"To understand why I'm here," Manjiro said, staring at the ceiling, "You have to understand that I wasn't born in the Taisho era. I wasn't even born in this universe."
As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to find a reason to live.
To you, I'm Manjiro Asakura, the Rumble Hashira. The guy who cracks jokes about suicide. But on Earth-22?
I was born into the rich Asakura family. We had ties to the Yakuza, with enough power to make the police look the other way. But money doesn't stop bullets, and it doesn't cure cancer. My dad died when I was three. My mom followed him soon after. It was just me, my Grandpa, my half-sister Emma, and my big brother, Shinichiro.
I grew up with my Grandpa, a martial arts master who taught me how to break bones, and my big brother, Shinichiro. Shinichiro... he was the best of us. He ran a gang called the Black Dragons. He couldn't throw a punch to save his life, but he had incredible charm. He wanted to create an era where delinquents could be heroes.
I wanted to be exactly like him. But I was built differently.
By the time I was twelve, I was a fighting genius. I was kicking guys twice my size. I had my crew; Draken, Baji, Mitsuya, Pah, Kazutora. We formed the Tokyo Manji Gang. Toman.
Those were the good years. Riding my motorcycle down the coastal highway, the wind in my hair, thinking we owned the world. They called me "The Invincible Mikey."
But the thing about being invincible is that everyone around you... isn't.
Shinichiro was killed over a bike shop robbery. My sister Emma died soon after. Grandpa passed away. Then my best friend Baji died in my arms during a huge fight. One by one, the lights went out.
I was fourteen at that time. I was drowning in sadness. But something else was wrong. I kept having these... blackouts. Moments where my mind would go blank, and I'd wake up with my hands covered in blood, having beaten someone half to death. I called it my "Dark Impulse." I thought I was losing my mind.
Then, when I was fifteen, I found it. The Book.
It was a classified artifact the government was trying to hide. When I touched it, my brain overloaded. I didn't just see words; I saw memories. Memories of timelines that didn't exist anymore.
My brother Shinichiro had messed with time to save me when I was a child, and the price he paid was my sanity.
I saw him leaping through time, over and over again. I saw him crying, bleeding, watching me die, watching me turn evil. He was rewriting history, trying to save me. Thousands of times.
The more he tried to save me, the more the darkness grew inside me. I became the center of all that pain.
And that's when I finally understood the "Dark Impulse."
It wasn't a mental illness. It was Karma. It was the universe trying to fix to correct a paradox.
I realized the truth: As long as I was with my friends... as long as I was "Mikey"... I would eventually kill them all.
So, I made a choice.
I disbanded the gang. I broke their hearts to save their lives. I pushed them all away. I told them to have a good life and never look for me again. I cut our ties to save them from myself.
But the Dark Impulse didn't go away. It became worse. It demanded violence. If I couldn't be a delinquent hero... I needed a place where monsters belonged.
That was when I turned sixteen. That was when "Mikey" died, and the "Demon Prodigy" was born.
I cut my hair. I traded my biker jacket for a black trench coat. I wrapped bandages around my right eye and my arms, not because I was injured, but because I couldn't stand to look at the world with both eyes anymore.And I walked right into the headquarters of the Port Mafia in Yokohama.
My mentor was the Boss, Ogai Mori. A doctor and a psychopath. He taught me that logic is the ultimate weapon. Under him, I became the youngest Executive in Mafia history.
And I was bored. God, I was so bored. I predicted everything. The betrayals, the assassinations, the politics.
That's why I started looking for a way out.
I searched for death constantly. I tried to drown myself, hang myself, poison myself. Not because I was sad. But because I was bored.
By the time I was sixteen, my list of crimes was longer than a dictionary. Extortion, assassination, racketeering. I walked through blood like it was rainwater.
But then... there was Odasaku.
Sakunosuke Oda. A low-level worker in the Mafia who refused to kill anyone. He just wanted to write books and eat curry. He was the one who put me on anime/manga. He was the only guy who saw me as just a lonely kid.
We used to drink at this place called Bar Lupin. We would just sit there and talk about anime while the ice melted in our whiskey. It was the only time I felt like a real human being.
But in my world? Good things never last.
Odasaku got caught in a war. It was a deadly trap planned by my own boss, Mori. I ran to save him. I used every ounce of my ability, every trick I knew. I ran faster than I ever had in my life.
But I was too late.
He died in my arms in a burning warehouse. And with his last breath, he looked me in the eye and said:
"Listen to me. You won't find it. You won't find a reason to live in the darkness and violence. If both sides are the same... become a good man. Save the weak. Protect the orphans. It won't make you happy... but it might make you a little less lonely."
That was the turning point.
I left the Mafia that night. I burned the black coat. I washed the blood off my hands, but the stains never really come out.
I spent two years in the light. Helping people. Solving cases.
That is when The Book synchronization reach 80% with me. It became a part of my mind and body, allowing me to summon it physically or mentally whenever I want.
It's a blank page. Whatever you write in it becomes reality. It's the ultimate cheat code. Most people would use it to become God. Me? I just didn't have any use for it. I thought about changing the past a few times, but I decided to respect history instead.
After fully fusing with The Book, I woke up by a river in this world, soaking wet. And a girl with pink and green hair was pulling me out of the water.
[End of Flashback]
[The Butterfly Mansion]
[Two Months Post-Muzan]
He let out a long breath, staring at his hands. "That's who I am. I'm not a hero. I'm a retired villain who came here to play hero because a dead friend told me to."
He looked at them, preparing himself for their rejection. "I've killed people. Hundreds of them. Not demons. Humans. I have a darkness in me that doesn't go away. The 'Dark Impulse.' That's why I can fight the way I do."
He lowered his head.
"So... if you want to leave... I get it. I wouldn't want to marry a monster either."
Silence stretched across the room.
Then, a warm hand covered his.
Manjiro looked up. Mitsuri was crying, but she wasn't looking at him with fear. She was looking at him with a deep heartbreak that matched his own.
"You were so lonely," she whispered, tears spilling onto her cheeks. "All that time... you were just a little boy who lost his big brother. You were waiting for someone to save you."
She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. "I don't care about the Mafia! I don't care about the Book! You saved me! You told me my hair was beautiful! You saved the Master! You saved everyone! You're a good man, Manjiro-kun! Odasaku-san was right!"
Manjiro felt a heavy lump form in his throat.
Shinobu sighed. "You truly are a fool," she said.
Manjiro looked at her.
"Do you think we are saints, Manjiro?" she asked. She reached out to gently brush the hair from his forehead. "I poisoned demons with wisteria. I smiled while I carved them apart. I have spent years fueled by nothing but anger and the desire for revenge. We all have blood on our hands."
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"You chose to leave the darkness," Shinobu said firmly. "You chose to save us. That is the only truth that matters to me. Besides..."
She smirked, giving him that dangerous, beautiful butterfly smile.
"So that's why you carry yourself that way… I understand now."
Her eyes soften.
"You don't have to pretend with me. Whatever you were… whatever you've done… I chose you knowing there was more beneath that smile."
Manjiro blinked. Then, he let out a laugh.
"You two are crazy," Manjiro murmured.
"We are marrying you," Shinobu replied. "Obviously, our sanity is questionable."
Manjiro closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the two women who anchored him to this reality.
"There's one more thing," Manjiro said after a moment. "The Book."
Mitsuri pulled back slightly. "What do you mean?"
Manjiro looked at them, his eyes serious.
"This world... it's safe now. But there are other worlds out there. Other places where people are crying out for help. Other stories that will end in tragedy unless someone steps in."
He squeezed their hands.
"I am never going to leave you. Never again. But... if you wanted to... we could go together. We could be travelers. We could save people in a thousand different lives."
He paused.
"Or... we can stay right here. Grow old. Eat mochi. Raise kids. Die peacefully."
He looked at Mitsuri. He looked at Shinobu.
"The choice isn't just mine anymore. It's ours. What do you want to do?"
---