Chiyo took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing her surging blood and chaotic thoughts, her beautiful face showing an unprecedentedly serious expression. She shook her head, her voice low and solemn:
"Kanjuro, you don't understand at all! I am an avatar of Nyarlathotep, one of the Thousand Faces surging outside the Nuclear Chaos! I am indeed an extremely special individual among them who has retained the 'human emotion' module, but that doesn't mean my essence can be easily modified!"
She pointed to herself, and then seemingly toward that unspeakable original body in the void: "If I, an avatar of Nyar, were to conceive an offspring that combines the power of the dark bible and... and your special essence, what kind of existence would be born? Would it still be controlled by the laws of chaos? Or would it become a brand new error (ror) that even I and the original body couldn't predict, potentially tearing the structure of reality? I can't guarantee anything!"
"That's fine," Kanjuro shrugged indifferently, stepping closer, his gaze dangerous. "What, at this point, do you think it's up to you to say you don't want to have it?" Chiyo looked at him, her eyes extremely complex, filled with anger, helplessness, and even a trace of a strange, forced heartbeat after being branded that she couldn't explain. She finally shook her head again, her tone carrying a sigh of resignation, yet she maintained her final stance:
"No... it's not possible. It's not that I don't want to, but... I can't negate what has already happened with you, nor the 'imprint' you forcibly left. But Kanjuro, I must warn you, this might be the most dangerous fire you've ever played with. Once that 'possibility' becomes reality, the consequences might be something even you, the Eternal One, cannot bear."
Kanjuro looked at the genuine concern and warning in her eyes, but instead of backing down, he showed an even more excited smile, full of the desire for a challenge.
"Unbearable consequences? Heh... that is exactly the unprecedented... pleasure I seek." The Demon Sister Chiyo looked at Kanjuro's appearance—completely indifferent to a potential apocalyptic crisis and instead full of enthusiasm—and could only let out a soft sigh mixed with helplessness and a certain hidden expectation. Her beautiful figure began to gradually fade, like ink dissolving in water.
"You really aren't afraid of death at all... I've become the one worrying for nothing." Her voice carried a faint trace of reproach, finally dissipating into the chaos. "Fine, have it your way. If some uncontrollable mess really happens then, I won't be responsible~"
Kanjuro gave a faint smile, not truly taking her "warning" to heart. Rather than worrying about the so-called "consequences" an unknown offspring might bring, he was more keen to view it as a high-stakes gamble, a chance to bring a brand new kind of "fun" to his eternal life. He even began to speculate with great interest: would it be a boy or a girl? If it were a boy... perhaps he should find a way to "dispose" of him; after all, he didn't need an heir, only a cute "daughter." But if it were a girl... at the thought of a "daughter" flowing with the blood of himself and Nyarlathotep's avatar, possessing both chaotic and dark traits, an indescribable surge of excitement and anticipation welled up within him.
(And in the unseen realm, his twisted will and powerful authorities had already become like the spindle of fate, quietly beginning to weave the trajectory of the future. Since he desired a "daughter" so intensely, how could the being descending into the world defy its "father's" deepest expectations?)
When the alternate dimension completely dissipated and the flow of time in the outside world returned to normal, Kanjuro's figure reappeared in his classroom seat as if he had never left, his posture identical to when he had vanished.
However, almost the instant he appeared, a cold and sharp gaze locked firmly onto him.
Yukinoshita Yukino turned around, her cool eyes staring directly at Kanjuro. There was no doubt in them, only a near-certain interrogation: "Just now... where did you go with that woman?" Her voice wasn't loud, yet it clearly pierced through the break-time clamor to fall into Kanjuro's ears.
Kanjuro was slightly startled. He hadn't expected Yukinoshita Yukino to not only notice Chiyo's appearance but even vaguely sense their "departure." This sensitivity, far beyond that of an ordinary person, was definitely no coincidence.
He didn't answer directly. Instead, he slowly turned his head to meet Yukino's gaze, a meaningful smile tinged with a bit of inquiry appearing on his face.
"Little Yukino," his voice was calm, yet it carried a power that could penetrate the heart, "In this life, one always encounters many incomprehensible doubts, and many unspoken answers remain hidden. About you, about me, about us... certain invisible connections."
He paused deliberately, observing the subtle changes in Yukino's expression, and continued in a highly suggestive tone:
"Sometimes, the answer doesn't need to be told by me personally. Perhaps... with your keenness and intuition, you've already guessed something, haven't you?"
These words were like a stone thrown into a quiet lake, creating massive ripples in Yukinoshita Yukino's heart. Her delicate body trembled slightly, and countless thoughts flashed through her mind in an instant.
(Why... why is it only me who can feel it?)
(That woman, filled with ill omens and temptation... she is definitely not human!)
(Kanjuro... what kind of connection exists between him and me? Is there really some... absolutely inseparable relationship?)
(And then there's Sister Haruno... she clearly has complex feelings for Kanjuro, yet she always deliberately avoids him, even showing fear... does she know something?)
Confused thoughts tangled around her like a mess of hemp, leaving her mind restless. She knew better than anyone the twisted and deep emotions her sister, Yukinoshita Haruno, harbored for Kanjuro, and precisely because she knew, she felt that Kanjuro was shrouded in heavy mist.
She took a sharp, deep breath, trying to suppress the chaos in her heart, but it had little effect. Finally, she could only lift her ice-blue eyes and stare intently at Kanjuro, her chest heaving slightly from the emotional agitation. Her voice carried a rare, complex mix of determination, concern, and deep helplessness:
"Kanjuro... I... no matter what, regardless of my standpoint... I don't want you to... do anything bad!"
This sentence almost exhausted all her strength. After saying it, she even panted slightly as if losing her strength. This wasn't just a warning; it was more like a powerless plea, praying that the darkness she had vaguely glimpsed would not completely swallow everything she cared about (even if she was unwilling to admit it).
Looking at her stubborn yet slightly fragile appearance, the playfulness in Kanjuro's eyes deepened. He didn't make a promise, nor did he offer a rebuttal; he just quietly looked back at her, as if admiring a beautiful painting titled "Struggle."
The classroom clamor continued and the sunlight was bright, but between the two, silent undercurrents were surging. Yukinoshita Yukino's intuition was pushing her step by step toward the edge of a truth she both feared and couldn't help but want to explore. At dismissal time, the shopping district was bustling and full of vitality. Kanjuro strolled leisurely with his hands in his pockets, his gaze carelessly sweeping over the dazzling array of shops on both sides. Just then, his sight caught a familiar and somewhat lonely figure—Komachi Hikigaya.
She was sitting alone on a street bench, clutching her schoolbag, her small face tilted up slightly as she stared blankly at the various exquisite goods displayed in the opposite shop window. Her eyes held a hint of longing belonging to her age and a trace of imperceptible loneliness.
"What a coincidence." An imperceptible curve formed at the corner of Kanjuro's mouth as he walked straight over.
Hearing footsteps, Komachi Hikigaya subconsciously turned her head. When she saw that the person coming was Kanjuro, her whole body jolted like a startled rabbit, and she nearly jumped off the bench. Her brother Hachiman Hikigaya's fear-filled warnings still rang in her ears—"Stay away from him!" "He's like a demon!"
Intense fear made her small face turn pale for a moment, but she still forced a very unnatural smile, her voice tight: "Ah... it's, it's Brother Kanjuro..."
She didn't dare look directly into Kanjuro's eyes, her gaze drifting, subconsciously avoiding his excessively handsome face that currently made her feel uneasy.
(Is it... is it really like what Onii-chan said, that he brings disaster?)
(But... but he looks so good when he smiles, and his voice is so gentle...)
Kanjuro acted as if he didn't see the fear in the depths of her eyes, his tone still as gentle as a big brother next door: "Komachi, why are you sitting here alone? Did you run into something unhappy?"
Komachi Hikigaya quickly shook her head vigorously, as if trying to shake off some bad thoughts: "No, it's nothing! I just wanted to be alone for a while..."
"Being alone is so lonely," Kanjuro said without allowing for argument, naturally taking hold of Komachi's slightly cold little hand. "Come on, accompany Brother Kanjuro for a stroll through the shopping district to relax."
His palm was warm and strong, carrying an air of being impossible to refuse. Komachi's body stiffened, and she wanted to break free, but her weak strength was useless against Kanjuro. She was practically half-pushed and half-pulled by him into a nearby busy general store.
The store was brightly lit, with shelves filled with all kinds of novel and interesting toys, tempting snacks, and exquisite stationery. The colorful environment temporarily distracted Komachi; she looked around curiously, and the fear in her eyes seemed to fade a little.
Suddenly, her gaze was drawn to a handmade, somewhat silly-looking green frog plushie hanging on the wall. The frog had large round eyes and a simple, honest smile, making it very cute. Komachi's gaze lingered on it for several seconds, subconsciously revealing a hint of affection.
Kanjuro keenly captured this fleeting emotion. He let go of her hand, walked to the wall, easily took down the frog plushie, then turned and handed it to Komachi, a flawless gentle smile on his face:
"This is for you, Komachi. It looks like it suits you very well."
However, to his surprise, Komachi Hikigaya looked at the plushie handed to her, froze for a moment, then as if being burned, she suddenly took a small step back, her hands behind her back, shaking her head vigorously:
"No... I don't want it!"
The smile on Kanjuro's face faltered slightly, followed by an appropriately hurt and confused expression. He leaned down slightly, gazing into Komachi's dodging eyes, his voice even softer yet carrying a power that struck the soul:
"Why don't you want it? Komachi..."
He paused, a faint sense of grievance and inquiry entering his tone:
"Could it be... you also think Brother Kanjuro isn't a good person?"
Komachi Hikigaya's response plunged Kanjuro into a brief silence. He looked at her clear eyes, which had not yet been tainted by too much of the world's filth; there was no fear, infatuation, or calculation common in others, only a simple and direct judgment based on limited contact.
"Within the scope of my limited knowledge," Komachi repeated seriously, as if emphasizing her standpoint, "I don't completely believe those evaluations others have of you. At least, from just now until now, the Brother Kanjuro I've interacted with is a very good, very gentle, and very kind person."
(Very good... gentle... kind...)
These words brushed against Kanjuro's heart, which had been silent for untold years, like feathers, yet they unexpectedly sent out a microscopic ripple. This wasn't the first time someone had said such things, especially when he was deliberately feigning. But coming from a pure (or rather, naive) child like Komachi, with such unquestionable certainty, it instead made him feel a trace of... absurdity.
He looked away toward the bustling crowd outside the store window and the sinking twilight, a hint of vagueness he hadn't even anticipated entering his voice: "In the past... perhaps I was."
"In the past?" This vague temporal term instantly piqued Komachi's curiosity. She tilted her small face up and pressed, "When are you talking about, Brother Kanjuro?"
Kanjuro sighed softly, a fleeting distance crossing his eyes as if he were seeing something else through the scene before him. "If it were... a past life, it would probably be like that." He gave a near-mystical answer.
"Past life? What a strange way to put it." Komachi Hikigaya blinked, clearly not believing such illusory terms; she felt it was more like Brother Kanjuro was joking or brushing her off...
Kanjuro withdrew his gaze, his complex eyes falling back on Komachi. A rare wave of self-examination surged within him.
(Good person or bad person... is it really that important?)
(Of the things I've done, every single one, which isn't the act of a beast? Of those women who cannot leave me, how many are sincere, and how many are just sinking into the vortex of power and desire, captured by my 'spear of longinus'?)
(But this child named Komachi... based solely on this brief contact, she concludes that I'm a 'good person'?)
This pure and groundless "trust" was like a faint yet stubborn light shining into the depths of his soul, which had long been saturated by darkness. It didn't bring warmth, but instead stirred a more twisted... excitement.
A dangerous and fascinating idea took shape in his mind.
He suddenly leaned down, drawing close to Komachi Hikigaya, a strange light flickering in those deep eyes—a mix of inquiry, cruelty, and an indescribable anticipation.
"Komachi," his voice was still gentle, yet it seemed to carry a seductive magic, "are you willing... to play a game with me?"
"Hmm? A game?" Komachi, still holding the frog plushie, tilted her head in confusion. "Tell me about it."
The corner of Kanjuro's mouth curled into a meaningful arc. His gaze seemed to pierce through the store walls, looking toward some unknown future full of variables.
"This game..." he said slowly, every word crystal clear, "might bring you thorough pain and overturn all your current perceptions."
He saw a flash of fear on Komachi's face, but he didn't stop. Instead, he continued in that coaxing tone:
"Of course, the ending of the game isn't necessarily bad. It ultimately depends on... you."
"Depends on me?" Komachi Hikigaya was startled, her innocent eyes filled with confusion. "Brother Kanjuro, you mean... whether the ending is good or bad is decided by me?"
"Correct." Kanjuro reached out and gently, even with a hint of pity, lightly stroked Komachi's soft cheek. The gesture was intimately unsettling. "Because... I also occasionally want to try doing... a 'good deed.'"
"Ah?" Komachi was completely bewildered. Why would doing a "good deed" involve a "game" that could potentially cause someone pain? Brother Kanjuro's logic was so strange. But as she looked into Kanjuro's eyes, which appeared exceptionally serious at this moment—even carrying a sort of... almost "sincere" expectation—and recalled his gentleness from just now along with the contradiction in his words, the trust born of her intuition won out again.
She thought hard for a moment and finally nodded vigorously, saying as if to cheer herself up, "Anyway! I don't think Brother Kanjuro is a bad person! I believe you!"
"Good!" A brilliant smile bloomed on Kanjuro's face, though it hid a turbulent undercurrent. He took Komachi's hand once more, and this time, his grip carried an unquestionable resolve.
"Let's go," he led Komachi toward the deeper twilight outside the store. "This game will be very complex. So complex... that it is closely related to you, to your brother Hachiman Hikigaya, and to me."
A dangerous game with an uncertain ending, played in the name of "goodwill" with "pain" as the stakes, quietly began in this seemingly ordinary dusk. And Komachi Hikigaya, being led by the hand toward the unknown, still naively thought that this might truly just be a special "Game Five."
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