The light receded, and sound rushed back in.
The murmur of morning traffic. The uneven clack of bicycle wheels on cracked pavement. The faint bite of early spring in the air.
Saiki stood still for a moment, letting the sensation settle. His chest rose and fell, he was breathing. Alive. Still here.
For now.
Makoto's system had kept its word. He could no longer feel the hostile laws of the world. It was permanently gone. The threat that had stalked Makoto through the last timeline had been erased the moment Saiki agreed to the bargain.
The bargain that would take his soul when his life ended.
That thought didn't scare him as much as it should have. Not when the alternative had been Makoto's absence, an absence he'd already lived through in multiple other timelines, and had no intention of repeating.
He wasn't at PK Academy yet. This time, he'd aimed earlier, far enough to reach Haruka before the school year began. Before her enrollment could ever cross paths with Makoto's.
It didn't take long to find her. She stood at a bus stop, scrolling through her phone, a crisp folder tucked under her arm. PK Academy's entrance documents.
Saiki crossed the street without slowing, stopping just close enough for his voice to reach her. "You're not enrolling at PK Academy."
She blinked, startled. "What-?"
His power swept through her mind like ink spilling into water, staining every thought tied to the school. Application forms misprinted. Interview dates clashed. Family insisting on a different choice. Each false memory took root until PK Academy no longer existed as an option in her life.
When he stepped back, she frowned in mild confusion, muttered something about Shuchiin's entrance exam, and walked away.
Saiki watched until she vanished from sight.
Step one was done. The first thread that had once pulled Makoto into disaster had been cut.
He turned toward PK Academy, knowing that in a few weeks, Makoto would arrive. Alive, unmarked, and completely unaware of how much the world had already been rewritten for him.
And Saiki would be there, every step, until the day his debt came due.
A few weeks later, the day arrived.
PK Academy's front gates buzzed with chatter as students poured in, uniforms crisp, bags slung carelessly over shoulders. Saiki stood off to the side, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the crowd.
He'd been here before. He'd lived this moment before. But this time was different, no sense of danger waiting to spring the moment Makoto set foot inside.
Still, his chest was tight.
Then it happened, the low purr of a car engine slowing to a stop at the curb.
A sleek black sedan.
The driver stepped out first, opening the rear door with a practiced motion. And then, just like before, Makoto Teruhashi emerged. Sunglasses catching the light, Blue hair perfect despite the faint breeze, posture radiating an ease that didn't quite hide the weight of being watched.
Saiki's gaze locked on him instantly.
Makoto glanced around, eyes hidden behind tinted lenses, and for a moment their gazes brushed, Saiki certain Makoto felt it, even if he didn't understand why.
He looked the same as ever, but Saiki's chest ached in a way it hadn't before. This was the boy he had given up his soul for.
Makoto turned toward the gates, steps measured and unhurried, the murmurs of students rippling around him.
Saiki stayed where he was, silent and still, watching him pass.
In this timeline, Makoto was safe. That was enough. For now.
The moment Makoto stepped into PK Academy, he knew something was… off.
The stares weren't new. The whispers, the sighs, the shameless gawking are also not new. He'd been dealing with those since he could walk in his original life. No, the strange thing wasn't the crowd, it was the boy he spotted across the room.
Pink hair. Sharp features. Eyes a shocking color of magenta. And the way he was looking at him, no, through him like Makoto was already someone he knew.
Weird and also surprising because that was Saiki kusuo.
[System: host! That's the target. And… I think he's looking at you like he wants to-]
The system glitched for a fraction of a second before blurting [system: flirt.]
Bai Ying resisted the urge to snort. Flirt? With me? Saiki kusuo???? The most nonchalant person in the whole anime Multiverse????
[System: Well… you are cute.]
Bai Ying smirked mentally. Obviously.
It didn't take long for Nendou, loud, friendly, impossible to ignore to latch onto him like they'd been best friends in a past life, even though they had literally just met yesterday when he first arrived in this world.
But the whole time, his attention kept flicking back to Saiki. The guy was quiet, yes, but every so often Makoto caught that subtle flicker in his gaze, like he was cataloging every movement Makoto made. Not hostile. Not even cautious. Just… watching.
By the time the lunch bell rang, Bai Ying decided he'd had enough of wondering.
Nendou's giant hand landed on Saiki's shoulder before the guy could bolt, and Makoto took the opportunity to step into his space.
Up close, Saiki was even more unreal. No, scratch that he looked drawn. Deliberately, painstakingly, like some artist had poured hours into making him look effortlessly perfect.
And Bai Ying, despite knowing full well he was here on a mission, had one single thought which was Damn.
[System: Host, you're staring. (人•͈ᴗ•͈)]
Shut up. I'm evaluating.
[System: Evaluating his jawline?]
…Yes.
Makoto flashed his practiced, dazzling smile. "Huh. I don't think we've met. I'm Makoto. And you are?"
"Saiki," the boy replied, voice flat but… not unfriendly.
Makoto tilted his head, letting his gaze linger in a way he knew got under people's skin. "Saiki…"
"Saiki Kusuo," Nendou added helpfully. "My best buddy!"
Saiki didn't deny it, but his eyes flickered, just for a second toward Makoto's mouth before returning to his usual, unreadable stare.
And that's when Makoto decided to test a theory.
"Hey, Saiki… are you dating anyone?"
Saiki blinked slowly. Once. Twice.
Nendou grinned like a man about to witness something incredible. "Oh yeah! You never talk about girls, Saiki! You got a secret girlfriend or something?"
Saiki didn't answer right away, but Makoto swore - swore, he saw the faintest quirk at the corner of the psychic's lips.
Saiki finally spoke, voice steady as ever.
"No."
Makoto raised an eyebrow. "No… you're not dating anyone?"
"No," Saiki repeated, gaze still on him, "but that depends."
Makoto blinked. "Depends on what?"
"On whether you're asking for yourself."
Makoto's brain did a brief blue screen. The hell?
[System: Host, I… I think he's hitting on you?]
You think?
[System: This is weird. He doesn't seem the type. Σ(ﾟДﾟ;)]
He doesn't seem like anything. That's the problem.
Saiki didn't elaborate, just leaned back in his chair and picked up his lunch bag. His eyes, though still fixed on Makoto, said he was waiting for an answer.
Makoto found himself smiling before he could stop it. "And if I was asking for myself?"
Saiki stood, passing close enough that his sleeve brushed Makoto's. "Then maybe I'd answer differently."
Makoto watched him walk toward the door, his brain trying to reconcile mission target with unexpectedly dangerous in the charm department.
[System: This is going to be easier than we thought.]
Or harder, Makoto thought grimly, because something told him Saiki Kusuo wasn't just playing along, he was playing him.
The cafeteria was a riot of sound. Buzzing conversations, clattering trays, and the occasional chair scraping like nails on a chalkboard. Makoto moved through it all with his usual composed ease, balancing his tray as if he were on a runway. Behind him, Saiki followed at an unhurried pace, close enough that Makoto had already noticed the spacing wasn't exactly accidental.
Nendou led the way like a human battering ram, waving at people, pointing at tables, and generally making enough noise for the entire group.
When they reached a table, Nendou immediately dropped onto the bench and patted the spot beside him like calling a dog. Makoto made for the opposite seat. But before he could sit, Saiki stepped forward, slid into the space beside him, and set down his tray.
Makoto glanced over, eyebrows raised. "Voluntary proximity? I'm flattered."
Saiki adjusted the angle of his tray, unbothered. "You were blocking the better seat."
Makoto smirked. "Better seat, huh? Sure."
The moment they sat, Nendou was already talking about something neither of them cared about. Makoto, ignoring him, rested his chin on his palm and tilted his head toward Saiki. "So. You're not dating anyone?"
"No."
"Not even a little? I'd think someone like you would be drowning in confessions."
Saiki didn't look up. "That's your assumption."
Before Makoto could push, Kaidou arrived with his usual dramatic flair, muttering about dark forces and casting suspicious glances at the "new transfer." Makoto disarmed him quickly with an easy handshake and a conspiratorial compliment about his "aura." Kaidou lit up instantly.
Saiki, still beside Makoto, spooned coffee jelly without a word, but Makoto caught him glancing over, just briefly when Makoto leaned in close to Kaidou to deliver the compliment.
Aren showed up next, sizing Makoto up before sitting down. Makoto rattled off his name like he'd known him forever. Saiki's shoulder brushed Makoto's when Aren sat, but he didn't shift away.
The chatter was interrupted when Nendou dropped a horrifying heap of curry, bread, and an entire fish onto Makoto's tray. Makoto stared like he'd been handed evidence from a crime scene. "This is edible?"
"'Course it is!" Nendou declared, slapping his shoulder hard enough to make Saiki's cup wobble. Without looking up, Saiki reached out, steadying Makoto's drink before it tipped.
Makoto's eyebrow twitched upward. "You catch drinks for everyone, or just me?"
"No one else has been in danger of losing one."
Makoto took a bite of Nendou's "lunch," immediately regretting his life choices. Aren laughed. Kaidou made a face. Nendou beamed.
When the noise died down, Makoto leaned just slightly toward Saiki, voice low. "You haven't said much. Shy, or just playing hard to get?"
"Neither."
Makoto smirked. "So you're watching me on purpose."
Saiki paused just long enough to be noticeable before returning to his jelly. "Observing," he corrected.
"Sure," Makoto murmured, leaning back with a satisfied grin. "Whatever you need to call it."
If Saiki noticed the victory in Makoto's tone, he didn't comment. But he didn't shift away, either.
Makoto tilted his head, watching Saiki methodically scoop through the glass cup of coffee jelly. The silver spoon glinted in the sunlight filtering through the classroom windows.
Makoto, purely out of habit, leaned closer, his gaze fixed on the dark, glossy cubes that wobbled slightly with every movement. "You really do love that stuff, huh?" he teased, lips quirking.
Saiki didn't answer obviously, but his spoon paused midair. Without looking up, he turned the utensil toward Makoto, the trembling cube balanced on it.
Makoto blinked. "...Is this a peace offering, or are you trying to poison me?"
Saiki gave him the look, the flat, unreadable one that somehow managed to be equal parts 'you're annoying' and 'just take it.'
Makoto took the bite, the bitter sweet flavor melting on his tongue. He swallowed, then smirked. "Guess that means we're married now."
" Yes, maybe. " Saiki very deliberately turned back to his dessert. Makoto blinked, the words taking a moment to register. His jaw went slack. "Excuse me- what?"
Makoto stared at him like he'd just casually proposed in the middle of lunch- which, given the context, wasn't entirely inaccurate.
[System: …Host, did he just-?]
Don't. Say. Anything.
Across the table, Nendou was busy trying to stab the curry fish hybrid with a fork, Aren was scrolling on his phone, and Kaidou was whispering something about "forbidden contracts" to himself. Not a single one of them noticed the verbal landmine Saiki had just dropped.
Makoto leaned in slightly, voice low. "You can't just say stuff like that with a straight face."
Saiki's gaze flicked up for half a second. "I can. And I did."
Makoto's smirk faltered into something dangerously close to genuine fluster. He leaned back, exhaling slowly, like he was trying to process just how casually this guy could dismantle him with two words.
[System: Host's heart rate increased by 18%. (๑•̀д•́๑)]
Shut up.
Saiki took another slow bite of his coffee jelly, as if the entire exchange hadn't happened. But the faintest, barely there upward quirk at the corner of his mouth told Makoto one thing, he knew exactly what he was doing.
Makoto decided he wasn't going to give Saiki the satisfaction of seeing him rattled at least, not openly.
Unfortunately, Saiki seemed to have decided the opposite.
By the time they left the cafeteria, the psychic was walking just close enough for their shoulders to brush when the hallway narrowed. He didn't speak, but every so often, Makoto would catch the tiniest glance in his direction, like Saiki was measuring the exact effect of his presence.
In math class, Saiki sat beside him. Not Nendou. Not some random seat in the back. Directly next to Makoto, sliding into the desk with a quiet finality that made it clear he'd chosen it on purpose.
Makoto glanced sideways. "Assigned seating?"
"No," Saiki replied without looking up from his notebook.
Makoto arched his brow. "Then why-"
"You're easier to observe from here."
[System: …That's either creepy or hot. I can't decide.]
Makoto's pen froze halfway down the page. "Observe?"
"Your reactions," Saiki said simply, jotting something down. "They're interesting."
[System: …Host, he's studying you. (´;д;)]
Makoto let out a slow breath, trying to focus on the blackboard and not the fact that Saiki's sleeve was brushing his every time one of them moved.
By the time the bell rang, Makoto wasn't sure if he'd learned any math but he was very sure that Saiki Kusuo was playing a game only the two of them knew existed. And Makoto had the sneaking suspicion… Saiki was already three moves ahead.
By the time the last bell rang, Makoto thought, hoped Saiki might finally peel off and vanish to wherever psychics go after school.
Instead, when he stepped out the front gates, Saiki was there. Hands in his pockets. Neutral expression.
Makoto slowed."...are you following me?"
"No," Saiki said flatly. "We're going the same way."
Makoto arched a brow. "Are we?"
"Yes."
[System: …You do know his house is in the opposite direction, right?]
Makoto didn't even glance at his interface. I know.
They walked side by side down the quiet street, the afternoon sun spilling gold over the pavement. Saiki said nothing, but every so often, Makoto caught him adjusting his pace so they stayed perfectly in step.
At one point, they passed a vending machine. Saiki stopped, bought two cans without asking, and handed one over.
Makoto took it slowly. "So… you just happen to live this way."
"Yes."
Makoto smirked, taking a sip. "And I just happen to be a world class gymnast."
Saiki didn't miss a beat. "I wouldn't be surprised."
They reached Makoto's street sooner than he expected. He stopped in front of his gate, turning to face Saiki. "Well. Guess this is me."
Saiki gave a small nod. "Guess so."
And then he turned around and started walking back the way they came.
Makoto stared after him, lips curling into a grin. "Unbelievable."
[System: He totally followed you home.]
Yeah, Makoto thought, watching that pink head disappear down the street. "Hey, does this count as saiki flirting? "
[System: maybe (^_^)]
That night, Makoto lay sprawled across his bed, one arm flung over his eyes. The faint hum of the city outside filtered through the half open window, blending with the soft glow of his system's interface floating in the dark.
He sighed. "Why is this mission so easy?"
[System: Easy?]
Makoto rolled onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow. "Yeah. Saiki's… not like the one in the anime. He's supposed to be hard to get close to. Quiet. Keeps people at arm's length. Since this morning? He's been-" He hesitated, searching for the word. "right there. Constantly."
[System: …Maybe it's love at first sight?]
Makoto snorted. "You're joking."
[System: I'm just saying, he hasn't exactly been subtle. Even I've noticed.]
Makoto stared up at the ceiling, lips quirking despite himself. "…Who knows."
He let his head fall back against the pillow, closing his eyes. "I'll just go with the flow, I guess."
[System: That's your plan?]
"Mm-hm." He smirked faintly. "After all, if the current's pulling me in the right direction, why fight it? Especially if it's a very cute psychic boy"
The system hummed softly in the dark, and Makoto drifted off still thinking about a deadpan voice saying, Yes. Maybe.
Once Makoto fell asleep, the room settled into stillness.
Saiki stood in the corner of the darkened room, unseen. The rhythmic sound of Makoto's breathing filled the quiet, steady and alive.
Alive.
His fingers curled loosely at his sides, the familiar ache pressing against his chest. The scene of Makoto dying still flashing through his mind.
But now, here Makoto was. Safe. Warm.
Saiki stepped closer, the moonlight catching faintly on his pink hair. His gaze traced every line of Makoto's face, committing it to memory all over again, even though he'd never forgotten. Not once.
He crouched beside the bed, close enough to feel the slow, even exhale of Makoto's breath against his skin. His own heartbeat was too loud in his ears.
Finally…
Bending forward, he pressed the lightest of kisses to Makoto's forehead. Just a fleeting touch, barely there. But enough for him. For now.
Straightening, he let his eyes linger one moment longer before stepping back into the shadows.
"This time," he murmured so softly only he could hear it, "I'll chase after you."
And with that, he vanished from the room, leaving behind nothing but the steady rise and fall of Makoto's chest.
From the very first time they met the mission had already ended, though Makoto didn't realize it at the time.
From the day they met, Saiki Kusuo never left his side. At first, Makoto thought it was a coincidence, the same lunch table, the same walk home, the same inexplicable appearances wherever he went. But coincidence didn't explain the way Saiki's gaze always found him in a crowded room. Or how, no matter where Makoto turned, Saiki was already there.
Makoto decided to push the boundaries, just to see what it would take to make the unshakable Saiki react. He flirted in passing, leaning closer than necessary, letting his hand brush Saiki's, tossing out lines like, "You'd be cute if you smiled more."
It should have bounced right off him.
Shockingly, it didn't.
Saiki always flirted back, never in the obvious way, but in that precise, understated Saiki way that left Makoto momentarily speechless. A flat, "I smile enough when I'm looking at you." A quiet, "Maybe," in answer to a teasing, "You like me or something?" A deliberate piece of coffee jelly pushed across the table without a word, followed by that infamous deadpan "Yes. Maybe."
It wasn't like the Saiki Kusuo he'd watched about, detached, uninterested, impossible to get close to. This Saiki stayed. This Saiki answered when Makoto spoke, slipped in quiet remarks that made his heart stutter, and looked at him like he was something rare.
And somewhere along the way. slowly, quietly, Makoto stopped thinking of it as a mission.
He didn't notice the exact moment it happened. Maybe it was the late autumn afternoon when Saiki wordlessly adjusted his scarf against the wind. Maybe it was the rainy day when Saiki stepped closer so the downpour hit him instead. Or maybe it was the quiet night they shared coffee jelly in the dark, their knees almost touching, neither of them saying a word but both unwilling to move.
By the time Makoto realized it, it was too late. Saiki's voice wasn't just part of the mission anymore, it was part of his day. His steady presence didn't feel like a strategy. It felt like safety.
It wasn't a job anymore. It wasn't an assignment to complete. Makoto was just… falling in love.
Saiki was the one who confessed first. No theatrics, just a steady, unwavering look and the words, "I like you." As if he'd been holding them for years.
From that moment on, Saiki chased him openly. He was the one who invited Makoto out, who reached for his hand first, who leaned in without hesitation. The one who bought the rings and asked, in the middle of a quiet afternoon, "Will you marry me?" as though the answer had always been yes.
Makoto said yes, not because the mission demanded it, but because by then, he couldn't imagine saying anything else.
They married in their late twenties. The ceremony was small, intimate, and almost private until a few photos leaked online. The internet lost its mind. Famous actor Makoto Teruhashi marries a normal guy! Headlines spun stories, strangers speculated, but Makoto ignored them. Saiki ignored them harder. In the privacy of their home, Makoto teased him relentlessly "Guess you really weren't normal after all." Saiki never denied it.
Years passed easily. Saiki turned into a girl for a brief time and gave birth to their only child Suoto Kusuo Saiki–Teruhashi, who grew up with Makoto's charm and Saiki's quiet stubbornness. Their home was filled with steady love, the kind that didn't need proving, the kind that simply was.
Saiki lived to ninety six. He went first, quietly in his sleep, his hand curled around Makoto's like it had been for decades. Minutes later, Makoto followed, his final breath spent beside the man who had never once let him go.
Suoto found them that way, still together in bed, foreheads almost touching. To the world, it looked like a peaceful passing from old age.