The girl worked her cracked lips and stared at the man smiling down at her, saying nothing.
Her back stayed pressed to the cold wall, her whole body drawn into a knot, fear and wariness written across her face.
If he hadn't just done what he'd done, if he'd looked like anything other than what he looked like, she'd have already spent everything she had running.
Down here, where daylight never reached, kindness was a luxury she'd rarely seen.
Too many adults had worn it as a costume over something that wanted to hurt her.
Satoru didn't push. He kept the smile and extended his hand toward her, slow.
A clean hand, long-boned, palm turned up, warm in a way that asked nothing.
He held it there without leaning closer, without hurrying her.
Time and space to choose for herself. That was all he offered.
Wind funneled into the alley mouth, carrying fine grit.
It lifted the white strands across his forehead and stirred the blood-matted hair on hers.
Nothing else moved. Only the wind, and her shallow breathing that wouldn't steady.
She hesitated.
Over and over she told herself that this man had saved her.
Three men with guns had cornered her, and none of them had lasted a moment against him.
She was so small, so weak. There was nothing on her worth the trouble of a lie.
Trembling, she put out her filthy little hand.
Carefully, she laid it in his palm.
Like catching hold of the last rope thrown into a pit.
She pulled against his grip and rose to her feet.
The regenerative strength of the Cursed Children had already stopped the bleeding in her leg, the wound beginning to close.
But the memory of the pain sat in the bone, sharp as it had been.
Barely upright, her leg buckled and nearly dropped her.
His hand caught her arm in time and held her steady.
Her walk came out uneven.
Each step tugged at the wound and sent a clear bright ache up through her.
She kept her teeth in her lip and made no complaint, never once asked to stop.
He was in no hurry anyway.
Hand in hand, they moved toward the sewer entrance at a crawl.
He shortened his stride to match hers.
He even spared a thread of Cursed Energy, using the Limitless Cursed Technique to cradle her weight, taking enough of it that the pulling at her leg dulled to something she could bear.
Yasuwaki and his two men got nothing from him but a flat "Keep up," tossed over his shoulder without a backward glance.
Stripped of weapons, the three posed no threat whatsoever.
Running never entered their heads. They didn't have the nerve.
He'd done nothing to them in that alley. He'd stood there and looked at them, and their bodies had locked solid, and the memory of it hadn't loosened its grip.
That helplessness, every limb bound by something invisible, breath itself about to be taken away, had scoured every thought of resistance out of them.
They understood now. No amount of human effort was going to touch this man.
And they had nothing in their hands.
Run where, exactly?
If he wanted them, the ends of the earth wouldn't buy them a second.
They'd only die worse for it.
Yasuwaki watched the back of the man leading the girl away, grinding his teeth until they clicked, mouth full of the taste of blood.
He couldn't even reach for his phone to get word of this back to anyone.
One unnecessary movement might be the one that killed him.
He wasn't about to gamble on whether this lunatic had the nerve to execute a Second Lieutenant in the open street.
Damn it. Why did it have to be him.
The curse ran through his head on a loop.
All he could hope for now was that his rank would buy him some hesitation.
That he wouldn't be dispatched as casually as those two police officers had been.
He wore a military commission. He was a commissioned Second Lieutenant of the Tokyo Self-Defense Forces. Any punishment should go through Tokyo law, through a military tribunal, through procedure.
Wishful thinking, all of it.
Where this actually went depended on nothing but the mood of the man ahead of him.
Still, looking at how things stood, there might be a crack of daylight.
The man seemed to be weighing something.
Otherwise he'd have finished it in the alley. There'd have been no reason to leave them breathing, no reason to place that call to Seitenshi.
The thought steadied him.
His heart eased down out of his throat by a fraction.
Even the shaking in his limbs slackened a little.
Girl in hand and three men trailing behind, Satoru reached the sewer entrance.
Before long the manhole cover lifted from below, opening a narrow gap.
Aii's round little face appeared in it.
"Big brother!"
Her eyes lit the instant she saw him.
Wide almond eyes curved into two crescents.
She shoved the heavy cover aside, beaming, and called out in a bright clear voice.
Her hair was combed neat, her small dress clean, her face scrubbed.
Nothing like the grubby, flinching child who'd been living on the street.
"I found this one on the way. Let her stay with you tonight, and we'll move everyone tomorrow."
He ruffled Aii's hair, then stepped aside to reveal the crimson-eyed girl still holding tight to his hand.
"Okay! Everybody's packing today, we're all ready for tomorrow."
Aii nodded hard, an obedient little smile on her face.
Then she turned that smile on the new girl, open and free of anything sharp, showing two small pointed teeth.
"Nothing to worry about. There's a whole crowd of kids like you down there, and they're doing fine. Someone looks after them, and they've got friends."
He crouched slightly toward the child at his side, whose body still hadn't unlocked.
"I'll come back tomorrow and take all of you somewhere better. Somewhere safe."
Her eyes went to Aii on reflex.
The wariness in them hadn't cleared.
"He's telling the truth, he's a good person. If it weren't for him I'd still be out on the street."
Aii's voice dropped soft.
Another Cursed Child, another survivor of the same dark, and her word carried a weight Satoru's never could.
After a pause, the girl gave a small nod.
She let go of his hand and walked toward Aii.
Aii took her fingers at once and grinned at her.
"Aii, I've got things to do, so I won't come down."
He spoke to their backs.
"Anything comes up, have Elder Matsuzaki call me right away. Any hour. I'll be here."
Nothing careless in his tone now.
"Got it. I'll tell him."
She turned and nodded hard, answering loud.
"Send Betty and Miss Muroto up while you're at it."
"Mm!"
Aii chirped agreement, took the crimson-eyed girl's hand, and skipped down through the opening.
Two small shapes swallowed by the dark under the cover.
Shortly after, it swung open again.
Betty came out first, Sumire Muroto behind her.
Betty's gaze went straight to the three men standing at Satoru's back. One eyebrow rose, and her step faltered.
"Does Seitenshi know?"
She folded her arms, planted herself in front of him, and lifted her chin.
Distaste ran under the question, and when her eyes crossed Yasuwaki they moved over him like something scraped off a shoe.
"Called her a few minutes ago."
He nodded.
Her small nose wrinkled with open disgust, her stare fixed on the kneeling man.
"Betraying your own sovereign. That merits the gallows."
Cold anger sat in every word.
Traitors earned no sympathy in any world she'd lived in.
And this one hadn't stopped at betraying the woman who trusted him. He'd raised a blade over an unarmed child.
That part she couldn't stomach.
"Does Emilia know about all this?"
The question came out with a laugh he couldn't hold back.
"As though it would change anything if she did, I suppose."
Betty turned to look at him, brows lifting, a thread of amusement in it.
Fair enough.
Even if Emilia learned what Roswaal got up to behind her, punishing him wasn't in her reach.
Puck against Roswaal was a coin flip at best.
Emilia, who could hardly fight at all, stood no chance whatsoever.
She and Seitenshi belonged to the same category. People who wanted to protect something and found reality closed around them like a fist.
"All right. Let's head back. These three need dealing with."
The humor left his face. He turned, and his gaze settled on the trio again.
The curve at the corner of his mouth registered in Yasuwaki's eyes as worse than any demon's snarl.
"Mr. Gojo, we..."
A full-body shudder took him. He stumbled forward a step, bent at the waist, wearing a smile made of terror and flattery, stammering toward an explanation.
He wanted the blame anywhere but on himself. He wanted to beg.
A raised hand cut him off mid-word.
"You'll get your chance to say all that. Not now."
That trademark idle curve stayed on his lips.
The meaning underneath ran ice down Yasuwaki's spine.
"So shut your mouth. Otherwise I might do something that keeps it shut permanently."
"I, I understand..." His lips moved a few times before he swallowed everything and answered in a small shaking voice.
Fresh sweat broke across his forehead and ran down his cheek.
"Let's go."
Two words, and nothing more.
As they landed his body drifted up off the ground, rising toward the lead-grey sky.
High wind snapped at his clothes, and against that ceiling of cloud he looked like a struck match.
The three of them felt something invisible wrap around their bodies.
They went up after him whether they liked it or not.
Weightlessness hit all at once. Screams almost tore loose and they clapped their hands over their mouths, refusing to make a sound.
Shaking like men with fever, they let that unseen force carry them toward the heart of Tokyo.
The sun stayed bright above. Yasuwaki looked at it, felt the light on his skin, and got no warmth from it at all.
Only cold, coming from somewhere inside him.
None of them knew what waited at the end of this.
That was exactly what made it unbearable.
And none of them knew that a storm capable of overturning all of Tokyo's leadership was about to break.
At the Holy Residence.
Seitenshi had no good answer for any of it.
Neither the higher-ups nor Satoru bent to anything she did, so she followed his instruction and began summoning them.
Let it end without too much humiliation. That was as far as her hopes went.
She let out a small breath.
Some things refused to go the way you wanted, no matter how badly you wanted them.
Satoru flew through the open sky with Yasuwaki and the others in tow, unhurried by nothing and fast enough that the 39th Area fell behind them in minutes, the crowded districts rising ahead.
Unlike last time, this was broad daylight. People saw them. A great many people saw them.