"…About that Spirit, Diva… I'm not sure if 'details' is the right word, but we've learned quite a bit," the white-haired girl said.
"Unusually hesitant for you," Kurumi remarked, tilting her head at the girl's faltering tone.
Not long after their encounter with the diva Spirit, Diva, information had come in. Kurumi investigated DEM, while the girl focused on Diva, though much of her data came from Ratatoskr. It was a bit underhanded to piggyback on their intelligence, but they'd make full use of the organization's prowess. If Commander Kotori heard, she'd probably pop a vein yelling, "What are you two doing!?"
"…She's the most unique Spirit I've seen, so I'm a bit thrown off," the girl admitted.
"Even you get like that?" Kurumi said, smiling. "She is quite the character."
Kurumi's casual grin showed she found Diva's antics merely "notable," her boldness—or familiarity—making the girl give a wry smile. Ratatoskr's findings were shocking, especially for the girl, who found Diva's behavior… unfamiliar, to say the least.
"Then, about Diva… or rather, Miku Izayoi's background," the girl began.
"Miku Izayoi… the idol, yes?" Kurumi said.
"You knew?" the girl asked.
"I've heard the name," Kurumi replied.
She'd only recently learned of Miku, through magazines and TV, particularly after starting to check daily horoscopes—love horoscopes, specifically. Why she'd begun doing so was… beside the point. Despite their different worlds, Miku's fame as an idol had reached even Kurumi, and she was a Spirit.
"No clue why a Spirit's an idol," the girl said. "She debuted six months ago. Her voice is called a 'narcotic,' racking up insane hits. But she's never appeared in magazines or photos—not a single one."
"How did they identify her?" Kurumi asked.
"It took serious effort to get bootleg concert footage," the girl said. "Ratatoskr's crew worked hard."
"Should we… commend them?" Kurumi wondered.
"Who knows?" the girl replied.
Both tilted their heads. Ratatoskr's core crew was intense, and Kotori, wrangling them, was impressive.
"Anyway, confirming Diva as Miku Izayoi clarified a lot," the girl said. "Why she flipped on Shidou instantly, and why her attitude changed again with Origami."
Her coldness wasn't just salt—it was a rollercoaster. Learning the reason left the girl stunned. It was a first for her.
"Miku Izayoi hates men," the girl explained. "Like, really hates them. Her secret concerts are women-only, and… rumor has it, she takes her favorite female fans… well, home…"
She trailed off, nodding as Kurumi cut in.
"No need to struggle," Kurumi said. "So, Miku-san adores girls, correct?"
The girl nodded. A yuri girl. Kurumi had no issue with personal tastes but sighed inwardly, her hand on her cheek. This was trouble. Plus, the girl's rare distress needed addressing.
"I don't share that preference," Kurumi said, "but are you… repulsed by Miku-san?"
"No, it's not that," the girl said. "It's just… shock, or confusion. I can accept it, but my idea of love is so tied to a man and woman, rooted in strong memories."
Words failed her. She didn't judge Miku's lifestyle—she knew such paths existed. But facing it, her biased knowledge took time to process. Then it hit her: her bias came from two sources. One was her memories. The other stood before her.
"…Now that I think about it, this weird bias is your fault, my queen," the girl said. "Your intense romance with Shidou made passionate male-female love my default."
"Don't pin that on me," Kurumi retorted. "My romance with Shidou-san is… not normal, but it's wholesome."
"A date where you fight for his life isn't wholesome," the girl said. "It's the most complicated love I've seen."
"That's your bias," Kurumi insisted. "It's wholesome and peaceful—for me."
Sure, compared to forcibly taking Shidou, it was relatively peaceful. But the girl saw it as a far-from-wholesome war date. She couldn't argue too hard, having suggested it.
"…Fine, love talk aside, this helps me process it," the girl said. "Thanks, my queen."
"I'm not thrilled with that gratitude," Kurumi muttered.
The girl laughed, seeing Kurumi's complex expression. The two intense loves she knew—likely Kurumi and Shidou's—had planted a strange bias. Recognizing it let her accept Miku's ways, though she still felt a twinge of discomfort.
She didn't judge Miku, but Shidou's mission to conquer this Spirit was a minefield.
"What will Shidou-san's group do?" Kurumi mused. "With such stubborn rejection of men, his usual approach won't work."
"…It's handled," the girl said, hesitating. "This is harder to tell you…"
She guessed Shidou himself wanted this kept secret most. Whispering, she saw Kurumi's curious look.
Men wouldn't do. But only Shidou could seal Spirits. A dead end—except his "harmless" face, as Kurumi put it, was both a blessing and a tragedy. For Kurumi… the girl couldn't even predict her reaction.
"Girl," the girl said.
"Pardon?" Kurumi blinked.
"Shidou Itsuka… is cross-dressing to approach Miku Izayoi."
Clutching her communicator—now a camera—Kurumi left the room without hesitation. Impressed by her adaptability, the girl muttered, "Don't awaken my queen to strange tastes, Shidou Itsuka… no, Shiori Itsuka."
"Ha…" A sigh felt alien in a girl's voice. Light makeup, long hair—if this were someone else, Shidou might call her a beauty. But it was him, and it wasn't funny.
Shiori Itsuka. His new alias. Mastered makeup skills, Ratatoskr's detective-grade voice-changing bandage—Shidou had transformed perfectly into a high school girl to conquer the man-hating Miku Izayoi.
He understood and accepted it. He resented Kotori, but abandoning a Spirit wasn't an option. So why was he sulking alone on the school rooftop? Partly self-loathing for his reckless choice. Partly dread at the thought of her seeing him like this—for the umpteenth time.
"—!" An alarm—not a spatial quake, but in Shidou's mind. Normally, it was just a sense of her presence, inexplicable but welcome. Now, it was an emergency siren.
"Crap…!" he muttered.
The rooftop offered no cover, but he darted to hide near the entrance. Avoiding her like this was unprecedented—anyone who knew him would question his sanity. But as Shiori, it was only natural.
Takanotsume, Origami, Kaguya, Yuzuru, even Kotori, the mastermind—he could handle them seeing him. Yoshino's innocent gaze might sting, but he'd recover. But she was different. He absolutely couldn't let her see him like this.
Though, rationally, the odds of her not knowing were slim. Shidou clung to faint hope.
"…She's not coming?" he whispered, peeking at the entrance. No sign of the door opening. He only sensed her nearby, not her exact location or if she'd left.
It was obvious, really. She was always elusive.
"Over here," a voice said.
"Wha—" Shidou turned to hear a camera shutter. His dolled-up, dumbfounded face was surely captured.
"You seem well, Shidou-san… or should I say, Shiori-san?" Kurumi asked, holding the phone with a radiant smile, her charm unshakable even if the world flipped. Her black outfit and twin-tailed hair were familiar sights.
The moment he saw Kurumi, Shidou's heart sank.
"Don't… look at me!" he cried, tears welling as he curled up, turning away to hide.
"Shidou-san? What's wrong?" Kurumi asked.
"I… didn't want you to see me like this…" he mumbled.
"Oh… oh," Kurumi said, understanding. No misconceptions—she read his words perfectly.
Finding his embarrassment endearing, she saw him trembling, curled up like a child hiding only his face. Gently, she embraced him.
"Don't say that," she said softly.
"But… this getup—" he protested.
"It's to save a Spirit, isn't it?" Kurumi said. "Then you should hold your head high."
"Kurumi…" Shidou murmured.
Her words, though his cross-dressing was half-forced, were a balm. Hesitantly, he didn't pull away from her arms around his neck. Her sweet scent soothed his heart.
He didn't want her, of all people, to see him like this. To save a Spirit, he'd swallowed his pride to dress as a girl, but Kurumi—the girl he cared for most—couldn't see him this way.
It was a privilege. The boy who brought kindness to every Spirit saw Kurumi as special. His actions, not just words, proved it. Not wanting to be disliked by someone he loved—how could she not be thrilled? She felt the same.
"I'm delighted," Kurumi said. "It's adorable. You don't want me to dislike you, do you?"
"Obviously…" Shidou said.
"Yes, yes, exactly," Kurumi purred. "My dear, dear Shidou-san. My Shidou-san."
Her enchanting whisper sent shivers through him—then she nibbled his ear.
"Hyah!?" he yelped.
"Oh my, oh my," Kurumi teased. "Such a cute voice, Shidou-san. You mustn't."
"Y-you…" he stammered.
"Keep that up, and I'll want to devour you," she said.
Her words sent a thrill through him—not fear, but joy. The ecstasy of surrendering to Kurumi, of being consumed by her.
Which meaning did she intend? Either way, his joy was undeniable. How blissful it would be to give in. Yet, the boy who refused to yield in their game persisted.
"That'd… be a problem!" he declared.
"Oh?" Kurumi replied.
Swiftly, gracefully, he shifted, turning to pin her gently to the ground. Shidou above, Kurumi below. She showed no resistance, smiling as if accepting everything, her cheeks faintly flushed. Her provocative pose made him swallow hard, but he didn't stop.
"If you say that… I might want to devour you too, Kurumi," he said.
"That's… wonderful," she replied. "Passionate."
Was his hesitation for her or himself? Likely, she wouldn't refuse him, even if he reached for her clothes now. She'd embrace it.
The overwhelming excitement drowned out his pounding heart. Under the vast sky, only their breaths and the ticking of her golden eye filled the silence.
"I like you," he said.
"And I like you," she replied.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you too," she echoed.
"I'm in love with you, Kurumi. So—"
"I'm in love with you, Shidou-san. So—"
They loved too much, needed more, craved endlessly.
"Give me your everything," he said.
"Give me your everything," she countered.
Their love, a warped war date of vying for each other's lives, was too intense to resolve. They locked eyes, laughing together.
"Guess it'd end up like this," Shidou said.
"Indeed, indeed," Kurumi giggled. "You're so stubborn, Shidou-san."
"That's my line," he shot back.
"Ufufu. Oh, and… it suits you, Shi-o-ri-san."
"Not thrilled with that compliment," he grumbled.
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