Disclaimer:
This chapter contains emotional and thematic content centered on trauma recovery, moral conflict, and human empathy within a dystopian setting.
All characters under 18 are depicted non-sexually and within canon-accurate emotional contexts.
Any affection or attachment is presented from a child's emotional perspective, not romantic or sexual.
This work does not contain or endorse explicit sexual content involving minors.
Reader discretion is advised for violence and mature themes.
****
By the time they settled into the plush interior of the returning Lincoln limousine, the city was already enveloped in a thick, starless night. Who knew what Enju had been up to last night, but she had been dozing on and off all day. Now, she was fast asleep again, her head resting comfortably on Mahiro's lap, looking nothing like a professional bodyguard on a high-stakes mission.
In contrast, Asaka was the picture of diligence. She sat rigidly by the car door, her new katana, Kitetsu, held tightly in her arms, her sharp eyes constantly scanning the passing scenery outside the window for any sign of threat.
The Seitenshi, who should have felt a weight lifted after the tense meeting, instead had eyes clouded with sorrow. The so-called "informal discussion" had been nothing more than a one-sided declaration of war from Sōgen Saitake. He had openly declared his intent to become the sole ruler of Japan, stating that no one—especially not her—would be allowed to stand in his path. The idealistic Seitenshi, confronted with such selfish, unbridled ambition, had found no common ground. The meeting had ended in a stalemate, with bad blood hanging thick in the air.
As a result, for the entire return journey, the Seitenshi maintained her elegant posture, hands folded neatly on her lap, but her gaze was distant and melancholic as she stared into the darkness beyond the window.
"Don't look so downcast. By any measure, you were the one who won that meeting," Mahiro offered, his voice cutting through the heavy silence.
The Seitenshi stirred at his comfort, slowly shifting her gaze from the window to him.
"I'm not sad…" she began, pausing for a long moment before continuing. "Or perhaps… just a little. It's probably because I've always silently believed that if one treats others with sincerity, one will surely be met with understanding in return. And because of that belief, the reality is… all the more disappointing."
She managed a small, fragile smile. "But I am still quite relieved. Especially to hear you refuse President Sōgen Saitake's… invitation so decisively, Mahiro-san."
"Heh, what's there to be relieved about?" Mahiro scoffed, turning to look out his own window with a derisive snort. "Do I look like a fool who would willingly sit at the same table with a delusional madman? A man like Sōgen Saitake is destined for nothing but a spectacular, self-inflicted destruction."
"I know," the Seitenshi whispered. She lowered her head slightly, opened the mini-fridge built into the limousine's console, and took out three crystal-cut champagne flutes. Then, retrieving a bottle of peach juice, she carefully poured the sparkling liquid into each glass and handed them out.
Holding her own glass, she said softly, "It's just that… I've noticed, Mahiro-san, that you seem to hold an excessive amount of disgust. Even… hostility, towards the citizens of the Tokyo Area."
She looked at him, her pure, amethyst eyes searching his. "I don't quite understand. Why do you hold such deep-seated prejudices against the people here? In your eyes… are the people of the Tokyo Area truly so unforgivable?"
"Please don't ask me such dark questions, Seitenshi-sama," Mahiro replied, his tone blunt and unflinching.
"…..?"
The Seitenshi was taken aback. How was her question "dark"?
"Gang rape, molestation, public humiliation, systemic abuse, torture…" Mahiro began listing them slowly, methodically, as if recounting items on a ledger. "How many incidents like these do you think I've personally intervened in over the past year since I arrived in the Tokyo Area? No less than several dozen. And every single one of them was targeted at those children."
He let the grim tally hang in the air.
"And these are just the ones I've witnessed with my own eyes. How many more do you suppose have happened in the dark corners I haven't seen? It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say they occur every single day, every single hour! Do you truly believe a place inhabited by such beasts wearing human skin… still holds any value worth forgiving?"
From her post by the door, Asaka, who had been listening intently, subtly tightened her grip on Kitetsu's scabbard. Every word Mahiro spoke was the absolute truth. She herself was one of those who had been beaten and bullied daily. If she hadn't met Mahiro-sama, she would likely have long since died namelessly in some filthy, forgotten alley. And all of this had happened while the Seitenshi, who always spoke so nobly of granting them human rights, had consistently turned a blind eye!
Hypocrite! The thought, sharp and bitter, flashed through Asaka's mind.
"How… how could that be…?" the Seitenshi stammered, feeling the weight of Asaka's hostile gaze but even more shocked by Mahiro's accusations. "The Police Department has never reported such a volume of incidents. I myself have never heard of them!"
Chief of Police Kaima Masa's reports had never mentioned anything of the sort; he had only ever reported a rise in missing persons cases over the past year…
(Never mentioned in canon)
"Seitenshi-sama, your heart is indeed as pure and unstained as the white of your dress," Mahiro said, a note of genuine, almost pitying emotion in his voice. "I suggest the first thing you do upon your return is to fire every single one of those incompetent officials. Or better yet," his eyes glinted coldly, "just crush them all directly."
He knew, of course, that she would do no such thing.
Just as he predicted, the Seitenshi fell into a heavy silence. But it was brief. She quickly lifted her head, her gaze firming with a newfound, fiery resolve.
"I understand," she declared, her voice gaining strength. "I will launch a thorough and immediate investigation into the situations you have described, Mahiro-san. If it is truly as you say… then I will not let a single wrongdoer escape justice! I swear it!"
She said it with unshakable conviction.
"Then I'll be looking forward to the results," Mahiro replied, though he had no intention of holding his breath. The final outcome was as predictable as the sunrise. With Kikunojō Tendo's web of influence, the Seitenshi's investigation would be obstructed, buried, or twisted beyond recognition. She would not succeed. This conversation was merely a small, ultimately futile, spark in the overwhelming darkness. Nothing would change. Not him, and certainly not the rotten future of the Tokyo Area.
The limousine approached a major intersection and glided to a smooth halt at a red light. Outside, a fine, sporadic drizzle had begun to fall at some point, blurring the neon-lit scenery into streaks of smudged color.
It was then that Mahiro's gaze, focused somewhere in the middle distance, suddenly solidified. A faint, knowing smile touched his lips.
"They're here…" he murmured.
"Mahiro-san? What has arrived?" the Seitenshi asked, concerned.
But before she could finish her question, she saw Yotsuba Mahiro fluidly draw that strangely-shaped CAD pistol from inside his jacket. He didn't aim it at the car window itself, but through it, his arm extended, pointing towards a dark, nondescript building several blocks away.
"Driver. Don't move the vehicle," Mahiro ordered, his voice calm but absolute.
As the primary bodyguard for this mission, the Seitenshi had granted him full authority over route planning and command of the driver.
At that exact moment, a tiny flash of light flickered and vanished near the rooftop of the distant building.
Muzzle flash.
At the same time, a projectile—no, to be more precise, a high-explosive sniper grenade—was already streaking towards them at supersonic speed!
"That's… really pushing it," Mahiro muttered, almost to himself. Yet, the smirk never left his face as he pulled the trigger.
A pulse of psionic light erupted from his CAD. Just as the grenade was less than ten meters from the vehicle, it suddenly stopped dead in mid-air as if hitting an invisible wall. In the very next second, it silently disintegrated into a harmless cloud of metallic dust.
"Mahiro-sama?!" Asaka cried out, finally reacting and realizing they were under an assassination attempt!
At the same time, the commotion jolted Enju from her sleep. She immediately snapped to full alertness, her expression turning solemn as she followed the line of Mahiro's gun barrel towards the threat.
"Asaka! Enju! Get the Seitenshi out of the car and find cover nearby! Stay alert!" Mahiro commanded, his voice sharp and clear.
The limousine was a massive, obvious target and a death trap for a prolonged defense.
Asaka Mibu and Aihara Enju didn't hesitate for a second. Training and instinct took over. Asaka was responsible for forcefully kicking the heavy car door open, while Enju grabbed the Seitenshi's hand, pulling the stunned ruler from the vehicle with practiced efficiency.
But then, the distant muzzle flash flickered again.
And not just once. Five times in rapid succession! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The opponent seemed to have decided to empty the entire magazine, sending five more sniper grenades screaming towards their position in a deadly volley.
"Phalanx!!"
Mahiro instantly deployed a series of interlocking, hexagonal psionic shields, layering them in front of the Seitenshi and the girls. The grenades impacted the shimmering barriers and detonated simultaneously. The resulting chain of explosions tore through the night, the concussive force dispersing the falling rain in a wide circle. The Seitenshi quickly pressed down on her wide-brimmed hat as a scorching wave of superheated air washed over them, stinging her cheeks.
Her face was pale, her body trembling slightly. She clutched the hem of her pure white dress in a white-knuckled grip. She hadn't expected the assassin to use explosives of such magnitude right in the heart of the city. If she hadn't hired Mahiro… she, the driver, and likely many nearby pedestrians would have been vaporized.
President Sogen… why… why would you go to such monstrous lengths?! The Seitenshi bit her lower lip hard, screaming the question inwardly.
By this point, Mahiro had already exited the vehicle. He stood calmly in the open, his gaze piercing the rainy darkness, staring down the sniper hidden nearly three kilometers away.
"A distance of nearly three kilometers… Hah, you're really something else, Tina Sprout," he murmured, a note of grim admiration in his voice.
As if hearing his whisper, the attacker launched another assault. But this time, the weapon had changed. It was no longer an explosive grenade, but a massive, armor-piercing anti-tank round! The shooter had even switched to a flash hider in this short time; no muzzle flash was visible, making the shot's origin even more difficult to pinpoint.
"Mahiro-sama, let me handle it!!!"
Before he could activate Scattering Mist, Asaka suddenly moved. She positioned herself squarely in front of the Seitenshi, her body flaring with the characteristic crimson aura of a Cursed Child's unleashed power. Her thumb lightly pressed the tsuba (guard), her right hand forming a perfect, tight grip on the hilt of Kitetsu.
"Tendou-ryū Battōjutsu, Ittō Ryūdan—" (Tendou Style Drawing Sword, First Form, First Technique—)
"Hyōton!" (Freezing Drop!)
Shiiiiing—!
The sound of the blade leaving the sheath was a clear, sharp ring that cut through the chaos. The katana swung out in a motion faster than the eye could follow, its polished steel becoming a white flash of lightning against the dark, rainy sky. The incoming armor-piercing round was met head-on, instantly sliced into several harmless pieces that scattered uselessly, embedding themselves into the asphalt and the walls of nearby buildings with dull thuds.
But another shot followed immediately.
"Enju!" Asaka shouted, knowing she couldn't reset her stance fast enough.
"Haaah—!!"
Enju's eyes also blazed crimson. She didn't hesitate, launching herself directly into the air to meet the second sniper round mid-flight.
THWUMP—!
A fine burst of orange fire and sparks erupted where her boot made contact with the high-velocity projectile, followed a split second later by the sharp, deafening crack of the impact. After landing, the girl slid backward quite a distance on the wet pavement, her shoes scraping against the asphalt before she finally steadied herself.
These kids are absolutely ridiculous…
Even Mahiro couldn't help the twitch at the corner of his lips after witnessing that. That kind of fighting style—he estimated even he would have a hard time replicating it. Kicking an anti-tank round out of the air? Not even The Matrix would dare film a stunt that absurd.
However, perhaps precisely because of their unbelievably audacious defense, the sniper in the darkness ceased firing.
The next second, his phone vibrated. Seeing the number on the screen, Mahiro couldn't help but let a small, complicated smile touch his lips as he answered the call.
"…Moshi moshi? Is this… Mahiro-nii?" a small, hesitant voice asked.
"Hai. It's me."
"…This is Tina Sprout. May I… ask where you are right now? I'd like to… meet you."
"Miss me already?" Mahiro's voice carried a hint of its usual playful teasing.
However, the other end of the line remained silent.
"If you don't speak, I'll take that as a 'yes,'" he prodded gently.
"..."
Tina Sprout stood on the balcony of a middle floor in the distant building, her crimson gaze locked onto the brightly lit street where the limousine had stopped. The rain gradually soaked through her dress, then her platinum-blonde short hair, plastering it to her forehead. Even the massive anti-materiel sniper rifle resting on the balcony railing sizzled softly under the downpour. But she was oblivious, her entire being focused on waiting for a response from the other end of the phone.
Until that familiar, gentle voice came through again.
"As for where I am… Tina Sprout, you should know, right? You should be able to see everything perfectly clearly through that high-powered scope of yours."
The moment she heard this, Tina Sprout's heart stuttered violently. Her eyes widened slightly in dawning horror. For some reason, an uncomfortable, acidic bitterness surged up into her chest. She tried to suppress it, her voice trembling as she replied, "You… you already knew it was me?"
"Hai. Tina Sprout. IP rank 97. Codenamed 'Black Wind,' correct?"
(Silent Killer is the actual codename)
"…Then… then you must be… IP rank 134, codenamed 'Zodiac Killer,' Yotsuba Mahiro… right?"
"'Zodiac Killer'? Who came up with that codename? It's so lame," Mahiro muttered under his breath, a flicker of genuine annoyance crossing his face.
"As I… expected…"
Tina Sprout ignored his complaint. She lowered her head slightly, her shoulders beginning to tremble uncontrollably. Her world seemed to freeze solid. Even after seeing the footage transmitted by her spotter earlier, she had clung to a fragile, desperate hope. The figure in the rain was blurry; only the silhouette was similar… and boys Mahiro-nii's age often had similar builds…
Now, that last shred of hope was completely and utterly shattered. She felt her brain short-circuiting, all rational logic destroyed, beginning a catastrophic collapse. Her heart was instantly thrown into chaos. Her legs trembled so badly she could barely stand. A sob, raw and painful, tried to escape her lips, but she hastily choked it back down.
"Why…" she whispered, her voice breaking. "If you already knew who I was… why did you help me that day…? Why were you so kind…?"
"Why… let me think…" Mahiro's voice was soft, almost contemplative. "Of course, because a sleepy, muddle-headed Tina-chan is incredibly cute."
This time, the voice did not come from the phone.
It came from right beside her.
"Konbanwa, Good evening. We meet again, Tina-chan."
Yotsuba Mahiro was sitting casually on the wet railing of her balcony, one leg dangling over the dizzying drop. He waved at her, a gentle, familiar smile on his face. "Just as I thought. Tina-chan at night, while not as adorably dazed as during the day, becomes a truly stunning beauty when she's full of spirit."
Tina Sprout jolted violently, startled, and scrambled backward several steps. Her instincts screamed at her, and she instinctively pulled out the combat dagger hidden beneath her skirt.
But upon seeing that handsome, gentle face up close—the same one that had looked down at her with such patience and care—Tina Sprout's grip slowly loosened. The dagger clattered noisily to the concrete floor of the balcony.
"I… I can't do it…" she breathed.
Logically, she knew that despite her top-100 ranking, she stood no chance in a direct confrontation against the man known as the 'Zodiac Killer.' Emotionally, she couldn't bring herself to raise a weapon against the Mahiro-nii who had treated her with such kindness, who had let her use his lap as a pillow when she was at her most vulnerable.
What's more, her vision was blurring now…
No, that must just be the rain, she told herself desperately. Right? How could I be crying? I cried all my tears dry a long time ago.
Even though she had intellectually accepted that Mahiro-nii was the target her Master had ordered her to eliminate, her hands trembled uncontrollably, clutching desperately at the soaked fabric of her skirt.
And Mahiro just watched her silently, a satisfied, yet profoundly twisted smile playing on his lips.
Indeed, he thought to himself with a pang of self-awareness. I'm also a scumbag with a seriously warped sense of humor…
After a long while, the violent trembling in Tina Sprout's small frame finally subsided. She took a shaky breath and raised her head again, her amethyst eyes glistening with unshed tears and a heartbreaking resolve.
"Mahiro… no. Yotsuba Mahiro," she began, her voice small but forcibly steady. "I am Tina Sprout. The assassin tasked with eliminating the Seitenshi… and you. Now that my mission has failed… please. Kill me."
The girl bit her lip so hard it nearly drew blood, her face a tragic mask that was both on the verge of tears and a bitter, accepting smile. She pressed her hands tightly against her chest, as if trying to physically hold her crumbling heart together, desperately maintaining her composure.
However, Mahiro simply tilted his head and watched her, his expression unreadable.
"Aren't you going to struggle a bit more? I can give you a chance, you know," he offered, his tone almost conversational.
To be honest, an assassin who revealed their identity so openly rendered all covert operations meaningless. Especially when facing someone like Yotsuba Mahiro, who possessed powers that Tina Sprout couldn't even begin to comprehend. Not only did he have that terrifying ability to disintegrate matter, but he also possessed superhuman visual acuity, able to spot her from kilometers away, and the capability to appear before her as if by teleportation. Facing such an existence, any struggle would be a futile, pathetic pantomime.
Tina Sprout was painfully aware of this. A wry, defeated smile touched her lips. "Mahiro-nii… you truly are a lolicon with a twisted sense of humor."
"Lately, a lot of people have been saying that. I'll choose to take it as a compliment for now," Mahiro replied, a slight, amused smile finally gracing his features.
That being said, a tiny, stubborn part of Tina Sprout did want to struggle—to have one last, proper encounter. And so, they agreed to one final confrontation the next day. The kind that would decide life or death.
However...
The Next Day.
Yesterday's dreary rain had vanished, replaced by a brilliantly clear and sunny sky.
"…Mahiro-nii, I want to eat that…"
Tina Sprout, sitting primly on a park bench, pointed a slender finger at a bustling takoyaki stall not far away, her voice a sleepy but clear declaration of desire. Her appearance was almost no different from the past two days; she still looked drowsy and not fully awake, but she was wearing the same elegant azure dress from the night of the assassination attempt. Her slender arms were covered by silk long sleeves, and she wore a pair of stylish high heels that seemed a bit too mature for her age. It seemed she had dressed up carefully for this occasion, but the hairband on her forehead was slightly crooked, making her look even more endearingly dazed and disheveled.
"Hai, hai," Mahiro acquiesced with a fond sigh. After admiring her adorable, sleep-rumpled appearance for a moment longer, he got up and bought a portion of freshly made takoyaki from the vendor, returning to hand the warm box to her.
"Nee, Miss Tina Sprout," he began, his tone lightly teasing. "Do you still remember that we are supposed to be mortal enemies?"
"…I remember," she mumbled around a mouthful of takoyaki she was trying to spear.
"Do you also remember the life-and-death showdown we agreed upon for tonight?"
"…I remember."
"Then why are you casually begging for food from your mortal enemy? Aren't you afraid I'll poison it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"…What does it matter?" she replied, finally managing to skewer a ball. "The Tina Sprout of right now… is just Tina Sprout. And Mahiro-nii wouldn't do such a thing. Besides…" she looked down at the steaming snack with genuine reverence, "…this is precious food obtained from Onii-chan. Tina Sprout will surely cherish it and eat it all…
Ara? It fell."
Tina Sprout rubbed her sleepy eyes, which had been narrowed in happiness just a second before, and stared mournfully at the takoyaki that had just slipped off her skewer and onto the ground.
You said you would 'cherish' it? Mahiro was too tired to even voice the complaint internally.
And Tina Sprout looked at the dirtied takoyaki with such profound reluctance that it seemed she was about to squat down and pick it up off the ground to eat.
Mahiro quickly reached out and stopped her. "Yare yare… If it fell, it fell. If you want more, I'll buy you another box later. There's absolutely no need to eat off the pavement."
"But… Uguu… It's not my fault," she whined pitifully. "This takoyaki ran away from my mouth. It's very possible the octopus inside is still alive and moving…"
"Hai, hai, hai, the octopus inside has been chopped into pieces and cooked at high temperatures, but is definitely still alive and kicking…" he humored her. "But your Onii-chan is skilled at catching octopus. Here, let me feed you."
Although his words were delivered with a layer of sarcasm, their underlying kindness still deeply touched Tina Sprout. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling like dewy gemstones.
"As expected… Mahiro-nii is a great savior. So gentle…"
She said this, but she had already obediently handed the entire takoyaki box back to him, her mouth opening wide like a baby bird, waiting to be fed.
"Fufu." Mahiro couldn't help but chuckle softly. He picked up a clean skewer, speared a piece from the box, and carefully placed it into Tina Sprout's waiting mouth.
Tina Sprout chewed happily, a blissful aura radiating from her small form. Looking at her now, it was impossible to connect this innocent, sleepy child with the cold, professional sniper of the previous night. It was clear she was merely a tool, forced into a role she never chose. In reality, she was just a ten-year-old girl.
"Mahiro-nii, please, another one! I want more!" she requested, her voice muffled by food.
Like a little chick utterly dependent on its mother, Tina Sprout closed her eyes, leaned her upper body slightly towards him, and opened her mouth wide once more.
"Hai, hai."
Mahiro proceeded to feed her the remaining pieces in the box. With each bite she took, she emitted a pure, happy aura that felt genuinely healing to be near. She truly was an incredibly cute child.
"Are you full now? If not, I'll buy you another box," he found himself offering, discovering that the act of feeding her was strangely satisfying.
"Iie…" Tina Sprout shook her head, a soft, contented smile gracing her lips. "This… is already more than enough."
"Alright then."
Mahiro took out a clean handkerchief and gently wiped the traces of sauce from the corners of Tina Sprout's mouth. She allowed it, her gaze lifting to meet his, his own reflection clear and sharp in her lucid, amethyst pupils.
"I… really like you, Mahiro-nii," she whispered, her voice filled with a sudden, profound sincerity.
"Like? You mean like a little sister adores her big brother?" Mahiro asked, trying to steer the sentiment into safer waters.
"Iie," she shook her head firmly, her small hands clasping together in front of her chest as if in prayer. "It's the kind of liking… a girl feels for a boy."
Facing his doubt, Tina Sprout's expression remained unwavering.
"This is the first time in my life… I've been treated so gently, helped so many times. So, even if we are enemies… I still like you, Mahiro-san."
"Don't be silly," he deflected, a little flustered. "You're only ten years old. What could you possibly know about a 'girl's liking for a boy'?"
Just as the dismissive words left his lips, Mahiro suddenly felt a soft, warm, and fleeting pressure on his cheek.
Tina Sprout had somehow risen from the bench onto her tiptoes. Her hands were clasped demurely behind her back as she looked up at him, mustering all her spirit to declare:
"…Of course I understand. This… is the proof."