The press conference stretched well into the afternoon, the energy in the room still sharp even after two hours of nonstop questioning. The hum of conversation and camera shutters had become a steady rhythm, blending with the occasional laughter or murmured translation between reporters.
Thirteen girls, two managers, two executives—no wonder the Q&A took so long. Most of the questions weren't difficult, but there were plenty of them. Reporters wanted to know everything—how μ's came together, what inspired Peakey P-key's sound, what joining OG meant to them, and even trivial preferences like favorite genres and idols they admired.
By the time the microphones turned toward the managers, everyone had settled into a professional rhythm.
Keigo answered first, leaning into the mic with practiced ease. He recounted how Peakey P-key caught OG's eye by winning at Sunset Stage, their decisive victory over Happy Around—the other top contender that night—cementing their invitation.
When it was Aichi's turn, his words carried a gentler weight. He explained that μ's had been struggling to find an organization willing to take all nine of them in as a group. "Riku offered us a place not out of pity," he clarified, glancing toward the press rows, "but because he saw potential others overlooked. OG doesn't gamble on sympathy—they invest in vision."
That last line drew murmurs of agreement, even from the tougher critics in the room.
Then came the final portion—the segment everyone was waiting for.
Johan leaned back slightly in his chair, scanning the crowd. "Alright," he said, tapping the mic. "Now onto the last few questions. You, in the back—you've had your hand raised for a while. Let's hear it."
A middle-aged reporter finally lowered his hand, standing up with a polite bow before speaking. "Thank you. My question is for Iku."
Riku met his gaze evenly. "To me? Go ahead."
The reporter hesitated, as if measuring each word before committing. "I don't mean to offend, but... given how close you seem with μ's and Peakey P-key, could you clarify your relationships with them?"
The air shifted—soft murmurs rippled across the room. It wasn't an aggressive question, but it was pointed enough to stir curiosity. Riku, however, didn't flinch.
"Well," he said with a small shrug, "for starters—in μ's, with the exception of Honoka, Umi, Rin, Hanayo, Nozomi, and Nico, most of them I've known for years. Aichi and Kotori are my childhood friends. I met Maki through my father—they've known each other since before I was born. And Eli," he continued, glancing briefly toward her, "I met her in Russia last year. She happens to be Miposhka's cousin, so we hit it off naturally."
That explanation drew some quiet nods, a few pens scratching faster.
"As for Peakey P-key," he added, "Keigo's another childhood friend. With Shinobu, her grandfather taught me the basics of DJing. And Esora's family has long-standing business ties with mine."
The first reporter nodded, then took a slow breath before pressing further. "Then, forgive me for being direct—but are there any intimate relationships with either group?"
A hush swept through the conference hall, the kind of silence that could crack glass. The question wasn't hostile, but it skirted close to tabloid curiosity. Cameras tilted forward slightly, eager for reaction shots.
Riku's answer came cool and simple.
"I'm already engaged."
The bluntness of it stunned the room into another heartbeat of silence. The reporter blinked, visibly flustered. "Ah—I see. My apologies for the question."
Riku leaned back, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "It's fine. We all make mistakes sometimes." Then, without missing a beat, he gestured toward another hand in the front row. "You next."
The man he pointed to stood, bowing slightly before speaking. "I'd like to ask both n0tail and Iku—what are your expectations in signing these two Japanese groups? And... what are OG's plans for the rest of the year?"
Johan took the lead, his voice steady but carrying weight. "We'd be lying if we said our only expectation was that they 'do their best.'" He clasped his hands, leaning forward slightly. "We expect them to leave a mark. I want these teams to show the world what they're capable of—to make people remember them every time they hear the word 'Japan.'"
He paused briefly, his next words ringing through the microphones. "Show them that Japanese music isn't something to underestimate. Show that Japan is ready to take on the world."
Riku nodded beside him, his expression unreadable.
"And as for our plans," Johan continued, a faint smirk playing at his lips, "OG is going for the treble."
The reaction was immediate.
Silence fell—thick, heavy. The Japanese reporters exchanged puzzled looks, while the foreign journalists froze, some mouths half-open in disbelief.
Keigo turned his head sharply toward the stage. "Aniki... you're serious? OG's going for the treble?"
Riku exhaled through his nose, folding his arms. "That wasn't the original plan. But with μ's joining us... we might actually have a chance."
Yuka blinked, her confusion plain. "Uh, what does that mean exactly? 'Going for the treble?'"
Riku met her gaze calmly. "We're about to go for it, Yuka."
The explanation didn't need to be given, but the murmurs made it clear not everyone in the room understood. One foreign correspondent finally mustered the nerve to ask, though his voice shook slightly.
"A-are you s-sure?" he stammered. "Going for the treble—for an organization—that's..."
"Hard?" Johan finished, his smirk deepening. "Yes. We know."
He leaned closer to the mic, his tone almost electric now. "But this time, every piece we need is in place. If OG wants to cement itself as the greatest music organization in history, we have to chase it. Na'Vi, Fnatic, Invictus—they all came close. Each won TI, Worlds, or the Major, but never in the same year. They reached greatness, but not perfection."
Then Riku took the mic again, his tone shifting—steady, deliberate, but charged with intent.
"With TI11 just months away here in Tokyo, Worlds 2021 in San Francisco, and the next Major in Sydney," he said, his voice carrying across the hall, "this is the best chance OG will ever have. And we're doing it with Japan's golden generation."
The next sentence hit harder than any before.
"I would like to make an announcement as well. I, Iku," he declared, "will be returning to competitive music—both as a musician and as OG's musical advisor."
The room erupted.
Gasps, camera flashes, half-shouted questions—the kind of chaos no moderator could stop. Even the staff, who'd handled countless press events, struggled to restore order.
Johan's eyes widened a fraction, his shock masked quickly by a knowing grin. He'd expected Riku to make his move—but not this soon. July? He'd thought September at best.
Beside the reporters' frenzy, Aichi sat frozen. Keigo's jaw slackened. Even μ's and Peakey P-key looked stunned, their earlier composure replaced by disbelief. Eli's eyes gleamed with pride and confusion all at once, while Kyoko whispered something under her breath that only Shinobu heard.
Johan leaned toward Riku amid the noise. "You sneaky bastard," he muttered in Danish.
Riku didn't respond—he only smiled faintly, his eyes forward, as if already seeing the road ahead.
The flashes continued. Reporters shouted over one another, each desperate to seize the moment, to capture the statement that would ripple through headlines by evening.
But through all the noise, there was something steady about him—an unmistakable certainty.
The conference had started as a routine announcement, a corporate handshake between talent and organization. Now, it had turned into a declaration of war—OG's intent to rewrite the global stage.
And at the center of it, Nagae Riku stood unflinching, the weight of ambition gleaming in his eyes.
For the first time in years, the prodigy was stepping back into the arena. And the world was watching.
Nagae Estate
The afternoon light filtered through the tall windows of the Nagae Estate, casting soft patterns over the living room. The air was quiet, save for the low hum of the television that held everyone's attention. The broadcast of OG's press conference had just concluded—its final words still echoing in their minds.
Rinko sat with her hands clasped tightly, the glow of the screen reflecting off her pale skin. Her voice, though faint, carried weight. "Riku's... coming back to compete."
Lisa exhaled sharply, brushing a strand of her hair aside. "Which means—"
Yukina's calm but firm tone cut through her unfinished sentence. "—we're going to have a difficult time once we start our professional careers."
Ako's eyes practically sparkled. "That's awesome! We might actually get to face him head-on!" She looked like a child staring at fireworks, the idea of a duel against Riku igniting her excitement.
Sayo, meanwhile, stayed silent. Her injured wrist rested carefully on her lap, her gaze fixed on the screen. The faint reflection of Riku's confident smile lingered in her eyes—half admiration, half quiet frustration.
Miyu spoke softly, her voice almost drowned out by the sound of the ending credits. "Riku-san..."
Mafuyu remained expressionless beside her. "..."
Nazuna tilted her head. "Mafuyu-sama? Is something wrong?"
Mafuyu hesitated before answering, her tone calm but distant. "It's nothing..." She said the words, but her eyes betrayed her—reflecting a storm she wasn't ready to name.
Chiyu's Penthouse
Across town, a very different energy filled Chiyu's lavish penthouse. The room vibrated with the echo of a triumphant laugh.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NOW THAT'S MORE LIKE IT!!!" Chiyu shouted, throwing her arms into the air. "MY COUSIN'S BACK!!! ALL THE MORE REASON TO RISE TO THE TOP!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!"
"CALM DOWN, CHU²-SAMA!!!" Reona yelled, clutching her head as if the noise itself was physically painful.
Rokka blinked in alarm. "Chu²-san's gone mad!!"
Masuki just grinned, clearly amused by the chaos. "I dun mind it! Means we get ta face Riku-san for real! What about ya, Rei? Ain't ya stoked ta go up against your boyfriend?"
Rei paused, her hands tightening slightly against the couch cushion. "I... I don't know what to say," she murmured, her expression conflicted. But then, a spark of resolve appeared in her crimson eyes. "Still, I won't hold back. Not even against him."
The room went quiet for a moment, the rest of Raise A Suilen watching their vocalist. Then Masuki's grin widened. "Heh. That's the Rei I know."
Mitake Residence
Meanwhile, in a small but warm living room, Ran and the rest of Afterglow sat huddled together. The television replayed the highlights of the press conference—Riku's voice calm, deliberate, and absolute.
Ran leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "Nii-san..."
Moca tilted her head lazily, smiling. "You worried about him~?"
Ran shook her head. "No. Just didn't expect he'd make that kind of move."
Himari frowned. "You think maybe he predicted something bad was coming? Like, he knew he'd have to return soon?"
Ran looked thoughtful but unconvinced. "That's... a stretch. He's good, but not that good."
Tomoe folded her arms and smirked. "Ran, I know that look. You're itching to chase after him, aren't you?"
Ran didn't answer. Instead, she sighed softly, the sound almost lost under the TV chatter. Then she turned toward Tsugumi. "You still have that message, right?"
Tsugumi blinked. "Yeah... Don't tell me that—"
"Tell them we accept," Ran said, her tone steady. "It's time for Afterglow to step up."
Tsugumi's eyes widened, then softened. "You mean White Fox Studios?"
Ran nodded. After their last performance at CiRCLE, the studio had extended an offer—one week to decide. Ran had just made that decision for them.
Tomoe grinned, leaning back on the couch. "About damn time. Let's show 'em what we got."
Moca stretched with a yawn. "Guess I should start waking up earlier now~."
Himari jumped to her feet, trying to rally everyone. "Yosh! This is the next step for Afterglow! Everybody, say it with me—EI EI OH!!!"
She raised her fist into the air... but no one followed. The silence was deafening.
"Why did you not follow me?!" Himari cried, pouting as the rest burst into laughter.
Tsurumaki Mansion
At the Tsurumaki estate, chaos had its own flavor. Kokoro was bouncing on the sofa, practically glowing with joy.
"YAY!!! Now I get to see onii-chan play again!!"
Misaki sighed from the corner. "But that means Riku-san won't have time for school. You won't get to hug him every day like before."
Kokoro froze mid-jump. The realization struck her like a lightning bolt. She gasped, then placed both hands on her cheeks, her voice echoing through the mansion.
"OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!"
Kaoru crossed her arms with dramatic flair. "A tragic consequence indeed. But alas, this is ani-sama's path. As his dear sister, I shall support him to the end. Perhaps... I'll even save enough to see one of his tournaments after graduation."
Hagumi nodded energetically. "That's a great idea, Kaoru-kun! Kano-chan-senpai, are you okay?"
Kanon didn't respond. Her eyes were glued to the screen, cheeks tinted pink. She looked utterly lost in the image of Riku on stage.
Misaki raised a brow. "Kanon-san... don't tell me you have a crush on Riku-san now?"
"Fueh?!" Kanon nearly leapt out of her seat.
Kokoro gasped. "Eh?! Kanon likes onii-chan?! That means she'll be my onee-chan!"
"FUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH?!?!" Kanon wailed, waving her hands frantically.
And then—
"She will not, you idiot!!"
Everyone froze. Shinzo had appeared out of nowhere, her deadpan glare enough to freeze the room solid.
Shinzo blinked, tilting her head. "Why are you all staring at me funny?"
Pastel✽Palettes – Purely Promotions Office
Meanwhile, at Purely Promotions, the girls of Pastel✽Palettes were gathered around Maya's phone during their break, watching the replay with wide eyes.
Aya clasped her hands together. "Sugoi... Riku-kun..."
Chisato crossed her legs, her tone cool but soft. "I hope you know what you're doing, onii-sama."
Maya chuckled lightly. "Come on, Chisato-san. Have some faith in him. He's Riku-san."
Hina leaned closer to the screen. "Wait—does that mean Riku-kun has to drop out of school?"
Everyone froze at her question.
Eve's eyes widened. "You're right! If Riku-san's going pro again, he won't have time for school!"
Chisato sighed, brushing her hair aside. "Let's just see how it plays out." But her tone hinted she was wondering the same thing.
Poppin'Party – Arisa's House
At Arisa's place, chaos reigned the second the words "I, Iku, will be returning to competitive music" came through the speakers.
Kasumi and Tae dropped their glasses in sync. "No way!!! Senpai's going back to the pros!!"
Rimi's eyes darted nervously. "Then what about school? What about Rinko-senpai?"
Saaya turned toward Arisa, looking serious. "Does the school have any alternative for this?"
Arisa adjusted her glasses, trying to keep her composure. "I don't know. I'll have to hear from Yuyuko-san for this one. And—OI! O-TAE!! DON'T PULL THAT OUT!!"
Tae had already started unplugging something from the TV setup.
Yashio Residence
In a much quieter corner of the city, Rui sat in her dimly lit living room, a cup of tea steaming beside her. The television's light flickered across her calm face as Riku's announcement replayed once more.
"Riku..." she whispered.
Her gaze drifted toward her violin resting in its stand. Slowly, she set down her cup, rose from her chair, and reached for it. The moment her fingers touched the strings, something within her stirred.
"I have no time to slack off," she murmured, eyes sharp with focus. "Kurata-san and the others are counting on me."
She turned off the television, and the quiet hum of her bow against the strings filled the air. The music that followed was soft, precise—filled with determination rather than emotion.
Hakugyokurou
Within the misty gardens of Hakugyokurou, Yuyuko listened to the news through a small radio. The serene air of the mansion was broken only by the soft sound of her fan fluttering open.
"My, my..." she said with a teasing smile. "Looks like Riku-kun made his move sooner than I thought."
Her lips curved into a knowing grin as she chuckled. "Ufufufu~ I suppose I'll have to prepare something special for him."
She turned her eyes toward the endless cherry blossoms outside—gentle, timeless, and quietly watching the world shift once again.
Everywhere across Japan—and even beyond—the announcement sent ripples through hearts, dreams, and ambitions. Some were thrilled, others anxious, but one truth was shared among them all: Riku's return marked the beginning of a new era.
And no one, not even Riku himself, could predict where it would lead.
The room pulsed with a storm of camera flashes, the hum of whispered speculation blending with the whir of lenses and the soft clicks of recording devices. Every angle sought to capture Riku—composed, resolute, the calm center of the chaos—as he stood beneath the spotlights that made his violet hair shimmer like brushed steel. His announcement had detonated across the room like a spark in dry air, and the reporters wasted no time pouncing on every word that followed.
Questions flew in rapid succession, voices overlapping until one clear thread emerged: what band would Riku join next? With a measured exhale, he leaned toward the microphone, his voice even but carrying the quiet weight of conviction. He confirmed that his loyalty remained with OG, that he would stand by them as both musician and guardian—stepping in should one of their core members falter, and managing the unseen details that kept the band alive offstage.
It was a promise layered with balance. Commitment without surrender, duty without self-erasure. His reasoning was precise—this arrangement would allow him to honor his responsibilities at school, and to his family, while still keeping a pulse on the band that had shaped so much of his identity. The reporters scribbled furiously, the words discipline and dedication practically etching themselves into every notebook in the room.
Then came the question everyone had waited for: when would he return to perform? Riku met their gaze, a faint smile tugging at the edge of his lips. He said he intended to return before The International 11, the world's largest stage, now set to be held in Japan. His voice grew firmer as he spoke of playing before his home crowd—an unspoken promise of pride, not just for OG, but for the country that had watched him rise from quiet prodigy to global phenomenon.
When Johan stepped up to close the session, the mood shifted again. His announcement rippled through the room with its own kind of electricity—OG's expansion into new creative frontiers. Their DJ unit was slated to debut at Alien DJ Masters in Dallas this September, while the Idol group would make its entrance at the Love Live Main Show the following month. The revelation sent a renewed wave of flashes across the room, the excitement almost tangible.
As the press conference drew to an end, Minene offered her thanks to both men for holding the event at TV Tokyo. Riku, half-laughing and half-serious, replied that their gratitude could be shown by giving their best at TI. Johan clapped him on the shoulder in agreement before mentioning that he had to catch an early flight to Arlington the next day—his expression already betraying the list of preparations waiting for him once he landed.
When the cameras finally stopped clicking and the air began to settle, the exhaustion that followed adrenaline started to creep in. Staff began packing up equipment, murmurs replacing the earlier frenzy. The conference had been a success—clean, professional, and stirring. Yet beneath it all, there lingered that quiet ache of hunger shared by every soul in the room.
Minene was the first to voice it, half-jokingly clutching her stomach. The suggestion of food spread like wildfire. One by one, everyone agreed that they'd earned a moment of reprieve, a small reward after the high-tension hours. Someone mentioned Geitondei—a familiar spot known for its late-night atmosphere and food that could chase off even the heaviest fatigue.
And just like that, the decision was made.
Geitondei – 3:00 P.M.
Riku's POV
By the time we reached Geitondei, the noise spilling out from inside was something between a brawl and a festival gone wrong. Aichi, Keigo, and I exchanged glances before rushing in—half out of concern, half out of disbelief.
The sight that greeted us was chaos draped in laughter. Suika and Yuugi sat triumphantly atop a pile of unconscious men, the two oni roaring with unrestrained mirth. The smell of alcohol was thick enough to burn the throat.
"ONE MORE BOTTLE, MIYOI!!! GAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Yuugi howled, slamming her cup down hard enough to rattle the counter.
"YAHAHAHAHA! MORE BOOZE! MORE BOOZE!!!" Suika echoed, waving her gourd like a trophy.
Behind me, the girls froze mid-step, mouths hanging open.
"...What the fuck?" Nico and Shinobu said in unison.
Umi covered her mouth, horrified. "H-how shameless..."
Honoka, on the other hand, was already grinning. "That looks like fun!"
Aichi sighed. "Trust me, Honoka, it's not."
Keigo rubbed his temples. "What the hell just happened here?"
I scanned the room, looking for Miyoi, and found her near the bar—eyes red and brimming with tears while Shishido tried to comfort her. The moment she noticed me, she broke free and threw herself into my arms, crying harder.
"Riku-kun!!!" she wailed, clinging to me like a lifeline.
"Uh... Shishido-san, what happened here?" I asked, carefully patting her shoulder.
Shishido gave a helpless sigh. "Well, things got a little... spirited. Some of the customers challenged Yuugi and Suika to a drinking contest."
Aichi pinched the bridge of his nose. "Not exactly the brightest idea."
"Yeah," Shishido continued. "And not even four bottles in, they started dropping like flies. The thing is... they were drinking Yuugi-san's own brew."
All three of us—Aichi, Keigo, and I—visibly shuddered. Even the name was enough to make our stomachs tighten.
Nozomi tilted her head. "Is it really that bad?"
Keigo turned toward her, his tone grim. "Yuugi's sake is brewed exclusively for youkai. Even a sip can knock out a human for two weeks. Worst case? They don't wake up for months." He sighed. "Aniki, I think it's better if—actually, I'll handle it."
Before I could respond, Keigo was already pulling out his phone.
Esora blinked. "Kei-chan, who are you calling?"
I smirked faintly. "Probably Eirin-san." Then, turning to Shishido, I asked, "So... I'm guessing the place is closed?"
Shishido nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. We have to shut down early. Those two emptied our pantry dry."
He gestured toward Yuugi and Suika, who were now sprawled out on the floor, snoring with matching grins. I could only sigh, the weight of disappointment hitting me harder than expected.
"I see. That's a shame. Guess we'll just—"
Before I could suggest heading back to the estate, my phone started buzzing. Miyoi loosened her grip, and I slipped the device out of my pocket. The caller ID surprised me.
"...Joichiro-san?" I muttered, answering. "Hello?"
"Yo, Riku!" came his familiar, laid-back voice. "Listen, can I ask you a favor?"
"That depends on the favor," I replied cautiously.
He chuckled. "Nothing too crazy. I just need you to drop by Yukihira—check on Soma for me, see what the kid's up to."
I blinked. "Why not do it yourself?"
"I'd love to, but I'm halfway across India right now," he said matter-of-factly. "Catching a breath between jobs."
I couldn't help but smile wryly. Classic Joichiro. Never one to stay in one place. I still remembered the stories my father told me—how the man would drag him around the world on cooking pilgrimages that ended in half a dozen legendary kitchens.
"So your son's at the diner, huh? Does that mean it's open?" I asked.
"That depends on him," he said with a laugh. "He can open it if he wants to. Assuming he can handle the rush alone."
"Got it," I said. "I'll head over there. I've got a few hungry people with me."
"Perfect," Joichiro replied, amusement coloring his tone. "Alright, my break's over. Appreciate the help, kid. Talk to you later."
The call ended. I slipped my phone back into my pocket, a small grin forming.
"I know where we can eat," I announced, turning to the group. "But you'll need to hold your appetites a bit longer."
Keigo raised a brow. "Is it any good?"
"Good?" I laughed under my breath. "The place is owned by a Totsuki alumnus."
That got an instant reaction. Aichi, Kotori, and Eli's eyes lit up like fireworks. The rest of the group looked confused, trying to piece together why those three suddenly looked like kids promised free candy.
"Alright," I said, motioning toward the door. "Let's not waste time. Yukihira might close if we take too long."
"Right," Keigo agreed. He turned back toward Shishido and Miyoi, who were already trying to clean up the disaster left behind. "Shishido-san, Miyoi-san, Eirin-sensei's team will be here soon to take care of the drunkards."
Shishido exhaled in relief. "Thanks, really. Me and Miyo will handle the rest."
Miyoi, still sniffling, managed a small smile as she waved us off. I gave her a gentle pat on the head before stepping out.
The street outside was warm and alive with midafternoon light. The air felt lighter now that we had a destination—a promise of food, maybe laughter, definitely peace after the storm we'd just walked through.
As we made our way down the narrow Tokyo street, I caught fragments of conversation behind me. Aichi was explaining to Honoka what Totsuki Academy was, complete with an impromptu history lesson about world-class chefs. Nico was teasing Shinobu for nearly fainting at the smell of sake, and Keigo was on his phone again, probably confirming that Eirin's team was already en route.
For a moment, I just let the sound of their voices wash over me—the banter, the mismatched rhythms of their steps, the casual energy of people who'd somehow found their way into each other's orbit.
By the time the neon glow of the Yukihira sign came into view, that earlier frustration had long since melted away. The day might've started with chaos, but as usual, it was finding its way toward something far better.
Maybe that was just how life worked. Sometimes the messes led you right to where you were supposed to be.
----------
Yukihira Diner – 3:45 P.M.
It took us about half an hour to reach Yukihira Diner, and when we finally arrived, I could only stare at the building in front of us. The sign looked faded, the paint was peeling from the wooden walls, and the whole place had the quiet, lived-in feel of somewhere that had seen too many summers and too few repairs.
Eli squinted at the entrance, uncertainty written all over her face. "Dear, are you sure this is the place?"
The word dear drew a few sharp glances from Peakey P-key and Keigo, but none of us said anything. I just chuckled softly.
"Yeah, this is the place," I said. "Joichiro-san told me himself. Guess he doesn't care much about appearances."
Keigo crossed his arms, giving a small nod. "Aniki's right. The best food usually comes from the places that don't look like much."
"Exactly," I said, stepping forward. "So, let's head—wait. Erina?"
The door swung open before I could finish, and standing right there was Erina herself.
"N-Nii-sama?" she blurted, her eyes widening in surprise.
Behind her, I could see Soma standing behind the counter, casually sharpening his knife.
Soma looked up with a grin. "Oh! Riku-san! Welcome! Here to eat?"
"Yeah," I said, stepping inside. "Your dad asked me to check in, make sure you're doing alright."
Soma blinked. "Oyaji sent you?"
Erina's eyes widened as well. "Saiba-sama sent you here?"
"Yup," I said simply. Then I glanced at Erina. "And what about you? What brings the Nakiri princess to a small diner like this?"
She straightened, trying to keep her composure. "Ojii-sama wanted me to experience more outside my comfort zone. Soma-kun volunteered to help... so I took the offer."
I gave a small approving nod. "Progress, huh. Anyone else with you?"
Soma wiped his knife and leaned against the counter. "The Polar Star first years are here too, but they're out shopping right now. Should be back soon."
"So that means it's just the two of you here..." I said, letting the implication hang. "Don't tell me—"
Before I could finish, both Erina and Soma turned bright red.
Erina shook her head furiously. "We're not what you're thinking, nii-sama!"
Behind me, Eli cleared her throat. "Um... can we come in or...?"
Both of them peeked past me and froze when they saw the fifteen people waiting outside.
Soma blinked. "Whoa. That's... a lot of people."
"Yeah," I said with a grin. "And we're starving."
Soma grinned back, tying his headband as he turned on the stove. "Well then, come on in! I'll cook you up a storm. Erina! Bring them in!"
"Don't order me around!" she snapped, but then sighed. "Anyway, nii-sama, follow me."
We filed into the diner, taking up nearly every seat available. Keigo and the Peakey girls claimed one table, Aichi sat with Kotori, Honoka, and Umi, and Nico joined Hanayo, Rin, and Maki. I ended up at the corner table with Eli and Nozomi.
"Order whatever you like," I told them. "This one's on me."
Aichi smirked. "Don't mind if I do."
μ's knew what to do right away, flipping through the menu with the casual confidence of people who'd seen the inside of a kitchen or two. Keigo, on the other hand, didn't hesitate to aim straight for the high-end items.
Esora frowned a little. "Kei-chan, are you sure it's okay to order the expensive ones?"
Keigo shrugged. "Depends on your conscience. Aniki's paying, so might as well take advantage."
I shot him a look, but couldn't help the smirk tugging at my mouth. Thankfully, the prices weren't bad, and I had more than enough yen on me to cover a feast.
While everyone was figuring out what to get, I found myself watching Soma in his element. The way he moved behind that counter—steady, fluid, never missing a beat—reminded me of his father. Every slice, every toss of the pan had purpose. He wasn't the reckless show-off I'd met years ago; he was measured now, sharper in the quiet way that mastery always brings.
Across from him, Erina stood with her arms crossed, but her eyes never left him.
A small smirk crept onto my lips. "Like what you see, huh?"
Her head snapped toward me. "E-Eh!? It's not like that, nii-sama! It's just that... Soma-kun has improved so much, and I..."
"Feel like you're falling behind?" I finished for her, my tone gentler now.
She hesitated, then nodded slightly.
I reached over and gave her a quick pat on the head. "You're doing fine. You're growing at your own pace."
From across the diner, Honoka's curious voice broke the moment. "Hey, Aichi! What's Riku-san's relationship with her? She called him nii-sama!"
Aichi leaned back in his chair. "That's Nakiri Erina. She and Riku met years ago. She looks up to him like an older brother."
Umi blinked. "Nakiri... as in the Nakiri family? The culinary giant?"
"The very same," Aichi replied. "Normally, she's treated like royalty, but around Riku, she can actually act normal. Plus, she's a fan of his classical music."
Nozomi tilted her head thoughtfully. "Speaking of that, why did Rikucchi ever leave classical music for modern?"
Keigo, without missing a beat, leaned back in his chair. "Aniki wanted to do something new. The Nagae family's famous in classical circles—Kyoya-san practically defines the standard. But there's no Nagae legacy in modern music. Aniki decided to build that himself. To prove he could stand on his own, without leaning on the family name."
Aichi smiled faintly. "And he learned guitar from his sister for two years. Then he started competing solo and caught OG's eye at the end of 2016. The rest is history."
Their voices faded into a warm hum around me. I didn't need to add anything. They already understood what that choice meant.
Just then, the rich aroma of seared beef and butter filled the diner. Soma was moving fast now, his hands a blur as he plated dish after dish with practiced precision. The counter gleamed under the soft lights, and for a moment, even the usually chaotic group fell quiet.
When the food arrived, it came like a parade—each dish steaming and vibrant, served with a grin and a quick "enjoy!" from Soma himself.
I'd ordered the classic beef bowl, but asked for it to be as spicy as humanly possible. Soma had raised a brow at the request, but I'd just smiled. "I like my food to fight back."
Aichi, naturally, went for the Salisbury steak, while Keigo ordered the sweet version of my dish—something that matched his mellow taste better.
As everyone dug in, the chatter returned—softer this time, like the hum of an old tune played in good company. Between bites, I caught Erina glancing between Soma's easy smile and the satisfied faces of our group. She wasn't saying anything, but the look in her eyes said enough.
It was that quiet blend of pride and frustration—the kind that comes when you realize someone you used to look down on is now standing beside you, maybe even a step ahead.
The warm, savory air of the diner was thick with the scent of grilled meat and fragrant broth, the kind that could make even the most disciplined person's stomach growl. Plates clattered, steam curled toward the ceiling, and the faint hum of chatter filled the cozy little place.
At one table, three men—Riku, Aichi, and Keigo—sat with calm expressions, eyes closed, savoring every bite of their meal like monks in meditation. Across from them, the girls dug in eagerly, curious why the three were being so strangely composed.
It only took one mouthful for chaos to erupt.
A sharp squeal pierced through the diner.
Nico nearly jumped out of her seat. "What in the—!?"
Rin looked down at herself and yowled. "My clothes, nya~!"
Nozomi blinked, then smirked faintly. "Ara~ how unexpected."
Umi flushed crimson. "H-How did this happen!?"
Even Shinobu's calm snapped as she froze mid-bite. "What the hell?"
Within seconds, every girl—save for Kotori and Eli—was left sitting in stunned silence, their clothes having mysteriously vanished, leaving them in nothing but their underwear. A wave of embarrassment rippled through the group, followed immediately by sharp glares aimed straight at the unbothered trio across the table.
Riku didn't even flinch. "Yup. Happens every time someone eats food made by a Totsuki chef."
The girls gawked at him as they scrambled for their scattered clothes. Nico slammed her hands on the table. "Oi, why are you three bastards not affected!?"
Keigo snorted lightly, keeping his eyes closed. "Because we knew this would happen. It's kind of... tradition at this point."
Aichi nodded in quiet amusement. "You'd be surprised how often this happens. Take Kotori and Eli, for example." He gestured to the two blushing girls. "They were in full bliss when they tried that cheesecake last time. They passed out from it with smiles on their faces."
Kotori giggled nervously, rubbing her arm. Eli coughed, turning her face away with a tiny, embarrassed smile.
Maki frowned. "So if we take another bite, this won't happen again?"
Riku shrugged. "Yup. Once the first shock wears off, you're safe."
Esora tilted her head, curious. "And... why were you three closing your eyes?"
The men answered in perfect sync, utterly deadpan. "We don't want to get beat up."
That broke the tension. The girls' laughter filled the diner, light and genuine, even as they tried to cover themselves. Riku chuckled softly, shaking his head before calling out toward the counter.
"Yo, Soma! Got any spare rooms for the girls to get changed?"
Soma looked over his shoulder, spatula in hand. "Yeah, guest rooms are upstairs. Help yourselves."
The girls hurried up the stairs with their clothes clutched tight, muttering half-hearted threats as they disappeared from view. When the noise died down, Riku turned his gaze toward Erina, who had stayed behind with that composed, noble air of hers.
"So," Riku started, resting an elbow on the table, "how's Totsuki been since my last visit?"
Erina sighed, though there was a glint of pride behind her eyes. "The school's more lively than ever. Shokugeki matches have tripled, and the students are competing like their lives depend on it. As for the paperwork for the Elite Ten—thank you, by the way—we're not drowning in it anymore."
"Sounds like progress." Riku's tone softened. "How did everyone take it when they learned your father sided with the noirs?"
That shadow dimmed her expression. "Not well. Tsukasa-senpai especially."
Soma, still behind the counter, chimed in with a grin. "She means the current First Seat. Guy's a monster in the kitchen."
Erina nodded. "He admired my father deeply, not as a man, but as a chef. When he found out what happened, he locked himself in his room for two weeks. Rindo-senpai had to drag him out."
Keigo and Aichi exchanged a look, brows raised. Even Kotori and Eli, who'd returned mid-conversation, tilted their heads, puzzled by the sudden heaviness in the air.
Erina continued quietly, her fingers laced on the table. "Saito-senpai was disgusted. Eizan-senpai cut all business ties connected to my father. And Kinokuni-senpai..." she exhaled, "the Kinokuni family officially banned him from West Japan. It's... been a lot."
Riku nodded slowly. "And the rest of the Ten?"
"Megishima-senpai, Akanegakubo-senpai, Isshiki-senpai, and Kuga-senpai have chosen neutrality," she replied, her voice steady again. "They'll act if forced, but for now, they're staying clear of his mess. You don't need to worry, nii-sama—we'll handle this."
There was no hesitation in her tone, no trace of fear. Just quiet conviction.
Riku smiled faintly. "Then I'll trust you. But still..." He turned toward Soma. "Keep an eye on her."
Soma grinned. "Of course. Me and Arato'll make sure she doesn't work herself to death."
The girls soon returned, now properly dressed and looking more relaxed. They took their seats, laughing at their own earlier panic, and the table filled again with warmth, chatter, and the clinking of chopsticks.
Outside, the neon lights of the diner buzzed softly against the Tokyo night. Inside, Riku leaned back slightly, taking in the sight of friends—old and new—sharing good food and laughter.
For a brief moment, it felt like nothing else mattered.
----------
Yukihira Diner – Outside
5:00 P.M.
The evening air was crisp when we stepped out of Yukihira Diner, the scent of grilled miso and soy still lingering on our clothes. The meal had been good—better than good—and for once, there was that satisfying silence after laughter, where everyone's spirits seemed full.
One by one, the others said their goodbyes, the day's warmth still clinging to their smiles. Aichi, Keigo, and the rest were headed home to rest; next week was stacked with work, and we all needed the breather.
Eli and I lingered outside a bit longer, letting the soft orange light of the sunset spill across the quiet street. That's when I heard Soma's voice behind us.
"Hey, Riku-san!"
I turned, half-expecting him to have forgotten something. "Soma? You need something?"
He stood there, a little breathless, wiping his hands on his apron as Erina came up behind him, confusion written all over her face.
"Thank you," he said suddenly, bowing slightly. "For everything."
Both Eli and I blinked. Even Erina's eyes widened a bit at that.
"What did I do that deserves a thank you?" I asked, curious.
Soma scratched the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. "Back at the training camp, when I saw you bake, I realized how small my world really was. I thought being good enough to inherit oyaji's diner was all I needed. But watching you made me see there's more out there—so I started learning every kind of cuisine I could. I wanted to push myself."
I studied him for a second. There was no bluff in his voice—just raw determination. The kind of fire that doesn't fade easy.
"And?" I asked, folding my arms. "Did you learn from it?"
He nodded firmly. "I did."
A small smile tugged at my lips. "Good. Then I expect more from you at the Autumn Election. Don't worry about winning—just make sure you shock everyone. Show them that a diner boy like you can run with the best of them."
Soma's eyes burned with that trademark spark. He slammed a hand against his chest. "Hai! I won't let you down!"
"Yeah," I said, turning to leave, the corners of my mouth softening. "I know you won't. Erina—good luck in the Autumn Election."
She gave a confident nod. "Hai, nii-sama."
And with that, Eli and I walked off down the street. The neon signs were beginning to flicker to life, washing the sidewalk in streaks of blue and pink. For a moment, it felt like the city itself was exhaling after a long day.
Then my phone buzzed. I glanced down—grandfather's name flashed on the screen, the message short and urgent.
I sighed. "Guess we're cutting this walk short."
Eli tilted her head. "Something wrong?"
"Grandfather wants me home immediately." I tapped the ring on my left hand, and in a shimmer of blue light, the Universe Ring materialized in my palm.
Her eyes widened. "Dear, what is that?"
"The Universe Ring," I explained. "Tenshi made it. Aichi gave it to me about a month ago. It's faster than any car we've got."
Eli blinked, still half in awe. "And you're planning to use that now?"
"Might as well," I said, pulling out a spare helmet from the ring's internal storage. I handed it to her, then assembled the hovering stand beside the ring's gleaming handle. "Here. You'll stand on the side platform while I drive. It's safe, promise."
Eli hesitated for half a second before slipping on the helmet. "I trust you."
That was all I needed to hear. With a twist of the handle, the air hummed, and in a flash of starlight-blue energy, we shot forward—streaking across the Tokyo skyline, leaving a shimmering trail in our wake.
Nagae Estate
5:25 P.M.
By the time we arrived, the sun had all but dipped behind the hills, painting the estate in shades of violet and gold. The moment we landed, Eiji-san was already waiting by the entrance, ever punctual, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Welcome home, young master," he said with his usual calm tone. "Your grandfather is waiting for you in the living room."
I nodded, handing off my jacket. "Thanks, Eiji-san. Where are Rinko and Miyu?"
"Rinko-sama is staying over at Lisa-sama's," he replied. "And Miyu-sama is at Miiko-sama's home, watching movies with Lyrical Lily. They're safe."
"Got it." I motioned for Eli to go ahead. "You should get some rest. I'll join you later."
She smiled softly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear before heading toward her room. Once she disappeared upstairs, I made my way toward the living room—and froze at what I saw inside.
Grandfather was seated on the couch, cane resting beside him, his expression unreadable as ever. But that wasn't what caught my eye.
The rest of Hello, Happy World! was there too... and not one, but two Kokoros stood in front of him.
The first was the bright, bubbly girl everyone knew—radiant smile, sunshine in human form. The second, standing just beside her, looked almost identical—but her hair was a touch darker, and her eyes held a sharp, focused glint that didn't belong to the original.
"Alright," I said, stepping inside slowly, "what in the world happened here?"
Misaki looked like she hadn't slept in a week. "That's what we were hoping you'd tell us, Riku-san. Kokoro's been acting strange since earlier, and now..." She gestured helplessly at the second version of her bandmate. "This."
I turned to grandfather. "You already called Marisa or Alice, right?"
Kyoya nodded. "I did. They're on their way. I would've contacted Patchouli-kun, but..."
I grimaced. "Yeah, Patchy would've been perfect for this. But fine, we'll make do."
Shinzo—because that's who the second Kokoro clearly was—floated slightly off the ground, arms crossed. "It happened when you announced your return to OG," she explained, voice calm but layered with something deeper. "Kokoro got too happy. Her light side overwhelmed me, tried to overtake me completely. When Misaki told her she wouldn't see you like before, that light went into overdrive. I had to ditch my vessel to avoid being erased."
"So what we're seeing right now," I said, studying her form, "is your soul projection."
Shinzo gave a small nod. "More or less. It feels weird, though—like stretching a muscle that's been asleep too long."
Kanon tilted her head. "No wonder you were just floating beside Kokoro-chan."
Hagumi, curious as ever, reached out and touched Shinzo's hand—only to find it solid. "But... how come we can touch you?"
"She can choose," I said, glancing at Shinzo. "Soul projections can decide whether they're tangible or not. Depends on their energy flow. Kokoro's light must've stabilized her form enough for that."
Kaoru, leaning against the back of the sofa, sighed. "Kokoro is focusing on suppressing her light. She asked us not to disturb her, so I fear, ani-sama, you won't get much out of her now."
Shinzo gave a dry chuckle. "She's right. Kokoro's barely holding it together. If she slips again, her light might expand further—and I don't know what that'll do to either of us."
The air grew heavier. Misaki bit her lip, looking from Kokoro to Shinzo, clearly torn between worry and exhaustion. Even grandfather's expression tightened slightly.
I crouched down beside Shinzo's projection, studying the faint shimmer at the edges of her form. "If you stay separated too long, your essence could destabilize," I murmured. "Not just your physical form, but your bond with Kokoro herself."
"I know," Shinzo said softly, her voice carrying both acceptance and fear. "But right now, I can't return—not until Kokoro's light calms down."
Who would've thought things could spiral this fast? The living room was tense, like the air itself didn't want to breathe. I paced back and forth across the tatami floor, trying to piece together what to do next, when a yellow glyph suddenly flickered into existence near the center of the room. The circle pulsed once, twice—then burst open in a flash of light.
Out from it stepped a girl with golden hair under a black witch's hat, her grin far too pleased for the chaos surrounding us.
"YOSHA! The transfer circle is a success, ze~!"
I blinked, recognizing the voice immediately. "Marisa?"
She spun on her heel and spotted me. "Oh! Riku! Guess I hit the right coordinates after all. Heh, my aim's improving." She adjusted her hat and waved lazily at my grandfather. "So then, Kyoya-san—what's the sitch, ze~?"
Grandfather leaned back in his seat, cane balanced across his lap. "It's about Kokoro. We're dealing with a strange phenomenon involving her and... her counterpart. Do you have any ideas?"
Kanon whispered beside me, "Riku-kun, who is she?"
"Kirisame Marisa," I replied, trying not to sound too resigned. "One of my closest friends. And one of the best magicians in Japan."
Marisa gave a theatrical bow before striding over to where Kokoro and Shinzo were standing. She crouched down slightly, squinting, her gloved fingers tracing the faint magical outline around them.
"Hmm... odd aura synchronization," she muttered, pulling a small book from her bag and flipping through pages at speed only she could manage. "Dark and light essence sharing the same core frequency—yep, that's rare. Oh ho! Found something!"
Her eyes gleamed as she turned to Shinzo. "Oi, Shinzo. Since you and Kokoro are one and the same, how about you tether to her?"
Shinzo tilted her head. "Tether?"
"Think of it like an invisible line," Marisa explained, holding her index finger up like a wand. "Once you're connected, you can send your dark magic to balance her light, and she'll send some of her light magic back to you. A nice two-way channel. Keeps both your energies stable so you can coexist without tearing each other apart. Pretty neat, huh?"
Kanon and Hagumi exchanged bewildered looks. Kaoru crossed her arms, clearly pretending she understood. Misaki, however, frowned thoughtfully.
"So basically," she said, "as long as they're connected, they'll be fine?"
"Exactly!" Marisa said, snapping her fingers. "That's what I said, ze~."
I stepped forward, rubbing my chin. "What about range? If they move too far apart, won't the tether snap?"
Marisa grinned, as if I'd just asked her favorite question. "We're about to find out. Shinzo, give it a shot. Focus your magic and picture a line connecting you to Kokoro."
Shinzo nodded, closing her eyes. A faint hum filled the room. Then—slowly—a black thread of magic began to form, flowing out from her chest and extending toward Kokoro. The air shimmered as it made contact, and from Kokoro's body, light magic flared in response, intertwining with Shinzo's dark aura like two halves of the same heartbeat.
The thread pulsed once.
Then twice.
Kokoro's lashes fluttered, and she stirred.
"Eh? Where... am I?" she murmured softly.
I knelt beside her. "You're at the Nagae estate, Kokoro."
She blinked blearily, then recognized my voice. "Onii-chan... I—"
Before she could spiral into guilt, I gently placed a hand on her head. "Don't. Don't take the blame."
"But I slipped up," she said quietly, her voice trembling. "If I'd controlled my light better, Shinzo wouldn't—"
"Didn't nii say not to blame yourself, baka-ane?" Shinzo interrupted, crossing her arms.
Kokoro's eyes widened. "W–wait, what did you call me? Did you just say... big sister?"
Shinzo shrugged, pretending not to care. "Got a problem with that?"
Kokoro froze, mouth open, unable to process what she just heard. Shinzo sighed and reached out, giving her a small, almost affectionate pat on the head—the same way I had moments earlier.
"Yare yare," she said softly, her faint smile breaking through the cool exterior.
It was subtle, but the atmosphere lightened immediately. Even Misaki let out a quiet sigh of relief.
"So, what happens now?" she asked.
Marisa closed her book with a thud. "Now? We test the limits of that tether. I wanna see how far it can stretch before it weakens. But..." She turned to me. "We'll need some distance to test it properly."
I nodded. "Then let's try this—teleport Shinzo to the Hakugyokurou. If Yuyuko-san or Youmu ask why, just say it's an experiment I requested."
Marisa grinned. "Oh? You're giving me permission to mess with your contacts? I like this plan already! C'mon, Shinzo."
"Right," Shinzo said, grabbing Marisa's hand. A golden circle expanded beneath their feet, and in a blink, both vanished.
A few seconds later, my phone buzzed. I answered immediately. "Riku."
Marisa's voice came through, slightly crackled. "Riku, how's it looking on your end?"
"The connection's still stable," I said, glancing at the faint black-and-white thread still visible between Shinzo's and Kokoro's chests. "Any issues there?"
"None," she replied cheerfully. "Well... except Youmu nearly sliced Shinzo in half when we popped up. But don't worry! She apologized!"
I rubbed my temple. "Of course she did. Since the link's holding, let's try something farther. How about you teleport to the Hakurei Shrine?"
There was a pause. Then, an exasperated groan. "You want me to what? Riku, do you have a death wish for me and Shinzo? You do remember she's got PTSD because of Reimu, right?"
I froze, then winced. Right. How could I forget that incident?
When Shinzo had manifested for the first time, Reimu hadn't exactly shown restraint. "Exorcism first, questions later," that was Reimu's way. She'd struck without hesitation, hard enough to nearly destroy Shinzo's vessel. If I hadn't intervened, it would've been a killing blow. Even after that, Reimu kept her guard up, promising to end Shinzo the moment she posed a threat to Kokoro again. Ever since, Shinzo couldn't even look at her without shaking.
"...Fair point," I muttered. "Forget the shrine. How about the Myouren Temple? Byakuren-sama might want to meet Shinzo anyway."
Marisa chuckled. "Now that's an idea I can live with. Alright, we're heading there next."
The line clicked off, and I slipped the phone back into my pocket.
Misaki, ever the responsible one, turned to me. "Riku-san, what exactly is Kirisame-san doing with Shinzo now?"
"She's testing the tether's range," I explained. "We know it's fine when Shinzo's at the Hakugyokurou—so next she's trying Kansai. If it holds, that'll tell us how far their bond can stretch without breaking."
Kanon looked at me nervously. "And if it doesn't hold?"
"Then Shinzo snaps back here like a slingshot," I said simply. "Painful, but not fatal."
They didn't look reassured.
I leaned against the doorway, glancing at Kokoro, who was quietly watching the glowing thread connected to her chest. "You okay?"
She nodded faintly. "I can feel her. It's... warm. Like she's still here, even though she's not."
"That's the idea," I said softly. "It means it's working."
A faint hum filled the air again—Kokoro's light resonating in sync with Shinzo's distant pulse. The two forces intertwined gently, creating a steady rhythm that filled the room like quiet music.
The girls of HaroHapi nodded quietly to my words just as a golden light pulsed in the middle of the room. A second later, Marisa appeared with Shinzo in tow—and behind them was a small army of floating trays and enchanted boxes overflowing with food.
Hagumi's eyes sparkled like fireworks. "That's a lot of food!!!"
Kanon's voice trembled as she looked at the mountain of dishes. "Fueeeeh... how are we even supposed to finish all that?"
I pinched the bridge of my nose and gave Marisa a look. "Marisa... didn't you and Shinzo go to the Myouren Temple?"
Marisa puffed out her chest proudly, her hat tilting at a confident angle. "We did, ze~! But when Byakuren saw Shinzo, she was ecstatic. Said it was a blessing to see a being born of darkness walking willingly into a sacred place. We expected a light meal, maybe some tea, but instead—bam! A full-blown feast! She insisted we take some back since we had to leave early."
Shinzo nodded, a little overwhelmed by the attention she'd received.
Marisa smirked. "Oh, and by the way—Kuroka's officially joined the Myouren Temple. She's part of their order now."
Grandfather and I both froze, exchanging glances. So that's why Kuroka hadn't been around lately. I could practically see the realization settling in his eyes too. Guess she finally found her home.
"I see," I murmured, crossing my arms. "So, what's the status on Shinzo?"
Marisa adjusted her hat again, flipping through the notes in her grimoire. "No major changes. But the tether limits her use of magic now. My theory? The farther she is from Kokoro, the more her magic weakens—"
Grandfather finished her thought. "—but the closer they are to one another..."
"...they'll be near unstoppable," I finished.
The three of us—me, Marisa, and Kyoya—shared a look of understanding. Something new had just clicked into place, a possibility that could shift the balance in future danmaku battles.
Kyoya's voice broke the silence first. "For now, we should have something to verify Shinzo-kun's existence. I'll request Okina-dono's assistance."
"Good idea." I turned toward Kokoro, who had been quietly watching Shinzo out of the corner of her eye. "And Kokoro, as the older sister, it's your responsibility to take care of her."
Kokoro jumped to her feet with a salute sharp enough to cut air. "HAI! I WILL NOT LET YOU DOWN, ONII-CHAN! I'LL BE THE GREATEST BIG SISTER SHINZO EVER HAS!"
Shinzo groaned softly, rubbing her temple as if she could already feel a headache coming on. Misaki patted her back with a sympathetic sigh.
Kaoru arched an eyebrow, arms crossed with practiced elegance. "So... what's our next step?"
"For now?" I gave a half-smile. "We eat. Can't let Byakuren's generosity go to waste."
Grandfather chuckled, already calling over one of the staff. "Quite right. Eiji, bring the workers here and get the food ready."
Eiji-san bowed and left, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. Within minutes, the staff arrived to arrange the dishes Marisa and Shinzo had brought—an impressive spread of neatly arranged plates, steaming bowls, and desserts glimmering like small works of art.
Marisa accepted Grandfather's invitation to stay for dinner without hesitation. "Wouldn't dream of saying no, ze~! Free food always tastes better with company!"
Dinner unfolded like a calm after a storm. The air was filled with the scent of spices and the hum of quiet conversation. Most of what Marisa had brought leaned toward health and balance—steamed vegetables, tofu, rice, and fragrant soup. Vegetarian dishes made up half the table, courtesy of Byakuren's influence.
Not my usual fare, but I wasn't about to complain. A meal's a meal, and it was damn good.
After dinner, Grandfather offered for the girls to stay the night. They declined politely—parents waiting, responsibilities, the usual things that tie you back to reality. So Eiji prepared the van to drive them home. Marisa, on the other hand, was already vanishing into a swirl of light, eager to share her findings with Alice before the night got too deep.
Just before leaving, Shinzo lingered by the door. She turned to me with a rare seriousness in her tone.
"Nii, I want you to train me."
Her words landed like a spark in dry wood—quick, sharp, and alive with potential.
A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. "Alright, I can do that. But you're bringing Kokoro with you. I want to see if the two of you can actually work together against me."
Shinzo's mouth quirked into a determined grin. "Deal. When do we start?"
"Tomorrow." I crossed my arms. "Rest up tonight and come prepared. And just so you know, I won't hold back."
"Wouldn't have it any other way," she said, voice steady with confidence that surprised even Kokoro.
They left soon after, the headlights of the van fading beyond the estate gates. The air turned quieter, filled only by the faint whisper of crickets and the rustle of trees. Grandfather stayed beside me, hands behind his back, eyes calm but sharp.
"You've got a plan for Shinzo-kun's training, don't you?" he asked quietly.
"I do," I admitted, gazing toward the dark sky. "But it's not just training. I want to test something."
Grandfather gave a low hum of approval. "As long as someone oversees it."
"They will," I said. "I'll make sure of it."
His expression softened just slightly, pride hidden behind his usual composure. "Then I'll leave it to you, Riku."
We turned back toward the manor, the golden lights spilling through the shoji doors. A long day behind us, and a longer one waiting on the horizon.
Tomorrow would bring challenges, answers, maybe even new dangers—but for now, the night belonged to silence and calm. And for the first time in a while, I let myself enjoy it.
Because I knew this peace wouldn't last. Not for someone like me.
Meanwhile…Third POV
Far from the quiet lights of Tokyo, beyond the orderly streets and familiar rhythm of the capital, the scene shifts eastward—into Chiba, where land stretches wider and silence carries weight. Nestled deep within a wooded estate stood a sprawling Japanese-style mansion, its dark tiled roofs and towering gates exuding an air of authority… and something far less welcoming.
This was the main house of the Nagae Branch Family.
Even from the outside, the mansion felt oppressive, as if the walls themselves were steeped in old secrets and unspoken crimes. Lanterns lined the stone pathways, their dim light failing to fully chase away the shadows clinging to the structure. Inside, the halls were vast and cold, polished wood floors reflecting nothing but darkness. Every step taken within echoed too loudly, as though the house demanded to be heard.
Deep within the mansion—far from guest rooms and ceremonial halls—there existed a chamber meant not for living guests, but for discarded ones.
Chains rattled softly in the corner of the room.
A young man, no older than his early twenties, sat slumped against the wall. His body was bound by heavy restraints carved with sealing glyphs, his clothing torn and soaked with dried blood. Bruises marred his skin, some old, some new—each one a testament to prolonged cruelty rather than a single act of violence. His breathing was shallow, uneven.
Nagae Shinichi.
Grandson of the Nagae Branch Family head.
Unconscious. Broken. Forgotten.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor outside the cell—slow, deliberate. Two figures emerged from the shadows beyond the iron bars. Their faces remained hidden beneath darkness and intent, but their eyes glowed unnaturally, piercing through the gloom. One burned with a deep, ominous red. The other gleamed gold, sharp and calculating.
"You got what we need?" the man with crimson eyes asked, his gaze never leaving Shinichi's battered form.
"Yes," the gold-eyed man replied calmly. "And they were generous enough to ensure the package was perfectly preserved. Honestly… impressive."
A low hum of interest followed. "To think they possess the means to transport something like that from another plane."
The crimson-eyed man folded his arms. "If word of this gets out, it'll be catastrophic. This alone violates more than half of their sacred restrictions."
A pause.
"And yet," the gold-eyed man said coldly, black lightning crackling faintly across his body, "you still went along with it."
"Because we're already past the point of retreat," the other answered without hesitation.
The air grew heavier as the red-eyed man stepped closer to the bars. "Everything has led to this moment. With the gathering of the Celestial Families, the world is primed for change. A new era will rise—whether they like it or not."
Unbeknownst to them, something stirred behind the chains.
Shinichi's fingers twitched. Pain flooded back into his senses as consciousness clawed its way to the surface. His vision swam, blurred shapes barely registering as voices echoed in his ears. He understood enough. More than enough.
His fate was sealed.
A weak breath escaped his lips. Summoning the last fragments of strength he had left, Shinichi forced his mouth to move. His voice was barely more than a whisper, hoarse and trembling.
"Riku…"
Both men paused, eyes narrowing.
"I'm sorry…" Shinichi murmured, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "I did what I could… please…"
His vision darkened. His body could no longer obey him.
"Take care of my mother…"
The words faded into silence as his head slumped forward, darkness reclaiming him entirely.
The two figures stared at him for a moment longer.
"…It begins soon," the crimson-eyed man said quietly.
The lanterns flickered. Shadows swallowed the room whole.
And somewhere far away, unaware of what had just transpired, the future shifted—ever so slightly—toward inevitable conflict.
To Be Continued…