"Michael, were the soba noodles last night good?"
"...They were good."
"Michael, are we going the wrong way? I checked last night, shouldn't the detention center be..."
"...There's traffic that way. I'm taking a detour."
"Uh... shouldn't we be turning here? Why haven't we changed lanes?"
"...Because if we turn, we'll get stuck in traffic. So, we'll keep going straight to find another way."
"So, uh, how were the steamed buns this morning? I looked up so many guides to learn how to make them..."
"Sigh..."
Michael let out a sigh. While gently turning the steering wheel, he glanced in the rearview mirror at Mei, whose appearance had changed so drastically she was completely unrecognizable.
"My dear young lady, you don't have to be so nervous..."
"Huh? Am I nervous... Is it that obvious?"
Mei undid the black ponytail she had just tied, only to immediately tie it back up again. Then she unbuttoned the top button of her shirt collar, then buttoned it back up.
"When people are nervous, they unconsciously try to distract themselves with other actions to relieve the tension. Like muttering to themselves, or constantly repeating meaningless movements."
Mei's hands, which had been smoothing the hem of her jacket, froze mid-air. Having her thoughts laid bare so bluntly didn't bring her any relief from not having to hide anymore; instead, it made her even more tense.
"Just relax, Mei. To put it bluntly, with me here, this definitely won't be the last time you see your father. What's there to be so nervous about?"
"No, I just... I can't really explain why I'm so nervous, it's just... my hands, they won't stop shaking. My mind is a mess, I don't know what I'm thinking, I don't know what I'm doing, my hands just keep shaking, shaking for no reason."
"Sigh... If I'd known it would be like this, I would have brought that idiot Kiana along."
"Pfft—"
For some reason, that comment hit Mei's funny bone. She suddenly clutched her chest and started giggling foolishly. Though she looked a bit silly, in a way, her attention had been successfully diverted, and she naturally felt less nervous.
In reality, she was just thinking: if Kiana were here, she would have only caught Mei's nervousness and become just as anxious. And with Kiana's "talent," she would probably be even more talkative and fidgety than Mei was.
She actually kind of wanted to see that happen, and not for any malicious reason. What bad intentions could she possibly have? She just remembered that Michael was never good at handling Kiana, and she simply wanted to see him get flustered by Kiana's antics.
"Alright, get ready, Mei. Two more traffic lights and we'll be at the detention center. Remember, don't be nervous. Right now, you're not Raiden Mei. You're simply Ms. Akagi, the lawyer entrusted by Miss Raiden Mei and Mr. Michael to defend Mr. Raiden Ryoma. Got it?"
"Understood."
Mei wanted to respond with that crisp affirmation, but Michael's reminder had the opposite effect. The tension she had just managed to suppress instantly flared back to life.
To call it simple nervousness would be an oversimplification. It was a tension born from a mix of causes—the excitement of seeing her father soon, and the fear of her disguise being discovered.
But regardless of the cause, the result was the same: her hands started shaking again.
"It's fine, Mei. Like I said, this won't be the last time you see Mr. Ryoma, so there's no need to be so worked up. And the disguise I've created for you is flawless. As long as you don't give yourself away, you won't be discovered. Of course, even if you are, it's nothing to be afraid of. Worst-case scenario, I'll just break you out of the detention center, and we can even take Mr. Ryoma with us. Then we can find a secluded place to live in isolation. Wouldn't that be nice too?"
"Mhm..."
Mei murmured in agreement, and her mood calmed down.
As expected, Michael understood her as well as ever, always able to dispel all her worries in the most direct way possible.
"Alright, the driver's job is done. It's your turn to take the stage, my lady... ah, no, I mean, Attorney Akagi."
Mei glanced around, a little dazed. The car slowly drove through the first gate of the detention center and picked a random spot in the empty parking lot.
Calm down! Michael even ran me through a few rehearsals this morning. Everything he's said so far has come true, and everything he's done has succeeded. I have to trust him. And of course, I have to trust myself. I swear on the Raiden family name, I won't let this stop me!
Her gaze gradually hardened. She took a deep breath, placed her hand on the car door handle, and twisted it firmly—
Crack—
"Hmm? What was that sound?"
"Ah... haha... It's nothing serious..."
Michael frowned and turned his head. He saw Mei smiling awkwardly, her left hand slowly rising, still holding half of a broken door handle.
"Pfft! Hahaha! And I told you not to be nervous, my dear lady... This is your family's car, you know... Hahahaha!"
Laughing uncontrollably, Michael reached over from the driver's seat and ruffled Mei's hair with a hand that seemed perpetually warm and dry.
"Go on. With me here, you absolutely won't lose!"
"Okay!"
Mei composed herself and got out from the other side. Through the rearview mirror, Michael watched her walk step by step toward the detention center guards. Just as they had rehearsed, she handed over her lawyer's license and the court's letter of commission from the leather bag under her arm.
Under the soothing influence of the Authority of Sentience, everything proceeded smoothly.
In truth, even if there had been a hiccup and the guards had noticed something was off, it wouldn't have been a problem. The license and letter weren't fakes; Michael had taken them directly from the real lawyer. Even the suit and briefcase Mei was wearing were "borrowed" from the real "Attorney Akagi."
It was impossible for the guards to find any flaws in those items because, from start to finish, only Mei herself was the fake. And her current appearance was a modification Michael had made based on the real "Attorney Akagi." Michael was confident that a mere human guard couldn't see through a cellular-level transformation created by the combined powers of Reason and Death.
But what was the point of all this?
Michael laughed at himself. It wasn't that he regretted it—he had long lost the right to regret—but... he still had the right to self-deprecation, didn't he?
"As expected, being unable to discard these weak human emotions only leads me to take unnecessary actions, directly affecting the efficiency of the plan. How laughable."
He leaned back and picked up the door handle Mei had broken in her excitement from the back seat.
The break was uneven. The handle was made of pure brass and was significantly deformed, with clear fingerprints left on its surface. It was obvious that it hadn't been broken by a sudden burst of force, but that Mei had been gripping it too tightly out of nervousness from the moment she touched it.
But a girl not yet seventeen, even with years of kendo training, and even if she was using excessive force, should never have had that much strength.
"The time for playing house is finally coming to an end..."
Whether it was a problem with Michael's intervention, or a "tidal phenomenon" triggered by him and Seele as the "original Stigmata bearers," or Mei's own emotional fluctuations, the Stigmata power that had been forcibly suppressed by the Gem of Conquest was far more active than expected.
If this continued...
No, if he dragged this out any longer, things might truly spiral out of his control...
If he still had the Authority of Finality, he wouldn't mind using the power of time to predict future possibilities. But now that a Herrscher had already been born, what would be the consequences of rashly using the Authority of Finality? He couldn't afford that risk. Of course, there was no need to take it either. He just had to stick to the original plan and get everything back on track as soon as possible.
He casually tossed the broken handle into the door's side pocket and tapped his index finger against the steering wheel.
"Cocolia... that woman is really... strange, hard to fathom. But... she's a very useful tool, and a better scapegoat than Otto..."
Michael closed his eyes and replayed the plan he was supposed to have executed over a month ago in his mind.
"Good, most of the preparations are fine. Even with a month-and-a-half delay, the overall situation doesn't need much adjustment. That means, all I need to do now is set the time, and then everything can..."
As he thought of this, a wave of sickening guilt washed over him.
"Michael, what does Raiden Mei truly mean to you?"
A voice, another version of himself, echoed in his mind. It was a brilliant method he'd developed to pass the time during his long solitude—separating the different voices in his head and using the Authority of Sentience to shape them into relatively independent mental entities to converse with.
"Michael, what does Raiden Mei truly mean to you?" the voice repeated tirelessly.
"Is she the 'hero' you've admired since birth? Your legally adopted daughter? A continuation of her life? Or is she someone you must personally push into darkness, step by step, only to bring her back to the light, all so that the blade in her hand can, at the end of the story, sever everything once more?"
"I don't know," Michael replied to himself with a straight face.
He plunged his consciousness into his mental world, a place where everything mental could become a component of his consciousness.
Another "Michael" appeared before him, but it had no features, just a blurry silhouette. It didn't possess a complete personality; it was merely a construct Michael had forcibly created from a small part of his own emotions.
"Perhaps all of them. Or perhaps... none of them. Whether human or Herrscher, they are all meaningless before Finality. They can't mean anything. If I had to say, among the countless things that don't even qualify as dust, she is somewhat special. Special enough to be standing in my path, special enough that only by stepping on her can I, at the end of this road, see her again."
"..."
As Michael spoke, a plain road appeared beneath the feet of the two Michaels in the otherwise blank world. The other Michael turned its head without a word, and the road continued behind it, stretching toward a distant, pink-glowing horizon.
"That's right. This is the sole purpose of my remaining life as the god of this world. As a part of me, you should understand. So, just disappear. Don't waste any more time."
The featureless Michael nodded but made no move, quietly blocking Michael's path.
"Hmm?"
Michael looked at the silhouette, identical to his own, and shook his head in disappointment.
"We share the same memories. We both know what a perfect being she was. We both know the mistakes we made. We both know her sacrifices. We both know she deserved to live more than we did. Yes, live! She must live to see the ending she wanted to see with her own eyes! Didn't we promise her that, right before she faded away?"
"Are you really sure that was a promise?" the faceless Michael sneered. "She had lost her reason to fear at that time. Have you forgotten? She asked you the same question. If humanity itself is an imperfect existence, did she become perfect at the end of the story? Your answer back then was—yes. So, you must also admit this possibility: when she said those words, she was already regretting it out of fear of death. If you really do this, she will only be disappointed... She won't like the ending you bring her. No matter how beautiful that ending is, it can't hide the darkness she hated most along the way."
"Mhm."
Michael took a deep breath and nodded heavily, looking perfectly calm.
"You're right. I know. But... I know, I know, I KNOW! But so what! SO WHAT, you tell me—SO—WHAT!!!"
Michael grabbed the featureless version of himself by the throat, hoisting it in front of him and roaring.
The blank face of his other self was like a mirror, reflecting his own face, twisted and blood-red with fury. It reflected the bulging veins on his temples and the white mist and spittle spraying from his mouth.
"Why are you blocking my way? I just want her to live! As long as she lives! Nothing else matters, NOTHING!"
With a snap, he broke the neck of the being he had created with his own hands.
He had killed him. Because he was blocking his path.
"Huu..."
Michael let out a long breath. This was far from the first time he had killed himself. The feeling was, as always... comforting.
He seemed to have spent a long time in his mindscape. The color of the space around him had dimmed to a drowsy red, like the color of a fine red wine that could make one pleasantly tipsy.
"Is it evening already? Mei should be coming out soon."
A family reunited after so long would inevitably talk a little too much. It wasn't a problem. A defense lawyer needed to confirm many complicated details, so a longer consultation wouldn't arouse the guards' suspicion. In fact, the opposite would be more likely to.
He stared blankly at the western sky. His view of the horizon in that direction was blocked by a dense forest and even taller steel-and-concrete structures, but he could still see the sky, which looked as if it had been scorched by fire.
Tap, tap!
Someone tapped lightly on the car window. Michael turned his head. Through the glass, Mei offered a strained smile.
The color of the sunset concealed the faint redness around her eyes, but it couldn't hide the swelling from her tears. Of course, Michael wasn't surprised.
"Get in."
Through the window, Mei heard Michael's voice.
The black car slowly pulled out of the detention center. It was Mei who spoke first:
"Thank you, Michael."
"..."
Should he say "It's fine"? Or "It was nothing"? Or "You're welcome"?
None of them seemed appropriate. Only silence could express all those meanings.
"Father asked me many things. How I've been this past month, if my classmates have been avoiding me, how I'm getting along with you... He was very happy to hear about my current situation."
"Mhm."
"Michael..."
"Mhm."
"Father said... he wants to see you again."
"Mhm. Hmm?"
"He said that if it's you, you'd definitely have a way to meet him."
"Heh..."
Michael let out a cold laugh and gently patted the steering wheel.
After driving two more blocks, guessing that Raiden Ryoma was already back in his cell, Michael pulled over and parked on the side of the street.
"You just wait here. I'll be right back."