Both Kurosu Ouma and Shuichiro Keido had once stood at the very top of Tennouzu University's biology department—two men who began as mutual admirers, rivals, and friends all at once, pushing each other forward even as they competed. Haruka, as Keido's younger sister, had grown up in the shadow of two such formidable figures. It would have been strange if she had turned out to be merely a bookish wallflower.
She still carried more than enough leverage to be useful—and Mana Ouma was precisely the handle Inori had surfaced to use against her.
"Aunt Haruka—I need you to tell me. The Void Genome. What exactly is it?"
"Why was humanity ever capable of creating something like that?"
This was a question both Mana and Inori held in equal measure. Not out of any particular fascination with the power itself—it was simply that knowing your weapons was never a waste, and the fact that the Void Genome seemed to be driving King Crimson's ongoing evolution made it all the more worth examining.
"...It's a long story. We'd have to go back to your father's research."
——Skip to the important parts. Short version.
That was what Inori had intended to say. But the voice that actually came out of her mouth was something else entirely.
"It's all right. We have plenty of time."
...
...
After a parting from Haruka that felt warmer than Inori had intended, she reclaimed the controls of her own body and made her way toward Funeral Parlor's new base—a cluster of condemned buildings in the restricted zone near Tennouzu High, a stretch of derelict structures that had once served as the secret headquarters of Shu Ouma's film club. She had since appropriated it for her own purposes.
The reasoning was simple: the location put her closer to the city center, which meant faster response times if something went sideways. And Shuichiro Keido, for all that he was under house arrest, was not the kind of man who accepted subordination quietly—and he still had one very unusual accomplice: Yuu, the Grave Keeper of Da'ath, who operated entirely outside the laws and conventions of this world. When those two decided to move, they would move. Inori intended to be ready.
She found herself a little distracted as she walked. Haruka's account had been long, dense with names and implications, threaded through with loose ends—but all told, she now had a reasonably clear picture of the No. 3 Void Genome sealed in the case she was carrying: its origins, its history, what it had been made for.
She had already been injected with the No. 2. She wasn't sure the No. 3 still had any effect on her at all. With a complete King Crimson and Mana's sword already at her disposal, she didn't need it to handle Yuu—keeping it out of enemy hands was simply the more practical reason to hold onto it. One fewer troublesome adversary.
But the story Haruka had told her was genuinely moving, in ways she hadn't quite expected. And somewhere in those details, she felt she had caught a glimpse of something else—a shape, a possibility she hadn't yet considered.
She filed it away for later.
She also realized she hadn't eaten anything.
She'd grab something back at base. But before she could take another step, her phone buzzed.
The caller ID read: Shu Ouma.
"What is it, Shu?"
She answered with a light, unhurried tone.
"You're not keeping your adoptive mother company. Don't tell me you're already missing me?"
Inori was nothing if not calculating—she understood, precisely and at all times, exactly how to make someone like her more, or hate her more.
"...What did you say to Haruka?"
Shu's voice came back hard.
Inori was mildly surprised. He sounded different—less like the piece she could move wherever she pleased, and more like someone who had decided he was done being moved.
She understood quickly enough. This was only a small, momentary burst of courage, summoned for the sake of protecting someone he loved. Nothing more.
"What I said? Only that she should meet the daughter she's been missing."
She registered that he was being serious, and matched him—dropping the playful edge, speaking plainly.
Just as she had that night, the night she spoke to Shu Ouma without a single layer of performance between them.
"But you lied——!"
Shu bit off the words, voice low and furious. Inori could almost picture his expression—the face of someone who hated her with everything he had, and knew he couldn't do anything about it. But before he could finish the thought, another voice cut across the line.
"Shu? Can you grab the vegetables from the bag for me?"
Haruka's voice—distant, accompanied by the rhythmic clatter of a spatula against a wok. She was in the kitchen.
"Coming, Haruka—be right there!"
"Who are you on the phone with?"
"A...a friend."
And then Shu left the call hanging. But Inori could still hear them—the soft, indistinct murmur of voices drifting back and forth—and for a moment she kept listening without meaning to. Something unremarkable, and quiet, and genuine. For him, probably, this was a kind of peace that rarely came.
Inside her, Mana stirred—even the sounds alone were enough. She didn't need to see. She was satisfied just knowing both the people she cared most about in this world were alive, were together, were well.
Not a secondhand report. Not a rumor. She had heard it herself. Felt it herself.
For the sake of keeping that fragile thing intact—that was why she and Inori were still fighting.
"You're lying, aren't you?" Shu's voice returned, softer now. "I heard it clearly—that night. You are not Mana. You told Gai as much. You swallowed her whole."
"It sounds like your memory has come back."
Inori offered no urgency. A measured, testing response.
"...Mana is my—she's my sister. And Gai was my closest friend when we were children. I remember all of it."
So last night's confrontation had hit him harder than she'd realized. The shock had dragged up the things he'd spent the longest time burying.
To his credit, Shu wasn't entirely without a conscience. He knew what he had done—both as a person and as a brother—was something to be ashamed of. His own weakness had cost lives. He had no standing to point fingers at the woman he had once seen as a monster. And knowing that made it harder to speak, not easier.
——Inori. Let me take this.
Mana felt the news and could barely contain it—her little brother had remembered her. She wanted in.
——No. You'll lose your composure the moment you open your mouth.
——That is not——
"You remembered all of that. And what are you planning to do with it? Tell your mother the truth?"
——Inori!
——It's not time yet.
Mana was right—Inori knew it. But her mouth was on her side of the body, and she had no desire to do things Mana's way.
——What exactly are you waiting for? You have real bonds—why not use them? The way you feel about Hare. Tell Shu the truth. He'll understand.
——When he's ready.
Inori grasped exactly what Mana wanted. Her brother had remembered her name. Of course Mana was desperate to respond—to speak to him herself, or at the very least borrow the body for a moment and give him some rain-soaked reconciliation scene.
"I won't say anything. Yuzuriha-san."
The answer surprised her.
She had half-expected him to fall back into the old pattern—to beg, like a dog that had lost its home, for her to leave his family alone.
"You've thought this through? You've decided to be my loyal hound after all?"
Out of pure habit—out of a reflexive satisfaction in cutting people down—Inori reached for cruelty.
"I...in the past, I liked you, Yuzuriha-san."
Shu gathered himself and said it: the one thing he had never managed to say to Inori's face. And he said it deliberately, knowing full well it would be the last time.
"But from now on—I fight for my family, and for the sister I lost."
"You intend to stand against me?"
③
In the original timeline, he had spent his entire arc living inside other people's shadows—first joining Funeral Parlor for the sake of a girl named Inori, then reaching for Gai's image after Gai's apparent death, all while his own naivety got people killed. It was only at the very end, when he took the crown of sin onto his own head and carried it for everyone, that he became something like a true protagonist.
Now, at last, he was no longer chasing a fantasy of being with "Yuzuriha-san." No longer moving out of fear of what she might do. He had a reason of his own—a mother, a friend, a sister who was gone.
"No. You aren't my enemy."
It was the most certain, most grounded thing Inori had ever heard from him.
"The people who killed Mana ten years ago—the people who spread the Apocalypse Virus across this country—whoever they are, I will make them pay."