I kept replaying the kiss in my head the following day. Koneko didn't face me. She couldn't. Every time she would meet my gaze, her head would turn almost immediately, like an allergic reaction. I understood. It shouldn't have happened, but it did.
I thought about it, how I said nothing could ever happen between me and her. Ironic, right? The situation has changed since then.
What was the point of thinking about it? I'm already past the point of no return. The thing that mattered was to not lie to myself, I guess?
Today is the day of the funeral for the victims of the massacre. Hero of Nagano, they called me... but was I? Was I really?
I thought of asking Rias to let me attend, but can I properly face the wrath and grief from the people I failed to save? Or the wrath of their loved ones? I wonder.
It's funny now that I reflected on myself properly. I realized I spent 17 years of this new life mocking my reincarnation like I was some Hikigaya Hachiman clone or something. But was that who I really am?
No. I thought about it hours too long before I came to a conclusion. I was playing a role, one I forced myself to believe like a madman playing 4D chess with his brain. The truth? The truth is expensive. Can I afford the cost? I let the words sink.
Did you ever think about them? What do you mean? What must be going on in their hearts? In our line of work, you can't afford to be sentimental — these kids are the thieves and criminals of tomorrow. Still… I can't help thinking about them. Kids or not, I told you one of them threatened me with a revolver. It's a cursed neighborhood, but is it their fault they were born in it?
Such a nostalgic song. Adevarul Costa Scump by Anturaj, playing in my headphones. I was rapping it before I realized.
"Vrei s-auzi, hei, vrei sa vezi hei vrei sa stii, hei
Preferi sa crezi
Ca adevarul e un lux asa ca tu nu ti-l permiti
Costa prea scump si e mai usor sa minti"
This part is about denial — choosing lies because truth feels too heavy, too expensive to confront. It asks who you're really lying to: the world or yourself.
"Adevarul costa scump spun, ti-l permiti
Esti in stare sa-l infrunti sau vrei sa-l eviti
Ai facut lucruri pe care acuma le regreti
Daca nu inveti din greseli o sa le repeti..."
This verse calls you out directly.
Truth has a price. Regret has a price.
If you don't face what you've done, you'll repeat the same shit until it destroys you.
And most people prefer money, comfort, or excuses over honesty.
"...Prea putini care sa spuna n-am nevoie de banii tai
Majoritatea o sa spuna vreau acum toti banii tai..."
Here it shifts to the hypocrisy and greed in society — how people pretend they're righteous, but most will stab you for cash if they need to. It's a critique of ego and survival instinct.
"...Decat sa te minti mereu ca o sa fie bine
Ca o sa aiba altii grija de tine
Vrei sa traiesti in minciuna sau esti pregatit
Sa recunosti tot ce pan-acum tu ai mintit…"
This part hits the self-delusion theme again:
You pretend you're fine.
You pretend someone else will save you.
But lies can only carry you so far before they break you.
The truth is expensive — can you face it, or keep avoiding it? Mistakes you regret, the cost of ignoring reality, the lies people tell themselves…
"Adevarul costa scump pot sa-ti demonstrez
Dar ce vreau e sa te fac sa realizezi
Ca daca tu ignori tot ce te-nconjoara
Asta nu inseamna ca o sa dispara…"
This one hits harder:
Ignoring your problems doesn't erase them.
All you do is delay the explosion.
"Daca preferi sa te minti doar ca s-arati ca faci bani
Ca sa arati ca tu traiesti mai bine decat ai tai dusmani
Atunci inseamna ca te minti in primul rand pe tine"
It's calling out the fake image people build — pretending they're winning just to spite enemies. But that lie destroys you first.
"Nu vrei sa stii ca nevasta te insala
C-ai tai copii nici nu se mai duc la scoala…"
This section is about denial as a shield.
People cling to illusions because reality hurts too much to face directly.
I've been pretending everything's fine — ignoring the mess around me, chasing an illusion. I lie to myself to look strong, to seem better than the people who doubted me. My life's slipping out of control, and I keep saying it's not true just to feel like I'm in charge.
I got two choices. Drown in denial or face the truth.
"Vrei sa stii totul despre cei din jurul tau
Da cum ar fi daca ar stii si ei
Ca nu esti chiar asa de frate precum prertinzi ca esti…"
This is the paranoia verse.
You judge others — but what if they saw the real you?
Not the version you perform, but the one you're terrified to admit exists.
"Esti dispus s-o dai pe fata sau ascunzi ceva
Ti-e teama sa nu se afle
Ce-ai facut candva
Si daca s-ar afla cred ca te-ar costa…"
A warning:
You hide things because truth has consequences.
And exposure has a price you might not be ready to pay.
You wanna know everything about those around you, but what if they knew too?
I had things I couldn't tell even Suzuka or Haruka. Drug use, shoplifting. All the trash I bury in the pile of my past life. If they knew, how would they take it?
I don't care enough to know.
The match with Riser was closing in, and the thought of pulling the ground out from under both him and Rias clawed at my mind. Riser was exactly the type of arrogant punk I despised in my past life. And Rias — she had slapped me, tried to erase Suzuka's memories, and scolded me for returning to Romania. I owed both of them a debt, and I intended to collect it.
I needed a plan — and I had an ace up my sleeve no one would see coming.
All in due time.
[Issei POV]
Day seven in the Underworld, and the Gremory training grounds looked like hell had a hangover.Burn marks everywhere, craters the size of cars, and I swear Akeno-san's lightning was still buzzing in the air from yesterday.
My body still felt like overcooked yakitori, but hey — that's devil life.
At least Buchou wasn't crying anymore. After what she told me last night about her name, her family, and everything she has to live up to… I'm just glad she smiled again. Even if it was small.
"Pair up!" Buchou's voice cut through the heat. Her crimson hair shimmered under the sun. "Issei, you're with Kokonoe today. Full power. No excuses."
Oh crap. Kokonoe.
I forced a grin. "Alright! Guess I'll show him what a Red Dragon can do!"
(Please don't freeze me again. Please don't freeze me again.)
Kokonoe stood off to the side, arms crossed, that black hoodie somehow not melting him alive. Cold air rippled faintly around his boots. He was standing off to the side, arms crossed, black hoodie zipped up like the heat didn't even touch him. He wasn't even looking at me — just at the horizon, like he was waiting for something worse than all of us.
"Let's make it quick," he said finally, voice low but even.
Alright, fine. Game on.
"Y-yeah! Sure! Quick's my middle name!" I powered up the Boosted Gear. "BOOST!"
That familiar red glow spread over my arm. "Alright! Let's go! The Red Dragon Emperor's not backing down today!"
Kiba smirked from the sidelines. "Try not to die, Issei."
"Hey, I survived worse!" I shouted back. "BOOST!" Again. Flames burst from my feet as I charged straight at Kokonoe. "Dragon Shot!"
A blast of dragon fire roared across the field. It was huge, hot, and awesome!
Kokonoe didn't even flinch. He raised one hand, and in that single breath, ice spiraled out like something alive. Walls of frost layered over each other, the flames hitting them and turning to steam.
The impact sounded like a cannon going off. When the air cleared, he was still standing, calm as ever, a faint shimmer of mist curling around him.
"You overextend your core," he said. Usually he'd mean it as an insult — but now it just sounded like an observation. "Channel it, don't chase it."
I blinked. "...Wait, that's it? No 'you suck,' no 'pathetic human,' just—training advice?"
He didn't answer. Just looked at me, his expression unreadable. That was somehow scarier.
Why was he helping me? The guy barely acknowledged my existence unless he was mocking me for being a perv.
"BOOST!" I yelled again, closing the gap, throwing a punch. "Let's see how you block this!"
He caught my wrist mid-swing. I felt the shock run through my arm — freezing cold crawling under my skin, seeping straight into the Boosted Gear.
"W-woah—!" The light dimmed. "Dude, my arm's turning into a popsicle!"
I willed myself to break the frost forming on my arm.
"BOOST!" My arm glowed red, the Boosted Gear roaring to life. "Here we go!"
"BOOST! BOOST! BOOST!"
Power burned in my veins as I charged. The ground cracked, fire swirling behind me. "Dragon Shot!"
Flames shot forward in a huge blast, melting the sand.
Kokonoe barely lifted a hand. Ice flared around him—clean, sharp, and blue. The flame hit and fizzed out, turning into steam before it even reached him.
"Okay, that's unfair," I coughed.
He didn't answer. Just walked toward me, slow and deliberate, frost following his steps.
"Hey—hey, come on, man! At least look like you're trying!"
Still nothing.
I lunged forward, fist blazing… and hit him.
It connected. Not enough to knock him out, but the air around Kokonoe shifted, and he stumbled a bit, balancing himself before he could fall on the ground.
I froze. Did I really…? I shook my head. No way.
"Not bad," Kokonoe said, voice low, almost like a sigh. Wait… did he just—compliment me?! No way. Then, his cold aura smoothed back into place, arms crossed. "Channel it, don't chase it."
I gritted my teeth. "BOOST!" One more surge—my strongest yet! I lunged forward with all my strength—
He dodged. Effortlessly. Looks like I can't land another one...
He looked at me once. Seriously, how cool does this guy think he is? "You're pushing power without control."
Then, a twist—and the ground met me for what felt like the tenth time this week.
I groaned, spitting out dirt. "Oww… yeah, I'm fine. Totally fine."
Buchou sighed. "That's enough for today."
Kiba chuckled. Akeno-san hid her laugh behind her hand. Asia looked at him with a mix of awe and fear— then suddenly she rushed over to me and crouched down, slipping her hands under my arm to help me up.
"Are you okay, Ise-san?" she asked, voice soft and worried. That expression… man, it hits me every time. She's way too cute for my heart to handle.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Thanks, Asia," I said, trying to sound cool even though she was literally pulling me off the ground.
Yep. Perfect recovery.
Koneko-chan though… she was silent. Not even glancing at Kokonoe. Just staring off to the side. She was clenching her hands so tight her nails dug into her palms.
Weird. Normally she's glued to him, but now she's just glaring at the ground. I mean, those two used to be almost inseparable after Nagano.
"Did something happen between them?" I whispered to myself. "Wait, no way—did he—?!"
Koneko-chan looked up just in time to catch me staring. "What are you looking at, pervert?"
"E-eh?! Nothing! Just analyzing the battle! Totally battle stuff!"
Yeah… sure, Issei. Totally battle stuff.
Buchou stepped forward then. Everyone looked up. Even Kokonoe's eyes were on her.
"Kokonoe-kun," she said evenly. "Later today… you may attend the Nagano funeral."
The air went still. Even Akeno-san's lightning faded.
He blinked once. "…I didn't ask."
"I know," Buchou replied, her voice softer now. "That's why I'm allowing it."
Something unreadable flickered in his eyes—just for a moment. "Understood."
He bowed his head slightly, then walked past the rest of us, quiet as snowfall.
No one spoke for a while.
I rubbed the back of my neck, watching him go. "…Was that, uh… a good thing?"
Buchou turned to me, expression unreadable. "It was necessary."
She didn't explain more. She didn't have to.
Koneko-chan looked after him, fists unclenching slightly, with a mix of grief and longing in her eyes. The rest of the peerage stayed silent as Kokonoe disappeared down the path.
And me? I couldn't tell if I was jealous, confused, scared, or all three. Why did Buchou let him? Why did Koneko-chan look like that? And… why did it feel like everyone was speaking a language I didn't know?
I swallowed hard. The dude's a black hole… and somehow, we're all getting sucked in.
I just hope he's gonna be okay. I thought about Nagano for a second—the smoke, the blood, the city torn to pieces. Buchou didn't tell us much, so I was… shocked. Shocked to find out what really happened. Shocked to realize Kokonoe, Koneko-chan, and those two girls—Midorikawa Suzuka and Yamamoto Haruka—had been right in the middle of it.
I wish I could've done something. Maybe things wouldn't have gotten so bad if I'd been there.
I failed him. Just like I failed to save Asia… but not this time! No way. I'm not letting it happen again! I'll save Buchou from that damn Yakitori bastard — no matter what it takes!
[Suzuka POV]
The shrine courtyard smelled of incense, candles, and fresh flowers. The smoke curled lazily into the air, mixing with the faint chill of the morning. Monks chanted in low, even tones, their voices wrapping around the rows of coffins like a shroud.
I couldn't look away. Two hundred fifty of them. Two hundred fifty lives snuffed out, laid bare in polished wood, each one still carrying a weight I couldn't comprehend. I clenched my fists, feeling the rough cloth of my sleeve bite into my palms.
Aika-chan was among them. My stomach turned, my chest tight. I wanted to believe she could have been saved. Some small, dark part of me even blamed Kokonoe-kun for not coming in time... I knew it was selfish. I knew it was wrong. Yet, I couldn't help it.
Kokonoe-kun… he saved the city. But he wasn't here with us. That hurt more than I would ever admit. Just like Haruka, I found myself wishing he could break free from that woman. Or, at least, I wanted that woman to let him off. Just today.
Haruka, standing next to me, placed a hand on my shoulder. "It's not your fault, Suzuka," she whispered softly.
I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that any of this could've been fixed, that Aika-chan could've been saved. But some part of me knew better. Some part of me hated myself for feeling that way.
And yet, I couldn't let that thought linger for long. Aika-chan… she deserved all of my attention. Her life had ended far too soon. The unfairness of it clawed at me, sharper than any frustration with Kokonoe-kun could. Aika-chan and I… we'd been inseparable since middle school.
I let my mind wander, chasing the memories. The first time we shared a lunch tray, elbows brushing as we giggled over something silly. Our sleepovers, staying up too late whispering secrets until our eyelids drooped. The way we'd go to karaoke after school, laughing so hard my stomach hurt. How she'd tease me endlessly whenever I got lost in some French novel, calling me a "Western otaku" like it was the funniest thing in the world.
How she would talk about her crushes, her cheeks pink with excitement, and then nudge me, asking when I would find a boy. I'd just roll my eyes, but the way she laughed—so bright, so alive—it always made my chest ache a little.
I looked down at Aika-chan's mother, pale and trembling, hands pressed against the coffin as if sheer will could hold her daughter back.
Then, I caught a glimpse of Chisato-san, sobbing quietly near the coffin of a fallen co-worker. Kokonoe-kun… if not for us… come for your mom. The thought stung, but I brushed it aside, letting the sight steady me in a way no words ever could.
I stepped closer to Aika's grave. Her mother's eyes met mine, and in an instant, she reached out, wrapping me in a trembling hug. Her tears soaked my shoulder.
"Suzuka-chan…" she sobbed, burying her face in my chest.
I held her as best I could, patting her back, letting the grief pass between us in silence. No words were enough, and yet, somehow, the simple act of being there felt like the only thing that could.
As I hugged her, I let my own tears fall, warm and sticky against my cheeks, sobbing quietly into her embrace. What good would words be now? Nothing could fix this. No one could bring Aika-chan back.
All I could do was hold her, let the grief wash over us together, a silent, shared weight pressing against my chest.
The city grieved around me. Once the ritual ended, the mayor stepped onto a makeshift podium, his voice echoing faintly over the crowd.
"We are gathered here today to honor the victims of the earthquake that shook our city. Two hundred and fifty souls… taken far too soon. This is a loss we share collectively, but also personally — my own wife is among those we mourn."
His words hit me like a punch. Two hundred and fifty souls. Each one a life, a story, a heartbeat, gone. My chest felt like it had been hollowed out. I could hear the quiet sobs behind me, the whispered names, the rustle of hands clutching flowers.
"We remember them. We mourn them. And we vow to support their families, and every member of our community affected by this disaster. In their memory."
"In their memory", the crowd echoed, their quiet sorrow pressing into my chest, heavy with the weight of shared grief.
I let my hands fall to my sides. Rich or poor, young or old… death didn't care. It didn't wait. That was what being human meant — powerless. And that was why it hurt so much.
They called it an earthquake. But I knew the truth. I knew who had done this. The Oblivion Syndicate. The ones who had taken her. Taken them all. And I knew, as I had before, that they wouldn't stop. They would strike again. How many more "earthquake" stories would they spin to hide the truth?
I closed my eyes. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry until my voice broke. But I couldn't. All I could do was clutch the flowers in my hands and imagine Aika-chan's laugh — bright, relentless, too short-lived.
Then I felt it. A dark aura, moving like a shadow through the crowd of grieving people. I turned… and there he was. Black hoodie with the hood pulled low over his head, sunglasses hiding his eyes, his expression unreadable, heavy with gloom.
If he had come sooner— No. Stop. That wasn't fair.
"Kokono—" I wanted to call out, but the words lodged in my throat. Haruka-chan reached toward him too, but he didn't even glance back.
He stopped in front of the coffins, silent for a long moment. Then, almost to himself, he whispered a prayer.
"I'm sorry I couldn't save you all."
His voice was low, meant for no one but us to hear. The weight of it made my chest tighten even more, mixing grief with a strange, piercing ache I didn't know I could feel—
As if he knew exactly how I felt.
Never in my life had I carried so much guilt. Je suis désolée, Kokonoe-kun…