Chapter Forty-Five: Miyuki's Thoughts

"The purple mist emitted by the monster is a peculiar electromagnetic wave, capable of inducing a terrifying hormone in the human brain, triggering violent impulses and ultimately damaging the mind!" Norio delivered his analysis in a single breath, visibly shocked by the revelation.

"If this continues, the purple mist will spread everywhere, and then... the entire world will be doomed!" Megumi Jukima couldn't help but break into a cold sweat, her pupils contracting in horror—Ainomeina's power was truly terrifying.

"The demon god must be destroyed!" Commander Munakata's expression was grim as he clenched his fist, gloved in black tactical leather.

Just then, Daigo and Shinjo, who had flown out in fighter jets to intercept Ainomeina, returned to the base.

"Don’t forget our promise! See you this afternoon, no excuses," Daigo heard Masaki Keigo’s voice in his mind the moment he stepped into the command room.

...

Inside the Gillam Restaurant, only a handful of patrons remained, the earlier chaos wrought by Ainomeina still lingering in the air. The owner looked on helplessly—since the monster’s appearance, every sector of the economy had suffered.

At this moment, Ryuze Koshirou and Mihoko were dining together in this modest yet exquisitely decorated restaurant. Initially, after Ainomeina had disappeared, Ryuze intended to escort Mihoko straight home. After all, with a monster just appearing, who would have the heart to eat? But Mihoko stubbornly refused and insisted they dine at Gillam. Unable to dissuade her, Ryuze had no choice but to follow.

"Azé, what do you think made those people suddenly become so frenzied and violent earlier?" Mihoko propped her delicate chin with her right hand, biting the fork as she asked with a furrowed brow.

"You’re older than me, sis, and even you don’t know—how would I?" Ryuze retorted without looking up, shoveling food into his mouth.

"Only three years older!" Mihoko slapped the table, refusing to accept the slight.

"Three years is still older." Ryuze mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"Look at the mess you’re making!" Mihoko rolled her eyes at him in exasperation, then added, "It must have been that strange purple mist from the monster that made everyone so violent!"

"Sis, if you knew, why did you ask—"

"Don’t talk back!"

...

After the meal, Ryuze gallantly took out his wallet to pay. As he watched it grow thinner, he managed a wry smile and sighed in resignation.

Ryuze could hardly be bothered to concern himself with Ainomeina; if things followed the familiar storyline, Daigo would take care of it. If anything unexpected happened, he could step in. His real task was to return to the Land of Light as soon as possible!

Yet, when he thought of his friends here, his resolve wavered. The grandmother who first gave him warmth in this world, young Chiba Tano, the formidable swordsman Tetsuo Miyamoto, his miserly boss Masao Chiba, the lovable and amusing pupils... and the kind-hearted Mihoko he’d met later, even Masaki Keigo himself.

Unwittingly, he had met so many people in this world.

...

Ryuze and Mihoko strolled the streets, chatting and laughing. Mihoko was especially radiant today, drawing envious and admiring glances from many men they passed.

"Azé, what are your plans for the future?" Mihoko played with her elegant fingers, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. She couldn’t imagine someone as skilled in swordsmanship as Ryuze staying forever in a rundown dojo.

"My plans for the future..." Ryuze smiled, thinking of Ikumi Harumi, who was still waiting for him in another time and place.

"I'm going somewhere far, far away." At that moment, only Harumi’s lovely face filled his mind.

"Are you going abroad, Azé?" A trace of disappointment flickered across Mihoko’s innocent face, though she quickly masked it.

Ryuze neither confirmed nor denied, only smiling, his signature dimple appearing on his right cheek. If that's what she wanted to believe, there was no need for further explanation.

Seeing his silence, Mihoko assumed he had tacitly agreed, forcing a smile.

"Then I wish you smooth sailing, Azé."

Ryuze caught the forced nature of her smile and shook his head inwardly. Was he truly so lucky with women?

...

After accompanying Mihoko for a while longer, Ryuze took her home at her request. She lived in a labyrinth of alleys behind the Hokushin Ittoryu Dojo.

Ryuze sat for a while inside Mihoko’s home. The place was modest—just a single room serving as both living and bedroom, and a small bathroom. In the humble space stood a small bed, a pink cabinet at its head with a few bottles and jars of cosmetics and skincare products, and a wardrobe in the corner—nothing more.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ryuze watched Mihoko busy herself boiling water for tea, a strange pang rising in his chest.

"Have you always... lived here alone?"

Ryuze’s gaze softened as he looked at her.

Mihoko handed him a cartoon-printed mug filled to the brim, then sat beside him, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"I've lived here alone for five years now. A girl without a good degree like me has no choice but to work and save, hoping to buy a bigger place for herself someday," she said, her tone heavy.

"Why is that?" Ryuze asked instinctively.

"When I was eighteen, my father died of lung cancer. My mother... ran off with a wealthy man." As she spoke, her eyes brimmed with resentment toward the mother who had abandoned her, and tears glimmered at their edges.

"Mihoko..." Ryuze silently resolved to take good care of this girl—at least, as her friend.

"Sorry to embarrass myself in front of you, Azé." Mihoko forced a smile, trying to hide her vulnerability.

"Not at all!" Ryuze shook his head earnestly. "A girl who perseveres alone for so many years is truly remarkable. I admire you, Mihoko!"

"Really... do you mean that, Azé?" Mihoko looked at him in astonishment, dabbing at her damp eyes.

"Of course," he answered, smiling with narrowed eyes.

"I’ll always be on your side, Mihoko."

"Thank you, Azé!" Mihoko threw her arms around him.

Ryuze was momentarily stunned. He didn’t push her away, nor did he return the embrace, his arms awkwardly hanging at his sides.

Outside, behind the misted windowpane, snowflakes tumbled down, filling the world with cold.

But this embrace was warm.

The embrace of friends.

...