Chapter Text
Universe Repent
Three months after the abduction of the students
Four weeks and five days after the arrival of Białas Sensei.
#####
After six months of the Tea Party trio’s insane antics, Hanako could barely wait to show them the long-overdue consequences.
“Good morning, Kirifiji-san. Yurizono-san,” Hanako greeted them, forcing herself not to give in to her urges—even though she desperately wanted to let them see exactly what was playing in her soul. That’s why her face wore a kind, yet utterly fake smile.
Justice, after all, was supposed to be on her side.
So Hanako kept up her image of the good little girl, even though she had never been one—and certainly not after everything that had happened. Deep inside, though, she reveled in the unease painted across Nagisa’s and Seia’s faces.Speaking of which… Nagisa and Seia.
Where was the third little slut?
That’s what Hanako was thinking, though she kept her façade intact and simply said:
“I would ask Misono-san next, but… it seems she’s not here.”Hanako’s eyes betrayed what she was really thinking.
Nagisa and Seia felt fear—and worry for Mika—creep in.
Hanako was furious.
“Since you brought it up…” One of the Arius students standing to Hanako’s right suddenly barked, “Hey! Where’s that witch?!”
Literally and figuratively—she was aiming her rifle straight at Nagisa. Her tone was as cold as ice and venomous as a viper.
As if she were talking about a wanted criminal… which, to be fair, wasn’t far from the truth.
Nagisa flinched at hearing the old insult directed at her best friend and glared daggers at the masked Arius girl.
The only one who didn’t react that way was Seia, who merely clicked her tongue in contempt at the mention of Mika.
“Tch. She’s probably out witch-hunting right now… It suits her,” Seia said sarcastically, ignoring everyone—especially the Arius students whose trigger fingers were itching.
She also ignored Nagisa, fixing her with a poisonous glare.
Nagisa tried the diplomatic route, necessary to keep a united front.
“Seia-san!” she called formally. “I understand you dislike my friend, but Mika-san is a member of the Tea Party.”
Seia rolled her eyes.
“Please speak of her with respect…”Nagisa never finished. Something slammed hard. She instinctively closed her eyes, thinking she’d been hit—but no.
Though when she saw the Arius girl raising the rifle butt toward her face, it was clear she was about to see stars any second.
Stars did have something in common with the situation, because the girl now turning to look behind her looked like… a typical student from the era of the fake Sensei who had deceived them all.
At the memory of that… fraud… Nagisa grimaced.
How could she have been so stupid?
But she had no time for painful reminiscing, because the reason for the joy on the faces of the Arius girls had just revealed itself. And the brief twitch on Hanako’s face.
Nagisa and Seia noticed it and wondered what had caused it.
“Heya!” they heard a voice they knew all too well. For a split second, hope flickered—but it died the moment they realized none of their opponents reacted positively to that voice.
Unless…“Mika-sama!” the Arius students shouted in unison.
They quickly parted, and before the eyes of the Tea Party leaders appeared…
Two Misono Mikas.
One looked like a terrified wild animal—a mouse, constantly glancing around. Her uniform was torn to shreds, barely covering what was left of her underwear.
The other wore a slightly different outfit.
For starters, she had a strange square academic cap on her head with a small crowned eagle perched on an Amazonian shield bearing the SCHALE logo.
The rest was different too—most notably the cloak that reached only to the part of the back that loses its noble name. It was blood-red.
Under the cloak was a dress that was sort of familiar yet clearly altered. The base color and cut were the same, but there were far more decorations—beautiful floral patterns stitched onto the fabric.
Yet those patterns… were placed as if they were meant to hide something. As if the dress had been damaged and someone had creatively repaired it.On this Mika’s face was a cheerful smile—genuinely warm.
When her gaze met Nagisa’s and Seia’s, it didn’t falter for even a second.
Worse—it grew even warmer.
“Nagisa!” Nagisa winced.
“Seia!” Seia looked away.
They couldn’t bear the warmth from this Mika—so happy, so carefree. It burned them far worse than the coldest, most vicious hostility from Hanako and her guards.
Hanako, meanwhile, was livid.
Revenge—no, JUSTICE—was slipping from her grasp.
More precisely, the chance to deliver it.
Why?
Because she knew HE had his fingers in this now.
“I brought your friend back,” the capped Mika announced, lifting the terrified Mika… by the scruff of her neck.
Like a cat.
“You know it’s not wise to leave someone in need all alone, right?” she asked lightly, but her eyes held the full awareness that she was twisting the knife.
“I would know… because in isolation, it’s easy…” Suddenly all warmth vanished from her face, replaced by something…
Something that had appeared more and more often lately on their Mika’s face.
Something that, back in the fake Sensei’s time, had been directed at the real Sensei.
That soulless, smiling mask of madness.
She was insane… an insane princess.
And they knew the only leash keeping her as the “nice” Mika was held by someone they feared even more than their own absolutely furious Sensei.
“…to go… i-n-s-a-n-e…” she spelled out slowly, deliberately.
“Right, Hanako?” she turned directly to the other pink-haired girl.
“Yes,” Hanako replied.
Inside, she was darkly thrilled on one hand—finally the third of those dick-obsessed whores had shown up.
On the other… this Mika’s presence was ruining her plans.
She wasn’t happy about it.
Still, she decided to keep up the act, clinging to the faint hope that this Mika was like the one she knew.
A thin hope—and she knew it.“Great!” the capped Mika said casually.
And here was something everyone had already noticed: this Mika’s Japanese was noticeably different.
She never used surnames.
She always addressed people by first name, polite forms were rare and limited to the most common ones.
She didn’t maintain social distance and was disarmingly direct.
Their own Mika was similar in personality, but there’s a difference between character and simply how someone speaks a language.
Even when this one spoke formally and politely, you could feel the difference.
“Please sit,” the capped Mika said gently to the terrified one as she guided her to her chair.
“Would you like something to drink? Tea, maybe?” she added when the other nodded nervously.
She immediately began preparing tea—here her perfect lady’s etiquette really shone through.
Still, there were subtle differences in her movements and their order.
Hardly surprising… because this Mika came from another universe.
She wasn’t a copy of their Mika; she was her own person.
Hanako waited until the capped Mika had finished making tea for the terrified one. Only then did she get to the point.
“Well then… let’s get to the heart of the matter,” she informed the three Tea Party leaders. “We’re here because… we have a question.”
Nagisa clenched her fists. Seia stared intently. The terrified Mika… was terrified.
She stared at the floor, pretending she wasn’t there.
“Exactly!” the girl who had nearly butt-stroked Nagisa earlier snapped. “Spit it out, bitch—” she snarled, grabbing Nagisa by the collar. “How did Toki know where the Arius squad was?”
“What?” Nagisa asked blankly, then felt a dull blow to the face—right in the eye.
“Don’t lie, you bitch!” the girl roared. “You set them up to be slaughtered!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Nagisa lied so smoothly… that it only proved one thing.
She had long ago convinced herself it was true just to quiet her own conscience.
Unfortunately, like all lies, it remained a lie.
A description of things that never happened.
And the truth—even if buried deep as diamonds—always comes out. Nagisa knew that perfectly well.
As did her accuser.
The furious girl slapped her hard across the right cheek.
Hanako smiled.
Before Nagisa could even touch her face to check what happened, another slap was already coming.
It would have landed… if someone hadn’t caught the Arius girl’s wrist in an iron grip.
It was Mika.
And her eyes were ice-cold.
The Arius girl froze in fear seeing her idol like this. “S-sor—”
“Harumi,” the capped Mika called the girl by name, with no trace of her usual cheer.
“Drop and give me twenty push-ups. Now!” she ordered sternly when the girl hesitated.
Harumi instantly dropped and started doing punishment push-ups.
The capped Mika left her to it and turned to Nagisa—much to Hanako’s irritation. She raised an eyebrow, then checked the injury.
The capped Mika had already noticed that students here bruised far more easily than in her world.
For that matter, the local Mika had somehow nearly severed the local Hina’s legs.
She seriously doubted anyone could do something like that to her Hina with a chainsaw.
“You’ll do forty more,” she finally told Harumi. “Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am!” came the disciplined reply. “Good,” the capped Mika said, satisfied.
She reached into the bag slung over her shoulder and pulled out a spray that reduced bruises and similar injuries.It was unfortunately cold when applied and stung a bit.
“Close your eye, Nagisa,” she asked gently. Nagisa obeyed.
Mika applied the foam with practiced efficiency and put the spray away. “Don’t open that eye for about fifteen minutes, okay?”
Nagisa nodded.
“All right…” she began lightly. “Tell me honestly…” Fear gripped Nagisa’s heart. “…did the Tea Party neglect its duty?”
She asked it so convincingly and kindly that Nagisa simply had to tell the truth.“Yes,” she admitted.
The Arius students erupted.
“Traitor!”
“Bitch!”
They were about to add more—exactly what Hanako wanted—but the capped Mika glanced back, and they fell silent as if she’d stolen their voices.
She looked Nagisa straight in the eye. Nagisa wanted to look away, burning with shame.
But she couldn’t.
She met Mika’s gaze and saw… sorrow.
Sorrow, sadness, and compassion.
Everything she hadn’t expected.
You could sum it up in one word.
Mercy.
And that hurt a thousand times more than the insults from Arius or Hanako’s thirst for revenge.
“You’re lucky…” she began, and Nagisa already felt her heart being torn to pieces. “…that Mari was nearby when it happened.”
Nagisa knew that all too well.
“Only because she was there did Toki not slaughter the entire Arius squad. They survived because of her.”
Nagisa knew there were no words or riches that could ever repay that nun.
A real nun, mind you—not whatever passed for one here.
“But it was by the skin of their teeth,” she added painfully. “Though I can see you already know that perfectly well.”
“Yes,” Nagisa answered in a breaking voice. “I know!” Tears welled in her eyes.
That… pissed off Arius even more, didn’t it?
She knew and still did what she did?
Shameless whore.
They were about to teach her a lesson, but Mika glanced at them again and they froze.
She had only one thing to say.
“What you’re doing…” she began coldly, “…only reflects on you.” She turned back to Nagisa. “And I am disappointed in you.”
I am disappointed in you.
That was all it took for Hanako to lose control over them.
That was all it took for Arius to lower their rifles and stay silent for the rest of the meeting.
Hanako was furious.
She had just lost good soldiers who could have helped her whip Trinity into shape.
And all because of that damn Misono Mika.
Still, she shook off the anger.
No point raging—she had an ace up her sleeve.
“Would you care to take a look at these, Kirifiji-san, Yurizono-san?” she asked the two with fake politeness, gesturing for the documents to be placed on the table.
The tearful Nagisa and the composed Seia looked over the papers. Even the terrified Mika peeked.
But not the capped one. She already knew what they said. And she wasn’t happy.
“Fifty percent of the authority in the Tea Party is to be transferred to a new member—Urawa Hanako?!” Nagisa read in shock, her voice still trembling.
“Signed by… Schale and the GSC…” Seia said slowly, staring at Hanako in disbelief.
The capped Mika frowned.
This was unnecessary… or, as her Sensei had once perfectly put it:
“You’d have to be a brainless rock not to realize where this is heading.”
They were official documents confirming Hanako’s appointment as the fourth—and effectively tsarist—member of the Tea Party, backed of course by Schale and the General Student Council.
Of course, the three Tea Party leaders saw a glimmer of hope.
Hanako’s authority was only 50%, and only with external backing.
Without the support of the school clubs—who would naturally oppose such interference in Trinity’s internal affairs—Hanako as sole ruler of Trinity would be a legal fiction.
No one would obey her.
Together, Nagisa, Mika, and Seia controlled 70%, reducing Hanako’s fictional 50% to barely 30%… maybe even 20%.
Nagisa smiled. “You’re… very dangerous, Hanako-san,” she said confidently. “But these papers won’t achieve as much as you thought.”
She sounded almost amused. “You can’t just ignore Trinity’s long-standing, respected traditions.”
“If you plan to lead this academy,” Seia added mockingly, “you have to follow Trinity’s laws.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “Come back when you’ve convinced the clubs,” she finished with a nasty smirk.
Hanako giggled. “Why don’t you turn to the next page?” she said confidently.Nagisa and Seia quickly flipped the page.
The terrified Mika glanced at Hanako, dreading her next move.
The capped Mika simply stood and waited.
For some reason Hanako felt a slight chill.
She’s planning something, Hanako thought.
And when they read the next few pages, the three Tea Party leaders were speechless.
Every single important club and their leaders had signed—perfect forgeries, every distinctive handwriting flawlessly reproduced.
All in agreement with Hanako.
Seia began stammering. “This is… JTF… Sisterhood… Remedial Knights… Everyone signed… for you…?”
Nagisa, horrified, asked, “When did you…?”
Hanako cut her off with dark amusement. “On the way here, of course~” she answered with a huge smile, but her eyes shone with sadistic glee.
“Some were so eager they came to me before I even visited their clubs!” she declared.
The capped Mika watched her carefully.
“You know, collecting every signature took me less than an hour before I got here?” Hanako giggled.
“I’m just so delighted that everyone can’t wait to work with me~” she concluded cheerfully.
Nagisa and Seia felt the life drain out of them. The papers slipped from their hands—except one page, the one with the signatures, which the capped Mika caught mid-air.
Any plans of resistance from Nagisa and Seia crumbled before they even began.
Because every major club now backed Hanako, she was the one with 70% to their pathetic 30%.
Soon Hanako gathered the documents—except the one the capped Mika still held—and put them away.
There was no longer any reason to show them to the two “former” leaders. She had already gotten what she wanted.
The hopeless faces of the snake queens.
Their power stripped away before their eyes.
Hanako smiled wickedly. “So you see, Kirifiji-san, Yurizono-san, Misono-san. I believe it’s fair to say… THE GAME WAS RIGGED FROM THE START.”
That’s when the capped Mika cut in.“You didn’t have time to make a copy, did you, Hanako?” she asked the triumphant girl.
Thrown off rhythm, Hanako answered slowly, “Yes?”
The capped Mika suddenly grinned.
Then—in one swift motion—she tore the page to shreds.
Hanako felt the ground vanish beneath her. “What are you doing with that paper, Mika-san!” she asked, as calmly as she could while visibly losing her mind.
“What paper?” the capped Mika replied innocently, as if she weren’t holding the remains balled up in her right hand.
“The one with the signatures…” Hanako hissed through clenched teeth. “That you just tore up!” She jabbed an enraged finger at her.
The capped Mika answered first. “Oh, you mean that collection of letters constituting a blatant violation of Trinity law, obtained through coercion and therefore invalid the moment the pen touched the paper, and so on and so forth?”
Hanako could no longer contain her rage—but it wasn’t over.
Because the capped Mika did something even worse.
In a few quick bites, she ate what was left of the document.
Something inside Hanako snapped.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said after swallowing, deliberately rubbing her stomach.
“Do you?” she asked in the most unserious tone possible.
Hanako growled and lunged at her—only to feel the cold barrel of a pistol under her chin before she could blink.
In a single instant the capped Mika was right beside her, utterly amused at the foolish attempt to challenge her on the field of violence.
“You’re not the Hanako-chan I know,” she said cheerfully. “She can fight—and fight well…”
Suddenly her face twisted into madness. “Can you?”
Hanako felt raw terror.
She was afraid to fight her own Mika—the witch, the gorilla, all of it.
But this Mika? This… Battlefield Witch?
It was the primal fear of prey staring at a predator who enjoys playing with its food.
“No,” Hanako answered, now calm. “I can’t fight like that…” She suddenly tried to joke, “I’m just a perverted girl who runs around school in a swimsuit… hahaha.”
The capped Mika stared at her with eyes of pure insanity… then closed them and the cheerful Mika returned.
“Exactly!” She stepped away from Hanako—who nearly collapsed in relief—and clutched her stomach laughing.
“That’s all you are!” Her eyes closed and opened again—pure madness. “Just an arrogant little girl who never learned one simple lesson.”
“What lesson?” Hanako asked, trembling uncontrollably despite trying to keep her composure.
“Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas,” the capped Mika answered calmly, then closed her eyes and spoke in her normal voice again. “And I hope you remember how great a vanity hatred is?”
Hanako knew it wasn’t a question.
It was an order.
#####
While Hanako was learning the lesson of her life, her friends… well.
Let’s start with Hifumi.
Our humble poster girl, the heroine of the Eden Treaty, was packing the very last item into a cardboard box.
With a heavy heart she closed the lid, and with an even heavier one she looked around her room.
It looked exactly the same as the day she first arrived at Trinity.
Empty… and dull.
She sighed deeply.
“That’s probably everything…” she began, but her heart simply didn’t want this.
“Except for that one thing…” she said when her eyes landed on the only object her heart refused to let go of.
Her mind, however, had already found the perfect excuse.
Still… she felt she had to get rid of it in order to “grow up.”
Because adults don’t play with Peroro merchandise.
“I’m really sorry, Peroro-sama,” she said to the backpack as though it were a living person.
“But for Sensei’s sake…” she continued, tasting bitterness on her tongue, “I have to do everything in my power to help him.”
She meant it sincerely.
A heavy silence fell… because now she was about to make an important vow.
“I have to become a better person than… ‘that’ person.”
She finally said it, and the words burned her tongue.
It hurt.
It was unpleasant.
Wrong.
A lie.
Her fists clenched. She had made up her mind.
She checked the time and noted bitterly that the meeting with Hanako was approaching.
She would be late if she didn’t decide now, but it was harder than she had imagined.
Much harder… and she already wanted to take it back.
She didn’t want to part with Peroro-sama.
The very thought made her grimace.
She felt she shouldn’t leave the backpack behind. Her Peroro-sama.
But the stronger part of her—the part that gave her self-discipline—reminded her of the promise she had made.
She had to grow up.
Even if it cost her herself.
“Even if that means I have to leave you here…” she added to the backpack, trying not to cry.
“B-but I promise I’ll come back to visit you!” she blurted out, voice cracking.
“Every day!” she added, as if speaking to someone real.
“So please…” her voice broke for a moment. “Wait for me here, okay?” she asked with a forced smile.
But the smile was sour as an extremely sour lemon.
Not wanting to drag it out any longer—afraid of how much it would hurt—she quickly turned her back on the backpack and headed for the door.
She could always put the box in the closet tomorrow… right?
Suddenly someone knocked.
Hifumi jumped.
Her heart went wild.
She didn’t want anyone to see her room today.
Not while she still hadn’t gotten used to its new state.
But the voice that came from the other side of the door shattered her resistance.
“Miss Hifumi…”
She knew that male voice.
She had only known it for a short while… but… she wasn’t sure what the “but” was.
She just… felt that she liked it?
The owner of the voice, that is… she shook her head.
Not the time!
She pushed the treacherous—yet true—thought away.
“May I come in?” the man she had met only recently asked politely.
Only two men had ever asked her that question.
Her Sensei… and that Faker.
At the memory of the latter, her face twisted in rare anger—rare for her, at least until recently.
But the anger quickly faded; she knew it would upset the man behind the door more than it theoretically should.
But hey… he was a Sensei too, wasn’t he?
“Yes, you may, Białas Sensei!” she answered in a sing-song voice, struggling terribly with his surname.
It wasn’t a natural combination of sounds for her.
A moment later the door opened, and framed in the hallway light stood a man as tall as Hasumi.
He wore a green uniform with a distinctive collar embroidered with a pattern.
In his language they were called “wężyki.”
On his head was an unusual cap—she had never seen anything like it until she met him.
But she thought it was cool because of how unique it was.
The man looked at her with warm brown eyes, then swept his gaze across the room, analyzing every corner.
Soon his eyes returned to Hifumi, and she already knew: he was sad.
She lowered her head.
He has his own Hifumi, after all!
He must have been in her room and knows exactly how hers should look!
Białas Sensei sighed heavily, then flicked on the light, banishing the darkness.
“We don’t sit in the dark, Hifumi,” he gently scolded, stepping inside.
His gaze lingered for a moment on the large box where she had packed away her Peroro merchandise, then on the backpack sitting in the window.
“I see you’ve tidied up,” he remarked calmly, but Hifumi already knew this conversation was coming.
“Here…” As always, he produced something from thin air—like in a video game—a pack of chocolate bars.
Kinder Bueno.
She had grown fond of them.
“Eat them…” he added, then a mischievous grin appeared on his face, “as a reward for cleaning your room!”
Hifumi gave a weak smile… then took the chocolates.
She opened the pack, pulled one out of the foil, and bit into it.
They tasted exactly the same as always.
But she felt awful.
Why was Białas Sensei always so cheerful?
Why couldn’t her Sensei joke like that anymore?
Why?!
She squeezed her eyes shut; tears gathered in the corners.
She wanted to cry.
The pain in her heart was written all over her face.
It lasted a long moment… until she felt a hand on her head.
“Don’t hold it in…” she heard the soothing voice. “Hifumi.”
The moment her name left his lips, she burst into tears with everything she had.
Tears streamed down her face… her whole body shook, her nose kept sniffling.
Chocolate smeared around her mouth, its sweetness trying to make life a little better.
But it couldn’t. It was nothing.
Not what she needed.
She needed…Białas Sensei pulled her close, and without thinking—out of sheer hopelessness—she clung to him tightly.
Her crying quieted, muffled by the fabric of his uniform.
Yet it continued; Białas Sensei could feel it perfectly.
He kept stroking her hair… and even began humming.
Then singing softly.
Hifumi didn’t understand the words, but it was adorable.
The deep bass of Sensei’s voice was pleasant to listen to when he sang quietly.
The foreign language tickled her ears delightfully.
Slowly, she calmed down.
Finally she stopped crying and pulled away.
Her eyes were red from tears.
She sniffled every few seconds.
And on Sensei’s face… she saw what she had truly been missing from her own Sensei.
That warmth.
They looked into each other’s eyes for a while until Sensei nodded toward her bed.
“Come,” he said calmly. “Let’s sit.”
Hifumi nodded, and soon they were sitting side by side on the bed.
The girl’s eyes were fixed downward… trying to avoid the box.
Silence fell.
The wall clock ticked its leisurely rhythm.
Sensei waited patiently for Hifumi to gather her courage.
And he waited… though it took several long minutes.
“Białas Sensei,” she finally began when she found the strength.
“What does it mean to be an adult?”
Białas paused before answering. He had an answer ready, but he wanted to think how best to phrase it for Hifumi… and tease her a little.
When he decided it had been long enough, he replied.
“The idea of being an adult is…” he made a theatrical pause, “comically simple.”
Hifumi blinked. “How so?”
“Yes, exactly that,” the amused man answered.
“It comes down to realizing one simple thing: that YOU…” he pointed at Hifumi, “make the decisions in your life, and YOU…” he pointed again, “bear their consequences—no matter what they are—with full responsibility, without running away from them.”
Hifumi blinked a few times. “That… simple?”
“Morality…” Białas began with a sigh, “is by nature incredibly simple and clear…” he clicked his tongue, “which is why people love inventing cheap excuses—the more complicated, the better…”
He looked straight into Hifumi’s eyes, sincere.
“Because that way they don’t have to feel their conscience burning them.”
Hifumi thought about his words for a moment.
She nodded slightly before asking, “So… an adult can still like Peroro-sama?”
Białas chuckled softly. Hifumi blushed. “Absolutely, my dear Hifumi, absolutely…”
His smile faded. “Otherwise you’d go mad,” he added sadly.
Hifumi suddenly felt a huge weight lift from her heart.
Moreover… she glanced at her backpack. She didn’t have to abandon it in the dark!
Yet another thought came to her—treacherous, like all those other girls.
A thought that had been living in her head for some time.
An idea born from meeting this Sensei.
And she knew she could only confess it to him without facing consequences for being… the same as the traitors to Sensei.
“And… is my Sensei an adult?”
“He was.” The answer came instantly, spoken in a stern tone.
Hifumi froze at the grim look on Białas Sensei’s face.
She had known for a while that the relationship between her Sensei and this one was far from good—and getting worse by the day.
But now she understood one thing.
Białas Sensei… despised her Sensei.
And the worst part… she shared the reason why, to her, her own Sensei was… no longer the person she wanted as Sensei.
She wanted the one sitting beside her to guide her into adulthood.
Not that… irritable, vengeance-obsessed maniac.
“So I was right…” she finally whispered what had been in her heart.
Białas understood she had been carrying this for a long time.
“Is there any way to stop him?” She asked pleadingly of the stranger—no.
Her new Sensei.
Białas saw it in her eyes… then, with pain in his heart—and not hiding it—hugged Hifumi close.
He kissed her forehead and said, “For him…” he clicked his tongue, “the one who rejects redemption and therefore salvation…” he sighed heavily.
“I think there is only one path left.”
Hifumi trembled.
She felt like crying again.
Crying because her worst fears were being confirmed.
The one who had been her Sensei… had gone too far for reason to reach him anymore.
“That’s why I have a request for you,” he said suddenly, pulling away and surprising her.
“I want you to help me stop this madness before it reaches its logical conclusion,” he said, completely serious now.
Hifumi looked at him in shock, then sadly lowered her head.
“But how…?” she asked quietly. “I’m weak and childi—”
“You are strong, and I actually think you’re already quite grown-up,” Białas interrupted.
Hifumi stared at him, stunned. “You saved the day once before… remember?”
Hifumi looked at him in amazement… then suddenly remembered that day—no less dark than today.Back when Sensei was still Sensei.
And she felt ashamed. “But that was—”
“Exactly what is needed to stop evil in this world,” Białas replied calmly.
“Do you know how evil is stopped?” he asked with a faint smile.
Hifumi immediately shook her head—Białas mentally cursed a blue streak.
She had forgotten that lesson because of that… “Sensei.”
He decided to teach it again.
“Evil is not stopped with bullets…” he began calmly, “swords, or spears.”
Hifumi listened intently, her ears drinking in every word.
Greedily… because she had truly missed this tone.
“It is not defeated in great battles nor destroyed with some ultimate weapon of ultimate,” he made a small joke.
“Because that only delays its march… for a moment…” he paused, “and ultimately feeds evil itself,” he added grimly.
Hifumi winced at the tone.
“Evil is defeated… where it never expects a threat.”
Her new Sensei’s smile returned.
“In simple gestures, joy, kindness, and…” he paused longer, “forgiveness—with acceptance of one’s sins.”
It dawned on Hifumi… and her face darkened.
She looked pained.
She finally understood why nothing had changed—and why things were even worse.
Her former Sensei may have won the battle against the Faker, but he lost the war against the real enemy… and worse, he had become its faithful servant.
And he demanded she join him… surrender to that slavery.
Because after all… Sensei wasn’t evil, right?
She had been loyal to him… and he had apologized to her for being weak.
And yes.
He is weak.
Because in the moment of trial… he failed before he even tried.
Actually, he didn’t even fail.
He willingly surrendered and swore allegiance to a new master.
And that master rewarded him richly.Kivotos.
Hifumi suddenly felt pale terror… she understood a cruel truth.
A truth she had probably heard in church during mass, hadn’t she?
With fear in her eyes she whimpered to Białas, “Sensei!”
And Białas Sensei grew gravely serious.
He knew she had finally grasped the lesson everyone loved to avoid.
At last… but only now.
And only because of his intervention.
Without him… she would have walked that path to her own doom.
And the worst part…She would have jumped into the cauldron with a smile.
Just to please Hanako.
Just to remain loyal to Sensei.
Even beyond the grave.
Until the stars went out…
Terror gripped her heart. She had been so close!
So very close!
Sobbing, she threw herself at Białas again to cry.
To cry painfully.“I’m so stupid!” she wailed loudly, and with a quiet sigh Sensei began stroking her again.
“Only naïve,” he calmly corrected. “And naïveté is not stupidity—it’s lack of experience.” A rather grim truth.
Hifumi sobbed in response… unable to say a word.
Białas understood, which is why he added, “Cry as much as you need…” Hifumi immediately obeyed. “Not all tears are bad.”
He hugged her tighter.
“Sometimes we simply need them,” he said after a long moment, seemingly calm. But with a catch.
A catch Hifumi had never seen nor heard.
That Białas felt like crying too. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes… but he didn’t let a single one fall.
Though sorrow crushed him mercilessly.
Sorrow stronger than anger at this world.
At this Kivotos and… at the one who was truly responsible for the state of things.
Because unfortunately he was more than just a Sensei or an ordinary human.
And he knew a little about the nature of the universe… or rather, how the multiverse truly looked.
Several minutes passed.
The time for the meeting with Hanako had long since passed.
Hifumi no longer cared. She didn’t want to.
She had lost all her earlier resolve in mere moments… and she was glad.
She didn’t know one thing: that Białas had already dealt with Hanako long ago, and the new “host” of Trinity was currently sitting in her room wondering where everything had gone so wrong.
The lesson Mika had taught her was lodged in her head like a screw in a tire, slowly letting the air out.
Hanako was gradually losing the will… to do what she had planned.
But like screws, many are insidious.
Once embedded… the air leaks very slowly—sometimes for weeks before the driver notices something is wrong with the tire.
And sometimes it’s too late when they do, and a nasty surprise awaits.
For Białas it didn’t matter when Hanako realized; what mattered was that he had succeeded.
All that remained was to wait for the results.
Just like now… as he patiently waited, giving Hifumi what she truly needed until she stopped crying.
Because he still had a few words for her.
A longer moment passed before Hifumi was only breathing calmly.
When she turned her head to breathe better, Sensei knew it was time.
“So, Hifumi…” he began slowly. “Will you help?”
“I will.” The answer came instantly.
No hesitation like when she wanted to abandon her toy.
And she wasn’t surprised why.
Because this was something… she wanted to do.
No.
This was something that had to be done.
Białas smiled at her answer.
“Thank you,” he said sincerely… then sighed, because he had one more thing to ask.
One born as part of Plan Z. Meaning…
“Just one more question for you, Miss Hifumi,” he began formally, gently lifting her chin so she would look him in the face.
Her face was very red from crying and exhausted from pain.
But in her eyes was… peace.
Such a small thing, yet it delighted Białas—who could read eyes—like almost nothing else.
Because he hadn’t seen that in this Hifumi since he arrived.
There had always been something else. Fear, anger, anxiety… sometimes joy, but heavily muted.
“Yes, Sensei?” she asked expectantly.
“I have a proposal for you…” Białas began slowly, searching for words.
“You don’t have to answer right away…” Hifumi looked surprised.
“Because this question concerns a situation we’d rather avoid, only if everything…” he clicked his tongue, “goes to hell.”
Hifumi blinked… it was the first time she had seen Białas Sensei with such an expression.
So incredibly serious and betraying worry.
“What kind of proposal?” she asked confidently, wanting to reassure him.
Sensei closed his eyes for a moment, then exhaled and said,
“You see, if the worst happens and we really can’t stop the madness here…” he paused to look into her trusting eyes.
It stung him.“…would you be willing to leave this Kivotos with us and come to ours?”
Hifumi felt time suddenly stop.
Leave this Kivotos?
Go to the Kivotos of Białas Sensei, Mika, and Yuuki?
The foreign Trinity that Mari and Shimiko came from?
A different Hyakkiyako where Wakamo and Izuna belong?
The technological fortress of mysteries—Millennium—home to Akane and Chihiro?
The wild yet charming Gehenna that Ibuki and Chinatsu attend?
The dystopian Arius rising from ruins where Subaru and Atsuko live?
The never-disbanded SRT where Miyako and Otogi serve?
Eternal as sand and no less populous—Abydos of Serika and Hoshino?
The mysterious and beautiful Shanhaijing of Mina and Konona?
The giant-hearted Red Winter of Minori and Tomoe?
Schools she knew yet somehow larger and stranger?
She had actually dreamed of visiting them; she had wanted to ask Białas Sensei to take her on a trip.
To introduce her to the Hifumi from over there.
But this was something else.
This was leaving… forever.
Never to return.
Hifumi felt the weight… and realized she was facing a truly adult decision.
And strangely… the decision wasn’t terrifying; it wasn’t unimaginable.
Moreover, no matter what she chose… the worst would have to happen first for it to come into play.
And she already knew that if it did…
“I want to,” Hifumi answered after thinking.
“If this Kivotos falls, I want to leave.” Her voice carried a certainty she hadn’t had when speaking to Peroro-sama.
“I’ve already tasted the antechamber; I don’t want to enter the house,” she said—so surprisingly poetic and wise that she surprised even herself.
Sensei chuckled sincerely.
“You’re absolutely right…” he chuckled again, trying to keep a straight face, “my dear Hifumi.”
Hifumi felt happiness bloom when she heard those last words.
All the greater because her “Sensei” had never said anything like it.
And suddenly it hit her painfully. The reason Faker had seized power so easily!
“Sensei,” she called out suddenly, extremely serious, and Białas quickly calmed down because of it.
“My Sensei really is stupid, isn’t he?”
Białas raised his eyebrows. “And what makes you so certain, my dear Hifumi?” he asked… deliberately phrasing it that way.
“Because Sensei never—never to anyone, at least as far as I know—called anyone ‘my dear’ or ‘darling.’” Hifumi explained.
“It was always… some kind of…” she searched for the word.
“Barrier he called ‘professionalism,’” Białas finished for her.
“You’re right—that’s why your Sensei is stupid…” he raised one eyebrow. “Especially considering how he’s acting now after everything?”
Hifumi had only bitter words. “Like we were all his girlfriends who cheated on him with someone else.”
She nodded. “True, many of them were really awful and deserved punishment, but…”
“They already got it,” Sensei replied.
Hifumi nodded. “And he still wants more.”
“And he’ll never have enough, will he?” she asked sadly.
Białas shook his head.
“Never.”
He stared at the wall… clearly he had something wise left to say, but… he didn’t say it.
Instead a cheerful smile appeared.
“But let’s leave the darkness for today; it’s dark enough already.” He pointed happily at the window like a lark.
Hifumi snorted. “Yeah.”
She glanced at the box, which gave Sensei an idea.
“Since we’ve cleared that up…” he began slowly, and Hifumi turned her eyes back to him.
“I have something for you from my Hifumi.” He finished by pulling another object out of thin air as always.
It was… a Peroro poster she had never seen in her life.
“It’s apparently a rare one—she told me when she gave it to me to pass on to you,” Białas explained.
“I didn’t quite understand what was special about it, even though I know a bit about Peroro and Friends.” He added… with a cheerful smile, as if remembering something.
Hifumi was overjoyed like few others.
“Thank you!” she replied happily, accepting the gift… as if it weren’t from herself.
“Please tell her thank you!”
Białas nodded. “I will…” He glanced at the wall.
“So since you have it… shall we start redecorating your room with this one?” he suggested lightly.
Hifumi jumped off the bed immediately. “Yes!” she shouted happily, then quickly chose the perfect spot for the new poster.
Białas Sensei watched with an enormous smile. He was delighted.
Because the real Hifumi had returned—the one she was meant to be.
One could say he had succeeded… in capturing a pawn.
A damaged, scratched, slightly torn pawn that someone had thrown into a corner.
A pawn someone had tried to turn into a bishop.
Even though that’s impossible.
He had pulled it off the path that would have destroyed it, lightly restored it… and taken it for himself exactly as it was.
Because it was beautiful in the form it already had and perfect for the role it was born for.
And Bartłomiej Białas rejoices over every chess piece he owns… and treats them as if they had always been his.
From the very beginning.
Even if they hadn’t been.
Because now they are.
And thinking about pawns, when they finally finished—after a long, joyful session—restoring Hifumi’s room to how it used to be, Białas said something else to her.
“All right, now a present from me, okay?”
Hifumi immediately started bouncing a little. What could Sensei want to give her?
“It’s something different from Peroro…” he began slowly, pulling another small figure out of thin air.
Hifumi recognized it as a figurine of a priest… a rather young one, she noted.
“…but one I carved from wood myself… for you,” he announced, and Hifumi’s eyes went wide in surprise.
“I’d like you to take it and keep it in this room—and anywhere else you’ll be staying for a longer time,” he continued, handing her the hand-carved figure.
“All right?”
Hifumi nodded very quickly… then asked, “Who is it, Sensei?”
Białas Sensei smiled mysteriously. “Just a saint,” he said as if it were nothing.
“Stanisław Kostka…” he named the foreign name, but Hifumi memorized it instantly.
“…patron of…” Sensei continued slowly and unhurriedly, and Hifumi hung on every word,“…children and youth.”
Hifumi now understood what Sensei meant.
“So… will you?” Sensei asked gently.
“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “I’ll gladly accept him and keep him with me…” she paused for a moment.
“Always.” She said it with more certainty than anything else that day.
Sensei only smiled at the news.
#####
In one of Trinity’s many back alleys—this one looking worse than most, though lately the whole of Trinity had seen far better days—a tiny girl who looked like a cute plush angel was stuffing an enormous duffel bag.
The bag was so large that, once full, it would weigh roughly half as much as she did.
She was packing a staggering amount of gear whose sole purpose was to kill.
At least in our world.
In Kivotos, actually killing someone is notoriously difficult; the usual result is more like getting clubbed with a baseball bat.
But with the quantity this girl was preparing… murder was very much on the table.
And that was exactly her goal.
Murder.
Blood for blood.
An eye for an eye.
Death… for the mere attempt to bring it upon four people she considered sisters (though not by blood), and for what had already been done to one of them.
Five people were going to die for trying to take the lives of those four.
One of them had already been brutalized beyond recognition—limbs shattered, tortured to the absolute limit of what even the superhumanly resilient bodies of Kivotos students can endure.
That one was the object of particular contempt—no.
Hatred.
On the normally expressionless face of this tiny girl, a single emotion now burned.
Rage.
Rage born of despair, of fear, of what had happened to her sisters and how close they still were to death.
And rage feeds hatred perfectly.
One could say the would-be murderer had just done what a far crueler woman—the tyrant who once ruled the land where this girl was born and raised—had failed to do.
When she finished, she double-checked the five photographs tucked into a side pocket and the blueprints of certain buildings.
Then someone stepped into the alley.
“Azusa?”The worried voice made our Azusa freeze.
She snatched up a rifle, spun around in fury to gun down the cruel, lying traitor of a Sensei… only to realize she was facing the very person that traitor feared.
The one Azusa respected more than life itself and treated as another sister—one who had even less in common with her than the traitor did.
Because she wasn’t from this world.
“Sister Mari…” Azusa whispered in shock, then, embarrassed, lowered the weapon.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, suddenly worried for her sister-from-another-world, glancing around.
She knew full well that this Sister Mari could take care of herself far better than the traitorous Mari ever could.
In fact, she was even better than Azusa—and Azusa was no ordinary student.
She was a child soldier, raised on hatred, trained to torture and destroy every enemy of her “Lady.”
“Stopping a very naughty little girl,” Mari replied calmly, though with the faint disappointment of a mother or older sister.
Azusa shrank into herself.
She knew neither this Mari nor her Sensei would approve.
Azusa’s own Sensei wouldn’t have minded… but he wouldn’t have praised it either.
She had decided it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission.
Even if, lately, forgiveness from him was basically impossible to obtain.
“How did you know?” Azusa asked, knowing full well that honesty was the only option with this Sister.
She always knew anyway.
“You’re in one of the weapons caches Arius set up before the Eden Treaty,” Mari answered calmly.
“Saori told me where they were and what was in them…” She glanced at Azusa’s bag. “And that there’s enough explosives here to murder someone.”
“Not you,” Azusa blurted out instantly, as if that made it better.
“It would be hard for you to pick me as a target…” Mari joked lightly from the end of the alley.
“But you’re right—this much would probably just knock me out for a few days at most.”
Her smile vanished.
“But you, Saori, or…” she tilted her head, “…Toki…” she said slowly, and her eyes flashed dangerously in the dim light. “This would kill—or cripple permanently.”
Azusa hung her head.
She knew a lecture was coming.
She heard the steady click of Mari’s boots growing louder as the nun approached.
When the sound stopped right in front of her, Azusa closed her eyes the moment she saw Mari’s shoes.
She knew she was about to get an earful and a spanking.
Especially a spanking.
That’s what you do with bad children who don’t listen.
That’s what Beatrice used to do.
That’s what Sensei does now—and he’s frighteningly creative with punishments.
But nothing happened.
Instead, she felt… a hand gently placed on her head, followed by… what was it called again?
Patting?
She had received it a few times.
From Sensei, back before Faker.
Never since.
She missed it.
But she felt she didn’t deserve it, so she grabbed Mari’s hand—soft yet strong—and stopped it, then moved it away from her head.
Her expression was pained.
Mari just shook her head. “So you understand that what you’re doing… is wrong?”
Azusa grimaced.
“That…” Mari paused, searching for the right words, “…you’re proving Beatrice right?”
Mari’s expression wasn’t fully agreement
.“More that you resisted it for so long and were an example to your sisters, and now…” she clicked her tongue. “Well, look at what you’re doing.”
Azusa looked away.
Silence fell… for one long moment.
Then Azusa spoke, staring at Mari. “But they—!”
Mari looked at her wordlessly, without warmth. Azusa’s voice died in her throat.
Mari blinked once, twice, then said firmly, “I understand your pain and your desire…”
Her gaze flicked briefly to the left.
Azusa caught a flash of anger… and when she followed Mari’s line of sight to her own right, she saw the tower of the nearby church.
In an instant she understood: even someone as understanding as Mari despised and hated certain people.
And Azusa knew exactly why—she shared the feeling toward those same people.
Funny how something that began so warmly… ended up here.
Azusa remembered her first meeting with the traitorous Mari.
It had actually been a comical introduction—if you consider stumbling into improvised traps while trying to deliver “gratitude” from a student she had once helped.
Truly… that impostor managed to taint even happy memories with bitterness.
Azusa spat on the ground. Mari looked at her again.
“Leave them to me,” she said simply. Azusa nodded.
“Good. Now, back to the matter at hand…”Mari had to close her eyes to calm herself, but when she opened them again the anger was still there—faint as a shadow.
“It doesn’t excuse you in the slightest,” she said to Azusa, though the younger girl noticed Mari was also speaking to herself.
That habit of saying reminders out loud was unique to this Mari; Azusa couldn’t recall the traitorous Mari ever doing it.
A shame… maybe it would have stopped her.
Maybe.
“Vengeance is foreign to the Lord, and He despises it utterly,” Mari continued.
Azusa remembered the Old Stories from the Book—where the Lord could be vengeful like few others.
But then she recalled how this Sister Mari, when Azusa once pointed that out, had answered rather mysteriously:
“What binds us was given by the Greatest of Saints in His Good News… and the old stories…” she had smiled faintly, “are old stories we keep so we remember a certain truth… one we all see but do not understand… and that is for the best.”
To this day Azusa still wondered what she meant.
But she had taken the advice: focus only on the New Stories, and keep the Old ones like a collection of fairy tales in the corner—tales you read rarely, never to children, and never before you’re mature enough.
“He reminded us through His Messenger more than once,” Mari concluded.
Then a small, amused smile appeared.
“Because as you yourself know… Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas.”
Azusa had to admit it shocked her that she had independently figured out what that phrase really meant.
But she only learned the true meaning from Białas Sensei—Sister Mari’s Sensei.
Not before, not after.
“And what does Vanitas mean to you?” Azusa finished the thought aloud—the exact question Białas Sensei had ended his explanation with.
“Well… what does Vanitas mean to you, Azusa?” Mari asked, now warm but firm.
Azusa clutched her arm. She knew the answer… perfectly.
In fact, it was the very thing she had just surrendered to.
“I’m a hypocrite, aren’t I, Sister Mari?” she asked slowly, beginning to see what had possessed her.
Mari shook her head. “You’re only human,” she said soothingly. “And humans… are fallen.”
Azusa nodded. “And they will make mistakes… even ones that are hard to forgive.”
Her voice began to crack.“And what happens when you don’t forgive…?” Mari asked with a gentle smile.
“Then you keep dragging it behind you, and it drags you to the bottom,” Azusa answered, her thoughts a jumble of memories: the good days with Sensei, lessons from both Maris… and from Białas Sensei.
“So it’s better to forgive,” she added after a moment, “because then you toss the ball back to the other side instead of crushing yourself under the weight of the stone of hatred.”
Mari nodded, satisfied. “So what should you do?”
Azusa curled in on herself. “Forgive…” she answered bitterly. “Toki, despite everything…” she continued under Mari’s gaze. “And let her live with what she did.”
Mari raised her eyebrows. “Good…” she tilted her head. “So what will you do now?”
“I’ll put the explosives back…” Azusa began slowly, then steeled herself and met Mari’s eyes. “And I’ll go tell Toki that I forgive her for what she did.”
Mari nodded, then—to Azusa’s surprise—extended her hand.
“Give me the bag,” she said with a smile… and mischief in her eyes.
“It would be a shame to let all this go to waste here~ Who knows, it might come in handy someday?” she added in a singsong voice.
Azusa was stunned by Sister Mari’s behavior, but… she knew this Mari was wiser.
She slipped the bag off her shoulder and handed it over.
“Here you go, big sister Mari,” she said as she passed the strap into the nun’s hand.
Mari’s arm dipped briefly under the weight—she was genuinely surprised by how heavy it was, and thus by Azusa’s strength.
Then she slung it over her own shoulder and, still smiling, nodded toward the alley exit.
“Come on…” she began cheerfully. “The night is still young, and the last train to Millennium hasn’t left yet.”
Azusa felt her heart stop for a second… but she quickly shook it off.
Sister Mari was right—she had to do it now, while her heart was certain, not tomorrow.
Because tomorrow she might wake up feeling differently.
“Sure…” Azusa replied with a nod. “Sister Mari.”
And Mari was happy.
#####
Meanwhile, in a different place—the main office of Gehenna’s Prefect Team, the disciplinary service… well.
All hell was breaking loose.
A mug full of freshly brewed, scalding coffee smashed with full force into a certain girl’s face.
Ako.
Of course her halo protected her from burns or the cuts that shattering ceramic would inflict on normal human skin.
And Ako knew that.
The heat still seared her mercilessly, and the shards stung like needles. S
he howled in pain… but the real agony had a different source.
It came from her soul—now tormented like a sinner in hell.
Tormented by a devil in human skin.
A devil she had once admired… then betrayed… something she bitterly regretted.
But to that devil it no longer mattered.
“Do it again.” The words fell from her lips, utterly soulless.
They hurt Ako far more than the impact—especially when she saw the remains of the mug.
It was the one Ako had bought for Hina birthday.
She used to drink from it all the time… until those days.
And today it had been used to torment her.
Slowly Ako rose from the floor, helped by no one.
She knew no one would dare—everyone was too terrified.
It hurt her deeply… but she had expected it.
Hadn’t she once been exactly like them, letting the devil hurt others?
Unfortunately none of them were strong enough to stop the torment.
They were too weak… and human kindness was no longer something they could count on.
Not after what they had done.
Yet despite everything, rage was building inside Ako.
She understood that what they did was truly awful… but did Hina really have to be this petty?
If she hated them so much and wanted to punish them, why not just kick them out of the Prefects?
Then she’d never have to see them again.
Ako had been asking herself that question for two weeks.
Two long weeks… and today it was going to boil over.
She clenched her fists on the coffee-soaked carpet, knowing the devil would make her clean it up—of course—as part of her punishment for her crimes.
With the least suitable tools possible.
Because that’s what she felt like doing.
“No,” Ako finally said, rising slowly. “I won’t.” She said it as defiantly as she could.
“Head Prefect Hina.”
A second later another mug—this one empty but another former gift—slammed into her face.
“I believe I said something about how you’re supposed to address me… Amau,” Hina sneered, the contempt peaking on Ako’s surname.
“I don’t care,” Ako answered firmly.
She got another mug to the face—this one a Christmas present.
“And I don’t care what you don’t care about,” Hina replied coldly, eyes narrowed to slits.
“Nor what you do care about…” she added after a moment, her face twisting in fury. “Because when push comes to shove… you’ll betray it.”
Something inside Ako snapped.
“I DID IT ONLY TO PRO—” She took a paperweight to the side of the head. “—TECT YOU, HINA!” she screamed anyway.
Hina snarled like a rabid dog.
“AND WHAT DID THAT ACHIEVE, AMAU!?”
She shot to her feet—wincing in obvious pain—and stepped out from behind the desk, hiking up her now-longer skirt. Just enough to hide the visible scars below her knees.
The marks… of what was supposed to happen to Hina.
“DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE WHEN SOMEONE TRIES TO RIP YOUR LEGS OFF AND ALMOST SUCCEEDS!?” Hina pointed at the scars with one hand. “DO YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS WHEN YOUR BLOOD SPURTS OUT LIKE A FOUNTAIN!?”
Ako fell silent for a moment… then snarled back. “IT WOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU’D LISTENED TO MY ADVICE, HINA!”
Hina’s face contorted in rage.
And she proved that despite the pain where her legs had been saved, she was still fully combat-capable.
One moment she was at the desk; the next she was on Ako, both hands wrapped around her throat without a shred of mercy.
She intended to strangle her right here, right now.
Ako’s lies weren’t going to change that.
“Shove your advice where you’re going, Ako,” Hina growled with every word.
“We both know it didn’t come from good intentions or reason—just that you wanted me quiet so I wouldn’t interfere with your delusions about Faker…” Ako desperately grabbed Hina’s wrists.
But Hina used her wings to force her to let go. Those spikes weren’t decorative.
“And when it came down to it… you were the first to torment Sensei… even though he was the one actually helping us while the impostor…” Hina paused to glare at the other two.
Chinatsu and Iori, who in panic had tried to hide. “…could only do one thing for you…” She spat to the side. “Please you in bed, you little whores,” she finished with utter contempt.
She stared straight into Ako’s eyes. “You think I didn’t hear you screaming…” She glanced at the other two. “Or how much fun you were having in your not-so-secret spot when you ‘thanked’ Sensei for his help?”
Ako’s face turned terrified. “I was… stupid…” she wheezed.
“Yes…” Hina agreed with a murderous smile.
“And stupidity has a heavy price…” She squeezed harder. Ako felt the air—and her life—slipping away. “…very heavy.”
Hina preferred to ask Sensei for forgiveness rather than permission.
Not that she saw any problem with that—Ako herself had once shown him exactly what an obedient little bitch she could be, shoving it in his face with video messages on Momotalk.
Hina remembered the look on Sensei’s face like it was yesterday… and what she herself had felt when she saw it.
Because unfortunately for Ako, Hina had been with Sensei comforting him when those messages came.
And she had seen what happens when you torment the one person in all of Kivotos toward whom Hina had ever opened up—the one who made her believe there was a reason to fight for a better tomorrow.
Ako was slipping close to unconsciousness when someone suddenly spoke.
“And she paid…” Hina was too consumed by vengeance to recognize the voice in time, so she was genuinely shocked when something heavy slammed into her.
It turned out to be a large, battered—but patched-up—medical bag. One Hina knew very well.
The impact was so strong that Hina herself flew sideways, releasing Ako and crashing bodily into Ako’s desk. Papers and everything else exploded into the air.
“…more harshly than you can imagine,” the person continued—no, the girl—with a voice so cold and steely it was hard to believe it belonged to the same person who, for weeks, had only whispered or squeaked whenever Hina focused on her.
But it was the same person… just from another world.
“Chinatsu… san…” Hina said through the pain. “They—”
“Couch. Now,” the person called Chinatsu-san cut her off commandingly, voice like ice.
Hina obeyed instantly and headed to the couch to lie down.
She was about to be examined. Meanwhile, Chinatsu-san—with the help of a certain pink-haired girl—lifted Ako and carried her to the opposite couch.
When their eyes met, Hina knew she would have to wait. Ako came first… and it made her clench her fists in rage.
“I can see that, you know,” Chinatsu asked coldly without even looking at Hina, focused entirely on Ako’s neck as the girl gasped for air.
Hina immediately released her fists. Besides Sensei, this girl… was the only one Hina obeyed.
Not surprising—she was the one who had saved her legs, and more importantly, her life.
Then supported her through recovery. And Hina could be grateful to those who helped her.
It was almost funny how similar this girl’s face was to someone Hina hated with every fiber of her being.
But she was different—different race, though that wasn’t the main thing. The makeup was different.
The eyes too—cold, heavy, icy. She rarely hid them behind glasses now; she wore contacts instead.
Or so she claimed.
But something whispered to Hina that wasn’t true… that her eyes were simply… different?
Because it certainly wasn’t natural for eyes to glow in the dark when needed.
“Koharu, hand me that from the bag…” She pointed at something sticking out, speaking with a warmth Hina currently lacked.
“Right away, Chinatsu-senpai!” the small—JTF? Wait… what happened to her uniform?
She wasn’t wearing it anymore; instead some green one. But seeing the SCHALE patch with the number 0 on the sleeve, Hina knew exactly where it came from.
From that… other Sensei.
Chinatsu’s Sensei.
The Sensei who had come to find her and take her home with the others, but stayed to help stop this madness.
Hina… didn’t like him.
But she respected him.
Still, she considered him a second usurper, just like Faker.
And clearly she was right—one of Sensei’s students was now wearing the club uniform of that SCHALE.
Chinatsu-san wore the same.
She had a band on one arm denoting her rank in SCHALE, and on the other a scarf with a large red cross.
Medic symbol… but Hina knew she was more of a Combat Medic.
Because to save Hina, this Chinatsu had single-handedly fought her way through dozens of traitorous Prefects and Faker’s strike force sent to punish Hina for supporting the real Sensei.
The one the impostor had declared a criminal and villain.
And this Chinatsu had done it.
She had even driven off Mika, Tsurugi, and Neru, then escaped with the critically injured Hina to a hastily prepared hideout.
Hina had been in shock watching this seemingly unassuming girl—at least to her—fight like a lioness.
A lioness capable of defeating students leagues above her.
At least that’s what Hina had thought then.
But now she knew this Chinatsu… well.
She punched way above her weight class—by the standards of her own world.
Thrown into this one… she was like a rabbit released into a land with no natural predators.
And Hina knew even she might have trouble beating this Chinatsu.
Minutes passed.
Ako’s breathing slowly returned to normal, and the color came back to her cheeks.
When she felt okay… she looked at Chinatsu with gratitude. “Thank you…”
Chinatsu nodded with a smile. “No problem.” She tilted her head. “It’s my job.”
Ako nodded calmly. “Yes.”
Her voice sounded… different.
No.
It was different.
Chinatsu noticed. And it mildly annoyed her.
“Koharu, can I count on you?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Koharu answered energetically, saluting Chinatsu… in a strange way. Two fingers, while the thumb pressed down the ring and pinky fingers… as if simulating their absence.
The medic was pleased with her energy.
She stood and walked over to Hina.
Without a word she unfastened the Head Prefect’s skirt and pulled it up—far higher than necessary—so that Hina’s rather childish underwear was clearly visible, then began examining her legs.
Hina flushed with embarrassment. Ako… wasn’t sure if she was allowed to giggle.
The same with the other girls… except the surprised Koharu.
“Ooh… a bear!” she said, a little amused.
“A doctor does not comment on the patient’s body or clothing,” Chinatsu-san metaphorically smacked her with a baton. “Koharu-chan.”
Koharu straightened up. “Yes, Chinatsu-senpai!” She looked at Hina. “Sorry, Hina-senpai!”
That satisfied Chinatsu-san, who kept examining Hina’s scars, probing them carefully with her hands.
Only Hina knew Chinatsu was proud of Koharu.
And honestly… Hina felt like laughing bitterly.
Weren’t these two supposed to hate each other?
One from Trinity, one from Gehenna?
True, Koharu simply disliked Gehenna rather than hated it.
And Chinatsu-san had been kind and polite to everyone since Hina met her—never once saying a bad word about Trinity.
In fact, when pressed to say what she disliked… it was Gehenna.
More precisely the chaos there, the Pandemonium Society, and—surprisingly—Ako.
Specifically her own Ako, who, from the description… sounded like a spiteful hag dead set on annoying Chinatsu… for some reason.
And Hina had the feeling that reason was two things separated by some kind of censorship.
And that censorship had something to do with Białas Sensei.
For example, before Ako met Białas Sensei it was about one thing; after the meeting it was about something else entirely.
Hina didn’t understand. But I can let you in on a secret.
When it comes to romantic rivalry… women can be ruthless.
Figure the rest out yourselves.
Though I’ll just say that no matter what Ako does, Chinatsu is always closer to Sensei than Ako is. Even though Ako is the one… Białas Sensei enjoys teasing more—though it’s usually punishments where he gets to watch.
And Ako… outwardly hateful but secretly delighted… carries out her penalties.
Anyway, that Ako isn’t here. And Hina had no idea how lucky she was for it.
Speaking of luck—Hina still couldn’t believe her fortune that day.
That by pure chance this Chinatsu-san had been nearby, capable of beating the attackers, carrying her away, and most importantly…
Saving her from bleeding out.
Hina had no idea how it was possible, but Chinatsu-san had managed to stitch her back together using only the tools in her bag.
True, Hina didn’t know much beyond basic first aid, but seeing the equipment she used to examine her legs,
Hina knew it was stuff that would be rare even in Millennium.
And more suited to an operating theater than a medic’s bag.
Yet she had it on hand, and from what Hina heard, she was terrifyingly good at her job.
Surprisingly good for someone who supposedly had little experience with typical this Kivotos injuries.
So Hina was curious where she had learned it all… and decided to ask.
“Sorry to interrupt…” she began politely. Chinatsu glanced at her briefly before returning to work. “But I’m curious how you know and can do so much…”
“Is it something from your school…” The Head Prefect didn’t finish before a simple answer came.
“Sensei taught me a lot,” Chinatsu said calmly but with steel in her voice. “Same with Sena, Irina, Serina, Yu, Saya, and many other specialists.” She listed them matter-of-factly.
Hina recognized maybe two… perhaps three names.
“And I took courses.”
What intrigued Hina was that one of her teachers had been Sensei.
She didn’t know Białas Sensei well—just that he was a dangerous commander and an extremely cunning schemer.
Enough to say he was the one behind Faker’s downfall, and the way it happened had greatly pleased her own Sensei.
But what exactly happened and why was beyond Hina’s knowledge.
For some reason her Sensei had told her not to worry about it… with a huge but dark smile.
But that he turned out to be a qualified doctor surprised her.
“Sensei taught you?” she asked, no less shocked than the others in the room.
“Yes,” Chinatsu replied. “Though he always says about himself, ‘I’m just a medic who knows how to cut people open and put them back together…’”
She gave a warm smile. “But in practice he knows everything—he could just as easily be a cardiologist, pediatrician, dentist, ENT…” She stopped seeing Hina’s blank face at the terms.
“In other words, a doctor who can treat pretty much any disease or injury in the body…” She paused to think. “And he does pretty well with what he likes to call ‘diseases of the soul.’”
„Diseases of the soul?” Hina asked, puzzled. “You mean psychology?”
“More or less,” Chinatsu answered. “But Sensei isn’t a psychologist—he says the term isn’t quite right, especially since a psychologist, unlike him, has limited ability to treat and stop diseases transmitted in ways that escape materialist science.”
Hina fell into thought. “What do you mean by that?”
Chinatsu looked at her… then returned to work. “In short, Sensei knows how people can catch depression from someone else, for example, and is able to combat and prevent the spread of those diseases.”
“Wait…” Koharu piped up from the back. “So there are viruses that carry mental illnesses?”
“Yes,” Chinatsu answered confidently. “Though calling them viruses isn’t quite accurate—it’s a completely different set of pathogenic factors.”
Koharu started blinking rapidly. Her brain was screaming at the terminology.
“So what does he prefer to call them?” Ako suddenly asked, staring strangely at Hina.
“Traditionally,” Chinatsu replied after a long pause. “Evil… spirits.” She looked straight into Ako’s eyes. Something clicked in Ako’s head.
She looked at Hina and… paled slightly. “And how do you save someone from that?” Ako pressed.
Chinatsu, finishing her rather uncomfortable examination of Hina, answered curtly, “Ask my Sensei that…”
She put one tool back in the bag and pulled out an ointment. “Unfortunately I only know how to cut people open and put them back together.” She joked in a way the local Chinatsu would never dare.
“And speaking of putting people back together…” she continued, now colder.
“You’re supposed to limit movement, remember?” She scolded Hina—she had noticed someone had ignored the restriction from the effects on her legs.
Hina shrank.
“I remember,” she answered obediently.
“I didn’t notice,” Chinatsu stabbed like a red-hot knife straight into her heart.
“Because of that, I would appreciate it if…” She looked at the three Prefect officers. “The three of you made sure she doesn’t move violently without need.”
Raw fear appeared in the eyes of Iori, Chinatsu, and Ako.
They were supposed to restrain her?
Order her around?
Just being in the same room as her was torture; they didn’t want to spend any more time with her than absolutely necessary.
Chinatsu-san knew this, so she fixed Hina with a gaze as cold as a Siberian winter.
“And I will be very upset if you don’t listen to them. Understood?” she said slowly, with deliberate pauses.
Hina realized there was no joking with this doctor.
“Understood,” she answered obediently… though the hatred in her heart for those three hadn’t dimmed.
Oh no.
If anything, it grew at the idea that they would be her jailers.
After all, she was in this state because of them!
Chinatsu-san saw in Hina’s eyes that the Head Prefect would obey—but not fully—and that the trio would have problems with her.
As if they didn’t already.
Inwardly she sighed, seeing that Hina didn’t understand at all that this was the punishment she was inflicting on them for what they had done.
And it was far worse than her own antics.
But she knew that, unfortunately, reason wouldn’t get through to her on this.
This Hina was already too far gone, too steeped in darkness.
Too eager to do evil and petty things. Someone else was needed to help her… though if Chinatsu was honest.
It was already too late.
This Hina would have made a perfect enforcer captain in the days of the Thunder Emperor.
Funny how her own Hina had deliberately joined Intelligence just so the Emperor wouldn’t discover her strength and turn her into one.
It would be hilariously ironic to drag their Hina here and let her teach this… Hina a lesson.
But the decision wasn’t Chinatsu’s—it was Sensei’s.
And that didn’t bother or irritate her in the slightest.
Ever since they’d met, she had trusted his judgment… limitlessly.
Just as limitless… were the things she felt for him in her heart.
But that wasn’t important right now.
She had a job to do. And she had done it.
All that remained was…
“Koharu.”
She called the little girl from Trinity—funny to call her that, since technically they were the same age.
At least in her world.
And now, looking back, it was amusing to think what her Koharu had grown into.
No wonder Sensei liked her so much. Even if her cluelessness sometimes drove him up the wall.
“Yes?” Koharu answered quickly.
“You said you had some business to take care of… in Gehenna,” Chinatsu began, glancing at Hina for a moment.
She decided to keep it vague, because the look Koharu had given her when they both saw what Hina was doing to Ako had made one thing crystal clear: Koharu had changed her mind.
“And I just took care of it!” Koharu replied quickly and a little nervously, clearly signaling she’d dropped the idea.
“Anything else you need?” the ex-JTF girl asked, desperate to change the subject.
“No,” Chinatsu said after a brief pause.“Let’s go…”
She suddenly recalled a line from a certain movie—one she’d really liked.
“Something’s been itching at my collar and biting me,” she said, playfully tugging at the distinctive collar of her uniform.
“I think I need to wash it—feels like I’ve got lice or something.”
She didn’t even try to hide what was really making her uncomfortable.
Hina understood the insult and shrank back.
The Prefects did too… and shrank a little themselves.
But in their eyes she saw something else: faint amusement… and dread at being left alone with Hina again.
So she looked at Hina one last time.
“I hope that when I come back, everything will be exactly as it…” she paused, fixing her with the most memorable stare and the coldest tone, “…should be.”
Hina understood the message perfectly, but her eyes burned with hot fury.
Still, she respected Chinatsu-san far too much to… disobey.
The remaining three Prefects showed quiet gratitude in their eyes—which only infuriated Hina more, but she decided to hide it deep in her heart, away from Chinatsu-san’s hawk-like gaze.
Instead, she began plotting how to get around it… or better yet, how to make sure Chinatsu-san couldn’t keep helping the traitors.
Because she had stopped believing—from practically the very beginning—that she could ever convince her to see things her way.
Chinatsu-san was clearly against what Hina’s Sensei was doing to the traitors.
Once she had even slapped him for what he’d done.
It took Białas Sensei to make him back off from trying to avenge the insult.
And Hina remembered that moment.
Her heart had stopped when his gaze fell on her—just for a second.
She knew you didn’t joke with Białas, but that…
She had no words for what she felt.
It was more than fear.
But she had also noticed how Chinatsu-san looked at Białas Sensei… and felt disgust.
Because it was the same look her own Chinatsu used to give Faker.
At least… that’s how our Hina saw it.
But the way someone perceives something doesn’t make it true, does it?
#####
Koharu had changed her mind.
Hina was not the person she should be learning from.
She had made that crystal clear when she was strangling that… indecently dressed girl with her bare hands, clearly wishing her dead.
Koharu wanted to become stronger so she could better handle herself and support Sensei in difficult times.
So that the era of the Faker would never repeat itself.
For a while she had considered asking Chinatsu—this better Chinatsu—for help.
But she quickly realized how incredibly busy she was.
True, Hina was busy too, but Hina was the absolute pinnacle of strength in Kivotos.
Chinatsu, on the other hand… well. She wasn’t weak.
In fact, helping her, Koharu had noticed how she could bring others to heel with a single look.
Koharu wanted that.
But she lacked the necessary charisma.
Whenever she tried to make such a glare, she just looked ridiculous.
And she knew it.
So she decided to pursue pure combat strength instead.
And while Chinatsu was far from average in a fight—actually outstanding—she still fell short of what the true top could offer.
Though it was true that she was among the most powerful people Koharu had ever met.
Because what else do you call someone capable of defeating Tsurugi in open combat?
Koharu had been shocked when she heard about it from other JTF members.
Even more shocked when she saw Tsurugi recovering.
Still, she didn’t want to disturb someone so busy, and besides, she wasn’t exactly the type Koharu was looking for.
She was looking for someone truly powerful… and, as it happened, she knew someone just as powerful who also had quite a lot of free time.
The catch was that, unlike Hina, she wasn’t from this world.
And that was exactly what made Koharu a little afraid to ask for her help.
Wouldn’t that make her a traitor?
True, she was now wearing the uniform of that foreign Schale—with the number 0 on the sleeve, which, as Chinatsu explained, meant she was only a temporary member with basic privileges: unrestricted combat and district crossing.
She was wearing it now simply because… she refused to wear the shameful rags of the JTF, where justice existed only in the name.
Unfortunately, she no longer had any other uniform besides the JTF one.
Mostly because she had… outgrown the old one a bit, and it had gotten damaged… in short, she no longer had her Trinity uniform.
And Chinatsu, for some reason, had a perfectly fitting spare set in her bag…
She said she had learned a certain degree of paranoia and preparedness for everything from her Sensei.
So she lent—no, gave—it to Koharu so she wouldn’t have to wear what she hated.
And Koharu hated her old JTF uniform so much that the moment she changed, she immediately tore it to shreds.
But back to the point… Koharu knew one very powerful person.
True, she could have tried to find the version from her own world, but… between us?
She was terrified of her.
She had already been a terrifying terrorist—yet limitlessly loyal to her Sensei.
Suffice to say, for that loyalty she had lost her right eye.
But she never broke, no matter what Faker tried.
She vanished into the shadows, licking her wounds and waiting for the return… of her beloved.
And she waited.
She was one of the first students to come to Sensei after his return and pledge her allegiance.
And in reward… he freed her from law enforcement and made her his right hand… or perhaps his left.
And when needed, he unleashed her to punish the guilty—like SRT or Valkyrie.
Suffice to say, once it had been JTF’s turn, and Koharu remembered her from that day.
Standing atop a pile of bodies while blood flowed beneath.
That was truly the Fox of Calamity.
So, keeping in mind what that girl was capable of… Koharu decided to go…
To the normal version.
She was just as strong—if not stronger—yet far more mentally stable.
In fact, she was a cheerful, charming, and astonishing artist.
Where the Wakamo from her world was synonymous with cruelty and punishment inflicted by Sensei upon Kivotos.
Wakamo from that other world was synonymous with joy and living life to the fullest, bringing warmth from another Kivotos.
Suffice to say, she quickly gained popularity among the citizens with her artistic performances.
She lifted their spirits in these hard times, and between shows you could find her helping—whether handing out food or aiding reconstruction.
She was often the one setting the work pace.
Meeting this Wakamo, unlike her own, was quite simple.
All you had to do was check her social media and go where she announced she’d be.
The next step was much harder—you had to get close and ask for a private conversation.
And for that…
Well.
Koharu was scared.
No wonder—when she approached the performance spot, Wakamo wasn’t alone.
She was with some Izuna who… was very close to her.
The two were putting on a small show—dancing and singing—not like idols, but more like theatrical performers.
They were staging a play from their world about ninjas.
Apparently a shortened version of something hugely popular back home.
Izuna was, of course, the ninja—obvious from her outfit.
Wakamo was some kind of… princess or something from a faraway land.
She wore a dress Koharu didn’t recognize.
And importantly, she sang songs in that land’s language.
The language was beautiful, pleasantly rustling in the ears—no doubt thanks to the singer.The crowd was large and kept growing.
Moreover, there were plenty of fans of Wakamo and Izuna—visible from the handmade posters, banners, and T-shirts being sold, with all proceeds going to those in need.
There had been quite a lot of those lately, Koharu had learned.
And she even knew where they came from.
But the grim thought quickly vanished, and she let herself be swept away by the spectacle.
And what a spectacle it was!
Izuna leaped, vanished, reappeared, created special effects.
In short, she made Koharu believe ninjas could actually do such tricks.
Wakamo, though… was breathtaking.
Her face stole every gaze.
Her voice silenced the entire world around her.
When she moved, it was with such grace it seemed impossible for a human.
And when she acted out emotions… Koharu lived them with her.
It was something not of this world—quite literally, in fact.
And as Wakamo and Izuna bowed after the performance, Koharu felt a pang.
Why could that world have something so wonderful, and theirs not?
What had happened?
Was it even possible here?
Or was it just a miracle from a foreign world?
Koharu felt she knew the answer… but she refused to let it surface because it was… treacherous.
And she didn’t want to be a traitor.
She wanted to prove her loyalty.
She had done it once before and… she didn’t finish the thought because the outcome had deserved the death penalty.
Because that’s what traitors get—death.
No appeal… right?
Unfortunately, she couldn’t ask Sensei about this.
He was far too busy with his work, though he always welcomed Koharu warmly at Schale.
He gave her a corner, listened to her complaints, and never demanded anything from her…
Because Koharu was too weak to help him.
And it was time to change that.
After performances, Wakamo and Izuna sometimes answered fans’ questions in short interviews.
Sometimes, but not today.
They were in a hurry, and for Koharu it was now or never.
Using a little trickery, she slipped past most of the small crew helping Wakamo and Izuna—really just three people.
One bear and two Trinity students wearing new, pretty uniforms.
But judging by how they sometimes limped and scratched their backs, Koharu guessed they were among those Sensei had severely punished.
Koharu knew there was no way they could just get new uniforms or serious medical help on their own.
Someone had helped them… and that someone really hated what her Sensei was doing.
And his students always opposed him in it.
But back to the point—Koharu slipped past the guard of the two Trinity students.
The bear was busy packing the heaviest gear.Wakamo was nowhere to be seen.
But Izuna was there, and our former JTF girl knew that was enough.
“Excuse me?” she asked the busy and very cheerful Izuna.
“Huh?!”
Izuna jumped and instantly took a defensive stance… then relaxed when she saw who it was.
“Koharu…” she paused as if about to add something. “I mean, Shimoe-san…” she quickly corrected herself. “What brings you here?” she asked, her face lighting up with that tension-melting smile.
“Koharu is fine,” the pink-haired girl answered quickly and firmly. “I… have a request for Kosaka-san…”
Izuna looked surprised.
“Could you call her for me?”
Izuna nodded seriously several times.
Her tail swished as she pointed behind Koharu and said, “Actually, she’s standing right behind us.”
Koharu jumped, and laughter rang out from both sides.
“Sister can be scary, huh?” Izuna asked, amused, which surprised Koharu.
“She’s your sister?” she blurted.
Wakamo clarified, “She’s my younger cousin.” She smiled warmly at the younger kitsune, who just nodded.
“But that’s not important right now…” she added, and Koharu froze for a second.
She had never heard that Wakamo had a cousin in Kivotos.
In the meantime, Wakamo examined Koharu’s uniform, raised a curious eyebrow, and after a brief moment said,“I didn’t know we’d recruited this Koharu into Schale.”
Koharu needed a second to process and another to respond.“I wasn’t recruited!” she stressed firmly.
“I just don’t have a regular Trinity uniform, and I didn’t want to wear JTF rags…”At that, both girls raised their eyebrows.
“…and I happened to run into Chinatsu—your Chinatsu…” At the mention of her, Wakamo’s eyes dimmed for a moment before lighting up again with Koharu’s next words. “…and she gave me this one she had in her bag.”
“I see China-chan is still following Sensei’s habit,” Izuna noted with a light laugh.
“She at least has a bag for it, little sister,” Wakamo shot back with a slightly sharp tone.
Izuna blushed faintly. Koharu wondered why.
“But I’m glad she helped you,” the Enchantress of the Stage said to Koharu, her eyes sparkling.
“So how can I help you?” she asked, guessing Koharu needed help with something important.
Koharu swallowed hard. She hadn’t expected Wakamo to be… so kind, warm, and friendly.
She was nothing like the monster she knew.
“I want to be strong,” she blurted out suddenly.
Izuna covered her mouth with her hands.
Wakamo raised an eyebrow.
“Why?” she asked calmly, but it was clear the next words would decide whether she agreed.
Koharu wasn’t the best at this sort of thing, so it was no surprise her answer came out more as stammering than speech.
“B-because… I want… to help… Sensei… so I don’t have to… you know… be under his protection… all the time!”
Fortunately, Wakamo was skilled at interpreting stammering—her years as a theater actress and member of Hyakkaryouran had given her plenty of practice.
“I understand…” she answered slowly… and with soul-piercing weight.
Koharu felt fear creeping in.
“And now the second question, my little, dear, sweet…” With each word Wakamo lowered her head to Koharu’s level, and her eyes grew darker.
“Koharu…” she whispered into her ear.
“Why should I help you?” The words were cold, emotionless, but laced with clear threat.
Koharu couldn’t see her face. In fact, she saw nothing but Wakamo’s long hair and her pretty dress.
“B-because…” Koharu began to tremble.
Wakamo waited in silence.
“Because I’m scared of Hina!” she suddenly cried. “She’s insane and vicious—I saw her trying to murder one of her own with her bare hands!”
Wakamo nodded.
“And… and…” her voice cracked again.
“I’m terrified of our Wakamo—she’d attack anyone who isn’t Sensei without hesitation and bring them calamity!”
Wakamo nodded again.
Then asked, “So why me?”
Koharu froze… then hung her head.
“Because you’re normal…” she began. “You’re not vicious or eager to attack people just because you think they insulted your Sensei…”
She clenched her fists. “I think you’re just… a good person.”
And to her shock… Wakamo laughed.
But it wasn’t the laugh she knew from her own Wakamo—mad and cruel.
It was the laugh of someone… warm, someone amused by a joke.
“Sorry…” Wakamo said, straightening up. “Forgive me…” She laughed hard.
Koharu saw Izuna wearing that gentle, sympathetic smile.
The rest of the crew had the same.
“But why?” Koharu asked, confused.
Wakamo needed a few moments to calm down and a few more to find the words.
“I’m many things, but not a good person,” she explained seriously. “These hands…” She raised them for Koharu to see. “Are stained with blood and calamity…” she said grimly.
“And if not for my Sensei…” she continued, and suddenly it dawned on Koharu.
“You’d be just like our Wakamo is now!” she interrupted.
Wakamo looked at her silently for a moment, then… nodded slightly.
“At the very least,” she agreed. “But the truth is, in my terrorist frenzy of destruction and anarchy… I did far worse things than she ever has,” she confessed suddenly.
Koharu was stunned.
“And I would have kept doing them if not for…” She suddenly made a shy face, like a teenager with her first crush.
Koharu stared blankly.
Wakamo didn’t answer.
But as we know, family is there to kick you when you’re down.
“Sister fell head over heels the moment Aruji-dono—Sensei—made a bold move on her,” Izuna added, pretending to whisper confidentially.
„I’ll admit I don’t know what it is that makes her so in love, but…”
“But it was enough for my Sensei to keep me on a leash,” Wakamo finished for her… slightly embarrassed.
“A very tight leash,” Izuna added with a jab, surprising Koharu—she hadn’t thought Izuna capable of such things.
“As if you don’t have one just like it,” Wakamo countered, making Izuna look at the ground and turn into a little tomato.
Koharu… was slowly starting to understand why.
“But back to the point…” Wakamo said, very warmly. “Thanks to Sensei-sama, I was able…”
She glanced at the stage waiting to be dismantled. “To return to who I really am.”
“You really are an actress?” Koharu asked in surprise, and Wakamo… well, everyone laughed.
“And the best one!” Izuna answered. “For years, sister won the top prize at the national theater competition!”
She was genuinely proud of her cousin—her tail wagged vigorously.
Wakamo grew shy. “It’s nothing special…”
One of the girls jumped in.
“Nothing special?” she asked, slightly annoyed. “Wakamo-sama, in my whole life I’ve never seen a theater actor put on a show like that!”
“And on the street, no less!” the second added. “We’ve been to plenty of theaters!”
“Not to mention movie stars,” the adult bear added.
“Exactly!” the second girl agreed.
Wakamo grew even more embarrassed at the praise.
Izuna rolled her eyes. “Oh Lord and all the Saints…”
Koharu was surprised she said both “Deus” and “Kami.”
“Sister has nothing to be ashamed of!” she told her cousin. “Be cheerful and proud like me!”
Then suddenly Wakamo started… acting differently.
“Nin nin! It is I! Izuna!”
She spoke in a much higher voice, clearly imitating someone.
And it was obvious who. If the name wasn’t hint enough, the fact that Izuna was blushing harder certainly was.
“Is this what you had in mind?” Wakamo asked her cousin.
“Well…” Izuna began slowly, but a smile crept onto her face. “Something like that, but without overdoing it?” She finished and started giggling.
“Right…” Wakamo replied. “I forgot Izuna already patented being the carefree idiot with a big heart, and no one else is allowed.” She teased, but the amusement in her voice was clear.
Izuna laughed too, as did the rest of the crew… while Koharu… lowered her head.
The laughter died, replaced by concern.
“Everything okay, Koharu?” Izuna asked.
“Let’s say so,” Koharu answered quickly. “So… will you help?” she turned to Wakamo.
She decided to change the subject to what she came for.
Wakamo noticed… nodded a few times before answering.
“Since you ask so nicely…” She gave a small smile. “I’ll help you, Koharu.”
Koharu’s face lit up in shock. “Really?”
New energy surged in her heart; she even bounced a little on her feet.
Wakamo raised a hand to calm her. “But all I can promise you is…” she paused, “blood, sweat, and tears—not strength.”
Koharu immediately answered with confidence, “I’ll become strong.”
Wakamo raised her eyebrows… then looked at Izuna, who understood what to add.
“No, Koharu,” Izuna began. “You’re already strong…” She flashed a cheerful smile. “You just don’t know how to use your strength yet!”
Koharu blinked in surprise. “Why?”
The cousins looked at each other, silently agreed, then turned to Koharu and said in unison:
“You know what? Instead of telling you, why don’t we just let you find out for yourself?”
Koharu blinked again.
She didn’t know what to say.
This wasn’t what she expected.
It was foreign… to her way of thinking.
But maybe that’s exactly what she needed—something foreign in her thinking?