"..."
He mumbled a few more words to punctuate the air between them, his mouth moving with the low, rhythmic cadence of a slow-burning song.
Those final syllables were delivered without the sharp edge of aggression or even the heat of passion; they were spoken with a casual, devastating simplicity.
Yet, to Wyne, those mere words felt like a tectonic shift beneath her feet, leaving her suspended in a state of pure disbelief.
「...You?」 Wyne's thoughts spiraled, her mind struggling to reconcile the boy standing before her with the role he was claiming.
「Out of everyone in this city, you? Nomoro? Why? You haven't done anything to deserve this burden. Not even once. You were never the one who sought out trouble, so why would you volunteer to carry this? And doing it for Trizha... you can't just step into her life like this and expect to change the orbit of her world…」
"B-but Nomoro," Wyne stammered, her voice small and fragile against the heavy silence of the alley. "She... she isn't even looking for this. She doesn't expect this from you."
"I know," Nomoro replied, his voice dropping into a tone softer than she had ever heard from him.
He looked away for a moment, his gaze tracing the jagged line where the brick walls met the darkening sky. "I know it sounds stupid to do such a thing. On paper, I have no obligation to her. I don't have to do it. But... I can't help it. My body moves before my logic can stop it."
The confession was raw and, in his own mind, likely embarrassing.
It was an unnecessary risk, an illogical path for someone like him to take.
However, as he spoke, Wyne realized he had his reasons—reasons that had been fermenting in his silence for far too long.
He stood straighter now, his presence less like a threat and more like a pillar. Wyne found herself intrigued, her initial shock giving way to a desperate need to understand the man behind the "Demon of Nine Years Ago" reputation.
Nomoro's eyes clouded as he recalled the day they first met.
It had been a disaster of epic proportions, a conversation that had spiraled into violence.
Trizha, in a fit of impulsive rage and a desperate need to "return the favor" for his perceived slights, had struck him.
It was a jagged, painful memory to hold onto, but Nomoro spoke of it with a serene kind of acceptance, as if he had already forgiven the blood and the bruises.
"After my first day at school... a lot of things happened," Nomoro continued, his voice steady. "People look at me and see the cause of the chaos. Or, if they're being kind like you, they see me as the victim of it. But for me? Trizha was both the spark and the fuel. She was the cause and the victim of her own fire. I was just the secondary cause—the person who happened to be standing in the way when it all blew up."
Wyne's eyes widened.
She wanted to argue, to defend her best friend's honor, but as Nomoro spoke, she found herself nodding in silent agreement.
Trizha was a whirlwind of her own making; she created conflicts out of thin air and then got swept away by the debris.
Wyne stayed silent, her karate stance long forgotten, as she leaned in to listen.
Nomoro wasn't finished.
"After that day, I never once despised her for what she did," he said, his gaze returning to Wyne's.
"I knew I had done things wrong too. I was too blunt, too closed off. But before I decided on this path, I wanted to understand her. I wanted to see what she felt when the cameras were off and the smile faded. It was a long, exhausting task, observing her from the corners of the room, but I think I finally succeeded. I found out that behind that loud, cheerful facade... she is in a state of constant, suffocating stress just by thinking about me."
Wyne raised an eyebrow, her mind racing back through the last few weeks.
She searched for moments where Trizha had looked uncomfortable or out of place.
To her horror, the evidence was everywhere once she knew where to look.
She remembered the way Trizha's voice would pitch slightly higher when Nomoro entered the room, or how her laughter sounded brittle whenever his name was mentioned.
She thought of Trizha's last live vlog during the hotel tour—Trizha had been acting so manic, so "on," that Wyne had just assumed it was for the fans. Now, she realized it was a shield.
"But... how can you be so sure?" Wyne asked, her voice trembling. "How do you know it's stress and not just... annoyance?"
"Because I'm her roommate," Nomoro stated, the fact carrying a new, heavy weight.
"I've been observing her when she thinks no one is looking. She avoids my gaze, she speaks rudely to me unintentionally as a reflex, and she can't even stand in the same kitchen without shaking. She's afraid of me, Wyne. Not because I'm a 'demon,' but because she's burdened by the guilt of what she did to me. She's trapped by her own mistakes, and she wants to end the conflict by any means necessary. I saw it in the aquarium—that look in her eyes. It was a look of someone looking for an exit."
Wyne's heart sank.
This was a side of Trizha she had completely missed.
She felt a bitter sting of regret for not noticing her friend's internal collapse. She had always prided herself on being the protective one, yet she had been blind to the struggle happening right under her nose.
「Trizha... you…」
「...You should've told me about it. You shouldn't have carried that alone」
"Knowing all of that," Nomoro said, his eyes flashing with a newfound clarity, "I have made my decision. If she is going to attempt to end this conflict by sacrificing her own peace of mind... then I will be the one to end it first. I will break the cycle before it breaks her."
Wyne looked up at him, truly seeing him for the first time.
The sunlight from the alley exit framed his large silhouette, and for a moment, he didn't look like a delinquent or a stranger.
He looked like hope.
She was placing her faith in Nomoro—the very person she had feared just minutes ago.
She was betting everything on a "demon" to fix the person she loved most in the world.
"Fine," Wyne whispered, her voice uncharacteristically soft and laden with emotion. "Just... just don't waste this chance, Nomoro. Don't let her down."
Her heart began to gallop against her ribs as she stared at him, her face flushed and damp with sweat.
She felt breathless, left speechless by the sheer gravity of his resolve. Nomoro didn't say anything more.
He offered her a faint, surprisingly gentle smile before turning on his heel.
"Okay," he said, his voice trailing back to her as he began to walk toward the exit. "I'll see you around, Wyne."
Wyne watched him until his broad shoulders disappeared into the bright glare of the plaza.
She stood alone in the dark alley, the silence returning, but her heart wouldn't slow down.
She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the frantic thumping beneath her palm, and looked down at her shaking fingers.
"What is this feeling?" Wyne thought, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Why does it feel like the world just started over? Oh, whatever."
She just simply shrugged off her feet, feeling a good sense of relief. She can't wait to reunite with her friends again, after all this time.
In the end, this little confrontation led to something… unimaginable.
And that would– THRAACKKK
Wyne's eyes suddenly went wide. Shock, confusion, a stabbing sense.
It felt as if something had struck her, indirectly. It wasn't her. It was someone else.
She gasped, she wanted, she breathed heavily. This feeling she felt just now, it felt the same way Trizha had it just moments ago.
"Something… no, someone… someone is in danger…!" She thought to herself.
「Wyne. When I don't come back, it means I'm dead. So, when it comes to it, find Trizha. Get to Nomoro. And…」
「...Run away.」
"…Margaret…!!" She shouted through her mind, before rushing out of the dark alley to look for her dear friend.
Wyne wanted to help her, and if that meant stepping into the darkness to protect their group, she would do it.
But instead, it was Margaret who did it in the end.