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"Better spill the tea — how's it going with Miwa?" I asked Kokichi after a brief pause, deciding to switch gears.
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Long enough for me to sprint two blocks, incinerate a pathetic second-grade curse, and end up on yet another empty street.
Hmm… which way now?
"Well, Kokichi, you know I'm not letting this go, right?"
"Unfortunately," he sighed heavily.
"In that case, I'm waiting." I smirked, landing lightly on a lamppost, balancing on one leg for a moment before hopping onto the roof of a nearby building. My movements were fluid and quick, and within seconds I was sprinting across the rooftops, headed toward my next target.
I might not be able to — or rather, shouldn't — use my "Reinforcement," but that didn't mean I was without all the perks of being a sorcerer. I could still enhance my jumps and give myself a boost with cursed energy. Each move was like a controlled explosion, propelling me forward like a rocket. And the supernatural physique I'd gained from following the path of the "Red Priest" made me more than just an ordinary person, or even an ordinary sorcerer. The speed I was moving through the streets and over rooftops, even without cursed energy, was on par with a bullet train.
"Well, uh…" Kokichi stammered, as if I'd caught him off guard. "It's… fine?"
"Is that a statement or a question?" I raised an eyebrow as I dropped onto the street, glancing around before heading up another block.
"I don't know what you want me to say!" he burst out, sounding almost wounded. "You know how I am, and yet you still ask me things like that!"
"Well, I'm bored," I replied with a lazy grin, turning a corner and pausing to check for traces of cursed energy nearby. "And you're terrible at radio banter, so I'm just entertaining myself however I can."
"God, you're annoying," he sighed, clearly frustrated.
"My pleasure!" I shot back, launching myself onto another rooftop.
Kokichi stayed quiet for a few seconds, then spoke again, his voice softer this time. "Miwa… Look, I'm trying to keep it together, but… I feel like I'm…," he trailed off, searching for the right words, "I'm not good enough for a girl like her."
I stopped on the roof of some nondescript building and took a breath.
"Well, she's cute; I'll give you that," I said, trying not to tease him too much. "But you're not so bad yourself. Especially now that Mahito did a little 'work' on your face. Before that, you were pretty rough — could barely even step outside…"
"Screw you," Kokichi snapped.
"Right back at you," I chuckled, jumping to the next rooftop.
"I'm not talking about looks," he continued, a little irritated. "I mean her character. Someone like me… A girl as kind, hardworking, caring, and brave as Miwa deserves someone way better."
"Sounds like someone's head over heels," I smirked, listening to the string of compliments he was piling on Miwa.
"Shut up," Kokichi grumbled, but I could almost hear the smile in his voice, despite his irritation.
"You've just got to take a step forward, man," I said, leaping onto yet another rooftop. "Stop acting like there's a landmine in front of you that's gonna blow if you make the wrong move. You're not on the battlefield here!"
"Love is war," Kokichi grumbled, sounding like he was quoting some ancient wisdom.
"Well, then my dick's the barrel of a tank," I shot back, letting my smug grin spread across my face without restraint.
"You realize how gross that sounds, right?" His voice held genuine disbelief.
"At least I'm not whining about how I'm 'damaged goods' or some other nonsense," I shrugged, as if to say, What can you do? "You like this girl, and she likes you. If you can't muster the courage to make the first move and instead keep looking for excuses… what kind of man does that make you?"
"That's a lot of toxic masculinity in one sentence. No, two," he added, dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh, here we go again," I rolled my eyes and let out a dramatic sigh.
"Go again, what?" Kokichi clearly wasn't in the mood to play along.
"You're deflecting, avoiding the real topic. Just go for it already — do something real!" I pressed him, deliberately going on the offensive.
"Says you," he muttered, as if casting himself as the tragic hero and me as the villain in his story.
"Well, I'm allowed," I declared with unflinching confidence. "I'm a special-grade sorcerer, after all."
And a hell of a provocateur…
"Then I guess that makes me a traitor," he replied darkly, as though the weight of his "title" was crushing him.
"And that's why you won't take a step forward?" I asked, genuinely curious.
There was a pause, during which I could almost hear Kokichi groaning to himself on the other end.
"I… I still remember their faces, Sukehiro. Especially Miwa's," Kokichi began after a long silence. His voice had taken on a darker, more serious tone, as though the words he was speaking weighed more than he wanted to admit. "Sure, in the end, they all forgave me, even understood… But I'm not blind. I saw that look in their eyes. I saw the distrust, the quiet, unspoken disappointment. Yeah, they acted like everything was fine, like it was all in the past. But that's not enough for me. I can't just forget. I can't just move forward as if nothing happened. Not until I've made up for my mistakes, proven that I've changed, that I deserve their trust. Until then, telling Miwa, or anyone else, how I feel wouldn't be fair. Not to her, and not to myself."
Silence fell between us. It wasn't just the usual lull in conversation — it was the kind of silence where both of us weighed our thoughts, as though trying to decide what to say next, or whether anything even needed to be said. The moment felt like the calm before a storm, where you know one wrong move could send everything crashing down. I could feel how important this was to Kokichi, even though we were miles apart.
"Kokichi, you're a good guy," I finally said, careful not to shatter the fragile silence.
I genuinely meant it — I wasn't just trying to make him feel better. Kokichi was a far better person than I was, though he'd never admit it. He always got hung up on his mistakes, constantly wondering if his actions had cost someone their life, or if his past betrayal tainted everything he did now. But the truth was, he had done the right thing. Sure, he had once made the wrong choice, but who among us hasn't? The difference was that Kokichi, unlike me, sincerely tried to make up for his mistakes.
In the end, I wanted Maiki to accept me for who I was. That was selfish of me — I just wanted her to understand me, to accept my decisions, no matter how crazy they might be. But Kokichi… he was willing to sacrifice his feelings for Miwa's sake. He cared about her so much that he preferred to stay silent about his feelings, rather than risk her happiness. He wanted to prove to her — and to himself — that he was worthy of her, that she hadn't made a mistake in trusting him. That was something I could never offer Maiki.
It might sound childish, but sometimes those simple, naive feelings show true strength. And who knows, maybe Miwa had made a mistake by believing in Kokichi, by trusting him with her emotions. After all, he had been a traitor once, someone who'd chosen his own benefit. But here's the thing: despite having the chance to forget his mistakes, to start over and live a normal life, he didn't take it. He chose redemption. And he did it not just for himself — not just to feel better about his choices. No, he did it for the people he loved. He wanted to prove that someone was still right about him… He did it for Miwa.
I respected him for that. Kokichi was better than me. I could admit that. He might laugh if he heard me say it, but it was the truth. His genuine efforts to do good in a world where the line between right and wrong had long since blurred made him a far better man than I could ever hope to be.
"Whatever you're telling yourself," I continued, letting the words carry some weight, "you deserve Miwa. A hell of a lot more than I deserve Maiki."
"Don't say that," Kokichi's voice crackled in my earpiece, heavy with a weariness and sadness that felt almost tangible.
But I didn't reply. I didn't want to. Too many thoughts were tangled in my mind, like a knotted thread that only tightened with every word.
Words. Words. Words. They would only make everything worse.
I focused on something else — on movement. On speed. In that moment, it felt like the only meaning my existence held.
The city below rushed past me, a massive labyrinth of shadows and light, where every building and every beam of light lost its meaning. I flew forward, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, as if my legs never touched the ground. With each motion, my body seemed to dissolve into the air, blending into the Tokyo night, which was little more than a backdrop. Cursed energy surged through my veins like an electric current, filling me with strength.
As soon as I landed on one roof, I pushed off again, gliding along its edge as if I had been part of that building only a moment before. Another jump — and I was already on a streetlight pole. The pole creaked under my weight, but before it could bend, I was off again.
The wind whipped against my face, but I didn't feel the cold. My mind was already locked onto my next target. Another curse, lurking in the shadows of an abandoned building, thinking it could remain hidden.
A fatal mistake…
The energy inside me flared, and I extended my hand. Fire burst forth from my palm, forming a familiar sphere. Like an unleashed wolf, it shot toward the cursed spirit. The second-grade curse didn't even have a chance to comprehend its fate before it vanished. The flames consumed it entirely, leaving no trace.
The city remained silent.
Without stopping, I propelled myself forward. Leap, push — and I was airborne again, caught up in this relentless race. A strike, a turn, a surge — and the city turned into a blur of shadows and light, endless and indifferent.