Chapter 12: GAME OVER

Let me think of something happy.

Even if it feels like tempting fate to imagine what comes after this battle.

At the end of the day, my path is clear. It always has been.

I just have to win. That’s all. Nothing complicated.

If I win, the world is saved.

Save the Commander. Save Misora of the Heavens. Save Sabaki.

Erase my past mistakes. Fulfill my responsibilities. And then—

—I’ll leave the Army for good.

They might erase all my supernatural-related memories for confidentiality, but I don’t care.

I don’t even need the memories of my past life anymore.

I never needed them to begin with.

The memories of when I was a boy? They’re nothing but a hindrance.

If I—Tokizami Arishiro—can just be a girl who loves him with all her heart, then I don’t need anything else.

He’s real. Truly real.

It doesn’t matter if no one else believes it. I know he is.

As long as he’s here—

As long as we can go back to school together, knowing nothing, remembering nothing—that’s enough.

Yeah. Once this is over, let’s walk to school together every morning.

I’ll go wake him up—after all, I’m his childhood friend. I’ll make breakfast, walk with him to school, exchange glances during class, eat lunch together.

What about after school?

I’ve never joined a club, but if he wants to, I’ll join too. If he doesn’t, that’s fine. Mornings might be too rushed, but on the way home—maybe we could hold hands…

Wait. Would that be weird if we’re not dating?

Then I’ll have to confess. Start from there.

He’s so incredible that it might not be easy, but still—I’ll try. I’ll do my best.

Because walking beside him, fingers intertwined as lovers—

I think that would make me happier than anything.

"Hah…! Ugh…! Aah…!!"

"I thought your wounds were healing, but I suppose regenerating a lost arm is impossible. But don’t worry—there are plenty of people who live fulfilling lives with just one arm. No matter how severe the injury or illness, as long as you don’t give up, anyone can find happiness."

I have to think like this—or else I’ll break.

This isn’t just about bandages anymore.

Tears blur my vision as I unleash a barrage of attacks.

It hurts. It hurts so much.

This is the worst damage I’ve ever taken.

So my attacks should be stronger than ever—

"Ah, hello? Sorry, I’m a bit busy at the moment. Yes, yes, it’s nothing serious. Oh? Alisa and Maina are doing well? Of course they are, Kairi. Your happiness is my top priority—ah, could you please be quiet? I’m on the phone."

—but they’re swatted aside. Casually.

It’s not even his own power. Overdose’s offensive and annihilation capabilities are monstrous, but his actual durability and vitality? Not impressive.

"Take—THIS!!"

"Oops."

The moment I go for the attack, Nishizaki-san’s surprise strike throws me off balance, leaving me wide open.

"DAMAGE BULLET—!"

From the severed stump of my arm, a crimson wave of slashing energy fires like a cannon shell.

Maximum output. Though I call it a slash, the spiraling, layered force is closer to a drill.

A gaping hole opens in Overdose’s chest—a fatal wound.

In the game, he’d have top-tier boss equipment.

But not in this timeline.

But he remained utterly unfazed.

"Exemplary Demon, Demonicus."
"Understood. Who shall it be?"
"Alisa—no, it's only been a year since I took her in. The emotional weight isn't quite enough. Let's go with Kairi."
"Acknowledged."

From the other end of the phone—a collapse.

The confused screams of children.

Then—the gaping hole in Overdose’s chest vanished.

Healed.

In the same motion, a burst of blue light sent Nishizaki—already battered—flying.

"Ah… she’d just turned ten. With all the older orphans gone, she was so determined to take care of the younger ones... Now I’ll never get to make her favorite hamburger steak again."

"Ugh—AAAH—!"

With all my strength—even with just one arm—I swung the massive box cutter.

Overdose’s weapon—worn down from constant use over the past two days—shattered.

It tore through the half-platinized building, tumbling end over end.

And where it landed—

A mother and daughter.

Mid-evacuation.

"RUN—!"

A snap of his fingers.

Monsters swarmed.

No escape.

The mother shielded her daughter, crouching in place.

"P-please…! I’ll do anything, just spare my daughter—!"
"Such beautiful devotion. Is there any sight more pure? My heart swells with the desire to never lose such sacred souls. Truly, this emotion is beyond measure—yes, this will suffice as emotional weight. Exemplary Demon, Demonicus."
"Acknowledged."

A scream.

The sound of every bone in her body—all 206—snapping at once.

What emerged was a greatsword—decorated with human skin, forged from blood and flesh.

A weapon that, in-game, would rank among the strongest endgame gear.

The nun swung it at me.

"Guh—UUUUGH…!!"

No. No no no.

This is too much. I can't.

The girl is crying.

A single swing. A slash infused with the pale-blue radiance of nuclear fusion.

I materialized a tsunami of box cutters—only for them to be split apart like the sea itself.

A dull, heavy thud.

Then—the delayed explosion.

The blast tore through the center of my body.

Yet it felt distant.

Like it was happening somewhere far away.

A sensation of floating. The platinum-stained scenery rushing past below.

I slammed into a platinized skyscraper, the impact spiderwebbing the wall.

Sliding down, leaving a smear of blood, before crashing to the ground.

Like a toy in the hands of a violent child.

"Well, the city's transformation should be finishing up soon. The depletion of the 'Remnants' is accelerating… You may go all out now, Overdose."

"Please don’t call them 'Remnants,' Exemplary Demon Demonicus. Though, with no further interference expected, I suppose we can proceed. The aid fund for conflict zones, the treatment support for incurable diseases, the groundbreaking discovery in artificial panacea synthesis, and the sealing of three disaster-class entities—"

"Acknowledged."

The pale-blue glow swelled.

The sheer magnitude of power defied comprehension.

Just how much had he sacrificed—with that same calm expression?

"............"

I try to think of something happy.

Even if imagining after this battle is nothing but a death flag.

I imagine it again—

Going out with him.

Letting him pat my head.

Eating meals together.

Leaning against him, acting spoiled.

Listening to the same music.

Hearing him call me cute.

Growing even closer—being with him, more and more and more and more—

"————"

But even that.

I don’t need it anymore.

As long as he is here, I don’t need anything else.

Even if I die—as long as he lives, that’s enough.

Death is nothing. I’ve already experienced it once.

I accept the incoming strike.

Not as an end.

But as a beginning.

A fatal wound.

I turn it into an attack.

A counterattack with my entire being.

From my right hand, a blade extends—burning like life itself, a vivid rose-red radiance.

The swing of that blade splits heaven and earth.

A crimson brilliance explodes outward.

The ground trembles like an earthquake.

A desperate slash, launched with the thought that maybe, just maybe, it could kill him instantly—

But.

"Yet more innocent children have been sacrificed. Tell me—what do you think a life is worth?"

It doesn’t work.

"…Why… why are you…?! Don’t fuck with me! If you care about lives so much, then stop—just STOP!"
"Precisely because I care, I must strive to improve this world. Reality is cruel—that is all the more reason to push forward with every effort. That is my humble, sincere wish."

Overdose keeps spouting nonsense.

Words that sound reasonable but mean nothing.

Maybe, in his twisted logic, it makes sense.

But no sane person could ever understand.

Either way, talking was never an option.

This is just a rehash of the first time.

I’m trying so hard.

I’m finally staking my life.

But that’s still not enough.

Because in this world, everyone stakes their life like it’s nothing.

And yet—this is all I can do.

The sheer volume of “price” Overdose has stockpiled is monstrous.

No matter how much I fight, it won’t matter unless I sever his contract with the Exemplary Demon, Demonicus.

I don’t know what to do.

Logically, there’s no last-minute miracle plan.

The wounds are deep.

My healing can’t keep up.

At this rate—I’ll die.

I’ll really die.

—And that terrifies me.

I’m afraid of death.

The idea that "I’ve done it before, so I can endure it" is a lie.

All that experience taught me is that it’s unbearable.

Knowing the **darkness, the pain, the despair—**that’s exactly why I can’t endure it.

I don’t want to die here.

I don’t want to die like this.

I want to be happy.

I want to believe my life was worth something.

I want someone to save me.

"…!"

Even though I’ve staked my life.

Even now.

I still—

—If this world has a protagonist, I wish they’d come here, right now.

Then, even if I die here, it’d be okay.

Even if I’m just some nameless sacrifice, buying time to save the world—

That’d be enough.

In my fading consciousness, just for a moment—

I know you’re not just a character in a story.

But still—

If you were someone special, someone who could save this world—

That’s what I wished for.

"—————"

And then—

Sabaki was standing in front of me.

"…Huh…?"

Why?

I erased his memories.

There's no reason for him to be here.

Yet there he stands—pale-faced, unsteady, blood soaking through his jacket from his wounded side—on the verge of collapse, but still standing.

"The 'Convenient Contract: Love King's Speake'…"

He raises a tattered, nearly used-up bundle of coupon-like tickets.

"I heard about it from Tokizami… The backup stash in the 'Army' facility you destroyed…"

The nun interrupts with a voice like spat blood.

"And what, pray tell, do you intend to do with that now? Even if you use it, who could possibly pay the price to reclaim this city, when nearly all of it has already been converted into 'Something of Value'—?"

"—Maybe not the city."

"But what if I claim ownership of all the 'price' you've stockpiled instead?"

His retort.

For just a moment, Overdose's eyes widen.

"You said you'd use 'Something of Value' to claim the entire world as your own. This platinum—this 'value'—might be worth more than the combined budgets of every advanced nation… But if I can just seal away your 'Remnants'—"

"True, if you prepared the proper price, you could still claim ownership. But you seem unaware of just how many lives are entrusted to me. Gathering that much 'value' would be—"

"Already here."

"Right under your feet."

The nun sighs, almost amused.

"As I said, this city—this 'Something of Value'—is mine."

"The elevator in the building on Second Street—input a hidden command, and it leads to an underground facility outside this city. You and your 'Exemplary Demon' have already converted parts of the outside world into 'Something of Value.'

This city—and yet not this city.

A distorted space linked through supernatural areas."

"—————Wha—"

This time, his eyes definitely widen.

For the first time—Overdose is speechless.

"Twenty-four other locations—every supernatural zone I know of—I adjusted them all last night to connect outside the city. Got jumped by one of your monsters in the process, but… during all this chaos, I stole the land deeds for the converted areas from a real estate office."

He tears them apart—and raises them.

"Convenient Contract: Love King's Speake"—a supernatural item that, under specific conditions and with the proper price, allows the user to temporarily claim ownership of a target, ignoring all laws, contracts, ethics, and procedures.

"Starting now, for a limited time, I'm taking ownership of everything Overdose possesses—except this city."

No reply.

Instead—pale-blue explosive light erupts from the nun’s palm.

Sabaki tries to block—but he’s too late.

The critical mass of blue-white light is unleashed toward him—

And misses.

"…Mag… net…!"

A beast of lightning erupts from Overdose's phone—a four-legged electromagnetic creature, snarling as it clamps down on his arm.

At the edge of my vision—Nishizaki, blown away earlier, grins through pain, clutching a communicator.

"Mag—net—ic PULSE—!!"

"—Interference—"

The blast scatters.

But in that split-second opening—

"Reproduction rate 3150%—Missile Materialization."

A meteor tears through the midday sky, crushing Overdose.

And riding that light—a single figure descends.

"—This is Star Chart, broadcasting live."

Long silver hair fluttering in the wind, wearing a stark-white hospital gown, her fierce expression belying years of being bedridden—

A striking girl speaks into the communicator.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, Commander. More importantly, you should be resting—aren’t you still in the ICU? Quit lying to the higher-ups about ‘needing to save the world’ and hoarding that panacea.

I’m not bailing you out later, got it?"

"Well, I guess this is pretty much over already."

She says it so casually, as if it were nothing.

And then—she turns to look at me.

Misora of the Heavens.

"Oh, hey, Tokizami-chan. Long time no—wait, no, not really, huh? You were always visiting me in the hospital."

"M-Misora… san…"

I’m happy. I want to apologize.

My emotions are a tangled mess—**incomprehensible—**and before I know it, tears spill out.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…! I’ve wanted to apologize this whole time, for what happened back then…!!"

"Why are you apologizing?"

She says it with a wry smile.

"Yeah, I’ve been wanting to say this too. Two hundred people, two hundred and one, hundreds—it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter who you were or what you did. No matter what, I was always going to save you."

She raises a hand, and her **Materializer erupts—**light shimmering like the twinkling of stars.

"I’ve had way too much time to visualize this in my head. No more gloomy, tragic scenes. From here on out, it’s all high-octane action for everyone’s sake—so let’s go all out!!"

The sky ignites.

Countless missiles materialize, trailing light like a meteor shower—
—all raining down upon Overdose at once.

An army of exploding brilliance.

The starlight tears through the heavens, outshining even the fissures in the sky.

"Th—this can’t be—!"

The nun lets out a pained cry.

"Do something—please, Exemplary Demon Demonicus—! I’ll give you everything—Alisa, Maina, Yuuki, Kouto, Rein, Seira, Hatsuka, Kuuna, Hain, Marika, Keito, Aria, Shilua, Teiku, Riki, Raimu, Marudo—all of them, all the things I hold dear—!"*

But none of that registers.

Because the sight before me is too dazzling.

Next to me, Sabaki stumbles—about to collapse.

So I catch him.

He tries to say something, but blood catches in his throat, and he coughs painfully.

"A-are you okay?! Don’t push yourself, you don’t have to talk—!"

"Gh… yeah, I’m… fine. But… there’s something I never got to say…"

"You can tell me later—"

"—I never properly confessed, did I?"

Something like that—

Something like that, you could’ve said anytime later.

I’d even given up on it.

But—

I’m so happy.

So, so happy—

That my mind goes blank.

Ah.

Of course.

Of course it’s him.

Not because of power.
Not because of some "main story."

But because, in the truest sense—

He’s stronger than anyone.

Unbreakable.

The one who saved me.

The one who’ll save everything.

The real protagonist.

And now—

As the world burns around us—

He finally says the words I’ve waited so long to hear.

"I love you."

And just like that—

The story begins again.

---

My vision turned pure white.

---

Everything is blown away.

The entire world is dyed in flames—even the sky is crimson.

The clouds have vanished, leaving only the fissure floating above.

"You said you would offer up everything you hold dear, didn’t you?"

The platinum city, once shining, is now charred black.

At its center—
Something is devouring something else.

"Why—?"

"Because the thing you cherish most, despite claiming to value everything—"
"Is yourself, Overdose."

The woman is swallowed by the void—vanishing without a trace.

And then—the descent.

An overwhelming mass of power.

Thirty meters tall.

A vaguely humanoid void, faintly colored by structural hues.

The Exemplary Demon Demonicus.

Now in its complete form.

This is the final battle.

The message flashes through my mind.

But—this enemy was supposed to be an endgame boss.

The shockwave from its descent alone sends Nishizaki and Misora flying.

They recover.
They rejoin the fight.
But they stand no chance.

A single, careless swipe—
Like swatting away insects.
—Sends both of them crashing back to the ground.

But.

But none of that matters right now.

Because—

"Sabaki."

He’s—

Only his upper half remains.

...This is wrong.

Because in the game, an attack like that was just a pre-battle cutscene.
A flashy way to show off the boss’s overwhelming power—nothing more.
It wasn’t even a real attack.

Nishizaki and Misora brushed it off easily.
I wouldn’t have been taken out by something like that.

And yet—

Him.

The one who should have been the true protagonist—

Is lying here like—

Like some nameless mob.

"Tokizami... hey..."

His voice is so normal.

"I always... thought you were special..."

So calm, so casual—it almost makes me think this isn’t a big deal.

"Turns out... you weren’t."

"You were just a normal girl..."

"But even so, I... at the end..."

His voice is quiet, but steady—just like always.

"At the end... I still believed... you’d save the world..."

"————"

"So... I could... do this..."

"————"

"Because I love you... Because I wanted to save you..."

"————"

"I knew I couldn’t do anything..."

"But I didn’t... want it to end... just wishing..."

"————"

"I didn’t want you... to think these feelings were fake..."

"————"

"If this world has a protagonist... I wanted... it to be you..."

"————"

"Even if I’m just... some nameless sacrifice..."

"————"

"If the one who saves the world... is you..."

"————"

"Then I..."

And then—

Moribe Sabaki died.

No grand fate.

No dramatic last words.

Just—

Gone.

No protagonist's privilege. No plot armor.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Just death.

...

I walked.

Across the battlefield of the final showdown—now empty, abandoned.

Me, a nobody.
Not even a proper character in this story.
Standing alone like some kind of protagonist.

"In the end... even now...
He never showed up."

Before the enemy of the world, shimmering with structural colors—

I stood.

And then—

"A—"

I screamed.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

A sound like shattered glass inside my skull.

My mental and spiritual damage manifested.

From my back—like grotesque wings—

A searing, dripping, shocking pink radiance—
Vibrant as blood, toxic as venom.

"I’ll... kill you."

And then—it erupted.

Like a geyser.
Like a volcanic vent.
Like a gateway to hell itself.

The darkness-tinged light exploded—
Bursting.
Surging.
Expanding.

Ten meters.
A hundred meters.
A thousand meters.

Endlessly.
Infinitely.
Rupturing the world as it stretched toward the heavens.

"...Impossible. This is—"

"I'LL KILL YOU—"
"I WILL, I WILL, I WILL—ME—THIS ME RIGHT HERE!!"
"I'LL KILL YOU!!"

"DIE!!"

"JUST DIE, YOU MODEL DEMON, DEMONIXX!!!"

—Collision.

The wings of agony clashed against the demon’s strike, fissuring the world anew.

Darkness and rainbow fire scorched the earth.
Turbulent energy quaked the sky.

We clashed—
Hundreds of times in a single second.

A spiraling shockwave capable of shattering the cosmos.

Energy condensed into pure destruction
Morphed into black light,
Staining the planet.

The demon transformed a celestial star into a flaming arrow—
A crushing wall of firepower.

In any game, you’d dodge it with a gimmick.

But I—

I cleaved through it with brute force.

The shocking pink wings slammed into the demon.

A single, pummeling strike hurled its body into a platinum skyscraper—

No.

Clean through it.

From the Materia Manifestation Engine,
A flood of sinister light erupted.

Countless bloodstained razor blades
Swirled around me like a tornado—
Morphing into a dragon of steel, baring its fangs.

"Guh—!"

The demon shattered the attack meant to grind me to dust
And retaliated with annihilating light.

A blow that should have been unbearable—
Yet, I endured.

I made the impossible possible.

But that truth—

Felt so, so hollow.

The person who would have praised me for trying so hard...

Was already gone.

The raging wings grew stronger.

I thought of happy things.
I thought of happy things.
I thought of happy things.

All of it was painful.
Suffocating.
Unbearable.
Irreversible.

That’s why I could fight an unwinnable battle.

How long did I keep it up?

My body stopped moving.

My vision flickered into darkness.

The demon conjured—

Something like a black hole.

In its palm—

And hurled it.

"————"

I couldn’t dodge.

My legs—wouldn’t move—

"Tch!"

In that instant—

Nishizaki-san.

A burst of water jets from her soles.

She grabbed me midair—
Blasted us both away.

The black hole’s direct hit—avoided.

But—

Its gravitational pull dragged us toward oblivion.

"—Go!"

She hurled me away from the attack.

And then—

Like a missile rider,

Tenma Misora-san caught me mid-flight—

Using the black hole’s pull—
Not to be swallowed—
But to accelerate.

Skirting its edge—
Before rocketing straight toward the demon.

The wings of agony contract. The shocking pink radiance tightens, condensing into my palm.

From my right hand—a cursed blade ignites, seething with death, burning a signal-red glow.

From my left—a sacred sword flares to life, its silver light as human as it is divine.

One born of the abyss.
One forged in salvation.

I slash upward.
I slash downward.

The two forces collide—splitting heaven and earth apart.

I'm being overpowered. I can't win. Instinct takes over—I kick Tenma Misora away to safety.

But when I look back—

The demon’s body is breaking apart, its form collapsing under the sheer force.

Even if I’m annihilated here… it’s going down with me. That much is certain.

…Then, fine.

If this is how it ends—fine.

I think… I did something incredible.
I think… I saved the world. I saved someone.
I think… I atoned to Tenma Misora. I became something to someone. I built something real.

But.

The thing I always wanted to be—

It feels so dull.

So.

But.

"————"

This… is what he left me.

My power surges past its limit.

The blood-red blade carves through the demon, cleaving it into the void.

It has no face—yet, as it vanishes, I swear I see something. A flicker of confusion. A refusal to accept this end.

"Ugh…"

I won.
I achieved victory.

But this kind of victory—

"Saba… ki…"

Tears spill, trailing behind my falling body—too late.

And then—I plummet.

Down, into a city where he no longer exists.

---

It was a place unknown to anyone.

『…………』

A space like the margins of a story—somewhere never spoken of.

The exemplary demon Demonix stood silently, its form fading, dissolving into nothingness.

Then, without a sound, a man appeared before him.

『What…?』

Black. A figure that seemed to bleed into the darkness of night. A pitch-black coat. A pitch-black full-face helmet.

Armor—its plated design intricate, undecipherable, as if it held a meaning long since forgotten.

Instead of a sword of light, he held up something small. A tattered commuter pass.

Collateral. Something crucial. Something of immense value to this world.

A trade.

A sacrifice.

An offering in exchange for borrowing the exemplary demon Demonix himself.

『Sabaki Moribe… Why—no, I see.』

And then, he spoke.

"—I offer my strength, my fate, my very existence. Every last fragment of the stories bound to me—I sacrifice them all."

『And in return, what do you desire?』

"That was decided long ago."

『Very well. Accepted.』

A contract was forged.

As his own form began to dissolve, the demon posed a final question—casual, almost idle.

『But are you sure? There are still countless threats left to defeat. Do you truly believe the world can go on without its protagonist?』

"It doesn’t matter. This is game over for me. I’m not this world’s protagonist anymore—"

"They are."

And so, having saved an utterly ordinary high school boy…

The one who was meant to save the world disappeared from it entirely.

---

Turns out, it was all just a dream.

I woke up.

An unfamiliar ceiling—no, wait. A familiar one.

On my desk, no bandages, no medicine. The closet, lined with plain, masculine clothes.

A game console lay on the floor, next to it, the latest installment of that series.

Right.

The Super Smash Bros.-style game Sabaki and I sometimes play together.

"Ughh…"

I crawled out of bed and opened the curtains.

Before heading out, I washed my face.

The girl in the mirror stared back—pink hair and all.

I’ve gotten used to making simple breakfasts with one arm, and by the time I was mostly ready, Sabaki returned from his morning jog.

"…Why are you just casually in my house?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Not really, but—"

Then I remembered my dream.

Without thinking, I threw myself against his chest.

He grimaced a little—still sweaty from his run—but I didn’t care. I used to hate the smell of guys’ sweat too, but Sabaki’s is different.

That kind of thing—realizing I’m gradually becoming more like a girl—makes me a little happy.

…Though it also feels kinda perverted.

Normally, I wouldn’t do this before he showered, so he gave me a questioning look.

"…Something happen?"

"You died like some random NPC in my dream…"

"Oh… Well, I mean, that wouldn’t be that weird…"

I glared. He awkwardly backtracked.

"Not that I want to die! That’s why I’ve been training so hard lately."

"But you don’t have to cut into our time just to hit the gym!"

Grumbling, I sat at the table for breakfast.

After losing my arm in that battle, Sabaki’s been feeding me. Not that I can’t eat on my own—Enterprise’s high-tech prosthetic takes care of daily life just fine, and I can fight like normal.

But since I am missing an arm, I let him feed me.

…Still.

Why didn’t he die back then?

And how did I win?

Honestly, I still don’t really get it.

It didn’t feel like fate was on our side—we were just two ordinary humans.

But if something was looking out for us, it wasn’t gods or destiny.

Probably just… some kind person, somewhere.

—

After changing, we headed to school.

On the way, we ran into Tenmi Misora-san.

"Hey, Kizami-chan. You don’t have to use ‘-san’ with me, you know? We’re classmates."

"But I did get held back four times, and you’re already an adult. It’d feel weird not to."

"Oi, Moribe. Oi. I don’t mind, but Kizami-chan looks like she’s about to cry from guilt. Take responsibility and commit seppuku."

Tenmi Misora—four years older than us, but still our classmate after spending four years hospitalized.

Maybe the panacea slowed her aging, or maybe she was just baby-faced to begin with, but she definitely doesn’t look twenty.

She’s already back to being active—strong as ever.

I still firmly believe she should spend the rest of her life making amends, both publicly and privately… but she insists it’s okay for her to live for herself now.

…As if losing four years of her teens is something you can just brush off.

The Commander’s still hospitalized, but I heard she’ll be back soon.

Lately, I don’t feel as hesitant about visiting her.

Personally, I want everyone to take it easy, live peacefully—and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.

At the very least, I’ll work hard on missions to lighten her load.

…Though lately, with fewer emergent threats, Tenmi Misora-san keeps stealing all the assignments.

It’s a problem.

At lunch, I met up with Nijisaki-san, and the four of us talked together.

Lately, it feels like we’ve settled into a solid group—one guy, three girls.

From Sabaki’s perspective, he’s the lone black sheep in a sea of pink.

As a guy, I’m jealous.
As a girl, I’m also jealous.

…This is a problem. No upside here.

Well, whatever.

"Wait, they gave her permission to go outside?!"

"Yeah. She’s gotten better at controlling her electricity, and the stab wound’s healed. …Still got other issues, though."

Not everything’s been neatly resolved.

Even after taking down a global-level Threat and reclaiming her position in the Army, her standing’s still shaky. If anything, it might be more precarious now than before.

But unlike back then—she’s not alone anymore.

There’s more we can do.

Failures, setbacks, regrets… bit by bit, we’re reclaiming them.

Slowly, but surely.

—

After school…

Still not joining any clubs, the two of us walked home side by side.

(And no, losing an arm doesn’t stop you from holding hands with your girlfriend.)

Then, at night, we took to the streets—

Alongside Sabaki, Army agent-in-training.

…We could’ve chosen to wipe our memories and become nobodies again.

But we both wanted to be something.

Even if that desire was born from misunderstandings and missteps…

I think, finally, we’re inching closer to something—something shapeless, but real.

And we both decided—

We didn’t want to let go of that.

Even now.

We’re still fighting—to grasp that something special.