The man and woman who had been bisected didn't even get a chance to scream. The moment they died, their Stand abilities dissolved, and Inori's stolen memories flooded back. But the snakes were still a problem. Everlasting Crown's sword-drawing presence sent them scattering in every direction, and this was a residential neighborhood—if they slithered into someone's home, people would die.
The thick scent of blood from the two halved corpses lured many of the snakes back, but a small number disappeared into the dense greenery surrounding the area.
Mana Ouma rubbed her temples. She knew innocent residents would be caught up in this, but killing the snakes concentrated here was already more than generous on her part. She couldn't exactly go hunting them down one by one.
More importantly, Jotaro's group was still in danger. Josuke might not be able to handle the Stand user inside the house on his own. She needed to get over there fast.
But she also knew her own part was finished. The Stand user they'd be facing next was better left to Inori. The one who had built that comrade-in-arms bond with those three men wasn't Mana—it was her. Josuke would be fine, but someone as sharp as Jotaro would spot the difference in a heartbeat.
And beyond that, Mana's "Stand" ability was far too conspicuous. Inori wouldn't want them questioning her identity. The fact that they came from another world was a secret shared between the two of them alone, not to be revealed to any third party.
"Little Inori, I took care of them!"
With that resolution made, Mana Ouma returned to the world she knew best—the soul space they shared.
The girl lay curled on her side with her back to Mana, sleeping soundly. She really had run herself ragged. Since arriving in this new world, she hadn't gotten a proper rest even once. Every night, her mind churned through Stand battle strategies and burned through brain cells trying to analyze Yoshikage Kira's unknown third bomb.
"..."
Mana Ouma shook her head with a sigh.
She felt for Little Inori. But her decision wouldn't change. If she went soft now and let Inori keep sleeping while she went to face Jotaro herself, Inori would resent her for it afterward.
"Little Inori, wake up."
Mana pressed a hand to her own forehead and tried to rouse her as gently as possible.
"...Mmm... mmm..."
Pink hair fanned across snow-white skin, each setting off the other's glow. The soft, slow rhythm of her breathing was only audible up close. Her expression was peaceful, her long pale-pink lashes interlaced like a kiss, her lips—naturally flushed without a trace of makeup—parted just enough to release wisps of fragrant breath, like some kind of lethal perfume.
Mana stared at Inori's sleeping face. A sudden, restless impulse made her swallow hard.
—Incredible. It's almost like looking at another version of myself.
But Mana knew she wasn't. This was a girl with the same face and an entirely different soul—and it was precisely that difference that amplified the dangerous thought. The idea that this girl shared her exact body made it thrilling in a way she couldn't explain.
She was starting to feel strange.
But the strangeness didn't repel her. If anything, it felt more and more like her true nature revealing itself.
—People are born the way they are. They can never change—only draw closer and closer to their real selves. Mana Ouma was beginning to think that statement was the highest truth.
A mere clone body, built to serve as a vessel, yet housing a soul of unyielding pride. With the pitch-black will burning in those crimson eyes, she had severed the fate the gods had imposed on both of them and freed Mana from the Curse of Eve. A person like that—regardless of gender—deserved respect. Deserved devotion. Deserved to be loved.
Little Inori's lips must be so soft, so sweet... She seemed to remember Inori had shared a light, barely-a-touch kiss with Hare Menjou once. How annoying. If Mana could steal her first real kiss right here, she'd have absolute dominance!
Then again, the lips were already taken. But the tongue, on the other hand... Hehe.
"What are you doing?"
Inori felt something pressing down on top of her and fumbling around. She snapped her eyes open.
Two identical pink-haired girls, pressed together like a comforter and a bedsheet. Mana was on top of Inori, still frozen in the posture of leaning in for a kiss, her expression rigid—like someone caught with their pants down in front of a photo of their crush, right as that crush walked through the door.
Inori opened her eyes to their compromising position and her earlobes flushed scarlet. She couldn't fathom why Mana, in the middle of a life-or-death battle, had come here to try to kiss her instead of fighting.
—The nerve! You little—!
Her mind raged, but her actual response came out meek.
"Hold still, Little Inori... I just wanted to check if you're developing normally."
—Developing?! This is the soul space!
"Cut it out, Mana. The battle isn't over yet." Inori turned her head away. The blush spreading across her pale cheeks only made things worse.
"Huh? You're blushing?"
"For someone who loves teasing people so much, you're surprisingly bad at being on the receiving end, aren't you?"
"You're starting to sound like a dirty old man." Inori glared at her with open disgust, though the scarlet blush somewhat undermined the effect. "Get off me!"
"Okay~ okay~"
What a shame. Plan failed.
But there'd be plenty of chances. After all, in this world—no, in any world—she was the person closest to Inori. Bar none. Hare Menjou, that Hirose girl—none of them were even threats.
Honestly, living inside someone else's body wasn't so bad after all.
"Now tell me what's happening."
Inori straightened up, her expression serious, brow furrowed.
"All taken care of."
"That fast?"
"I used the Sword." Mana grinned, showing a flash of white teeth. "But don't worry—nobody saw. Those two are dead, and your memories are back!"
"Seems that way."
Inori nodded. She reached inward for King Crimson, and sure enough, the hollow feeling of something missing had been filled. She could use her Stand again.
But the fact that Mana could wield the Singer's Sword in this world genuinely shocked her. She had assumed the Sword had been absorbed into Everlasting Crown during that evolution. This was excellent news—it finally covered the gap in her Stand's offensive power.
If she ever had to fight Jotaro again, Inori was one hundred percent confident she could win.
"Thanks, Little Mana. I'll graciously acknowledge your contribution~"
Inori forced her voice an octave higher, trying to mask what she really felt.
"Oh? Then... can I pick up where I left off?"
Mana was no Hare Menjou. One look from Inori and she already knew exactly what the girl was thinking.
"No!"
"Why not? Don't you like me?" Mana Ouma lowered her lashes, looking deflated.
"...Can we talk about this later? Jotaro and the others are still in danger right now. I need to get over there!"
"So 'later' means yes?"
—What is wrong with her today?! Did letting her drive for a bit go to her head? Is she not satisfied being a passenger anymore? Trying to stage a coup? Ha—as if a honeypot is going to work on me! Dream on! This body's master is me, Inori! You're the one who's supposed to be the ringtone here! Mana Ouma!
"I'm not trying to take your body, you know."
That was genuinely unsettling.
You're thinking something, and the person standing across from you just says it out loud. Borderline horror. Inori broke out in goosebumps. Had they really come to understand each other this well without even realizing it?
"Then what do you want?"
Inori asked, wary.
"I want... you."
...