When I open my eyes, nothing is there.
No ceiling. No blankets. No bed. Just—white.
Not even white, exactly. More like someone deleted the world and forgot to put in a replacement texture. I look down and see my body, my Blue jacket, my hands when I raise them in front of my face. But there's no floor under my feet, nothing pressing back when I shift my weight, no sound when I move.
"...What the hell..?"
My voice drops out of my mouth and dies. No echo.
I turn in a slow circle, then a faster one when that only shows me the same smooth nothing in every direction. No doors, no walls, not even a shadow. Wherever I look, there's just...more of this.
"Okay.." I say aloud, mostly to prove I still can talk. "Think, Shidou. You were in bed. You ate ketchup, Then went to sleep. Now you're uh... here."
My heartbeat starts to climb.
"Did I die again? Is this—"
"nah kid..."
The voice comes from behind me, casual and flat, like someone answering a question in homeroom.
I spin so fast I nearly fall forward.
There's someone standing there now.
Short. Broad shoulders in a baggy blue hoodie. Black shorts. Slippers. Hands buried in the front pocket. Completely relaxed.
And instead of a face, a white skull.
Empty sockets. A little row of blocky teeth. One socket lit from within by a faint, cold blue light.
I just stare at him. My brain makes a heroic effort and manages to produce:
"...What....."
The skeleton lifts one finger and gives me a lazy little salute.
"sup, pal?"
A second passes.
Then everything catches up at once.
"W-Wait—what are you? Where is this? Who are you? Am I dead? Did I get spacequaked again? Is this some Ratatoskr thing—"
"whoa there." He makes a patting motion with his other hand. "easy, kid. one crisis at a time. i'd say take a seat, but, uh." He glances at the featureless "ground." "no chairs."
I shut my mouth, drag in a breath that doesn't feel satisfying, and force myself to slow down. Ask the basic stuff. That's what Reine would tell me.
"...Okay," I say, swallowing. "Let's uh... start simple. Where is this?"
He lifts his shoulders in a shrug.
"call it... a waiting room in your head," he says. "little pocket between your soul and your brain. not quite dream, not quite reality. kinda liminal. very interesting."
I look around again. Same nothing in every direction. Same sense of something under my feet that isn't actually there.
"...Inside my head.." I repeat.
"pretty much," he says. "hope the rent's not too high landlord." He said grinning ear to ear.
"That's not funny," I say automatically.
"eh." He shrugs. "i've told worse jokes."
I rub my palm over my face, then drop my hand and look at him again.
"Okay. Next question." I jab a finger toward him. "What.... are you?"
He pats his own chest—ribcage—whatever.
"name's sans," he says. "sans the skeleton. monster and brother by birth, part time comedian by choice, currently: deceased." He taps his skull with a knuckle. "these days, i'm... hitchin' a ride."
A chill trickles down my spine.
"...Hitching a ride," I repeat. "On me?"
"yep." He points two fingers at my forehead. "woke up in here after i, uh. stopped being alive elsewhere. no consent forms, no user agreement. just 'hey, new landlord.'"
My skin crawls.
"So you're dead," I say slowly. "And instead of going wherever dead people are supposed to go, you ended up—" I gesture around. "—in this...room inside me."
"that's the gist," he says. "don't ask me about the fine print. Even I fully don't understand it to the bone"
This should feel completely insane. And it does. But at the same time, somewhere deep in my chest, something about him is horribly familiar.
Short skeleton. Blue Hoodie. Slouch. The cadence of his voice.
A hallway.
A line of sunlight on the floor. Bones erupting in rows. A small human shape walking forward, over and over and over, splattered in red. A skeleton at the far end of the hall, hands in his pockets, eyes tired.
My stomach flips.
"I've... seen you," I hear myself say.
He stops. The light in his socket flickers.
"oh?" he says, head tilting. "in a dream, i'm guessin'?"
"Not just one," I say. My chest feels tight. "There was this...corridor. Long. Bright. There were bones everywhere, and they kept...spiking up from the floor." I swallow, throat dry. "There was a girl. Covered in blood. She kept coming. It didn't matter what hit her. She just—walked. You were at the end. You kept throwing everything at her. You wouldn't stop, and she wouldn't stop, and..."
I shut my eyes for a second as the last image slams into me.
"...In the end she caught you," I mutter. "One swing. Then..."
Silence stretches for a beat.
"yeah," he says quietly.
When I open my eyes again, he's closer. Not right in front of me, but near enough that I can see faint cracks along his cheekbones. The lazy smirk is much dimmer.
"we're not watchin' that one again," he says. "bad ratings. terrible ending."
"So it was you," I say. "That wasn't just some random nightmare."
"depends on your perspective," he says, shoulders lifting. "for you, it was dreams. flashes. a rerun of someone else's bad day. for me..." He taps one finger against his ribs, the clack oddly loud in the empty space. "...yeah. that was my last fight."
I find myself with so many questions.
"Who was that girl?" I demand. "Why were you—"
"nope." He cuts me off gently but firmly, lifting one finger wagging it. "not going there. different world. different rules. if i start dumpin' that whole mess on you, we'll be here for a skele-ton of time, and you'll walk out with more trauma than you came in with."
"Don't make puns in the middle of that.." I muttered.
"sorry." He doesn't sound sorry at all. "force of habit. point is: that story's over. yours isn't. let's keep it that way."
I bite back another question. It's obvious he isn't going to talk about that fight.
"Fine," I say after a second. "Then let's talk about this." I sweep an arm around. "Why drag me into...brain-limbo? Why now? What do you want from me?"
He watches me for a moment, then stuffs both hands back into his hoodie pocket.
"Cutting it down to the bone huh?" he says. "i like that. okay. here's the deal, kid: i'm stuck along for the ride whether i like it or not. i see what you see, i feel what you feel—at least when the big stuff happens. and lately?" He tilts his head. "big stuff keeps happenin'."
"That's not an answer.." I say.
"i'm gettin' there," he says mildly. "you asked what i want. the short version? to keep you from walking blind into a buzzsaw. again."
My jaw tightens.
"I knew walking into Yoshino's blizzard was dangerous," I say. "I'm not stupid."
"never said you were," he says. "reckless, yeah. A little suicidal maybe. but not stupid." The light in his socket brightens a little. "which is why we're talkin'. i can't see the whole future. i don't get a exact script. but i can feel a couple of big things comin' your way. and you deserve a heads-up."
My skin prickles.
"...What kind of 'big things'?"
He lifts one bony finger.
"first up," he says. "the visitor."
The way he says it makes the hair on my arms stand up.
"Visitor," I echo.
"dark visitor, if you want the full spooky branding as," he says. "someone... or something... that doesn't belong in your current little pattern of 'spirit shows up, humans panic, you kiss your way outta it.'"
He makes it sound stupid, which would be nice if it wasn't exactly what's been happening.
"You're saying she's not like Tohka or Yoshino," I say.
"bingo," he says. "the girls you've met so far?" He counts off on his fingers. "lonely sword princess, guilt-ridden ice bunny. they had power, yeah, and damage, sure, but they wanted out. somewhere under all the hurt, they were hopin' someone would reach 'em." He gives me a look. "someone did."
I grimace
"But this 'visitor' won't," I say.
"Exactly"
"when i try to look at her, all i get is... weight," he says slowly. "there's a hole where her past should be, and a lotta noise where her future wants to be. doesn't feel like someone waitin' to be rescued."
"Do you know who she is?" I press. "Her name? Anything?"
"names are fuzzy," he says, shaking his skull. "i get impressions. the sound of a clock that won't stop. the smell of blood that never dries. And.. lots of despair." He then shrugs. "not exactly a helpful ID."
Of course it can't be simple.
"How soon?" I ask. "This week? Next week? Tomorrow?"
"i don't get calendar dates, kid," he says. "just intuition" He taps his skull. "And it's gettin' louder. you're not gonna have the luxury of relaxing, especially since your hands are already full."
He's right, I'm barely keeping up with the spirits I already know about.
I sighed
"Alright," I say quietly. "So some unknown 'dark visitor' is coming, and she'll be worse than anything I've dealt with so far. What am I supposed to do with that? Train? Hide?"
"first thing," he says, "don't assume she's another 'talk and kiss her until the problem goes away case, she is not innocent"
Heat hits my face. "Would you stop saying it like that?"
"just callin' it like i see it," he says, shrugging. "second thing— you've got more tools than you think. we'll get to that. third thing..." He pauses. "you're gonna need to keep a closer eye on the people around you. not just the spirits. Your life's a real mess pal."
I frowned as my eyes twitched "What do you mean?"
He lifts a second finger.
"white-haired kid," he says. "origami."
Her name hits like a stone in my chest.
"You've been watching her?" I say.
"hard not to," he says. "she sticks close. she's got this... stillness. like someone who's been standin' in the same spot for five years without movin', just waitin' for something to walk into range."
He folds his arms.
"i don't know exactly what's gonna happen to her," he says. "no big vision. but every time she looks at the spirits, at you, at that little sister commander of yours, my ribs itch. like i'm listenin' to a radio and i can hear a storm behind the music."
I don't like that description at all.
"Storm how?" I ask. "You think she's going to snap? Turn on us? Die?"
He taps a finger against his chin, eye-light dim.
"i think she's on a unsteady path." he says finally. "and something's gonna hit it. maybe that visitor. maybe something else. when it does, she's either gonna break or twist. neither of those are good options if you're not there."
Something cold settles in my stomach.
"You're telling me to...watch her," I say. "Why me?"
He gives me a look that says really?
"who else is gonna do it?" he says. "kid built her whole life on 'spirits killed my parents, spirits must die.' everyone around her either feeds that story or tiptoes around it. you're the only idiot who walked in and said 'what if they didn't.'"
"That doesn't mean she'll listen to me," I say quietly.
"maybe not now," he says. "but people don't flip a switch outta nowhere. they lean. if you're there, leanin' back, maybe the fall won't be so bad." He shrugs. "or maybe i'm wrong. but i'd rather you be wrong and vigilant than right and asleep."
I let out a slow breath. Dark visitor. Origami walking on invisible thin ice.
"That's a lot," I mutter.
"welcome to bein' special," he says. "speakin' of special..."
He lifts his hand and makes a little gun shape, pointing vaguely past me.
"Crash course on your arsenal," he says. "because right now, you're runnin' around with more firepower than you realize, and zero manual."
I tense.
"You mean—"
"the skulls, yeah," he says. "those floaty guys with the big jaws and the bad attitude. kinda handsome, if i do say so myself."
"Gaster," I say before I can stop myself.
His eye-light flickers, amused.
"look at you, droppin' bone terminology," he says. "gaster blasters for long. but sure, we'll go with gasters."
I exhale.
The second time, I hadn't seen anything. I'd just woken up to the smell of ozone, the sound of my room settling, a vague "something happened" feeling in the air. The second time, I'd seen them clearly. Massive skeletal heads, jaws open, beams fading from their mouths. And instead of fear, I'd felt...recognized. Like seeing dogs I'd grown up with and just forgotten.
"You were watching when they appeared," I say.
"uh-huh," he says. "Second time, you were out cold. someone—or somethings tried to move you without sending you a memo. the blasters didn't like that. they popped in, did a little... intimidating, made sure nothing got too close. by the time you woke up, they'd dipped."
I nodded. "So that destruction..."
"self-defense," he says. "uninformed, but effective."
"And last time," I say. "They appeared right in front of me. I... wasn't scared. I knew they wouldn't hurt me."
"yeah." He nods. "that was them saying 'hi, boss.' they're keyed to you now."
I rub the back of my neck.
"So they're...my power now," I say. "Not yours."
"ehh." He wobbles his hand. "shared custody. i'm not exactly in a position to use 'em, am i? you've got the body, the soul, the world. they respond to your instincts."
"What instincts?" I demand. "I didn't do anything."
"sure you did," he says. "you wanted to protect something."
He takes a couple of slow steps, circling me, voice getting a shade more serious.
"here's how it works, kid," he says. "blasters don't care about chants or magic circles. they care about intent. specifically? that moment where your whole being yells 'no.' not fear for yourself. fear for somebody else."
Images flash: Tohka facing artillery. Yoshino trembling in the rain. Kotori barking orders with a calm that always hides a little fear around the edges.
"You've got a lot of that," Sans says, as if he can see those pictures. "you keep throwin' yourself in front of guns and beams and city-killing storms. the gasters hear that. that's why they show up even when you don't ask."
"So... I can ask," I say slowly. "For help."
"bingo," he says. "lesson one: if you want 'em, call 'em. pick a spot—between you and whatever's coming, or around someone you want to shield. Imagine the skulls there. jaws open. light ready. push with that, and they'll come."
I try to imagine that. The gasters lining up like a wall, mouth wide ready.
"And they won't hurt...people I don't want them to," I say.
"intent's a two-way street," he says. "if you're thinking 'protect,' they're not gonna vaporize the thing you're tryin' to protect. but don't get cocky. collateral's a thing. these guys are powerful. use 'em as a last resort."
I nod, jaw tight. It's terrifying, but it's also better than not knowing.
"Is that all?" I ask. "Just the gasters?"
He chuckles.
"kid, if all I had were skull cannons, i'd still be impressed," he says. "but nope. we've got a whole bone arsenal."
He lifts another finger.
"lesson two: bones."
I stare. "Seriously?."
"oh, trust me, I'm being serious pal" he says. "sharp, fast, good at herding people where you want 'em. you saw 'em in that hallway dream. rows on the floor, spikes from the ceiling."
"And I can use those too?" I ask
"in time, yeah," he says. "easier than blasters, actually. less raw power, more finesse. imagine a line on the ground. picture it turning solid, stabbing up. that's a bone.
"I haven't used them at all," I point out. "Even when things got bad."
"not consciously," he says. "you've been a little busy not dying. but the wiring's there. once you've played with gasters a little more, bones'll probably follow."
I am absolutely not sure about "playing with" any of this, but I keep my mouth shut.
He lifts a third finger.
"lesson three: blue."
Before I can ask, his left socket flares bright cyan.
Something slams into me.
It's like gravity just tripled. My knees buckle without my permission. My arms feel like lead. My whole body wants to fold toward the "floor." I grit my teeth, fighting it, even though there's nothing actually pressing on me.
Then the light fades. The pressure vanishes. I suck in a breath.
"What... was that?"
"blue magic" he says. "A blend of gravity and soul magic. make people heavier, lighter, yank 'em sideways. fun at parties. terrible in a fight if you're on the wrong side."
I rub my chest where the weight seemed to settle.
"And that's... also in me," I say.
"most likely," he says. "the way your soul's wired? yeah. you've got the potential. but here's the catch." He points the same finger at my forehead. "use it wrong right now, you'll scramble yourself. i'm talkin' migraines that make those spacequakes feel like walk in the parks"
"So don't touch that," I say.
"gold star," he says. "if it pops out by reflex, fine, ride the wave. but don't try to throw people around with your mind until you've got more control. i like having a functioning landlord."
He lifts a fourth finger.
"and finally... shortcuts."
I inhaled
I remember it—the brief flash behind my eyes as Zadkiel's blast roared toward me, the sense that if I wanted to, I could just...step and not be there anymore.
"Shortcut," I say.
"yep." He's definitely amused now. "that little whisper you got right before the ice beam tried to turn you into a popsicle."
"It felt like I was gonna... teleport," I say. "Like I could just disappear from one spot and appear in another."
"ah-ah-ah." He wags the finger. "we don't use the t-word around here."
I give him a flat look. "It's literally teleportation."
"nope," he says, grin widening. "teleport's all brute force. cut the space, glue the ends. shortcuts are classier. they're about connections." He taps his skull. "every place you've got a strong imprint on? home, school roof, certain alleyways, that floating battleship, your favorite convenience store—"
"But that's just —"
he ignores me and steamrolls ahead. "point is, they all have a... feeling. you feel 'em in your bones." He snickers at his own pun. "shortcuts let you slide along those feelings. you don't rip space. you just... step from one point to another."
"That is the worst explanation I've ever heard," I say with a deadpan.
"and yet, you understand," he says shrugging. "when you use one, don't think 'anywhere but here.' that's how you end up inside a wall. think of a specific place you know. picture it down to the smell. then move. your soul will do the math."
"And if I screw it up?" I ask.
"well, you do have that whole phoenix thing goin' on," he says. "burst into flames, come back. Definitely better than stayin' dead."
"Not exactly reassuring," I mutter.
"hey, you already kamikazed through an ice storm," he says. "this is just doin' it with style."
I blow out a breath. Gaster blasters keyed to my need to protect. Bones I haven't used yet. Blue gravity I'm not allowed to touch. "Shortcuts" that are totally teleportation no matter what he says.
"And all of that is just...inside me now," I say.
"yep," he says. "perks of the merger. high cost, but pretty good benefits."
"Why?" I ask, suddenly. "Why me? You die, and instead of passing on, you end up...here. With me. Is there a reason, or did the universe roll dice?"
He is quiet for a moment longer than usual.
"if there's a grand plan, nobody cc'd me on the email," he says finally. "my best guess? you were...similar? you've already got weird soul stuff going on. that whole 'die and come back in flames' trick? not exactly standard issue."
My hand goes unconsciously to my stomach.
"Origami's shot," I say.
"uh-huh," he says. "by all rights, that should've been game over. instead you turned into a bonfire and woke up later with no scar. that's not normal, kid, even in your world. You're already marked as...special. i just hitched a ride on that express lane."
After he said the word "special" I could have sworn his eyes flashed. It was a mix of fascination and.... Pity..?
I furrow my brows.
"Okay," I say finally, ignoring it. "Then I'll use it. If I have these powers, I'll use them to protect people. Yoshino. Tohka. Kotori. Even Origami. Whoever I can."
"yeah," he says. "that's kinda why i'm willing to help."
I squint at him. "You mean besides the fact that if I die horribly, you're stuck experiencing it too."
He spreads his hands. "hey, self-preservation is a strong motivator. but it's not the only one." He pauses. "short version? you're a good kid. i've spent a long time watchin' people make the worst possible choices. you, on the other hand, get told 'this is impossible, you'll die' and go 'okay but i made a promise.' hard to just sit back and not throw you a bone."
I stare.
"...Did you really just say 'throw you a bone.'"
"yup" he says, perfectly straight smiling.
Despite everything, a laugh escapes me. It's short and a little strained, but it's there.
He perks up slightly, like he's been waiting for that.
"see?" he says. "sense of humor. you'll need that."
I shake my head, still half-smiling, half wanting to scream.
"Speaking of promises," he says, eye-light glinting. "there's one more thing to mention before you wake up and start makin' more of 'em."
I groan. "If this is about the kisses again, I swear—"
"hey, i didn't invent your sealing mechanic," he says. "but i am observing patterns." He holds up his fingers, ticking them off. "princess. ice girl. two spirits, two kisses, two seals. you might be pretending not to notice the math, but your first spirit?" He whistles low. "she sure is."
Heat explodes in my cheeks.
"Tohka is—I mean, she's—That's not—"
"kid, i've seen how she looks at you when other girls get within a three-meter radius," he says dryly. "and now you've added 'save spirits by kissing them' to your resume. don't be surprised if she starts... negotiating terms. 'one kiss for every spirit you rescue,' that sorta deal."
"That is weirdly specific," I mutter.
"call it a hunch," he says. "point is, you're not just jugglin' city-wide catastrophes. you're jugglin' hearts. swappin' spit to stop armageddon's one thing. forgettin' the people behind it?" He clicks his teeth. "that's another kind of disaster."
"I know," I say, quieter. "I'm not... using them. Any of them."
"never said you were," he replies. "just...keep it in mind. talk to them. listen. don't treat affection points like numbers on a screen." He tilts his head. "that tendency you have to see spirits as people? hold onto it. it's the thing that makes you you."
The space around us feels like it's thinning, somehow. Like the blankness is turning translucent.
"time's almost up," he says. "you've got a busy day. new buildings to complain about, i hear."
I frown. "What?"
"spoilers," he says.
The "floor" wobbles under my feet. My balance tilts like an elevator starting to move.
"Wait," I say. "That dark visitor— Is there anything else you can tell me? Weakness? Timeframe? Anything about Origami? How I'm supposed to keep all of this from falling apart?"
He looks straight at me. For a second, the joking tone is gone.
"i can't give you a walkthrough," he says. "no cheat codes. all i've got are vibes, a front-row seat, and some hand-me-down tricks." He hesitates. "but i can tell you this much."
The light in his socket flares brighter.
"when you feel that urge to run toward someone instead of away?" he says. "don't let me—or anyone—talk you out of it. that's your core.
Something tightens behind my eyes.
"...Alright," I say. My voice comes out hoarse. "I won't."
He seems satisfied with that.
"good," he says. "oh, and shidou?"
"Yeah?"
"If that 'shortcut' feeling comes back," he says, "don't be too afraid to use it. Useful old thing."
The white around us starts to smear, like wet paint being dragged sideways. My stomach lurches. The last thing I see is him lifting two fingers in a lazy salute.
"see ya around, kid," he says, his voice already distant. "try not to lose your head."
"Pretty rich coming from y—"
The world snaps.
I jolt upright in bed, lungs dragging in a sharp breath of real air.
Ceiling.
Hairline crack in the corner. The cheap light fixture. The faint strip of sunlight coming through my curtains, cutting across my desk. My blankets are half on the floor, half around my legs; my shirt is clinging with sweat.
For a few seconds I just sit there, panting, listening to the faint sounds of the neighborhood—distant traffic, a dog barking somewhere, Kotori's alarm in the other room.
No endless void. No skeleton in a hoodie.
But if it was just a dream, it was the sharpest, clearest one I've ever had.
"Sans," I whisper, just to see how it feels.
The name sits on my tongue like something real.
Dark visitor.
Watch Origami.
Gasters answer to your intent.
Bones. Blue. Shortcuts.
I lift a hand and stare at it, half expecting white lines or a skull to pop into existence.
Nothing happens.
A shaky breath slips out of me—equal parts relief and disappointment.
"Right," I mutter. "One thing at a time."
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and stand. My room looks the same as always: uniform draped over the chair, bag slumped by the desk, textbooks in an uneven stack.
Everything is annoyingly normal.
I scrub a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the last clinging sense of whiteness.
"Dark visitor, mysterious dead skeleton roommate, superpowers," I tell the empty room. "And it's probably still a school day."
I sigh and get up from bed
Time to start the day...
I wonder what he meant by new building..?
—
Ah... so that's what he meant by "new building."
I'm standing in front of our house, staring at the brand-new "house" glued onto the empty space next door. Yesterday, there was nothing but sky and cables. Today, there's a three-story block with balconies, curtains, and a planted little tree out front like it's been here for years.
"...Right," I mutter. "Of course. Just casually patch in new map assets overnight...."
The front door slides open behind me.
"Shidou? What are you doing out here...?"
I glance back. Kotori steps out in her pajamas and black ribbon, hair a mess, eyes half-lidded. She yawns, follows my gaze—
—and doesn't even blink.
"Oh," she says. "They finished it."
"'They finished it,'" I repeat. "That's your reaction to this just.. appearing..?"
She pads up beside me, crossing her arms like she's inspecting something she ordered online.
"It's the Spirit residence," she says. "Outer shell is normal housing. Inside is reinforced with Realizer tech—anti-mana barrier systems, isolation blocks. If a Spirit loses control, all the floors are reinforced."
So: fortress disguised as a house.
"Built in what, a day?" I ask.
"Fraxinus's fabrication units did most of it," she says. "We just gave them the blueprint. Even the JGSDF can manage a house in a day."
She says it casually. Like she's bragging about a fast group project.
"...It's still weird," I grumble. "I go to sleep and wake up in a new neighborhood."
"That's just you not paying attention," she says. "Anyway, this is a trial run. If it works, we'll expand. Tohka will be moving in tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," I echo.
The word sits heavy in my chest. I've gotten used to her noise down the hall, to bumping into her in the kitchen, to having her just... here. "Next door" isn't the same as "right there."
Kotori glances at me, eyes narrowing just a little.
"Hmm.??" she hums. "You look oddly depressed."
""I'm not depressed," I say. "Just thinking. That's allowed, right?"
"Do you want to live with Tohka longer?" she asks, too directly.
"It's not like that," I say automatically. "...She's just gotten used to this place. That's all."
"Mm right~" She files that away somewhere, I can tell.
She takes a step toward the new building, then looks back over her shoulder.
"Oh, and Shidou?"
"What now?"
"If you're planning to make some kind of mistake while you're still under the same roof..." She taps her chin. "Today or tomorrow is your last chance."
I squint at her. "...You really shouldn't say stuff like that with a straight face."
She just smirks.
"Think of it as sisterly advice, also... you have a guest" she says, and walks off toward the Spirit residence, black ribbon swaying
Guest?
Wonder what she meant by that..
I let out a slow breath and look back up at the building. Fraxinus-printed fortress for Spirits. It's ridiculous.
And I should check it out.
I take a step toward it—
"U-um... Shidou-san...?"
I pause and look down the street.
Yoshino stands at the end of the street, clutching the hem of her one-piece with one hand. Her hood is up again, like it always is. On her other hand, the rabbit puppet Yoshinon pops up and waves with exaggerated energy.
"Yo, Shidou-kun!" Yoshinon chirps. "Perfect timing. We were just thinking about dropping in."
"Morning," I say. "You're off-ship early."
Yoshino shakes her head, hood swaying. "R-Reine-san said the examinations will... take a while. I asked if I could come down... j-just once. To say thank you. Properly."
She bows so quickly she almost loses her balance.
"Th-thank you very much," she says, voice trembling but clear. "For... saving me. And Yoshinon."
"Yup, we owe you one," Yoshinon adds. "You really pulled through back there, partner."
"I told you I'd come," I say. "I don't like breaking promises."
She blinks, eyes going a little rounder. The tension in her shoulders lets out the tiniest bit.
"How bad are they working you up there?" I ask. "On Fraxinus."
Yoshino fidgets with her sleeve. "They t-took blood. And I had to lie in a noisy box. And they put things on my head. Reine-san explains everything, but... it's still..."
"Scary?" I supply.
She nods, embarrassed.
Of course Ratatoskr is poking and scanning her. They did the same thing to Tohka. I hated it then, too. Spirits go from "existence that distorts space" to "test subject" real fast once they're on a table.
"...You don't have to pretend you're okay with it," I say. "You're allowed to hate it."
Her fingers tighten on her skirt.
"But if it means you can control your power and not hurt anyone again," I add, "it might be worth surviving it. Just this once."
She looks up. Those big eyes are easier to meet now than they were under the rain.
"What about you?" Yoshinon says, tilting her head. "Doing okay after your little... stunt?"
"Define 'okay,'" I say. "Still alive. So that's something."
I hesitate, then make up my mind.
"Wait here a second," I tell them. "Don't move."
"Eh?" Yoshino squeaks. "O-okay..."
I turn and head back into the house. In my room, the thing I'm looking for is exactly where I left it: sitting on top of my drawers, a little worn but clean.
A round-eared stuffed bear. Kotori's, originally. Recently... on loan.
The last two times Yoshino came over, this thing basically fused with her arms.
I pick it up. The fur is slightly rough from years of being dragged around the house.
"Sorry, Kotori," I mutter.
When I come back down, bear under my arm, the front door slides open again. Kotori is in full uniform now, red ribbon on, commander mode loaded. She nearly walks into me, then stops dead.
Her eyes drop to the bear.
Her eyebrow twitches.
"...Shidou," she says. "Why are you holding that?"
"I relocated it," I say. "You have a squad of these. She has none."
"'Relocated,'" she repeats, deadpan.
"It's temporary," I lie. "Kind of."
She looks past me, spotting Yoshino hovering at the bottom of the stairs. For a split second, something complicated flickers in her eyes—nostalgia, maybe annoyance—but it's gone as soon as I try to pin it down.
She exhales. "Do what you want," she says, turning away. "Make sure she doesn't lose it."
"I will," I say.
She steps out past me and heads down the street, probably toward the fortress next door.
I go down to Yoshino.
"This," I say, holding the bear out, "is yours now."
Her eyes widen. "E-eh...?"
"The last two times you came over, you basically welded yourself to this thing," I say. "So I figured I'd make it official."
She stares at the toy like it's forbidden treasure.
"I... I can't," she whispers. "It's too much. It's... Kotori-san's right...?"
"Yeah," I say. "She gave me a look sharp enough to cut steel just now. But she didn't take it back, so it's fine."
Yoshinon leans forward, fabric mouth widening in dramatic surprise.
"Whoa," she says. "This is the fluffy bear from your house, right? Are you sure, Shidou-kun?"
"I'm sure," I say. "If exams are scary, it's better to have something you like with you. Call it... a good-behavior bonus."
Yoshino's hands move on their own. She takes the bear, slowly, like it might vanish if she's too quick. Then she hugs it to her chest and buries her nose against its head.
"I will... take very good care of it," she says, voice muffled.
"Please do," I say. "My life expectancy apparently depends on that bear's safety."
That pulls a tiny laugh out of her. Yoshinon wiggles proudly.
"Oh, right!" the puppet says. "Business item number two."
"Business?" I repeat.
"When all the examinations are over," Yoshinon continues, "and Yoshino's all stabilized and super controllable and stuff—let's go on another date. A proper, non-blizzard one this time."
Yoshino's shoulders jump. She peeks around the bear's ear, eyes flicking up at me.
"D-date...?" she whispers.
"Yeah," I say. "We kind of left the last one in emergency mode. We owe ourselves a redo. No AST. No ice age. Just... regular hanging out."
Her lips part in surprise.
"Really...?" she asks.
"Really," I say. "I'm not the type to save you once and then never see you again. That'd be lame."
She looks like someone just flipped on a light inside her. The fear doesn't vanish, but something else pushes through it.
"...Th-then," she says, clinging to the bear, "when Reine-san says it's okay... can I come here again? To... um... play. And talk. And... just be here."
"Anytime," I say. "This house survived Tohka's appetite. You're no problem."
Her face goes red to the tips of her ears.
"I will... come," she says. "Thank you very much, Shidou-san."
Yoshinon raises a paw. "We'll hold you to that. No backing out, okay?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," I say.
She gives me one more deep bow, then hurries away clutching the bear, hood bobbing, Yoshinon chattering encouragement the whole way.
I watch until she disappears into the new building. My chest feels lighter than it did when I walked out here.
I turn back into the house and head upstairs. As I pass the guest room, a quiet voice calls my name.
"...Shidou."
I stop. The sliding door is open just a crack. Tohka's face peers through, eyes catching mine before she pulls it a little wider and lifts a hand, beckoning.
"Come," she says.
"When you wave at me from a gap like that, it feels suspicious..." I say smiling.
"There is nothing suspicious," she insists. "Just... something I want to say. While I still can."
That phrasing makes my stomach do a small, annoyed flip. I go over and tap lightly on the frame.
"I'm coming in," I say.
The room looks different already. Boxes against the wall, futon rolled up, odds and ends piled neatly in stacks. It's the same space, but cleaned of her daily chaos. Like someone's paused a life halfway through.
Tohka stands in the middle, barefoot on tatami, fingers worrying at her shirt hem.
"Kotori said you're moving tomorrow," I say. "To the fortress next door."
She nods. "She says it is safer. That if my power goes strange again, that house can hold it. I understand."
Her gaze drifts over the room.
"But when I look at it like this," she adds, "...my chest feels strange. When I came here the first time, it was empty. Then there was a futon. And food. And you. And we... laughed. A lot. Now it is going to be empty again."
"Yeah," I say quietly. "Rooms are like that. They get used to people faster than they should."
She looks at me directly.
"Shidou," she says. "Listen."
"I'm listening," I say.
"On the ship, Kotori and Reine told me more about other Spirits," she says. "They said there are many they do not know yet. Some appear for only a short time. Some might be like me and Yoshino—Spirits who do not want to fight, but are still called dangerous and attacked.... Just like you said."
Her hands clench.
"When I heard that, I felt... very angry," she says. "I remembered all the times I fought without knowing why. I thought it was just how things were. But it was people deciding I had to be an enemy."
She takes a step closer.
"It's pitiful," she says firmly. "Wrong. I do not want Spirits like that to be left alone."
I hold her gaze.
"So," she continues, voice softening but not backing down, "from now on, if Spirits like me and Yoshino appear... I want you to save them. Definitely. Not 'if you can' or 'if it's convenient.' I want you to promise."
She knows what she's asking is dangerous. She's still asking.
I smiled wider
"Honestly?" I say. "You're late."
She blinks. "Eh?
I shrug slightly.
"It's not Ratatoskr's mission anymore," I say. "It's basically mine. So yeah. I'll save them, if I can. All of them. That's my promise I made."
She stares at me, eyes shining in a way that has nothing to do with tears.
"...I knew you would say that," she whispers.
"Am I that predictable?" I ask.
"In a good way," she says.
Some of the tension drains out of her shoulders. Then she takes a breath, face flushing again.
"Th-thank you," she says. "That makes me happy. But there is... one more thing."
"Another request?" I say.
She nods, looking away. "This one is... selfish. And only about me."
"Go on," I say. "I'll decide after I hear it."
She hesitates, then steps close enough that I can feel warmth coming off her.
"Come a little closer," she murmurs.
I lean in a bit, expecting her to whisper.
Instead, she grabs my shirt.
"Wha—"
The tatami hits my back, futon giving under the impact. Tohka lands on top of me, hair spilling over my shoulders, knees bracketing my hips.
"Y-You know.." I say, staring up at her, "most people start important talks standing up."
"If I didn't move all at once, I would lose my courage," she says, voice tight. "So I decided to do it like this."
"Do wh—"
She leans down and kisses me.
Teeth bump a little at first. Her hand fists in my shirt. Her hair tickles my face. It's clumsy and too fast and definitely real.
For a second, my brain just... stops.
Then my hands find her waist and steady her. Her body stiffens, then relaxes slightly. The pressure of her mouth shifts from desperate to careful, and my heartbeat surges loud enough to drown out everything else.
When she finally pulls back, both of us are breathing harder than we should be from lying down.
She stays where she is, cheeks burning, eyes locked on mine.
"...Okay," I manage. "You definitely got my attention."
"This is repayment," she says, voice barely above a whisper. "For when you saved me. And Yoshino. I decided my 'thank you' would be like this."
"There were easier options," I say. "Like snacks."
"I don't understand everything yet," she says slowly. "But when I think about kissing you... it doesn't feel bad. When I imagine you kissing someone else... it hurts. When Kotori said you had to kiss Yoshino to save her, my chest felt tight and strange. Even though I knew it was to help her. I didn't know that feeling before."
"Jealousy," I say. "That's what that is."
"Jea... lous," she repeats, tasting the word. "Then... yes. I was very jealous."
She swallows.
"So my first request is this," she says. "Don't kiss anyone else."
Straight shot. No dodge.
"...I can't do that," I say.
Her eyes flicker. "...Why?"
"Because there are going to be more Spirits," I say. "And if the only way to save them and stop spacequakes is to kiss them, I'm going to do it. Even if it makes you angry. Even if it hurts you. I'd rather.... make you mad than let someone die."
Silence. Her fingers tighten on my shirt.
"I don't want you to die," she says quietly. "I don't want other Spirits to die, either. But I... still don't like it."
"I know," I say. "If we find another way, I'll use it. Until then, this is what we've got."
She looks down, bangs hiding her eyes. A long moment passes.
"...Then I will change it," she says.
"Change it?" I echo.
She lifts her head. There's a stubborn light there now.
"If you have to kiss other Spirits to save them," she says slowly, "then for every Spirit you kiss... you have to come back and kiss me, too. After. Every time. That way, I... won't lose."
I stare at her.
"Your solution is 'double the workload,' huh," I say.
"Yes," she says without hesitation. "That is my rule. If you break it, I will be very angry."
It's so very Tohka that I can't help a small snort of laughter.
"Alright," I say. "We'll do it your way. I promise. Every time I have to kiss a Spirit to save her, I'll come back and kiss you, too."
Her whole body seems to loosen. Her shoulders drop; her grip on my shirt relaxes.
"...Good," she whispers. "Then it's decided."
She glances down at my mouth again, then leans in and plants a quick, soft kiss on my lips.
"T-that one is Extra," she blurts immediately after, sitting back up, face flaming. "So I am not behind."
"You're keeping score?" I ask. "I didn't know there was a scoreboard."
"There is now," she says, flustered but firm.
Then realization hits her that she is still straddling me. Her eyes go wide.
"U-uwah!" she yelps, scrambling off so fast she nearly trips over a box. She grabs the nearest pillow and hides her face behind it. "T-that's all! You can go!"
"R-Right.." I say, pushing myself up, heart still pounding. "Thanks for... the clarification."
"D-don't say it like that!" comes the muffled yell.
At the door, I pause and look back. Her eyes peek over the top of the pillow.
"Tohka," I say.
"...What?" she asks, voice small.
"Thanks for trusting me with that," I say. "I'll do everything I can to keep those promises. All of them."
She turns her head away, but I catch the faint curve of a smile.
"You'd better," she says.
I slide the door shut and lean back against the hallway wall for a second, letting out a long breath.
Promises to Yoshino. Promises to Tohka. A warning about a dark visitor on the way. A white-haired girl I'm supposed to watch out for.
And somewhere in all of that, I'm still just me.
"...Okay," I murmur. "Next mess."
⸻
The briefing room is bright.
I sit in the second row, back straight, hands folded on the desk. Ryouko stands at the front with the remote in her hand, expression a little tighter than usual. The last operation is still clinging to all of us.
[Hermit] escaped. [Princess] interfered. We came back with damaged units and no corpse.
That alone would be irritating enough.
Add to that the boy who stepped into the worst possible place—between us and the target—and stood there like he belonged.
Itsuka Shidou.
He was in my apartment. I left him there. When I came back, he was gone. The puppet I'd picked up, too.
Then We found him in front of a blizzard Hermit created.
"Okay, everyone," Ryouko says, clapping her hands once. "Let's start. You know the results. We're going to look at the process."
The low murmur dies. She lifts the remote, then pauses.
"Before playback, one notice," she says. "Because Spirit activity in this area is increasing, we're getting reinforcement."
There's a ripple of unease. Reinforcement can mean dead weight. Or babysitters.
"In this case, it's one Realizer specialist," Ryouko continues. "Ranked top five in the country. Reportedly killed a Spirit alone."
That gets everyone's attention.
She turns toward the door. "Come in."
The side door opens. A girl walks in.
She's small. Middle-school age. Dark hair in a high ponytail, mole under her left eye. Her uniform fits perfectly; her JGSDF insignia is real, not cosplay. The Territory pressure around her is controlled and sharp.
She stops at the front, bows.
"Second Lieutenant Takamiya Mana," she says. "Assigned here from today. I look forward to working with you."
Second lieutenant.
The whispers start. "No way..." "Is this some joke?"
She looks up, eyes cool.
"Rank follows ability," she says flatly. "Not age. If anyone here can exceed my Realizer output, please do. I will happily give up the rank."
She sweeps her gaze across the room. When it passes over me, something in it catches. A tiny flinch. As if she just saw something she half-remembers.
Then it moves on.
"Hey hey, don't start fights yet," Ryouko says, rapping the remote lightly on Mana's head. "Save that attitude for Spirits. Take a seat."
Mana inclines her head. "Yes, Captain."
She comes down the aisle and sits in the empty chair next to me. Up close, the familiarity sharpens. Not her face—her presence. The way the air bends around her like a Territory that never fully turns off.
It's similar to his.
I stare straight ahead.
Ryouko kills the lights. The screen flickers on: road turned to ice, hemisphere of storm where [Hermit] entrenched herself. Our units circling, weapons ready.
"As you all saw, Hermit manifested a defensive blizzard barrier," Ryouko narrates. "When Realizer constructs contact it, it responds with localized freezing. Here's Tobiichi's brave attempt at stabbing it."
I watch myself move on the screen, blade extended. touches the storm; ice races up from the contact point, biting into my Territory.
Even knowing I survived, seeing it makes my skin crawl.
Click. The footage jumps.
"Next, the impromptu civil engineering," Ryouko says dryly. "Tobiichi, you and I will have a chat later."
On screen, my expanded Territory envelops the top of a nearby building, tearing it free. Concrete and steel groan. Furniture and papers fly.
"Her plan wasn't wrong," Ryouko says. "If the barrier had broken under the mass, we would have had a window. But as you can see..."
The building chunk drops. Before it hits, invisible lines slice through it; by the time it reaches the dome, it's only gravel.
The barrier doesn't even flicker.
Ryouko sighs. "Hermit's defense includes cutting fields. Large objects will be shredded before they impact. Keep that in mind next time you feel like dropping architecture on someone."
Click. New angle.
"Now," she says, "the anomaly."
Snow and wind roar around the barrier. The camera zooms in on a single point: someone standing in front of the storm.
A boy in a torn Raizen uniform, blue jacket hanging off one shoulder, clothes stained dark. He stands between us and the dome, back to the camera, facing the storm.
Then Ryouko zooms again. His profile fills the screen.
Itsuka Shidou.
He has a small, crooked grin there. Just a hint.
Like he's pleased to be exactly where he is.
"The civilian you see here," Ryouko says, tapping the screen with the remote, "inserted himself between us and Hermit. Name: Itsuka Shidou. Second-year at Raizen High. Address in this district. You may also remember him from the [Princess] incident."
The whispers this time are sharper.
"Him again..."
"How is he alive after walking into that...?"
I ignore them.
My mind flashes back to him standing in my doorway. talking about Spirits with that same steady gaze. His hands on my cheeks when he pinched them—warm, grounding.
Then the emptiness of my apartment when I got back and he wasn't want there, the puppet gone as well.
He was always going to be where the danger was.
Next to me, Mana sucks in a breath.
I glance sideways.
Her hand is pressed to her temple, brows knit in pain. A soft sound escapes her throat.
"Takamiya?" Ryouko calls. "You alright?"
Mana doesn't answer. She keeps staring at the screen.
At him.
At that stupidly calm grin.
For a moment, she closes her eyes, like she's fighting off a wave of something. When she opens them, the room might as well not exist.
She stands up.
The screech of the chair legs on the floor cuts the whispers off.
"Takamiya?" Ryouko questions.
Mana doesn't look away from the screen. Her lips move before sound comes out.
"...Onii-sama...?"