Ichikawa dragged his feet across the school gates, every step feeling like he was pulling a mountain behind him. His body was heavy, his mind was a fog of gray gravy and silver haired shouting, and he was officially deadas.
Ensuring no mortals were looking, he let out a sharp breath and flicked his wrist. The air in front of him tore open like a piece of silk, revealing a shimmering rift. He stepped through, and the smells of the school, the chalk, the sweat, and the lingering scent of mystery gum. were instantly replaced by the smell of expensive incense and home cooked food.
He was back in the Higher Plane.
His home wasn't a palace of stars or a floating castle. it looked like a ridiculously high-end, modern apartment, except the windows looked out over a horizon where three different suns were currently setting.
"I'm back," Ichikawa croaked, dropping his bag onto the floor. It hit the polished marble with a wet thud.
"Oh, look what the cat dragged in! Or is that just a very sentient pile of sludge?"
Kyoki stepped out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on an apron. Even in a domestic setting, she radiated a pressure that made the air hum. Her long blue hair was tied back, and her eyes. the same ones that had pinned him to his chair when she first gave him the ring. scanned him from head to toe.
"You look like you've been through a trash compactor, Ichikawa," she said, leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin. "Did you have fun with the mortals? Did you learn the power of friendship, or did you just lose a fight to a cafeteria lady?"
"I fought a primordial void, Mom," Ichikawa groaned, collapsing onto a sofa made of woven clouds. "And my teacher is currently a broken man drawing pictures in the dirt. I want to quit. Take the ring back. I'll just stay here and dust the constellations."
Kyoki walked over and flicked his forehead. "Absolutely not. We sent you there to learn how to exist without accidentally exploding every time you get a crush or a bad grade. Remember what I told you? That ring stays on. Ninety nine percent of your power is locked away for a reason."
She leaned in closer, her eyes glowing with that faint, dangerous light. "You didn't use Divine Magic, did you? Because if I find out you cheated just because some 'Eternal Silence' thing was being annoying, I'll make your next seal even tighter. You'll be lucky if you can even lift a spoon."
"I didn't use it!" Ichikawa defended, throwing his hands up. "Ruleus handled it. He's... he's something else. I think he's actually more dangerous than the seal."
Kyoki laughed, a melodic sound that vibrated through the floorboards. "Good! It sounds like you found a pet. Now go wash that gravy off your soul. Your father is busy, so it's just us for dinner."
"Is it vegitables soup again?" Ichikawa asked miserably.
"No, it's tacos," Kyoki chirped, heading back to the kitchen. "But the shells are made of solidified light, so try not to chip a tooth. You're technically a 'mortal' right now, remember?"
Ichikawa let his head sink into the cushions. He was home, safe in a separate dimension, far away from the chaos of the academy. But as he closed his eyes, he could still hear Ruleus's voice shouting about disaster partners and the sound of Yoshiro sensei hitting the floor.
"Ichikawa sat on his cloud-sofa, staring blankly at the taco his mother had placed in front of him. Suddenly, he froze. He narrowed his eyes, looking past the shimmering walls of the Higher Plane, past the dimensions, and directly at you.
"Wait a minute," Ichikawa muttered, pointing a soup spoon at the screen. "Mom, who are these people? Why are they staring at me?"
Kyoki leaned over his shoulder, still wearing her 'Kiss the Cook' apron. She squinted into the void, her eyes glowing with divine annoyance.
"Oh, those? Those are the Readers," she said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "They're a strange species of mortals who have so little going on in their own lives that they've decided to spend their 2026 watching a twelve-year-old get covered in gravy and supernatural gum and fighting a higher demansional being."
"Wait, they watched the whole thing?" Ichikawa's face turned a shade of red that rivaled his ring. Even the part where I was crying about the girl's underwear in my past life? And the part where the teacher turned into a paper bird?!. Ichikawa thought.
"Every. Single. Second," Kyoki chirped, patting his head. "They're probably sitting there right now in their pajamas, eating snacks that aren't even made of solidified light, hoping you'll accidentally blow up a planet so they can feel a spark of excitement in their dull, gray existence."
Ichikawa stood up, gripping his spoon like a weapon. "Hey! You! Yeah, you with the phone! Go do your laundry, help your mom! Read a textbook! Go outside and touch some actual grass instead of reading about me getting bullied by a silver-haired idiot who licks tablets!"
"Don't be mean, Ichikawa," Kyoki teased, waving at the audience with a predatory grin. "We need them. If they stop reading, the 'Narrative' collapses and everyone in the world would stop existing, except us. Although, looking at the state of this audience... I'm surprised they can even read words with more than two syllables. Truly, the bar for entertainment has plummeted."
"I'm 99% sealed and I still feel more productive than the person reading this," Ichikawa sighed, sitting back down. "Go away. The Epilogue is over. There's nothing left but me eating soup and regretting my reincarnation. It's pathetic. You're being a voyeur to my misery. Shoo!"
Kyoki leaned in one last time, whispering directly to you. "If you keep scrolling to Chapter 7, I'm telling your class teacher to fold you into an envelope next. Consider this your only warning, you beautiful, bored losers!"
Ichikawa groaned into his soup, "Please, just go touch grass; watching me suffer isn't a hobby, it's a psychiatric symptom. But we know you'll be back, lurking like bored gargoyles for the next disaster. Don't blame us when the next arc is even more deadass, you're the ones who keep clicking"