The next few days were quiet—too quiet. No demons, no missing students. After school, Nero either worked her part-time gig, chatted with Hina about constellations in the astronomy club, or swapped school gossip with Ai. Meanwhile, Dante, bored out of his skull with no action, slipped back into his slacker routine. The guy turned into a sundae-chugging couch potato, snoozing all day. If Rene didn't swing by now and then to drag him out for parfaits, he'd probably drown in takeout boxes without ever leaving the apartment.
"Uncle." Nero pushed open Dante's door, eyeing the fresh pile of plastic bags and insulated food containers. She sighed. "I made some strawberry pie today. Want some?"
Dante rolled out of bed, tossing aside a manga with a stiff grin. "Oh, uh… thanks, kid."
Good thing Nero didn't have to clean this pigsty—the apartment came with a part-time maid service. Otherwise, she'd have torn into him, uncle or not. At the very least, he could toss his own damn takeout trash.
For Dante, though, Nero's unconditional patience was scarier than Trish's lectures. Every time she sighed, he felt a twinge of guilt. Unlike Trish, Nero was younger—still a kid, really. Making her deal with his mess felt… wrong.
"Ya know, Nero, you don't have to go through all this trouble for me," Dante said, eyeing the freshly baked pie on the table. He was happy but also a little uneasy.
"No trouble at all. Just enjoy it," Nero replied, hanging her apron in the kitchen and stepping out.
Dante noticed she wasn't in her school uniform. She'd changed into casual clothes, which probably meant she was heading out.
"Going somewhere?" He paused, fork and knife hovering over the pie. "You eat already?"
"Yup," Nero said casually. "Found some leads I'm gonna check out tonight."
Leads. That meant demon business. Dante snapped to attention, sitting up straight. "Need backup?"
"Not sure if demons are even involved yet," Nero said, heading to the door. She turned with a grin. "Go ahead and eat, Uncle. You can catch up later if I need you."
The door clicked shut.
Tonight, Nero had finally scored a chance to meet Mana Yorita, a still-active idol and former partner of Sumimi's "Sorrow," Hatsuka Misumi. If anyone knew what happened to Hatsuka before she vanished and became the Vesper Carnival's "Sorrow," it was Mana.
Stepping out of the elevator, Nero melted into the neon-lit city under the night sky.
High above the same city lights, Soyo Nagasaki stood on her balcony, gazing at the glowing ring on her finger before rising to her feet.
"Demons showing up tonight too?" she asked.
From the shadows behind her, a bizarre creature called "Little Ace" slunk forward. It hopped onto the round table in front of her. "More than that. The demon you've been dying to meet might just make an appearance."
Soyo's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and excitement. "You mean…"
"Yup. Mutsu Wakaba's coming. Shoko's still out cold, but she won't be down much longer."
Soyo held up her hand, staring at the ring, lost in thought. "You're sure this can turn them back into humans?"
"Absolutely," Little Ace said with confidence. "'Yama Blade,' the weapon left behind by the missing demon swordsman Sparda. It's a treasure that can separate man from demon. Get your hands on it, and you can purge the demons possessing their bodies."
Soyo stayed quiet, so Little Ace nudged her. "C'mon, you gotta move. You'll be late."
But Soyo didn't budge. She brushed her fingers over the ring and said softly, "You know, I'm really glad I made this wish."
"Is that so? Good to hear," Little Ace replied, hopping off the table. It glanced back. "But you sure about this? That wish only gave you a 'maybe.' No guarantee it'll all work out."
"That's enough for me," Soyo said. She drew her twin blades, "Scotty," from the ring and leaped into the night sky. "As long as there's hope, that's all I need."
Soyo was done feeling powerless, like when her parents' divorce tore everything apart. As long as there was hope, a chance to take something back, a path to fight for—
She believed she could hold the slipping sands of time in her hands and keep them from spilling away.
"Heh." A sinister chuckle echoed from the shadows of Soyo's balcony. The source? None other than Little Ace.
It laughed—mocking Soyo as she left, mocking these naive girls, mocking humans so easily deceived.
"That's humanity for you," it sneered. "Tell 'em 'your wish came true,' and even if reality doesn't quite match, they'll bend over backward to convince themselves it's not a broken dream."
All it took was a half-baked lie, some silver-tongued manipulation, and a knack for reading hearts.
Lucky for Little Ace, it had all three.
It leaped onto the balcony railing, watching Soyo vanish into the city's shadows. Memories of her surfaced in its mind.
The moment Little Ace saw Soyo, it knew she was perfect. Her heart burned with longing, born from her shattered family. If she wanted to piece it back together, Little Ace, a master of puppet strings, could "help"—for as long as it suited its plans. These girls were just pawns, after all.
But when they actually talked, Little Ace realized Soyo wasn't chasing her father's return anymore. Her longing stemmed from a deeper fear: the terror of loss itself.
If even her own father could vanish without a word, what could she ever hold onto?
Once it saw that, Little Ace knew how to play her. Feed into her fear of loss, set a verbal trap, and guide her to voice the wish it wanted to hear—
"I wish that no matter what I lose, I can always take it back…"
Bingo. A word game. Not "never lose," but "take it back." As long as there was a glimmer of hope for recovery—even if those things never returned to her hands—it wasn't Little Ace's fault.
And now, after "helping" her reclaim lost memories, Soyo's trust in Little Ace was practically blind.
The white demon lurked in the shadows, letting out a low, wicked laugh.
(Chapter End)