, but the conviction carried. "We can't wait. Not now. Not here."
Toujou shifted nervously, eyes downcast. "But—Buchou…"
"You can go back to your club, Koneko," I said, tightening my grip on Nelu's reins, ice forming along the tips of my fingers. "Me and Haruka can deal with this."
She flinched, her small frame tensing. "You'll get killed."
"Maybe," I admitted, scanning the streets below, calculating trajectories and paths, the city's ruins a deadly chessboard. "But at least I won't be standing here pretending that someone else's orders will make it right. Someone has to act. You may think I'm always bitter, angry at humanity... maybe I am, but it's only because I know we can do better."
The tension was thick, but Haruka's steady presence reminded me I wasn't entirely alone. Toujou stayed silent after that, ears flattened slightly — but she didn't move against us. Her initial defiance seemed to morph into quiet acceptance because of the weight of my argument.
Nelu's wings slashed against the smokey air, carrying us above the massacre below, ready to strike where the Oblivion Syndicate thought they could wreck terror.
Nagano down there looked like a photo from some forgotten war — smoke, glass, fire, bodies. My stomach turned the way it always did when the world stopped pretending it wasn't rotten at its core. On my work laptop screen, atrocities were statistics, cases. Up close, they're smell, heat and masses that stop being people and morph into numbers, casually labeled as casualties. That's who I couldn't stand to watch die. We're not numbers, we're free, Goodbye to Gravity sung before they perished in the Colectiv fire... and while those in their command centers might not see it that way, I did.
"Left alley, you take it," I said, voice low so only Haruka and Toujou heard. "Right flank — Toujou, you slide through the market's back. Center is that blasted square with the burned van. I'm overhead. I mark, you hit. Civilians first. Kill the shooters."
Haruka's grin was a blade in its own right, her yandere tendencies shining throughout her facial expression. "Let's dance."
Say less.
Toujou's ears twitched. She didn't say much. She never did. She just read the map in silence and moved when I gave the nod.
First, suppression. I aimed and Nelu answered. Ice bolts — tiny but pointed with the cleanest precision — punched through their defence lines, smacking into their rifles, stabbing into their necks. A choked cry, before their blood spilled as their bodies hit the floor. Ten, twelve, a couple more dead, the retaliation was gaining ground. I could guess those were once people. Just like it was obvious... that whoever reincarnated them ain't done it right. Clearly a quantity over quality case, but the absurdity of reincarnated devils using modern weaponry rubbed me off the wrong way.
"Haruka — now!" I barked. "Toujou — right, silent."
Haruka dove like a comet. She didn't bother with grace: ice and flame in her hands, boots smashing through car glass. She turned a pickup into a wall of twisted metal and frozen oil and then turned that into carnage. People sliding, tumbling, getting run over by their own momentum. Haruka laughed — a raw war laugh — and cut through the mess. Her movements were brutal, but fast. Deadly effective against the sea of cultists firing low tier devil magic at us.
Toujou was the exact opposite. Quiet. Precise. She disappeared between overturned stalls and showed up behind five guys like she'd always been their unavoidable death. A throat, a snap, and someone's nonsense stopped. Toujou was never one for theatrics, she just produced results. Like a killing machine, enforcing justice over the civilian murderers.
From up top, I made the streets unwalkable. Nelu's wingbeat sprayed a curtain of frost that caught tires and made traction a joke. Military vehicles, possibly stolen from Japanese army posts, were rendered useless under the ice bird's precise movements. Acting like a human militia was the Syndicate's weakness, and a military nerd like me knew exactly how to exploit that weakness.
We hammered them like Vietnam crushed American invaders on its soil. Narrowed the options so their numbers didn't matter. People flood toward noise — survivors, sirens, anything that looks salvageable. I used that. Haruka made a show, flash and scream and light. Toujou crept like a blade. They chased a prize and fell into the mouth I'd carved.
Nelu dove. Ice lances raked the center of their line. Blue light stabbing through the air like broken glass. I marked the loud man with the dented helmet — the radio-boy who thought his voice kept them together — and sent a lance through kneecap and radio alike. The sound the radio made when it died was childish and small. Orders chopped. For half a breath they looked like people again — confused and suddenly useless.
That's when it collapses. The lieutenants scream for order and get static back. Men start running. Running against frozen roads is hard. Running against ice-and-fire is harder. Haruka met the front like a riot and tore them into scrap. Toujou ghosted the rear, hands quick and efficient, leaving bodies falling like cut flowers, quiet and clean.
We carved corridors while we killed. "Left side! Low! Move!" I yelled. Haruka threw up low glazed walls — nasty, ugly things that stopped stray bullets and guided people into the schoolyard. Nelu beat smoke away just long enough to drop chilled air that kept embers from leaping. We hauled people to safety. A kid clung to me like I was a life preserver and smelled like burned hair and raw fear. Midorikawa made a sound and buried her head into my shoulder until I thought she'd never stop.
Toujou checked the alleys, eyes like knives. She dragged one bleeding man into a doorway and slapped cold on his wound. She doesn't do comfort. She does the necessary.
The market square was a chessboard and I was playing three moves ahead. We hit: suppress, deny, funnel, cut command, extract. We hit it again. We hit it until their formations were nothing but ragged groups. Leadership gone, they splinter. Splintered people die faster.
We found radios and charts and dirty notebooks — lists. I shoved one into my coat. Intelligence is a blade you keep for later. Names are seeds you twist when you want to make a wound grow.
You want to know how it looked? Picture ash in the air like snow and people crawling through it. Picture a truck on its side, smoke pouring like a bad dream. Picture Toujou — ears flat, face blank — dragging a man who'd been shouting orders and shoving him into silence. Picture Haruka standing in melted asphalt, hair stuck to her cheeks and laughing like she loved it. Picture me, hunched on Nelutu's back with a kid in my lap and blood on my glove.
We ran a sweep; we ran another. Each pass broke them more. Each time I picked out shooters, gunners, idiots with radios. I made them hesitate, made commanders shout and not be heard. A frightened unit is a useless unit. That's the math.
At one point a squad tried to rally under a banner by a burned van. The man leading them had a stupid grin like he was a god. I lined up the shot and Nelu nailed him between shoulder and neck with a lance that turned into a shard and settled like ice. He flopped. The rest looked at each other and then ran. Without that skull there was no spine.
Between hits we shepherded survivors. Haruka shoved them forward with a bark and a shove; Toujou moved quietly with a hand on a shoulder to keep them from bolting into a crossfire. Midorikawa cried once, quiet and small, and it made my hands shake. We kept moving.
We'd taken dozens. Not enough. But enough to stop the fever for now. The Syndicate stopped acting like an occupying force and started acting like looters who'd been given bad orders. That pause — that little gap of disbelief — is where you put the knife in.
By the time we hit the last sweep the market was chaos. Men tried to flee down alleys that suddenly turned into dead-ends of frosted glass. One tried to mount a bike and his wheels slipped, throwing him into a pile of burning tar. Haruka was already there, stomping like she wanted to crush a mosquito and she did. I watched Toujou move like someone who'd been sharpened on other people's suffering.
I grabbed another scrap of paper — a map, phone numbers, times. Names. Whoever thought they could bloom a cult and stay anonymous was a child. We were making grown-up messes. That paper went into my pocket. Promise: we will find those names later.
We were cleaning up the last of the clusters when the air shifted. Not a sound at first — just a different pressure, like the room had guessed someone important was coming. Haruka looked up. Toujou did the same. Midorikawa clung to my sleeve like a lifeline.
We'd already made their day bad. They came in and finished what we'd started but in the kind of beautiful, theatrical way only noble devils do. No surprise. That's what royalty does: it comes late and takes credit. I didn't care. We'd saved kids, shoved bodies out of the way, and hauled off what we could. That was real. Credit is for speeches.
Before they landed, before any of that, the market got a seconds-long quiet. It's the kind of silence after a punch where everyone tastes blood. I could hear my heart, the kid breathing against me, the soft scrape of ash. Toujou's tail flicked. Haruka's grin had gone thin. We've done it. We've bought the city some room to breathe... or so I thought.
We were clearing the last corridor. Haruka had shoved three families into a doorway we'd iced over to look like cover; Toujou was already dragging the old man with the blown arm toward the schoolyard. I had a kid's hand in mine one second, the next I'd tossed him across to a teacher with a scream. It was a messy, fucked up rhytm. but it worked — one-two, shove, cover, move. We'd bought enough of a gap to push people into safety and killed enough fuckers to make sure they won't be a threat to civilian lives anymore, at least not for now.
Then one of the bastards, located on the fourth floor of a building with broken windows, looked up and saw us.
"Shoot the bird", yelled the nutjob, prolly one of their lieutenants. "It takes away their aerial superiority"
Oh, no, you didn't. Fuck. I had to run — too late.
An arrow drenched in fire, landing on the right wing. Then another, shooting the left wing. Then, before I knew it, them bastards were firing arrows at my boy like Iran fired missiles on Tel Aviv during the Twelve Day War. Nelu, for his part, could only let out a sharp shriek, and I felt his pain like it was my own, left and right shoulder aching despite not taking a hit myself.
Seriously, how much more equipped can these fuckers be? I already took down their shooters and neutralized their riffle capabilities, yet they still had archers? They were basically a war machine, at this point.
Yet, I didn't have the time to think about all that. Exhausted, Nelu dissolved into a blue light that went right back into my Sacred Gear. As for me, I was left frozen mid-air, about to hit the ground any time soon. Fuck.
"Kokonoe-kun!!", I heard Haruka scream as she rushed to my aid. As embarrassing as it is to admit, she caught me in her arms.
"What would you do without me, huh?~", she teased lightly, but the effort of catching a falling me left her panting, exhausted as she put me down on the ground.
"Honestly, without you, I'd prolly be dead", I chuckled dryly.
Simultaneously, Midorikawa was caught by Toujou-chan, and they appeared beside us. Great, the shock team was now complete.
"Thank you, umm...", Midorikawa breathed.
"You can call me Koneko", Toujou-chan answered.
"Koneko-chan", she reaffirmed, almost happily.
Such a nice girl bonding moment... but we're being kinda circled around here? From a distance, I could see the leftover cultists regrouping, and they were closing in on us. And you didn't need a deep outlook to see none of us were in a state where we could put up a fight.
"Sorry to interrupt, but... looks like we got some trouble", I said, pointing at the approaching threat.
The leftovers finished regrouping, and were marching on us. Dying in a city choked in smoke and ash had a poetic ring to it, I found myself pondering an instrusive thought. The civilians were safe, though — I guess that's what truly mattered. The survivors were out of reach, hidden behind barricades and makeshift cover. That alone made me steel myself for a one last stand, as a fiber of defiance inside me refused to die at the hands of these trash mobs without putting up a fight.
"We've bought all the time we can," I muttered, scanning the advancing threat. Haruka's eyes glinted, Toujou-chan's ears twitched, and Midorikawa clutched my sleeve tighter. There was no turning back.
"One last stand, then," I said.
The cultists charged, frenzied by the smell of fresh blood, but we moved as one. Haruka charged forward with a roar, ice and blizzard tearing through the nearest attackers.
I was about to take a shot, when I sensed a shot aimed straight at Toujou-chan, who was had her fists full with a cultist's face.
My body moved on its own and, before I knew it, I took the hit meant for her. A sharp pain hit my shoulder. A small cut, but deep enough to bleed. Toujou froze, her ears flicking back, and a faint blush crept over her cheeks.
"You okay…?" she whispered, voice tight.
"Yeah," I grunted, masking the sting. "Focus on the fight."
She blinked, flustered, and ducked behind cover, while the rest of us pressed the attack, carving a narrow corridor through the chaos. The cultists were relentless, but so were we — and the line had been drawn.
But the more we fought, the more reality started to sink in: we couldn't hold them off forever. Each clash chipped away at our strength, and the tide kept pressing closer, heavier, like the city itself was collapsing on us. Slowly, inevitably, we were being driven into a corner.
I stole a glance at my company — Haruka panting, her hands trembling; Toujou barely standing, looking every bit like a bloodstained, zombie loli; and Midorikawa, her fear long gone, replaced by a blank, almost peaceful stare — like she'd already accepted whatever came next.
And despite the inevitable end creeping in, a warmth spread through the ache in my chest.
Thank you, you three... for putting up with me until the bitter end.
And then, just as I thought that, a demonic circle flared open before us. I muttered a Romanian curse under my breath — perfect timing... Rias's colors — red and dark — cracked the horizon. Beside her, Akeno descended with that calm cruelty of hers, the smirk not quite hiding her sadistic glee as her lightning reduced the last of the cultists to ashes on the bloody ground. Behind them came Issei, Asia, Kiba — the whole damn squad.
Poor Asia was the first to move. Tears welled up in her eyes the moment she took in the scene — the bodies, the smoke, the blood, all in 4K. Without a word, she broke into a run, her healing light already flickering in her hands. Girlie had no idea who to patch up first — but girl power always wins, so naturally, she went straight for Toujou-chan, the one she's closest to. Me and Haruka sustained worse damage, by the way, but meh. I'll just reject the healing when it's my turn cause I'm an asshole.
Issei made an awkward attempt to break the silence. "So... eh, what happened here?"
"I don't know, what does it look like to you?", I fired back.
Fucking idiot.
His expression darkened. "Who did this? Buchou only told us we have a special mission..."
Of course she didn't fucking tell you anything. Why am I not surprised?
I exhaled sharply. "They call themselves the Oblivion Syndicate," I said, irritation leaking into my tone, though not really aimed at the perv this time. "At first, we thought it was a serial killer case, some Jeffrey Dahmer type shit. Then surprise, surprise — it turned out to be a full-blown militia of Satanists."
What I didn't say was that their ambush on Nagano made Hamas' October 7th look like a warm-up. No one would believe me anyway. Not if I told them I'd seen it happen before, in dreams from the reality I died in. Past the point where I died.
Sounds absurd, right?
Thought so.
You know what... I don't think I'm even sane anymore.
Then again... was I ever?
Before I could spiral into my own madness, I was broken out of my stupor by the voice I wanted to hear the least.
"Kokonoe," she began, "what the hell do you think you're doing? Acting alone, endangering civilians, revealing devil activity to the human world…"
"Are you fucking retarded?", I snapped back, not believing what I heard. "Endangering civilians? I was trying to save them while you were goofing around. Was I supposed to wait for you? Like Somalia waited for UN to stop its civil war or like Japan waited for America to drop the bomb on Hiroshima?"
"How dare you talk like that to Buchou!", Issei barked in the background. I ignored him, dogs gon be dogs.
Haruka's fists clenched. "He's right. You think waiting for politics to finish matters when people are burning alive? Screw that."
Toujou-chan stayed quiet, her somber expression betraying internal conflict. As if she wanted to side with that woman, but couldn't. Finally, she muttered, "If he hadn't acted… more would've died."
Midorikawa stepped closer, voice trembling but firm. "Thank you… for saving us." Her small hand brushed mine, almost imperceptibly, but enough to make my chest tighten.
Rias' eyes burned, and before anyone could blink, she slapped me. I felt the heat against my cheek, and it fucking hurt, but the slap itself send jolts of adrenaline through my body.
"You… can't just—" she started, but I didn't give her a chance to finish.
"Fuck you," I muttered, and with a swift motion, I kicked her square in the stomach. She went flying back, slammed into a wall, and groaned, stunned.
But I wasn't done.
"You think I owe you something? You think I wanted to be brought back to life?" I barked, my voice cracking somewhere between fury and grief. "Fuck no. I've been wanting to die ever since I was old enough to want anything."
Rias, brushing dust off her clothes, froze mid‑movement. My words stopped her cold.
"I didn't ask for any of this," I continued, pacing toward her, words spilling faster than I could censor them. "I woke up in a world that wasn't mine and everyone acted like it was the greatest gift. But I went along with it anyway. You wanna know why? It's not because I loved being some demon freak. It's not because I'm a pushover. It's because I thought—just maybe—you were giving me something I'd been starving for my whole damn life."
I stopped. My fists were trembling.
"Friends. A place to belong. To matter." My voice dropped to a rasp. "I'm fucking lonely. I've always been lonely. I hide it behind rage, bitterness, hating humanity—whatever the hell keeps people from seeing the truth. But I loved the illusion that I could have friends..."
I paused for dramatic effect, letting them take in my words. Kokonoe Takashi. Mihai Gradinaru. The weakling. Finally making his desperate plea for help.
"But isn't it all just a fucking illusion?"
And then I laughed. My own laughter ringing in my ears like it was coming from some bluetooth speakers rather than my own mouth.
Something wet fell on my cheeks...
Tears?
What the fuck?...
Am I crying?
Yeah, I guess I am...
I couldn't even be bothered to wipe my tears, though. The audience was frozen in place, as if they couldn't believe whay they were seeing. No one dared to move. And then...
Haruka touched my left cheek, the one that Rias slapped. She didn't say anything at first. Just looked at me with glazed eyes, trembling lips — like she was holding back her own storm. Then, quietly, she said:
"I told you before, didn't I? If you'll be mine, and I'll be yours… we'll never be lonely again."
Her voice cracked halfway through. But she didn't pull her hand away.
"I meant it," she whispered.
I took a deep breath, relief and her warmth washing over me. "If you're fine with someone like me..."
Haruka just laughed softly, like I said the dumbest thing in the world. "What do you mean, someone like you, silly?~ There is no one else I'd rather have."
And, just like that, a flicker of warmth broke through the pain.
Then a hand tugged at my shirt. I turned to see Toujou, eyes downcast, her usual stoic expression softened by something unspoken.
"Senpai… I didn't realize… you're not the only one who feels like that."
"Toujou-chan… even you?"
She lifted her gaze just slightly. "Call me Koneko, Senpai."
"Roger that, Koneko.", I said.
In that moment, I swear I could see a faint smile forming on her lips.
And finally, while my attention was still on Tou— I mean, Koneko— I felt someone grab me and pull me into a hug. Midorikawa. Tears streaming down her cheeks, voice cracking as she held me tight.
"You're not alone, you idiot!!" she sobbed. "Aren't we already friends?"
"Yeah," I breathed. "We are."
"Then you're not alooone," she wailed, tightening her grip. "I'm right here for youuu!"
I chuckled drily. Maybe I found that somewhere I belong.
Haruka, Koneko, Midorikawa — all standing with me, while the rest of Rias' peerage looked like statues. Blank. Unmoved. Like the whole thing was happening on some stage they weren't part of.
Then, Rias' voice cut through the air.
"Enough."
She stepped forward, her expression a mask of composure cracking at the edges. Crimson magic flared in her hands, humming like a blade.
"Midorikawa Suzuka… you're human. You've seen too much. You know what that means."
Haruka froze. "Wait—Rias, no!"
Rias didn't even glance at her. "I'll erase her memories. It's for her own good."
"No." Haruka stepped in front of Midori, trembling but standing firm. "She's one of us now."
"She is not one of us," Rias snapped. "She's human — fragile — she doesn't belong in our world."
Koneko's voice was quiet, but sharp enough to cut glass. "That's not protection, Buchou... That's control."
Rias' eyes narrowed, her aura pulsing, red light crawling up her arm. "You'd all defy me? For her?"
That's when I moved forward. My heartbeat felt like a drum in my ears.
"Rias," I said, "stop. You're going too far."
Her glare hit me like a wall. "Do you think you can order me around, Kokonoe? You forget who saved you."
I stared right back. "No. I remember exactly who tried to own me."
Rias stepped forward, her tone sharp again. "Enough sentimentality. She's human. She's seen too much. I'll erase her memories and send her home."
"No!" Midorikawa's voice cracked. She backed away, clutching her own arms as if she could hold herself together. "Please don't— you don't understand! I… I can't lose them again!"
Her eyes were wide, desperate.
"This isn't the first time," she said, breath shaking. "I remember things— people— feelings that don't make sense. I'm a reincarnate… please, I don't want to forget again."
Everyone froze. The air went still. My breath own breath caught, as I was absorbing the shock of the revelation myself. Another life…? She's a reincarnate like me, then? What were the odds?...
Yeah, this is not the time to ponder these things. I gotta stop the red-haired bitch.
Rias blinked once, twice—then hardened her expression. "That's impossible. You're human. Whatever you think you remember is—"
"Bullshit," I cut in. "She knows what she's saying."
"Out of my way, Kokonoe." Rias raised her hand, crimson aura flaring around her palm. "This is for her own good."
"Like hell it is!" Haruka snapped, stepping beside me. "She's terrified—can't you see that?!"
"You wanna get sent flying into a wall again?", I smirked, letting my threat hang.
My foot was still poised in mid-air, ready to escalate, when a hand gripped my arm — firm, unyielding, yet almost teasing.
"Now, now, Kokonoe," Akeno purred, her usual playful lilt clashing with the seriousness in her eyes. "Do you really want to do that here? In front of all of them?"
I froze, feeling the tension in her grip. She didn't try to restrain me fully — just enough to remind me there were limits. Limits that, surprisingly, even I recognized.
"She's going to learn a lesson your way, but I'm not letting this turn into a bloodbath," Akeno added, her smirk teasing but sharp as a blade. "Control yourself… for now."
Like hell I would. My first instinct was to summon Nelu, though I wasn't sure my ice familiar was completely healed.
Before I could spit back a reply, Haruka acted. Icicles shot from her fingertips, striking Akeno's shoulder with enough force to stagger her back. The grip on me vanished.
Freedom. I flexed my arm, smirking. "Thanks, Haruka."
Akeno's eyes narrowed, but she didn't advance again immediately — the rest of the peerage, everyone except Koneko and Asia, hovered in the background, ready to jump in at the first sign of trouble.
In the meanwhile, Rias ignored what was happening, focus on Midorikawa. The spell circle bloomed, red sigils spinning in the air as she muttered the incantation. The light grew brighter, hum louder— then, it shattered.
A pulse of energy burst out from Midorikawa herself, throwing sparks across the floor. The sigils flickered once, cracked, and shattered into gold dust that scattered across the floor.
"What—?" Rias stammered, her concentration breaking.
I laughed audibly, a mockery directed at Rias's authority. Fuck you, bitch.
The ORC members were too shocked to speak or do anything, they just stayed there like a bunch of NPCs.
I glanced at Midorikawa. There was something about her tone, that sadness, that quiet certainty, hit me in a place I hadn't felt in years. Her face blurred for a moment, overlapping with someone I used to know.
Could it be…? No. That's impossible. She died. She died.
But then she looked at me and I saw it. The faintest flicker of recognition. Her lips parted, trembling.
"I don't remember everything," she said softly. "But I know this isn't the first time we've met."
The world went silent around us.
Even Rias stopped breathing for a second.
Haruka glanced between us. "Kokonoe… what is she talking about?"
I couldn't answer.
Because in that moment, staring into those same eyes I'd watched fade behind a hospital window years ago, I wasn't sure if I was standing in the present anymore — or staring into the ghost of my past.
And maybe that's when I realized…
some ghosts never really die.
I chuckled at the thought. If she's a ghost, then what am I? Anyway, I will have to confirm it myself with her, but that could wait, for now.
For now, we get the fuck out of here.
I whistled, and Nelu manifested from my Sacred Gear. Eyes sharp, claws cracking the ground under him, ice wings ready to get us here.
"Haruka, Midorikawa, let's get outta here before she finds another reason to kill me.", I laughed.
The girls followed me, and we took off. Bound by her loyalty, Koneko stayed behind, watching Haruka and Midorikawa cling to me as we soared above the ruins of Nagano. Her usual stoic expression barely flickered, but her sharp eyes followed every movement.
A faint sigh escaped her. She stepped back, making sure the rest of the peerage stayed clear, and muttered under her breath:
"Senpai… be careful."
I winked at her, briefly, before Nelu's wings carried us in the horizon.
(scene break)
And now, I was back in my room. Just me and Midorikawa. I told Haruka that we needed to talk, alone, and she agreed to give us some space. Oh, yeah, since their homes in Nagano were destroyed in the battle, Haruka and Midorikawa were staying with me for the time being. Mom was overjoyed to have them over. Haruka was in the kitchen, helping with dinner.
I closed the door behind us and leaned against it, letting out a slow breath. The massacre of Nagano, the fights, the rage—it all felt distant now, almost like a lifetime away. Only Midorikawa's presence mattered in this very moment.
She shifted nervously, hands fidgeting at her sleeves, then looked up at me. "You wanted to talk, Kokonoe-kun?" Her voice was soft, almost fragile, but steady.
I nodded. "Yeah… I think we need to talk about… everything. But first of all, kumabear with the heart emojis, from that Shadow Realm chatroom... that was you, wasn't it?"
Her eyes lit up with a flicker of recognition. "Yeah, that's me... Umm, I had a feeling I knew you, but I wasn't sure. Shadow, is that you?"
I swallowed. "Yeah. You remember, don't you?"
Her lips curved slightly. "I remember everything." She took a step closer. "Our chats, our talks, the nights I—" She paused, shivering slightly. "You were always there. I… I never forgot. Not truly. Even when I died."
My chest tightened. I recalled every message, from my confession, to our late night talks, to the moment of her death. Everything came back to me in a flash, like those you see in cartoons when a character remembers the most important memories of their life.
A soft laugh escaped her. "I've remembered it every day. I always wondered if you'd ever know it was me again."
I smiled, a little breathless. "So… you really are her. The same one I used to talk to in another life."
"Yes," she said, voice firm now. "I am. And I remembered you the moment I woke up."
I reached for her hand, brushing it gently. "Then maybe… some part of that life didn't die with us. Maybe it brought us here… to this moment."
She tilted her head, eyes bright, almost teasing. "Maybe it did."
I stepped closer, lifting my other hand to her cheek. Her eyes softened, searching mine, and for a moment, all the fear and uncertainty from earlier melted away.
"We'll figure this out… together," I whispered.
Her lips met mine in a soft, sure kiss. This time there was no hesitation—no fragments of memory to piece together—just recognition, connection, and the undeniable proof that our lives were linked across lifetimes.
When we pulled back, foreheads pressed together, she whispered, "Together."
I pressed another kiss to her temple, smiling genuinely. "Together," I echoed.
For the first time in forever, it felt like nothing else mattered. It was just us.
Meanwhile, in a secluded location...
The hideout was dark, lit only by a small flame burning in a torch, and a huge screen showing movements, operations, and success rate. The Oblivion Syndicate's command figures were gathered around the screen, examining, analyzing. Holographic maps floated in the air, blinking indicators of prior strikes, surviving targets, and active threats. The burn of their failed campaign in Nagano stung, the screen displaying over 1200 casualties. Their whole contingent, deployed to take over the city, was destroyed by one high school boy. Outrage filled the room.
A figure leaned over the display, hood shadowing their face. "Kokonoe Takashi," they muttered, voice low, almost reverent in its malice. "He interfered in Nagano."
Another operative, gloved hands folded, replied, "Motherfucker engaged directly. Civilians were rescued, our assets were compromised. The incident could have been prevented."
The first figure's fingers slammed his fist on the table, anger betraying the calm tone he wanted to assess. "He will be eliminated. Prepare the operatives. Target priority: highest. Do not fail."
A cold hum filled the room as a series of names scrolled across a holo-screen, Kokonoe Takashi at the top. Subordinates nodded without a word, their faces masks of resolve.
Outside the compound, the wind carried the faint scent of ash from the city below. Somewhere, a new plan was forming — one that would bring the Syndicate's wrath directly to the man who had dared to defy them, and their slaughter in Nagano.