Bzzzz—
The ringing in his ears returned.
More intense than ever before. More painful.
Like sharp needles drilling into his skull, twisting and burrowing through bone—enough to make him feel like he was losing his mind.
But he didn't.
Just like every other torment he'd endured, no matter how extreme, no matter how unbearable—he never broke.
Even in moments when he wished he could.
Why do I have this trait?
Takakai never considered himself special.
He had never known his parents. Like Chiyo, he was an orphan, raised in a welfare institution. Though compared to her, he was infinitely luckier—the caretakers might not have been particularly warm, but they at least raised him and taught him how to survive in society.
He graduated high school, got into university—but never went. Instead, he worked odd jobs, dabbled in various hobbies (some normal, some bizarre), but nothing ever stuck. The longest he'd committed to anything was writing novels just to pass the time.
His high school homeroom teacher always insisted that if he just applied himself, he could land a decent job, marry someone financially stable, and afford a house without much trouble. They never understood why Takakai seemed so self-destructive.
Truthfully, for a long time, he didn't understand either.
He just... didn't want that life.
The idea of clocking in and out daily, marrying, having kids, then waiting for retirement—it held no appeal. No reality to him. If anything, it repelled him.
Looking back now, maybe it was because he lacked those formative experiences. Maybe because he hadn't grown up in a "normal" family like most kids, so the concept felt alien.
Or perhaps...
He never really felt alive at all.
He could support himself, avoid starvation—but had no drive to strive for more.
He could study hard, improve himself—but saw no meaning in it.
No interest in accolades. No ambitions.
Beyond games, movies, anime—distractions to kill time—nothing truly engaged him.
In the end, it was like he had no real passions, no idea why he even existed.
In that sense, the "Takakai" of this alternate world he'd replaced might have been a reflection of his own psyche.
Though...
That had changed now.
Because he'd met girls who mattered to him. Girls he couldn't ignore.
And only after meeting them did he finally understand why people yearned for marriage and family.
...I'm getting off-track.
For some reason, though his consciousness remained clear, everything felt dreamlike, hazy. He wasn't sure why.
But thinking back, before entering the Sacrifice Game, he'd never shown any particular talent for mental resilience. He never knew he had such a trait.
Especially after Nutty Putty Cave—that hellish experience, unforgettable as it was—the fact that he'd endured it at all still baffled him.
And then there was the watch.
This incredibly powerful, utterly mysterious tool—his so-called "cheat."
Why him?
Why was he chosen to experience all this?
No answers came.
But answers weren't really important.
Because he'd already accepted every hardship thrown at him.
And he'd decided—
I'll protect everyone who's been good to me.
Maki. Chika.
Two girls who'd entrusted their lives to him. He couldn't fail them.
...And miko, though he wasn't entirely sure where her feelings stood. Their relationship wasn't quite the same.
Oh, and Kaguya—a comrade-in-arms who'd fought alongside him through life-and-death battles. This whole mission to rescue Hayasaka was for her sake.
...Wait, why does it sound like Kaguya became an afterthought, and Hayasaka an afterthought to the afterthought?
"Mm..."
Blinking groggily, Takakai opened his eyes.
Unsurprisingly, an unfamiliar ceiling greeted him.
...Well, not entirely unfamiliar.
He'd seen this ceiling before—
The orphanage.
I made it?
Realization struck, and Takakai immediately tried to sit up—only to collapse back down as agony and exhaustion wracked his body.
What the—?
His limbs felt like lead.
Like he'd just gone six rounds in a no-holds-barred match with Maki and Chika, then run a 30-kilometer marathon right after.
The pain centered on his abdomen.
Right—Chiyo had stabbed him clean through.
But the Rescue Team Badge should've healed that by now. Why did it still hurt so much?
Worse, it felt like something was draining his strength.
Looking down, Takakai saw his stomach stained a dark reddish-black.
Crude bandages—stained with blood—were wrapped tightly around the wound.
Gritting his teeth, he peeled them back slightly.
The wound hadn't healed.
It had been sutured—thin golden threads holding the flesh together, preventing further bleeding.
Without hesitation, Takakai dug his fingers into the wound and pried it open.
White-hot pain exploded through him as he got a clear look at his own intestines.
Huh. Pink. And kinda... tender-looking.
Letting go, the badge's power kicked in, knitting the torn flesh back together—yet the wound stubbornly refused to close completely.
Now Takakai could feel it—
Something invisible lurked within the injury, not only preventing healing but actively siphoning his stamina and mental energy, imposing a constant weakness debuff.
"So that stab came with a curse. Tch. What a rip-off..."
Grumbling, Takakai scanned the room, confirming he was indeed inside the orphanage.
A child's room, judging by the tiny bed—so small his feet dangled off the end.
The state of the place matched the post-destruction period: drawers yanked open, closet ransacked, the bed stripped bare down to the wooden slats.
As for Hayasaka—
She lay curled up on the floor beside the bed, nearly tucked underneath it (which was why Takakai hadn't noticed her at first).
A torn section of her uniform revealed a sliver of her slender waist.
Exhausted, injured, and overwhelmed by terror, she'd fallen into a deep sleep—unable to even stir when Takakai moved.
Why the floor? Is this some Four Arts family "know your place" doctrine?
Still too weak to move much, Takakai summoned his first Rescue Team specter (now off cooldown) to scout the room.
Once confirmed safe, he dismissed it, then leaned over the bed's edge, grabbing Hayasaka's shoulder and hauling her onto the mattress.
"Nn... Mr. Takakai? You're... awake?"
Though deeply asleep, being manhandled was enough to rouse her.
But the moment she saw Takakai, her tense body relaxed visibly, a quiet sigh escaping her lips.
"Need more time to recover. What's the situation? How'd you get us here?"
As he spoke, Takakai secretly rolled the die.
The result eased his tension, his tone softening further.
Unconsciously, Hayasaka shifted closer—a dependency she didn't even realize she'd developed.
Then she haltingly explained:
After the spatial shift, Takakai—weakened by the cursed wound—hadn't woken first this time.
So Hayasaka carried him through the orphanage's halls, finding this intact, lockable room as a temporary shelter.
When his wound refused to heal, she'd ventured out again, scavenging a sewing kit from a larger bedroom.
Then—using her own hair as thread—she'd sutured his stomach shut.
"This place... doesn't seem to have monsters. That's why I dared to search. But on the way back... I kept feeling watched. I don't know if it was just my imagination..."
By the end, she was practically leaning against him, oblivious to her own actions.
Takakai reached out, patting her head gently without a word, simply waiting for the badge to purge the curse.
Though it struck him then—
He'd been wearing the Rescue Team Badge for over a day now, yet it showed no signs of corruption.
Had absorbing Howard and hirano's grudges caused it to evolve, further reducing its contamination?
If this keeps up, this thing might actually become some kind of divine artifact.
"Mr. Takakai..."
Hayasaka's timid voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Yeah?"
Looking down, he met her gaze—only for her to immediately avert her eyes, too flustered to hold his stare.
"Can we... really save Lady Kaguya? Can we... leave this place?"
A tremble ran through her words. Perhaps she'd wanted to ask this for a while, only now finding the courage.
"Of course. Didn't I just purge that parasite clinging to you?"
Takakai's reply came without hesitation, his smile unwavering.
But Hayasaka clearly had more to say. After a pause, she continued, voice shaking:
"I believe in you. Thank you... for rescuing me from the kennels. For coming here with Lady Kaguya to save me. It's just... I'm sorry, but sometimes I wonder if I'm worth all this effort. I... I can't help you. I'm just dead weight here. I—"
Her voice cracked, tears finally spilling over.
No more masks. No more composure.
All the fear and pain since entering this dungeon poured out in quiet sobs.
She'd never shown such vulnerability to anyone but her mother.
Yet here, faced with Takakai's gentle gaze—seeing him awake after his long unconsciousness—she couldn't hold back anymore.
"Crying's good sometimes."
Takakai pulled her into an embrace.
"Fate's a real bitch. It'll break you if you let it. So cry it out. Let it go. Because in the end... we'll get through it."
As he spoke, feeling her tremble against him, an odd sense of parenthood washed over him.
And then—
With nothing to do but wait for his status to recover—
His mischievous side itched for entertainment.
So his next words came with playful teasing:
"Just trust me. That's all you need to do."
"I'm kinda a pro at punching above my weight class. Mostly by accident, but still."
"As for payment... after we get out, how about a kiss? I've got a thing for cute girls' kisses."
Hayasaka's trembling stopped.
Slowly, she looked up.
Eyes still red-rimmed, her cheeks flushed faintly as she stared at him.
"Don't wo—"
I'm just kidding, Takakai meant to say.
But before he could—
Hayasaka, after a brief hesitation, leaned up and pressed her lips to his.
A feather-light touch.
Then she rested her head against his shoulder, whispering:
"I believe in you, Mr. Takakai."
Her voice trembled again—
But no longer from tears.