The next morning, Tsutsumi Ryoko woke up early and began preparing breakfast for his older sister. From the fragment of memory left behind in this version of himself, he already knew that Ryoshu was the one who had been carrying the household all this time, since the previous Ryoko had apparently been too weak and cowardly to ever properly step outside and face the strange, twisted world around them.
That was not something he intended to continue.
He had already decided that today he would go out and look around for himself. If this world was going to be his for the time being, then he at least wanted to see what it contained and whether there was anything here worth paying attention to.
After finishing making breakfast, Ryoko placed the buttered toast, eggs, and bacon neatly on the table, arranging everything in a way that felt simple but warm. It was nothing extravagant, but it was enough to count as a proper morning meal. The smell drifted through the apartment quickly, carrying into the hallway and toward the bedroom.
Not long after, Ryoshu emerged, yawning lazily as she stepped out into the room. She was wearing only an oversized white shirt and panties, her current appearance far removed from the sharp, intimidating image she usually carried whenever she returned home from work.
"Morning," he greeted her, a little caught off guard by the sight of her appearance.
Normally, Ryoshu would wake up later, get dressed, and leave for work without much delay. But now that Ryoko had cleaned this messy apartment and made the living conditions far more comfortable, she was able to sleep properly in a better bed without waking up in irritation. The only reason she had even bothered putting on the oversized shirt was because the aroma of breakfast had been enough to pull her out of bed.
"M.B.B." she mumbled through another yawn, her voice still thick with sleep as she walked toward the table.
Drawn in by the smell, she sat down and began eating without wasting any time. Ryoko kept moving in the kitchen, already making a second meal for lunch as well, knowing that his sister would be gone for most of the day and would not be coming back until night.
"Ryoko, since when did you learn to cook?" Ryoshu asked as she pushed the cup of coffee aside and reached for a bottle of sake instead.
Ryoko glanced over at her, clearly hearing the question, but he did not answer right away.
He already knew what kind of person his older sister was. She was a chain smoker and an alcoholic, and honestly, he was in no position to criticize her habits. He understood that kind of dependence far too well. As someone who had spent so long running from his own destiny as the Destroyer, he knew exactly what it felt like to cling to something even when he understood it was harming him.
He could still avoid his fate if he really wanted to. He could abandon his power, give up the role of Decade, and walk away from everything that came with it.
But if he did that, he would be left with nothing.
He had already felt that emptiness before. He knew what it was like to live without purpose, to drift through life with no direction and nothing to hold onto. The power of Decade had been dangerous, yes, and holding onto it had brought trouble of its own, but it had also given him something he had never really had before. Through it, he had met people, formed bonds, and experienced emotions that had once been completely unavailable to him.
It was like poison in a way. He knew it would continue to hurt him if he kept holding onto it, but at the same time, letting go of it felt even worse, because then his life would lose the meaning it had slowly built around itself.
After a brief pause, Ryoko finally answered in a calm voice while continuing to prepare lunch.
"I just picked it up."
That was all he said.
Ryoshu gave him a sideways look, but after a moment she did not press the subject any further. Instead, she simply kept eating and drinking her sake, as if accepting that his answer was enough for now.
By the time breakfast was finished, Ryoshu stood up and went to get dressed for work as usual. Before leaving the apartment, she made sure to take the lunch he had prepared for her first, holding onto it as if it were already part of her routine. Then, without saying much else, she left the house and headed out for the day.
...
Walking through the streets of Nagoya, Tsutsumi kept both hands in his pockets as he moved at an unhurried pace, quietly taking in the city around him and looking for anything that might catch his attention.
The streets were busy in the way a city usually was, with people coming and going, vehicles passing by, and the constant sound of footsteps and conversations blending into the background. It was all ordinary enough on the surface, but that was exactly what made it useful to him. A city like this always had something hidden beneath its everyday appearance, whether it was trouble, opportunity, or simply something unusual enough to be worth noticing.
As he walked, several young men who clearly looked like troublemakers suddenly stepped in front of him and circled around without even bothering to hide what they were doing.
"Well, hello there, cutie," one of them said with a grin, looking Tsutsumi up and down. "Are you new here? Want us to take you around?"
Tsutsumi stared at them silently.
"Don't be such a downer," another one added, leaning in a little too close. "Come on, why don't you come have some fun with us? You came out here to look for guys anyway, right?"
The way they said it made Tsutsumi pause for a second, his expression flat and unamused. His hair had grown out quite a bit by now, since it had been a long time since he last bothered cutting it. The side bangs had already started reaching past his shoulders, and combined with his sharp eyes, lean frame, and androgynous face, it was not too surprising that people mistook him for a pretty boy or a handsome tomboy.
Still, being approached this directly was rare.
Usually, people just looked at him and quietly wondered what he was supposed to be. Some asked out loud, some kept it to themselves, but very few were confident enough to walk up and say something like this to his face.
"I'm a dude," Tsutsumi said at last, his tone clearly showing his annoyance.
Then, as he thought about it for a moment, his expression darkened slightly.
Come to think of it, he had never once seen or heard about Kyoka being hit on by a man.
Did that mean he looked even more like a girl than she did?
The thought itself was so ridiculous that it only made his mood worse.
The men in front of him laughed again, completely unconvinced.
"You a dude? C'mon, baby, do you really think we can't tell the difference between a pretty tomboy and a boy?"
That only made Tsutsumi more irritated.
He had no issue with being mistaken for something else, but this level of stubborn confidence from complete strangers was starting to get on his nerves. They were acting like they knew better than he did, despite clearly being in no position to make that kind of judgment.
He let out a small breath through his nose and calmly spoke into the air.
"Azu, call an ambulance for one, two, three, four, five people."
The men blinked at him in confusion, not immediately understanding what he meant, as Tsutsumi suddenly moved.
His base physical strength had already reached a level that could only really be described as superhuman, and the difference between him and ordinary people was not something that could be closed with confidence alone. Before the troublemakers could even react properly, blood was already flying through the air along with their bodies.
The entire exchange happened so fast that it barely lasted a minute, and by the time Tsutsumi finished, the only thing left behind was a pile of broken bodies on the pavement and a stunned silence in the space they had occupied.
He looked down at the mess for a brief moment before turning away and walking off as if nothing worth remembering had happened.
Still, the incident did not go completely unnoticed.
From behind a nearby corner, a stern-looking man with short black hair and dark red eyes stepped out just enough to watch Tsutsumi's back as he left. His pale gray skin and neatly tailored suit made him stand out immediately, but his expression was even more notable than his appearance.
He narrowed his gaze, clearly having seen enough to become interested in the boy who had just casually beaten down five people without appearing the least bit bothered by it.
As Tsutsumi continued wandering through the streets, casually exploring more of the city, an invisible crimson barrier suddenly spread across the road in front of him. It extended outward in all directions like a ripple passing through the air, and although he could not immediately tell what it was, the change in the atmosphere was enough to make him stop in his tracks.
"Hm?"
He looked forward, then around the street, watching as the barrier moved across the surrounding buildings and swallowed the area in something that felt much more ominous than it looked.
The reaction from everyone else was immediate. The pedestrians who had been chatting only moments ago suddenly turned pale, and without stopping to explain anything to anyone else, they all began running. Some rushed into nearby buildings, others disappeared into alleyways, and a few quickly lowered the metal shutters of their stores and locked themselves inside. Within only a few seconds, the lively street had emptied out almost completely, leaving him standing there with nothing but the sound of footsteps fading into the distance.
Tsutsumi looked around in mild confusion.
"...Did I accidentally walk into some kind of evacuation drill?"
Before he could think any further, the sound of splintering wood echoed from nearby.
The front door of a convenience store was kicked open from the inside.
A strange humanoid creature slowly stepped out. It wore ordinary clothes, but its head was an unsettling white mask-like shape with no visible facial features beyond a twisted expression that made it look even stranger the longer he stared at it. In one hand, it carried a rusted kitchen knife, held loosely as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Before Tsutsumi could finish examining it, more sounds began echoing throughout the street.
Glass shattered. Doors burst open. Windows exploded outward. One after another, similar creatures emerged from nearby shops, restaurants, apartment buildings, and convenience stores.
Some carried large scythes. Others held pitchforks, iron pipes, butcher knives, broken swords, baseball bats, crowbars, and even things as ridiculous as rolling pins and frying pans. The variety of weapons was so strange that it almost made the scene feel less frightening for a second, but only for a second, because the intent behind all of them was obvious enough.
Tsutsumi slowly looked around at the growing crowd surrounding him.
"...What kind of stage performance is this supposed to be?"
None of the creatures answered. Instead, they silently spread out, forming a loose circle around him as they closed in from every direction. Their movements were slow at first, then more deliberate, and every single one of them carried the exact same intention.
They wanted to kill him.
Tsutsumi glanced at them for a moment longer before a faint smile appeared on his face.
"Interesting. I don't mind playing with you for a bit."
His hand slipped into his pocket and came back out with a Ride Card between his fingers. He spun it once, almost idly, before inserting it into the Decadriver.
"Henshin."
Form Ride: Akame!
A crimson light flashed around his body, and his appearance changed instantly.
His frame became noticeably slimmer, his long black hair flowing freely down his back while a pair of calm crimson eyes replaced his usual purple ones. His clothing shifted into Akame's familiar outfit in a smooth motion. A sleeveless black top with a crisp white collar and a neatly tied red necktie formed around his upper body, followed by a red belt around his waist and a matching red side skirt hanging over a black pleated skirt. Long black socks reached above his knees, polished black shoes settled over his feet, and red armored gauntlets covered his forearms while black gloves fit snugly over his hands.
The transformation happened so naturally that even the monsters surrounding him seemed confused for a brief moment. Several of them actually stopped moving.
Their heads tilted slightly, as if they were trying to understand why the person standing before them had suddenly changed into someone completely different.
Tsutsumi rested one hand on the hilt of the Demon Sword Murasame.
"If you're not attacking, then I will."
The monsters immediately let out distorted screeches before charging all at once.
Some rushed straight toward him. Others tried to surround him from both sides. A few leaped across abandoned cars and broken pavement in an attempt to strike from above.
Tsutsumi simply stepped forward instead of retreating.
The instant his foot touched the pavement, Akame's muscle memory took over. His body moved with astonishing precision, and there was not a single unnecessary motion in it. He slipped between two incoming attacks, twisting just enough for a rusted axe to brush past his shoulder, then shifted again before the next creature could reach him.
Murasame left its sheath.
A single black flash of steel crossed the air.
The blade barely touched the first creature before returning toward its sheath, and the monster staggered two more steps before dark curse markings began spreading from the shallow wound across its body like ink seeping through paper. The markings crawled over its skin in an instant, swallowing its strength with them, and within seconds the creature collapsed to the ground. Its body then began breaking apart into black particles before disappearing completely.
Tsutsumi did not even look back.
Another creature lunged toward him with a pitchfork. He lowered his body slightly, letting the weapon pass over his head, then answered with a smooth upward cut that left the same black curse behind. Another shallow slash. Another spreading curse. Another body collapsing onto the ground.
One after another, the monsters fell.
None of them survived longer than a few seconds after being cut.
Murasame did not require deep wounds. A single successful strike was enough.
Tsutsumi moved through the battlefield almost effortlessly. Every swing of the blade was efficient, every step was measured, and every movement was so clean that it almost looked rehearsed. Rather than looking like someone fighting desperately for his life, he looked more like an experienced assassin carrying out routine work.
Several minutes later, silence returned to the street.
The remaining monsters had completely vanished.
Only damaged pavement, broken storefronts, and scattered weapons remained behind.
Tsutsumi slowly slid Murasame back into its sheath and narrowed his eyes as he surveyed the now deserted street.
"So they disappear after dying..."
He had barely finished the thought when the faint sound of footsteps reached his ears.
Without hesitation, he turned.
Almost at the exact same moment, a massive odachi slammed into the sheath of Murasame. The impact echoed loudly through the empty street, and the sheer force of it pushed Tsutsumi backward several meters before his shoes dug into the cracked pavement, bringing him to a stop.
"...That's quite the greeting."
Looking up, his eyes widened ever so slightly.
Standing in front of him was none other than Ryoshu.
She held her massive odachi with one hand, crimson eyes narrowed slightly as she stared directly at him. There was no surprise in her expression, only a sharp irritation that seemed to settle into the air around her. She clicked her tongue once before settling into a fighting stance, and the tip of the blade slowly lowered until it pointed directly at him.
"N.P."