"Rewinding time... after death?"
Hachiman's eyes lit up, a dangerous spark of inspiration flickering behind his heavy lids. Beside him, Yukino was grappling with a conflict far more agonizing than his own.
They were both sharp enough to follow the logic to its ultimate conclusion. Is there a limit to these resets? If there wasn't, then no matter how much she wanted to keep him safe, Yukino knew she could no longer justify standing in his way.
Hachiman was a pathologically altruistic cynic. Yukino knew this better than anyone. Would a man like him, knowing he held the power to overwrite a tragedy, truly stand by and watch his savior be slaughtered?
The answer was a resounding no. The only thing tethering him now was his sister, Komachi.
"Hikigaya-kun," Yukino whispered, her voice trembling but her gaze clear. She unclenched her fists, a look of somber resolution washing over her beautiful features. "No matter what... let's finish the video before we decide. Please?"
Hachiman had never seen the iron-willed Yukino look so fragile, yet so brilliantly resolute. In that moment, she reminded him of why he had been drawn to her in the first place—not for her sharp tongue, but for that radiant, uncompromising spirit. She was shining again, her usual defensive sarcasm replaced by a genuine, sun-like warmth.
"...Alright. I promise."
His vow was quiet, but it carried the weight of a blood pact. In the corner of the convenience store, the other patrons watched the two teenagers in their world of "youthful drama," sensing the gravity of the moment and choosing to remain silent observers.
[On the screen, Hachiman toyed with the idea of testing his new power. He held a stolen dagger against his stomach, tracing the line where Elsa's blade had been, but he ultimately lowered the weapon. He didn't need a second death to confirm the impossible.]
[The heavy gloom that had hung over his shoulders was gone. He stood tall, his usual slouch corrected by a newfound sense of purpose. He considered the possibility of parallel worlds, but dismissed it as a useless variable. Only one thing mattered: the current loop.]
["Even after being treated like a social pariah, and having my confession mocked until I was a laughingstock... I survived," Hachiman muttered to himself, his voice a low growl. "If I could survive the death of my social life, I'm not letting some 'Bowel Hunter' become my nightmare. Not a chance."]
"What is he doing? Is he... brainwashing himself?"
Many viewers were confused by his rambling. But Yukino, watching the Hachiman beside her wince at the public broadcast of his middle-school traumas, understood perfectly.
The Hachiman on the screen was building a fortress of logic. He was forcing himself to find a "selfish" reason to help Emilia because he refused to believe in the purity of his own kindness. He needed a motive—a grudge, a debt, a challenge—to ensure he wouldn't back down. Call it chuunibyou or call it a complex; it was the only way a man as twisted as Hachiman knew how to move forward.
["The Bowel Hunter killed me once. If I don't pay her back in kind, I'll never have a moment's peace. But I can't do it alone. I need muscle. I need... Emilia."]
["Out of the way! Move it, kid!"]
[Hachiman had been waiting in the alleyway. As Felt came leaping over the rooftops, he stepped aside just enough to intercept her path. Before she could vanish, his voice rang out, cold and calculating.]
["One hour from now, I will arrive at Old Man Rom's cellar with the owner of that insignia. We'll be bringing Holy Dragon Gold to buy it back. If you aren't there in thirty minutes, we'll consider the deal void and take the cellar by force. Think about the power of the girl chasing you, and choose wisely."]
["Wh-What?!"]
[Felt skidded to a halt, looking back at the man. He looked like a sinister strategist, his expression dripping with a dark, confident malice. He didn't look like a victim; he looked like the one holding all the cards.]
[Felt's first instinct was to kill him on the spot, but the sound of Emilia's approaching footsteps spurred her on. With a curse, she bolted, her destination shifting from her own hideout to Rom's cellar.]
["Now," Hachiman whispered, watching her disappear. "For the lead actress."]
"Unbelievable..."
Anastasia Hoshin, one of the Royal Candidates and a master merchant, stared at the screen with narrowed eyes. As a woman of profit, she couldn't fathom the risk Hachiman was taking. To have a power as world-shaking as Return by Death and use it to save a girl you've known for four hours? It was either the height of nobility or the peak of naivety.
Then it hit her. Those were the exact same traits people used to describe Emilia.
"Their compatibility is... terrifyingly perfect," Anastasia realized.
If Hachiman joined Emilia's camp, combining his information-gathering loops with the military and political might of Margrave Roswaal... the balance of the Royal Selection would be shattered.
In another part of the Capital, Crusch Karsten felt a similar pang of apprehension. She watched Hachiman's shadow on the screen, her jaw tightening.
"Don't team up. Please, don't team up," she muttered, her strategic mind already spinning. "Why couldn't I have been the one to find him first? This is going to be a headache."