After saying goodbye to Shirasaki, who was heading back to the building, Yamasaki let his eyes linger on the girl for a moment, watching her pleated skirt sway with each step. In a quick motion, he turned to the car window, catching his reflection—his expression shifted from embarrassed to serious: but what he saw wasn't himself. Instead, it was his personal demon, grinning from ear to ear.
The entity looked oddly different this time, with hair dyed a deep black and wearing the same trench coat as the exorcist.
"What?"
The voice sounded softer, more human than usual, snapping him out of his daze.
"Nothing! And what's with this look? Some kind of joke!?" he snapped, getting into the car and slamming the door once he settled into the seat.
As he gripped the steering wheel, his vision blurred, and he let out an impatient sigh.
"Look? Must be your mind, kid. You didn't take your meds this morning, did you?"
"No! But… damn it…" He closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his forehead, peeking through his fingers as his vision pulsed. The streetlights and parked cars turned into smudges. "Last time, I barely had any episodes… and I went almost a week without taking my meds! Damn it! Is this that damned darkness syndrome!?" he cursed, hitting the wheel so hard he almost cracked it.
"Relax, brat… breaking your car won't fix anything."
"I know, DAMN IT! It just pisses me off so much…" He rubbed his neck. He didn't feel his idle companion—and then it hit him. "My crucifix…" he muttered, slumping back into the seat, feeling every inch of his body buzz as he let go of the wheel.
"It fell to that demon's darkness, remember? Or has the syndrome already fried your brain? Nah, must've been that little girl… your heart nearly jumps out of your chest when you see her…" the demon teased, then furrowed its brow, eyes closing.
"Idiot. And Gallael? Still nothing? No clue where he might be? It's been a year with this damned contract, and all we have are fruitless searches!"
"I told you—he vanished! The only way to find him is with a big dose of chaos! He's cunning, and as an exile, he won't risk catching Luciel's eye or that of his pack!" the entity explained again, but the words dissolved into the depths of Yamasaki's troubled mind.
"Big chaos? What the hell does that even mean?"
"Yamasaki… it's self-explanatory…"
"God, I'm not asking what the words mean! What the hell does it imply? How would a chaotic moment affect his presence? For fuck's sake!"
"It'll be the moment Luciel makes his first move. Of course, they won't truly be his first—every second, he's manipulating events with his hound, Asmael. Soon enough, he'll speak the cursed words that'll have hell's trumpets announcing the end!"
"So, my best shot is during the apocalypse? That's when he'll finally show himself…"
"Exactly! But… you don't seem upset by that. Normally, a human would be crushed—AFTER ALL, THAT WOULD BE PRACTICALLY THE END OF THE WORLD YOU KNOW!" it dramatized, like narrating a horror movie. Its words echoed inside his mind with such force they seemed to reverberate through the whole car, tightening the air, trying to send a chill down his spine.
"Yeah? Well… I've already lost everything anyway. What's left to mourn?" he said, rolling up the windows with a press of a button on the dashboard.
"So dramatic… but whatever you say, Chatosaki," the demon snickered, teasing him again.
"Me, dramatic? Sure…"
He started the car, leaving behind the rumble of the engine and black smoke drifting into the air, mixing with plastic bags and old newspapers.
Barely two hours passed before the next day arrived—day thirty-two of this cycle.
Kyotaka finally stepped out of the crucial meeting between the nine council members at four in the morning. It had been a long night, every recent incident dissected in detail. After most had left, Hugo Moreau walked out alongside Seiji Watanabe. The two shared a conspiratorial glance down the hallway as the others drifted away.
"So? Can I call it a success?" the old man asked, stroking his beard while staring at a painting in front of him.
In the image, a giant white hand emerged from stormy clouds, casting its light over a lone shadow in an equally black desert.
"I got no answer…" he murmured, a bit sulky, staring at the same painting. "Normally, Hideki takes less than half a day to eliminate a target, but so far—nothing. Not even a failure report!" His worry was etched plainly on his face.
"Hm… so you hired Mr. Tamashiro? Heh… You know how to make bold moves, Mr. Hugo. But if he failed, we've got an even bigger elephant in the room. Kyotaka, with this more pacifist stance, is breeding his own vipers!" he declared.
"Unfortunately… I think he's listening too much to those kids, or maybe he's just gone senile. No one's mind stays sane after a hundred and eighty-nine years in this place!" he joked, turning toward the distant elevator. "Anyway, like it or not, we'll have to wait till later. I'll let you know if it all works out," he whispered.
"All right… well, see you at the succession ceremony. Soon, the new generation of exorcists will be sworn in. Maybe the last…" he added, a shiver running down Hugo's spine as he watched the other man head for the stairwell, back turned. "May Elum bless you!" he called out.
Last one?
He wondered, lifting his smartphone to his chest. There were countless missed calls to Hideki, none answered. He scrolled through their chat with a flick, but nothing.
The last "last seen" was the previous afternoon.
Then a hand touched his shoulder just as the meeting room door shut behind him with a soft thud. It was a familiar hand, one he recognized without needing to look.
"Rimuru Shirasaki…" he said, turning to face his old colleague from their days as mere field exorcists. The man's dark brown hair still held some life, and his clean-shaven face showed his usual care. "You've aged terribly, huh? Every time I see you, I can't help but think that!" he joked, pulling a genuine smile from his friend's face.
"And you're still the same… a charlatan!" Rimuru shot back, pulling his hand off Hugo's shoulder and adjusting his leather coat.
Soft footsteps echoed behind them. It was Amai, approaching shyly, her eyes cautiously watching the reunion.
"Dad… can we go? Otherwise, Mom's gonna kill you, and I don't wanna hear her complaining all night!" she said, shoulders up, eyes nearly shut with sleepiness.
Her mouth widened in a yawn.
"Well… there's the heir to your clan, the biggest prodigy of the generation!" Hugo teased, walking past Rimuru with a grin. He shot her a smug look. "The rumors are true… you've got your dad's energy. Anyway, I'll drop by to visit you guys later. For now… I'm gonna drown myself in whiskey," he muttered, dramatically.
Little punk…
the girl thought, straightening her posture.
"Come on, then!" Rimuru said, turning to his daughter, shifting his focus away from his friend, who was already heading for the elevator. He smiled. "You look just like your mom, huh? It's not just the hair! All right, let's go—but no noise, got it? Tomorrow, you and your brother have that community service bright and early, so… quiet as a cat!" he joked.
"I know, I know…" she mumbled, turning to him with mock formality, like calling a waiter. "Please, follow me, Mr. Shirasaki!" She stifled a laugh.
Calm waters, they drifted through…
But only on the surface.
Things were far too turbulent lately.
And the embers in the fire of fate still seethed, even after all the chaos…